#steddie ring ficlet
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PART 2 OUT NOW! PART 3 PART FOUR IS FINALLY HERE
Eddie doesn’t know when it started, making little things for Steve Harrington.
Rings and chains for both around his neck and wrist to compliment his moles. He had been making his own jewelry for years now, but he draws a blank when it comes to what he makes for Steve.
No one knew Eddie made his own pieces, not even Dustin Henderson, the nosy little shit. He kept it secret, made something up when people on the rare occasion asked where he got his stuff from. Including when Steve asked.
“I don’t know man, some little shop in Indy,” Eddie had lied. Doesn’t know why he even did, they had become good friends in recent months.
No, no, that’s a lie too. Eddie knows why he lied to Steve.
It was always in the back of his mind, and one day he finally started making them. Simple things at first. A plain band, a dainty chain. Didn’t think he’d even give them to Steve and never thought in a million years the ex-jock would wear them.
Eddie never really thought he’d even give them to him.
But he does, little boxes he leaves on the Harrington porch, on Steve’s BMW, on the Family Video counter when Steve and Robin are on one of their gossip sections in the back.
The only note he really leaves with it is that it’s for Steve and no one else, doesn’t sign it with “secret admirer” he thinks it’s too…well, he doesn’t really know. It’s not beneath him, he’s a romantic at heart. Eddie just doesn’t even know if he’s ready to admit that’s what he is.
An admirer.
It’s one day that Eddie and the party are getting pizza at the local parlor that he notices Steve is wearing one of the rings.
It’s plain silver, but hammered on the outside. Nothing fancy, nothing like he makes for himself. But Eddie was proud of it in that sense, it was outside his comfort zone and he had made it perfect.
And Steve was wearing it.
Eddie had to act like he wasn’t five seconds away from dying of how adorable it was before his heart sank, because Steve didn’t know it was from him.
Steve probably thought it was from a girl, especially because duh, a girl would make jewelry. Especially jewelry like that.
He watched as Steve twirled it on his middle finger, with a small smile on his face to himself. Eddie looked away before he got caught, tears threatening to boil over, his face on fire.
The next time Eddie sees Steve, he’s wearing the small chain that Eddie had left the other week. It’s a bit hidden by the collar of the polo he’s wearing, but Eddie catches the flash of silver out of the corner of his eye.
But again, it’s something maybe dainty, delicate hands would make. Steve does seem like the type of sweet guy who’d wear whatever thing a girl bought or made for him.
Maybe next time Eddie won’t make something so dainty.
#WELCOME TO MY FICLET SERIES BABIESSSS#probably only doing like 3 parts but still#i don’t write a lot of ficlet stuff but this possessed my body#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steddie ficlet#stranger things ficlet#steddie ring ficlet#part 1 of steddie ring ficlet
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Eddie talks about feeling like a coward and Steve is just completely flabbergasted because Eddie "stands-on-tables-and-screams-about-conformity" Munson, Eddie "takes-his-lunchbox-full-of-drugs-to-school" Munson, Eddie "wears-rings-and-nail-polish-and-eyeliner-and-long-hair-in-conservative-indiana" Munson thinks he is a COWARD?!?!?!
#king steve secretely being jealous of freak eddie because he is just unashamedly himself#(may or may not appear in the next ficlet im currently writing 😏😏)#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve stranger things#eddie stranger things#stranger things#st s4#also nail polish and rings and eyeliner eddie is canon in my mind
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celebrate softly
it my birthday today so here’s a lil gift from me to you (yes I know that’s not how this works haha) I made a bunch of little things is celebration, i probably won’t post these till later in the day so sorry if you get a bunch at once.
Steve wanted to like his birthday.
No, really, he truly did. He knew that birthdays were the one time of year you get to be a little selfish. The people you loved gathered around you to celebrate another year of you.
It was just that Steve was also used to disappointment.
Over the years, his birthday has consisted of either his parents parading him around at business dinners or the empty silence of a house that wasn’t ever a home.
His old friends were never around. It was a holiday weekend; he didn’t expect them to stick around. Even if they had, Steve was almost sure they would have made him throw a party, where they would have pressured him to get drunk and sleep with someone, and…
Yea, Steve wasn’t interested.
The one birthday he spent with Nancy had been okay. She had to go on a family trip, her parents attempt at getting their kids to cheer up over the loss of their friends, and she was going to leave the morning of his birthday. But at midnight of July 2nd, she had snuck into his window even though she could have walked through the front door. Nancy had brought him a cupcake, a small present, and a soft smile. Steve had wanted to kiss her, but he knew it wasn’t what she wanted then. He wanted to be respectful, so he held her hand instead.
Nancy hadn’t brought a candle, said she didn’t want to risk burning the Harrington Household down. Steve had laughed, saying that would be the best birthday present ever, but she hadn’t laughed back.
The present had been a book. Which wasn’t a terrible gift per se, Steve liked reading it was just he had difficulty doing it. He couldn’t focus long enough, or he would have to reread sentences over and over again.
It just didn’t feel worth the frustration.
But it was sweet of her to get him something, so he tried reading it. It took him months to finish it, even though it was small. It was boring, and Steve had found the main character whiny, and Steve had begun to wonder if Nancy was trying to tell him something.
Then the Upside Down round two had happened, Steve got his ass kicked again and learned that Catcher in the Rye was Jonathan’s favorite book.
Steve had thrown out the book amongst his bloody bandages.
Steve was only slightly hopeful to have a good birthday last year. He had good friends (sure, one was his ex, and the other were children, but he still counted them); Dustin would be home from camp, and even though he had work, he got to spend the whole day bothering Robin, which brought him a special kind of joy.
But then they were cracking Russian code, getting tortured, and watching Max’s Stepbrother die, all within the days of his birthday.
So Steve didn’t have high expectations this year. Sure, people knew it was his birthday, it was hard to hide when he was friends with the nosiest people, but most of them were spending the entire weekend staying with Max, and he would have been too if Max hadn’t thrown a remote at him when he suggested it.
So Steve had conceded to having a quiet but lonely July 2nd.
But then at 7 am there was a knock on his front door.
A knock was putting it lightly, there was pounding echoing in the Harrington Household.
When Steve walked up to the door, he was prepared to drive away some bigots who had been trying to “repent Hawkins.” They had been going around the richer neighborhoods recently, saying we needed to clean up the streets of the sinners and the queers.
Yea, they were knocking on the wrong door.
Steve hadn’t expect Eddie Munson, notorious night owl, to be crowding his doorway at 7 am.
“Harrington, have I ever told you how absolutely ugly your house is? Like for how wealthy your parents are, they chose an absolute nightmare of a layout! It makes no sense.” Eddie budged his way past Steve with his arms full of bags.
“I’ve been telling him that for a year, Eddie, and every time he just shrugs!” Steve turned to find Robin bullying her way through him as well. She had a handful of videos in her hands.
“Sure, come in, I guess,” Steve mumbled. He shut the door and turned toward his intruders. “Not that I don’t love a surprise appearance at—“ Steve checked his watch “—7:03 am, but is there a reason why you are awake before the birds are even chirping?”
Eddie snorted and just gave him a look instead of answering. Robin shook her head, “What doofus hear is trying to convey with a noise, Jesus Eds, I know you’re not a morning, but words please, is that we are obviously here for your birthday. You, Steven Alison Harrington—“
“Not my middle name.”
“—we’re born at exactly 7:07 am on July 2nd. So we had to be here to say happy birthday officially!”
“How do you even know the time? I don’t even know that.”
“She snuck a look at your file last time Owen’s was in town.” Eddie smirked.
Robin hit him upside the head, “Don’t tell him that asshole, he already thinks I’m crazy enough. And don’t act like this wasn’t your idea!”
Eddie rubbed the back his head in dramatic fashion then yelled, “Snitch!” through hissed teeth.
Steve felt himself unthaw at the idea that these two weirdos woke up this early for him. “Ah, well, thanks, guys.” A blush rose on his cheeks, “Well, thanks for stopping by; you guys can go home and sleep if you want.”
“Stevie, did you think we brought all this to just leave? On your birthday. Oh no, no, no. We are having a whole movie and snack day! I brought weed, and chips, and we can order a pizza later in the day. And just be lazy weirdos in your fancy living room.” Eddie hopped up on his coffee table, startling a laugh from Steve.
“That sounds like a typically Friday for us, what’s so special about it?” Steve teased.
“Well we brought all of your favorite movies! Grease, Top Gun, Karate Kid, Indiana Jones...wait I think I'm noticing a theme here—“
“Robin!” Steve screeched, his blush coming back with vengeance. He didn’t want her to reveal there very obvious, and embarrassing pattern to his favorite films.
“And!” Eddie said from atop his place on the coffee table, unfazed by the two of them, “We are paying for the pizza.” His voice oozed with pride at that. Steve was sure he had come up with the idea.
“Wow I’m a spoiled prince. Maybe ever think I wanted to stay in bed?” Steve raised a single eyebrow.
“Oh but my sweet prince, we know you rather spend this glorious day with us.” Eddie was confident, with confidence came the damn nicknames, and Jesus Christ—this blush of his was never going away. “Besides what else could you wish for!”
A kiss from you. Steve thought quickly.
Steve sighed deeply before saying, “Alright. Get down.”
Eddie seemed taken aback, like he hadn’t expected the rejection. “Oh yea man, of course. We will get out of your hair.” He scrambled off the table.
Steve giggled, “No Eds. I’m moving the coffee table. This couch is a pullout. We can all just lay on it while we watch movies.”
Eddie’s face lit up while Robin yelled, “Oh thank god, I’m exhausted.”
An hour later, when the sun was still barely risen and Grease blared in the background, Robin was bundled up in the blankets they dragged from his room, out like a light.
Eddie and Steve huddled close, but didn’t touch. The anticipation and want sat between them. “I actually have something for you.” Eddie whispered.
Robin snored beside them; Steve looked at her fondly. “You don’t have to whisper; she’s a heavy sleeper. Learned that the hard way.”
“Ah well, I have a present for you.”
Steve knows he should say that Eddie shouldn’t have, or insist he returns it. He knew it was the polite thing to do. He couldn’t find it in himself to do it, though. The idea that Eddie even thought to get him something beyond the amazing day they had planned (truly Steve couldn’t ask for a better day), but Eddie had spent his time to get something for Steve.
It was nice to have someone who would do something nice for you just because they can, not because they should. So, Steve waited patiently as Eddie reached into his bag beside the couch.
“Here.” Eddie spoke, placing the roughly wrapped package in his lap.
There was a tiny notecard with Eddie’s chicken scratch on it; Steve decided to read that first.
Stevie,
No adventure is the same without you, and this is the only one I have taken without you by my side. Thought it was about time we changed that. Hopefully we are not forever partners in crime (we’ve had enough of that) but instead, adventurers taking on then great unknown.
Together.
Yours,
Eddie Munson ッ
Steve smoothed over the card and tried not to cry. The poorly drawn smiley face stared up at him from the piece of parchment. Steve tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping; he might even frame it.
Eddie looked at Steve eagerly as he tried to open the package. He does it slowly to tease Eddie; his frustrated little growl made butterflies in Steve’s stomach.
Inside the package is a worn-out book, one he would recognize anywhere, considering he saw it every day on Eddie’s bookshelf. “Eds, this is your copy of Lord of the Rings. I can’t take this.”
Eddie put his hair in front of his mouth, suddenly shy, “Well, it wouldn’t be exactly yours. It’s just I thought it would be fun to, ya know, read it together? Like we take turns reading to each other. I know the kids always bug you to read it, and I noticed that it’s hard for you to focus sometimes, and I get that, so it might be easier if we like make it a thing? I know it’s probably not your interest; it’s my favorite book, not yours, so you know what? This is stupid—“
Steve cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Steve buried himself into Eddie’s neck before saying, “Thank you. It’s the best birthday present.”
“Really?” Eddie pulled back to look at Steve’s face. Whatever he found there must settle him, because he relaxed his shoulders. “I know it’s silly, but I guess I wanted to share this piece of myself with you…and maybe spend some more time together.”
Steve didn’t mention how they spent almost every day together, didn’t think he had to either. They both knew.
Steve decided to be bold instead. He pushed Eddie back into the couch and settled his back into Eddie’s chest. He snuggled into the warmth of his arms.
Steve put the book in Eddie’s hand. “Okay, you read first.”
Eddie laughed; Steve could feel the vibrations from under his skin. It was delightful; it was delicious. “Oh, you want to start now?”
Steve made an indignant noise while Eddie laughed again at him. His hands settled at the back of Steve’s neck as he played with hair that brushed it.
“When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was …”
And once again, hours later, when Steve woke up, after drifting to Eddie’s soft, deep voice, Steve felt something settle in him. He felt Eddie lightly snoring beneath him, one hand still tangled in his hair. He felt Robin’s hand wrapped around his ankle, grounding the both of them. And there, between all of them, was the fallen book with no bookmark, signaling they would have to start again.
Maybe, sometimes. Steve thinks, birthdays could be good.
***
projecting. projecting. projecting. that’s me.
I hope you guys liked this one :) I did use my own bday for him, but the time he was born at is different than mine lol. I had a lot of fun writing it, it was just the softness I needed.
#steddie#people deserve soft birthdays#especially Steve#he just wants to snuggle#eddie munson#robin buckley#steve harrington#my writing#stranger things#platonic stobin#lord of the rings#soft boys#pre steddie#pre relationship#fluff#domestic fluff#stobin#bisexual Steve Harrington#birthday blues#ficlet#steve x eddie
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The pen didn't have a lot of ink left, but it would do. He'd taken a notebook from Max's desk as well. He had to write these things down, just in case.
"Just in case I don't make it back there's some things I wanted to tell you. One, I'm sorry I didn't come home, I'm sorry I ran and left you to deal with my mess again, I didn't kill Chrissy and I hope you know that.
Don't blame yourself for being on the night shift, from what I understand it would've happened anyway, I'm glad I could make her laugh before she died. You're going to have some people visit you, if they make it instead of me. You can trust them, just listen to Dustin, he's a good kid and knows good people. Yes, even Steve Harrington, if anyone is making it out alive it's him, I'll make sure he gives this to you.
Give my stuff to the boys, everything, the books, the rings, the records. I want them to have me in some way when I'm gone, especially since I won't get to say goodbye. Check on them now and then will you? I'm sorry I can't be around anymore to protect them.
Get out of Hawkins, I don't need a grave, I don't need you stuck here mourning. Escape this cursed town like I always wanted to, go visit Ma in the mountains and tell her I'll be seeing her soon.
I'm sorry,
Eddie"
Steve knocked on the side of the caravan and Eddie jolted looking at him.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, Stevie, don't worry, could you do me a favour though?"
Steve gave him a soft smile, "Sure, Eds, anything."
"Give this to my uncle, if I don't make it back."
"You'll see him yourself soon, I promise."
Eddie had given him a sad smile at that, and it had burned into Steve's memory just as the piece of paper now burned in his pocket. He knocked on the motel door. It opened and Steve took a deep breath.
"Hi, Mr Munson, I have a message from Eddie."
#the stemmed from me thinking wayne gave all the boys eddies rings#and thats y dustin has two rings#stranger things#eddie munson#ficlet#angst#open ending#maybe the message is the paper#maybe the message is that eddie is hurt but alive#steve harrington#steddie
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Lonely Once Again
Steve hated being alone. He was used to it, he had to be after ten years of his parents escaping Hawkins to travel by themselves and forget they had a son that needed them. But just because he was used to being alone didn’t have to mean he liked it.
The world was too quiet when it was just you in it. The creaks of the walls, the settling of the floor, the breeze rustling the outside leaves. None of it could stand up to the oppressive silence of it all. So he tried to fill it with people. He filled his home with parties and lured his friends into companionship with promises of beer and weed. But it never lasted.
Steve always ended up alone. When his friends left, he wasn’t shocked. When Nancy left, he wasn’t surprised. Hurt, but not surprised. He was left once again with his battered ego and the suffocating silence that always crept too close.
The Upside Down changed a lot for him. He got adopted by a chaotic group of children and enveloped into their Party. He gained a soulmate in his coworker that he could’ve sworn had hated him before. There was never enough room for the quiet when Robin was around. Her frazzled words and long-winded rants kept character in the air and scared off the threat of silence. Steve never felt alone when she was near.
Their last bout with the Upside Down brought tormenting nightmares, gnarly scars, and a foreboding sense of paranoia. But it also brought Eddie Munson. Eddie was the exact opposite of everything Steve hated in the world. He was larger than life, loud, confident, and passionate about everything he set his mind to.
It didn’t take Steve long to fall in love with him. He put off his declarations out of fear of being abandoned by Eddie, just like Nancy had all those years ago. He stayed quiet in his love, forcing the words down and isolating himself in the process.
But Eddie wouldn’t stand for that. He pried the words out of him with gentle hands and loud love. After that, Steve was never alone in the silence again. Eddie kept him happy with whispered assurances, loud music that screeched in off-keys, and random conversations that Steve couldn’t help but love.
#does this even make sense? no idea#I see Steve as needing alone time but hating the quiet that comes with it#he always has to have music playing or a tv going to cover up the ringing in his ears#Eddie has no problem obliging him#stranger things#steddie#ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley
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I just saw a proposal TikTok where the guy forgot the ring at home and ended up just proposing later that day when they got back from their outing. And it got me thinking about Steddie so imagine:
Eddie finds and purchases the perfect ring for Steve and hides it somewhere safe. Somewhere Steve would never ever find it. And then he starts planning the perfect proposal.
But when the day finally comes he can’t find the ring. (He canonically misplaced drugs in his trailer, he would definitely lose an engagement ring okay!). He’s frantic and frustrated and being a total baby about the whole ordeal.
When Steve finally gets Eddie to fess up to what’s bothering him, he admits that he was going to propose tonight but the whole plan is ruined because he lost the damn ring he spent a small fortune on.
Cue Steve calmly walking out of the room, leaving a confused and distraught Eddie spiraling thinking he’s really fucked up this time, only to have Steve reemerge with the ring box in his hand.
“You mean this ring?”
“You motherfucker I hid that so you wouldn’t find it! How long have you know about it?!”
“Six months,” Steve admits sheepishly. “It’s a good thing I did though. Now you can propose!”
#steve tells eddie later that he didn’t look at the ring so he could still be surprised#Robin is the one who confirmed it was a ring#steddie#Steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson ficlet#Steve harrington ficlet#steve harrington/eddie munson#Dani writes
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You say Siren Eddie, I say Diver/Tour Guide Steve
You say Steddie in an aquarium, and I bring you ‘the owners don’t know Eddie’s a siren, and the staff keep going missing. Someone takes him out of the tank so Steve can clean it except they never actually got him out, and he didn’t notice cause the tanks so damn big, so Steve’s stuck in there with this thing that’s been after their staff.’
The aquarium is closed over the weekend too, so unless Eddie releases him, he’ll die when his oxygen goes out.
Something something Eddie makes sure the other fish in the tank stay away, especially the more aggressive ones, and lets steve go when he has thirty minutes of air left.
And since Steve didn’t disappear, the owner keeps assigning him that tank. And Eddie keeps following him around as he cleans up all the bones that are seemingly human, and making jabs that he can barely respond to, plus bringing him some dead fish and shells.
The disappearances continue until the owner is like ‘Okay Robin I need you to go in with Steve to make sure something doesn’t happen to him.’
They get in the tank and Eddie is immediately attempting to murder her, his fins are up gills are flaring, and Steve has to hold him back.
“Stop being so goddamn hostile!!” It comes out warbled and muffled because of the mask, and the fact that they’re in water.
Robins going forward and Eddie is making a shrieking kind of noise, when she gets too close he starts snapping his teeth and Steve pinches him hard.
He stops shrieking, and instead yelps, “Ah, what the fuck man?!”
“You were trying to eat her!”
“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck…” Robin backtracks to the wall of the tank.
“So? Why’s she even down here? You’re the cleaner.”
“Cause people keep disappearing.”
“We’ve already established I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“Yeah, but they don’t know that. They don’t even know it’s because of you.”
He doesn’t kill her, and she keeps coming to the cleanings but stays far away from Eddie. The disappearances stop, and the owner decides that he doesn’t have to clean the tank as often.
Eddie starts missing him, so whenever Steves in-front of his exhibition, he’ll press his face against the glass and just stare at him creepily.
Maybe it’d be funny if he yelling his name and banging on the glass.
“Steve!”
His eyelid twitches, but he continues with his facts for the kids in-front of him. There’s bangs on the glass behind him. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”
I just think it’d be neat.
Bonus point if the party are all kids who’s parents work there, and they get brought to work everyday after school.
#do you see the vision???#steves talking to a coworker by the tank and he’s glaring at them while making his bubble rings#nancy is there to do a report on the disappearances and comes back a couple times to talk to steve#anytime her eyes get a littlr glazed he has to bang on the glass so eddie knows to knock it off#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things ficlet#steddie ficlet#crisisinverted17
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Prompt: 3! 2! 1! Happy New Year (Discord Drabble)
(screw it, I'm writing another New Year ficlet. This one goes out to the lovelies in the guild server.)
"Do it!" Robin stage-whispers in Steve's ear.
He startles, tearing his eyes away from Eddie, standing on the other side of the living room where he is gesticulating widely to Jeff about god knows what. Steve turns to find his best friend sipping from a solo cup that, at this point, seems to be glued to her lips.
Robin belches low, the cheap beer from the gas station practically emanating from her body.
"What about Vickie?" he retorts.
"I will be kissing Vickie, thank you very much!" Robin replies, eyes glazing over and humming into her cup, "Already arranged."
She takes a loud slurp and frowns into the presumably now empty cup.
Steve looks at his watch.
11:59.
Shit.
"It's almost midnight!" he frets.
Robin's wide eyes dart around the room until she spots Vickie, waving about her solo cup and looking just as intoxicated as pretty much everyone else. Steve feels like the odd one out, only slightly buzzed himself as he looks for a clear path to Eddie, his house filled with partygoers like years past.
Robin charges off, pushing past him and running straight into Nancy, who knowingly steers her in Vickie's direction.
"30! 29!" Argyle and Jonathan screech above the music.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Steve takes off, striding across the room to Eddie. Jeff smirks as he steps aside and Steve takes Eddie's hand.
"Come with me," he says, pulling him in the direction of the kitchen.
"Sure thing," Eddie says, downing his own drink and tossing it over his shoulder.
The copious discarded solo cups are a problem for 1987 Steve.
They break away from the crowd into the hall, where only a few people are lingering.
"15! 14!"
"Quick," Steve panics, yanking Eddie into the kitchen and eliciting a yelp.
Eddie spins into his arms, hiccuping in his face.
"Oops," he says, covering his mouth, "Sorry."
"No need," Steve smiles, rubbing his hands up and down the backs of Eddie's arms in a soothing motion.
It's probably stupid – waiting this long. Waiting since Spring... Since hospital stays and visits... After months of Robin's matchmaking and Jeff's meddling and quips from Dustin... After sleepless nights and nightmares endured together.
Holding Eddie like this now suddenly feels so easy.
Like it's meant to be.
"Hi," Eddie says, voice low as he snakes his arms around Steve's waist.
"5!"
"Hi," he smiles.
"4!"
"Kiss..." Eddie mutters, eyes flitting to his lips.
Steve doesn't wait – he can't as he surges forward, kissing Eddie for the first time a second before midnight.
Kissing Eddie Munson well into the New Year...
#lilys drabbles#don't mind me i'm just gonna write steddie ringing in a new year a bunch of different ways#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#stwgdailyprompt
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Steve had always thought his house was haunted. It wasn’t until the bodies started showing up on the front porch that he suspected it was something more sinister.
The Harrington house had an air about it, with its elongated, hollow halls resembling gaping maws come sundown and all the familiar clicks and ticks that came with living in an enormous house alone. The pipes rattled like cuffed hands clapping when Steve stood beneath the shower spray. The wooden walls warped with the seasons, making all sorts of odd creeks. Then, of course, there was the wildlife, the shrieking of nightbirds and nocturnal creatures in the woods around the house.
He used to think the haunting was the extrapolation of an overactive imagination. It was the reanimated corpse of a broken home. Sometimes an open window would blow shut a downstairs door, letting Steve think for a moment his parents had returned, only to find a silent house at his feet.
After his first run-in with The Upside Down, he got paranoid. He slept with his bat by his bed, bolted the windows and checked the locks twice before going to sleep. Nothing ever happened. Each time the paranoia waned, another apocalypse would rear its ugly head, and he’d be back to the old routine.
March 1986 sent him over the edge with Vecna's disappearance, Max’s coma, and Eddie’s death. He made new sets of keys, figuring with Hawkins being the way it was, his parents would avoid the place like the plague. He borrowed one of Nancy’s guns and kept it in his bedside drawer. However, unlike in other years, the house was anything but empty.
He’d wake to the sound of slamming doors in the middle of the night and walk downstairs to find all the kitchen cupboards open and the front door ajar. Things escalated quickly. By mid-May, he was finding dead animals on his doorstep.
He’d held back vomit one morning when he’d stepped out onto the welcome mat to find his once pristine white Rebooks wedged between the ribs of a coyote. The creature was pallid to the point of purpling. The front yard was a crime scene, the neatly cut grass streaked with blood. It seemed like the blood was everywhere but within the animal. It’d gone cold and stiff in the night.
The next week it was a fox, the week after, a possum. Steve became more well-acquainted with death. He’d thrown house parties every week back in high school, and knew about deep cleaning, burying any trace of what a state the place had once been in.
At first, he’d tried to think rationally. He tried to make some excuse about the change in weather, bringing the creatures to his doorstep. He’d even mentioned it to Robin, who’d been appropriately disgusted but level-headed. After all, the town had almost been cracked into a hundred little pieces months before, and nature acting strangely was expected. Every other day a bird would take a nosedive into the video store window.
Steve became good at explaining these instances away until he found the final body on the floor of the living room. It wasn’t dead, but it should be.
The familiar sound of a slamming door roused Steve from his sleep. He grabbed the gun and headed downstairs only to find himself looking down at the familiar body of a boy, sprawled out on the living room carpet. His form was covered in fading scars, his pale skin ashen with the transparent sheen of death. It was Eddie. The boy Steve had watched die.
Steve saw the man’s chest rise and fall in languid gasps. He was dying at his feet all over again, and Steve was too used to strange things to question the authenticity of the sight before his eyes.
“Eddie?” Steve choked, disbelievingly watching as Eddie’s eyes sprung open. He’d known them as warm brown coco, but now they were gaping black pits, open yet unseeing.
“Stevie?” He echoed, sounding disorientated.
“It’s so freaking cold,” the boy huffed, attempting to sit. It was an echo of a conversation they’d had while Eddie was dying. Maybe Steve was dreaming.
He dropped the gun and helped pull Eddie into a sitting position, one hand on the back of the boy’s knee, the other on his shoulder blade. His hands were covered in blood, but Steve couldn’t see an injury.
“I was looking for you... thought you’d know what to do. Jesus Christ, you’re warm,” Eddie hissed through chattering teeth, his whole body leaning into Steve. They were on the cusp of summer and Steve was sweating, while Eddie was as cold as death.
Steve felt like he was standing on the edge of a steep cliff, being asked to jump. Something primal in the base of his brain was screaming for him to turn tail and run.
“You died, Eddie. I saw you, you shouldn’t be here,” Steve let out a string of incoherent ramblings. The boy couldn’t be alive.
Eddie curled further into himself, into Steve, a quiet groan escaping his lips.
“Can we save the crisis for later? I’m so damn hungry, man.” Steve nodded and pulled Eddie to his feet, leading him by the wrist to the kitchen.
He switched on the lights and watched Eddie wilt beneath them, using his hair to shield his face from the brightness. Steve, oh too familiar with migraines, flipped the lights back off, letting darkness swallow them.
He poured Eddie water from the sink and watched him inhale greedy gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing while a vein in his neck throbbed. Steve scraped together food from the fridge and watched as the man ate with the same frenzied fervour, before spinning on his heels and throwing up in the sink. Steve cringed but rubbed circles across the man’s back.
“I feel like I’m dying,” the boy groaned.
Steve couldn’t tell him he wasn’t. He didn’t know what was happening to Eddie, but he knew he didn’t want to watch the guy die again.
Steve felt Eddie’s body trembling beneath his fingertips. He rubbed his hand down the length of Eddie’s arm, trying to warm him.
“I’m going to get you a blanket,” Steve spoke, backing away from Eddie, keeping his eyes on the boy until his back slammed into the doorframe.
By the time he gathered the sheets from the upstairs closet and returned to the kitchen, Eddie was gone. The only trace left of his visit was the open front door and the bloody handprint on the sink.
After that night, Steve stopped locking his doors. He didn’t tell anyone he’d seen Eddie. They’d think he was crazy. He thought he was crazy.
It would be weeks before Eddie woke him again. This time, Steve was startled by another body sliding into bed beside him. The room smelled of rotting fruit and iron. Sickly sweet and coppery. Steve rolled over, finding himself looking into the vacuous black eyes he’d come to know as Eddie’s.
“Are you real?” Steve murmured, almost certain he was dreaming.
“Last time I checked,” Eddie grumbled, still shivering.
“Are you the one leaving the animals on the porch?” Steve asked. He’d been doing a lot of thinking, and contrary to popular belief, if pushed, he could put two and two together.
Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His face spoke volumes.
“It works in horror movies,” Eddie grumbled.
“Did it work?” It surprised the both of them how non-judgemental Steve’s tone was, as though they were discussing the weather.
“No,” Eddie confessed.
Steve felt the same sinking sensation he had when Eddie first appeared, but he never was one for running from danger.
“Do you think something else might?” He tried to remain cool, but his heart was a kick drum in his chest. Steve was good at playing the martyr. That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified each time he did it.
“Satanic Cult Leader Lays with Hawkins High King and Local Golden Boy, Luring Him into his Ranks Through Blood Sacrifice. That headline has a nice ring to it, huh?” Eddie teased, putting on his most dramatic news anchor voice, shattering the illusion as he stuttered the final words out through chattering teeth.
“It’s a little wordy, and ‘lay with’ are we five?” Steve grumbled, trying to help Eddie by moving closer to the boy.
“I didn’t mean to imply...” Eddie grumbled. Despite his decrepit state, he still managed to look like a deer caught in headlights.
Steve shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t care that you did. Do you still feel like you’re dying?”
Once more, Eddie’s silence spoke volumes. Steve knew he was about to do something stupid, but chose to do it anyway.
“I want you to try it,” Steve insisted. Instead of moving closer, Eddie shuffled further away, going to stand when Steve reached out, catching him before he could recreate his disappearing act.
“I know what happens to you in horror movies, Stevie,” Eddie whispered, shaking himself from the boy’s grip.
“Only the predictable ones,” Steve argued, sitting up in bed.
“I don’t want to kill you.”
“And I don’t want to watch you die again, so just hurry up and get it over with,” Steve hissed.
“Christ, you have a death wish,” Eddie grumbled but returned to the bed, sitting cross-legged opposite Steve.
The two boys sat, looking each other over for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Steve watched as Eddie’s eyes became darker. The moonlight from the window turned his skin the same silver, blue as the night. His lips purple. His cheeks hollow. The veins across his face appeared like a million little highway lines cutting across the map that was his skin.
“Can you hurry up?” Steve spoke, feeling his nerves stretched thin.
“Sorry, Harrington. S’not like they give you a manual on this shit,” Eddie complained, leaning over and gathering the gun from Steve’s bedside drawer, switching off the safety and placing it in Steve’s right hand. He took Steve’s free hand with a beat of hesitation.
“Here’s something I thought I’d never say. Harrington, I give you consent to shoot me if shit goes sideways.” Steve’s eyes swelled wide, but he nodded to show he understood.
The idea of something was always worse than the real thing. He shut his eyes and tried not to squeeze his finger on the trigger as a sharp spasm of pain shocked up his left arm. The sound was worse than the pain. He could block out the sensation as time went on. It was hard to ignore the intermittent slurps or smacking of lips. Just when the world started to blur around the edges, Steve felt Eddie pull back.
“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie apologised as he grabbed a shirt from Steve’s things, trying to wrap it around the wound.
Eddie’s face was a sight to behold. Blood painted it from nose to jaw, a pool coagulating at the corner of his lips. That was the thing that tipped him over the edge. Steve felt the world go dark.
He woke hours later. The curtains were drawn, and he felt a body by his side. A warm body. Steve rolled over, surprised to find Eddie’s face pressed into his side. The boy was deep in sleep. Steve glanced at his mangled wrist, finding it wrapped in gauze, unsure where Eddie had found it.
Steve supposed his life was never going to be normal anyway. He might as well let it happen. At least he wasn’t going to be alone in the house anymore. If Eddie was alive, Steve couldn’t be haunted.
#steddie#steddie au#ficlet#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#kas eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things 4#st 4#tw violence#tw blood#tw gore#horror fiction#I haven't gotten much into#Kas Eddie#but I wanted to throw#my hat in the ring#because I love horror#and will write it any chance I get#also thanks to everyone#who comment on my posts#or leave stuff in the tags#I do read them so ty#Metalhoops writes
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4
Eddie takes the piece of metal for the new piece and runs his torch along it. The flame flickers against the silver as he does, white hot.
But instead of bending it quite yet, he hammers down on it roughly before flicking the flame over it again. He bends it around the sizing device, still estimating Steve’s ring size to be just under his.
Once it’s shaped and melded together, he hammers it more, giving some of it a rougher edge.
The next part is tricker, the oxidation process.
Eddie is grateful his uncle stays out of his room and his business, he’s sure by now that the noises that aren’t just Iron Maiden or his own musical talents have caused confusion and intrigue.
He meant to tell his uncle about his jewelry, but honestly it made him nervous for people to see his work and know it was his. Like suddenly they’d change their minds and decide it was actually quite shit.
Especially the person he was giving most of his projects to.
Eddie takes out the clean plastic box from under his work station and puts a paper towel on the bottom, soaking in ammonia. He covers it with a plastic lid after the smell hits him and opens his tiny trailer bedroom window.
Realistically, he shouldn’t do this in the confined space, but he figures he’s inhaled enough bad shit; he’ll survive.
Eddie opens the box again to take a piece of tinfoil next and puts it in the middle of the box for the ring to sit on, then rolls the ring in the ammonia. He pours salt onto the ring, focusing on the spots he hammered more.
Placing it on the tinfoil, Eddie smiles to himself. This piece is going to be beautiful, but it’s also rougher than the last few pieces.
Steve would probably think his secret admirer, a woman no doubt, bought it from somewhere a little edgier. Eddie sighs at that thought, wishing he wasn’t such a coward. Wishing he could just tell him outright.
But it really wasn’t that simple.
As Eddie sketches out the final details of the ring, he hears the front door open, figuring Wayne might’ve come home on lunch. He had been doing that a lot lately, coming home from work to eat, to check up on Eddie.
But Eddie startles when he turns around to his own door swinging open, something his uncle would never do without knocking and waiting on an answer.
Mike Wheeler and Lucas Sinclair stand in his doorway, arguing something about their character sheets for the next campaign and apparently needing Eddie to be the tiebreaker.
Before he can hide the sketch or the box with the ring—
“What’s that?”
They ask it in unison with wide eyes and pinched noses, staring at the box containing his next secret gift to Steve.
“Nothing,” Eddie moves it aside with the sketchbook on top, trying to walk forward until they all go into the living room. He isn’t that lucky.
“It looks important,” Mike tries to look over his shoulder at the work station.
“Yeah, looks like a secret,” Lucas so helpfully chimes in, little shit.
“Can you guys drop it? What’s this about your—“
“We can stand here all day,” Lucas folds his arms with a smirk, nudging Mike’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m what Nancy likes to call ‘insufferable’,” Mike follows up, and Eddie has to stop himself from snorting at that.
“Fine! God, you guys are the worst and I’m starting to regret bringing you under my wing,” Eddie doesn’t, not once, but who is he if not dramatic, “you have to swear to secrecy of the highest level. It’s quite literally life or death.”
They exchange looks and then smile wide at Eddie, nodding in agreement with the terms. He takes a deep breath and starts.
“Eww, seriously? Steve? Like my sister’s ex, that Steve?!”
“For the millionth time, baby Wheeler, yes. Like your sister’s ex,” Eddie rubs his temples, having to literally repeat himself for the last twenty minutes.
The boys finally stop asking questions shortly after, at least about Steve.
“So how long does it sit like,” Lucas gestures vaguely to the now fully covered box, “that for?”
“About twenty four hours,” Eddie answers.
“So you make your own? All your rings and chains?” Mike asks, seemingly dropping his whole Steve grudge. For now.
“Yeah, have been since I was sixteen probably,” Eddie outstretches his hands and stares down at them himself.
“Cool,” is the last thing Mike adds before they seem to move on from the subject all together and ask about their character sheets once again finally.
The night becomes an ongoing argument, Eddie having to break them up multiple times. But he can’t help but feel a little relieved from being able to have people who know about his secret.
The teens leave late with promises to keep everything under wraps, they of course both want updates, even begging to come with to drop the next ring off. Eddie says he’ll think about it, but they’ll be louder than his clunky van so he’ll just tell him later he forgot.
The next afternoon, the ring is ready to pull out and he looks it over with pride. Taking fine grit sandpaper, he rubs over the piece and inspects it thoroughly to make sure it’s ready for final touches.
Taking a silver wire that he already prepped, Eddie takes jewelry pliers and wraps it around the thinnest piece of the ring. He fires over it and looks it over one last time.
It’s everything he wanted it to be, nothing else he’s given Steve has looked like this.
Smiling to himself, Eddie puts it in it’s box and writes the note to accompany it.
‘Stevie, something different.’
#okay i really can’t update for a few days due to my bestie’s funeral LMAO#it’s not funny but he loved the fact i wrote fanfic he found it intriguing#also i had to do research for this and I’m probably still wrong#but i hope this part 3 feeds you guys for a few days#each part gets longer lmfao#also these are now linked in my pinned!!!!#ALSO THE USUAL SUSPECTS ARE DUSTIN AND MAX BUT I WANTED TO DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT#it’ll be funny af in the end reveal btw#it loops back around why i told these guys first#steddie ring ficlet#part 3 of steddie ring ficlet#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#mike wheeler#Lucas Sinclair#hellfire boys#hellfire club#steddie ficlet
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they're making out on eddie's couch one night when eddie murmurs "we should get hitched" against steve's lips. steve's hand is cupping eddie's throat, his thumb rubbing his collarbone. they're both high, kisses lazy and heads fuzzy and they're both half dressed.
"mh, yeah?" steve asks, his lips never fully leaving eddie's.
eddie nods and pulls steve closer from where his hand is splayed on his lower back between him and the couch.
"yeah. get hitched and then dump this shithole." he nips at steve's jawline as he kisses down to his throat. steve lets out a contented sigh and tips his head back against the arm of the couch, his other hand tangling in eddie's thick hair.
neither of them will pretend like they haven't thought about it; the kids are off to their respective colleges in a couple weeks, and robin and nancy have already moved out of hawkins and into their own apartment in ohio. other than uncle wayne, there's nothing else holding them to their small town.
steve pulls eddie back up from where he's working on leaving a second hickey on his skin and kisses him, running his tongue across eddie's bottom lip like a tease.
"let's do it."
eddie grins down at him, big brown eyes shining. "yeah?"
"yeah." steve has a matching expression with flushed cheeks and red lips.
eddie sits up a bit and pulls the ring off his right ring finger. "better make it official then, before you change your mind." he winks at him and kisses the ring before he slides it onto the same finger on steve's right hand.
steve lifts his hand to admire it and he hears eddie's breath hitch along with his. steve never thought he'd be into wearing any kind of jewelry, but this one looks like it belongs on him. eddie takes his hand and kisses the ring again, and then kisses steve, deep and slow, cupping both of his cheeks.
they can't do it legally, of course, it'd be in name only. a private thing between just the two of them and their small gang of friends. but they'd be fine with one day in the future. after a handful of years fighting monsters from hell, they deserve quiet and happy.
harrington-munson has a nice ring to it.
#steddie#stranger things#steddie ficlet#i thought about eddie proposing to steve with one of his own rings and this happened#cj talks#cj writes
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One word prompt, diamond.
Steve was seriously looking for a ring. While he knew they couldn’t get married, Eddie still deserved a symbol. Steve didn’t wear jewelry -not until Eddie gave him one of his rings and made him the guitar pick necklace. He never took them off. It wasn’t going to be flashy with diamonds, but it was gonna be special. He knew it the second he found it: a black serpent ring with small ruby eyes. So, there was a little shine and sparkle. Steve was nervous. He had the ring in his pocket while they were watching Lord of the Rings for what had to be the fourth time. Eddie was busy mouthing the lines, and that’s when Steve took out the ring and slid it onto Eddie’s ring finger.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie muson#rings#engaged#stranger things#snake ring#steve x eddie#one word prompts#writing game#ficlet
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Nest | Part 2
A Steddie A/B/O ficlet
The welcome packet was a scripted welcome delivered so robotically that Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, it eased the tension, it did its job. It was also an informative tour of the room. The room wasn’t large by any means, the facility was underfunded, it wasn’t a five star hotel, it wasn’t even a three star hotel.
The room was around the size of a single-sized bedroom, with an ensuite bathroom attached with a bath/shower combo, and a toilet and sink. It had closet space, cupboards, a fold away bed, a few lamps, and a fridge to keep food fresh during the week.
Basic didn’t even begin to cover it. It was what was in the cupboards that made all the difference.
“Holy shit… that’s… that's a lot of blankets.”
“Hah, yeah, this is the soft furnishings cupboard, this is where you’ll find the basics for building the structure of a nest, pillows, blankets, there’s a fluffy rug in there for the base, have you… built a nest before?”
“I’m an omega dude, of course I’ve built a nest. But uh… it’s… it probably wouldn’t really… count I guess… it’s not—I’m not the best at it? The structure never really… stays.” It was a mess. It was an organised mess, that’s what Eddies nests tended to be. Just a big pile of stuff arranged in a sort of circle in his bedroom that just looked like he was adding to the mess that was already there.
Intentionally throwing his and his packs clothes on the floor in a sort of shape basically.
“There’s no ‘counting’ when building a nest, Eddie. A nest is unique to the omega, if yours is of the funhouse variety then it’s the funhouse variety, we can work with that.” He’d never been one for a perfectly perfect nest either, the magazines that boasted the perfect circular nest with perfectly tucked in walls and blankets artfully strewn and folded to create some kind of haven of comfort, it was all too artificial.
There was no personality in them. It was obvious at least several omegas at a time had built each of those nests and not one of those omegas would be fully comfortable in any of the end results.
“…We?”
“Yeah, we… if you want, I can help build it with you. Sometimes it helps to strengthen the trust between us and our patients to build the nests together” trust was important. “Sort of… mind-fucks the omega part of that brain of yours into thinking we’re mates, to be perfectly honest.”
“…Mates build nests together?” Hesitance, curiosity but seeped in hesitance, like he wasn’t sure if he should be asking, common for inexperienced Omegas.
“Mhm, sometimes. Sometimes the Omega can want to do it all themselves though, would you pref-”
“Help me.” Eddie had never had anyone to help him with a nest. His uncle stayed out of his way, didn’t want to even attempt to throw his hat into that chaotic ring, and while Eddie had always claimed that he was fine on his own… there was always just a lingering part of himself that wanted someone there to help him.
Someone to help him tuck in blankets properly, someone to help him find the perfect spot for the pillow he’d stolen from Jeff, or the flannel Gareth had given him, someone to help him find the perfect spot for that one oversized sweater he’d pilfered from Frank, or find a safe spot for the stupid graphic tee he’d snagged from his youngest pup, Henderson where it wouldn’t get soiled by activities.
He wanted someone there.
“Okay” it was that easy. Steve Harrington, of all the Alphas in Hawkins, was going to help him build a nest. Holy shit, thanks Gareth. Best wingman ever. “But first, the rest of the tour. That door there leads to an ensuite bathroom, it’s not big but it’ll do, the bed is fold away for space saving purposes, aaaaand—” He led Eddie over to another cupboard, lower to the ground and easily within reach of the open space on the floor where a nest could be built. “The contents of this cupboard will only be useful to you during the final stages of your heat, but it’s good to familiarize yourself with it and make your choices early so as to not overestimate what you can take in the moment while out of your mind.”
He crouched down and opened one of the doors, expecting the choked little sound Eddie made as he revealed what was inside. Heat aids. Ranging from small, to extra extra-large. All with knots. The small one's knot being about the size of his own fist.
“I don’t need to know what you pick, it’s none of my business, I wont be in the room when you use them. But it’s good to know which ones you want while coherent and lock away the others because a heat-broke mind will go for the biggest thing there to fill the ache and it’ll hurt you if you’re unprepared.” If he had no experience he meant.
An Omega, unlike what porn may suggest. Was not built to take something massive on the first go right out of the gate. Yes, they had ample amounts of slick, they self-lubricated enough to not need artificial lubricant, but stretch was still a thing that’d happen, and tearing was also a thing that could happen.
“…What would you suggest with what you know?” With what was on the clipboard.
“Have you used a heat aid before?”
“W-well, yeah I mean-pfft who hasn’t—of course I’ve use—”
“Eddie.”
“Shit’s expensive okay? I live in a trailer park for fucks sake, the only reason I can be here is cause my heat brain has become a danger to my own and others health. Not everyone can afford some fancy schman—” it was no longer optional for him, he had to have help. Steve was up, he was up on his feet and oh, oh now he understood the need for an alpha.
He got it.
The second that scent filled his senses, he got it.
Cinnamon, hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg, a warm log burning fire, and that voice, that soft crooning voice “easy… easy, it’s okay, Eddie, it’s okay, can I touch you?” He nodded, half expecting hands on his face or something but no, Steve kept it to his arms, his touch gentle, but grounding, those soft hazel eyes of his damn near hypnotic when mixed with that scent, all that building anxiety and stress just drifting away with each exhale “it’s okay to not have used one before, they’re not accessible for everyone, I know” his heats must have sucked.
“I’m older than you, Steve… it’s pathetic, I can’t even get laid by a fake dick…”
Steve couldn’t stop the little laugh even if he tried, just a soft little burst of laughter, thankfully… Eddie smiled over it. Just a little smile, a curve at the corner of his lips but it counted. His scent was levelling out, it counted. “Well, we’ll fix that this week, wont we?” Oh god they would, he’d fix it that week.
After that heat, he’d no longer feel the ache of a first stretch. Would he even remember it? Heat brains were so out of it he probably wouldn’t. Didn’t know if that was for the best or not. “…Should I have tried… y’know… to get laid before it came to this?”
“That’s not my place to say, Eddie, people go at their own pace. Think of it this way—” Eddie was honestly bracing himself for a sports metaphor or some shit, something he wouldn’t understand, and yet— “would you rather have a long, lengthy, slow paced campaign with intriguing twists, fun NPC’s, and unexpected turns, or a one shot that lasts ten minutes cause everyone rushed past all your cool little traps and NPC’s to reach the climax?”
“…Did you just D&D analogy me?” With accurate terminology?
“I did do that yes. Well?” He’d soaked up a lot while keeping Gareth company, the guy talked! Steve found it interesting. Eddie found that deeply attractive. Dammit Steve.
“…Lengthy campaign.”
“That’s what I thought. Now pick a heat aid and we’ll lock up the rest, professionally speaking, I suggest the small to medium. Small to start with to ease the stretch, but it won’t be enough to keep you satisfied, medium will do the trick for the long haul.” It was actually kind of impressive how nonchalant he was about it all. But Eddie supposed he did work there. That was his job.
Eddie would have probably spontaneously combusted by now if not for Steve pumping that calming cinnamon scent into the air.
“The long haul” Eddie parroted with a little grin
“Hey, that shit usually lasts the longest, you don’t wanna be stuck with a tiny heat aid for the entirety of it, I won’t be coming in to help you.” He was entirely on his own for that.
“Will that be okay though…?” Eddie picked out the two Steve suggested, the small being about the size of a coke can, while the medium held a little more length and girth to it. “If I’m—if we’re tricking the omega brain into thinking you’re my mate, wouldn’t I be freaking out if you’re not there for that bit?” Steve clicked the cupboard shut and latched it.
“You’ll have a weighted blanket that sort of matches my weight, it’ll have my scent all over it. That’s the best we can do. We’re not allowed in the room during that stage, hell even the cameras get turned off for your privacy.” Cameras off, of course nobody would be allowed in, anyone could take advantage with the cameras off “A female Beta will check on you regularly to make sure you’re eating and getting enough liquids, but for both your safety, and ours, Alphas can’t be in the room. I dont even get access to your door key when that stage hits, only a Beta can have access. But I will be there for the come down, I promise.”
“…The come down?”
“Ehh… kind of like aftercare, all the soft stuff you’ll be craving after all that intensity.” That made sense.
“W-What if I hurt the Beta that checks on me? I almost hurt Wayne, I’d definitely hurt a stranger.” A very valid point, he’d ask Robin what the protocol for that was, she’d know the specifics.
“We’ll make it work, Eddie… that’s what we do here, we’ll make it okay for you” that touch was back, gentle, he held Eddie’s biceps, thumbs pressing gentle circles into the fabric of his sleeves, Gareth was right. Steve was perfect, reassuring, and his calming scent? A dream. “You’ll be okay, you’re gonna get through this week, and everything will be okay.” It’d be okay, everything would be okay. “Now… how about we get started on your nest?”
Steve had no idea how much he needed dimples in his life, before a huge beaming grin introduced them to him. Good lord that was a smile.
He knew Eddie was all kinds of loud and theatrical from school, knew he laughed, he smiled, he lived his life in a way that he enjoyed regardless of what others thought of him, but… god that was a smile.
“You get the rug, I’ll get the pillows!” And he was off. Excitement replacing anxiety, a bundle of wild energy begging to be chased, and Alphas were nothing if not excellent at chasing Omegas, especially ones as cute as Eddie.
Part 4
#PirateWrites#NestFiclet#Steddie#CW: A/B/O#No Upside Down AU#Omegaverse#Omega!Eddie Munson#Alpha!Steve Harrington
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Future fic- Steddie?!
I had a lot of fun with this :3
.⋆｡°✩ 2015. The time has come. ✩°｡⋆.
At a few years off from fifty, Steve Harrington thinks he should be well and truly through with feeling anxiety so strong it threatens to take him out at the knees. Demogorgans, demodogs, Vecna, seventh graders... he should be over it. And yet, he's thankful he's sitting because his joints are feeling a bit like jelly, and he's been compulsively twisting the ring on his third finger over and over again, the metal warm under his fingers from how long he's been spinning it.
Realistically, Steve knows he's got nothing to worry about. Nancy's been on top of things since he'd asked for her help six months prior, and Robin's been on the warpath since that morning, arms loaded with coffee boxes from Dunkin' and a gaggle of adults Steve still sees as snotnosed little shit-heads in tow. Everything is going fine.
And yet he's expecting a dozen different things happening that will mess it all up, including but not limited to the Upside Down rearing its ugly head and ripping a portal through the middle of the Byers-Hopper's backyard, a shady government worker descending on the ceremony to say "Actually, there's been a mistake," or even Eddie finally deciding after close to three decades he can do better. All highly unlikely, but they run marathon loops through Steve's brain as he sits, knee jumping up and down, twinging on every third repetition.
It's only mid-afternoon; he's still got an hour before he needs to be downstairs. Each second that drips by, slow as molasses, Steve regrets losing the 'who has to walk down the aisle' coin toss. He's about to make a break for the window, just to get out of the room that Robin had locked him in once he'd started pacing, when the sound of the door knob jiggling catches his attention and draws his eyes.
Steve watches, blinking and a bit dumbfounded, as the lock clicks over twice and the door creeps open at a snail's pace. It makes sense why the motion brings to mind someone sneaking in because they are. Emerging from the other side of the door, Eddie in a half crouch, butter knife still held up to the knob he'd just jimmied open, beams at him. His hair, just as long as it was in 1986 but streaked through with silver-gray, is pulled off his shoulders in an artfully messy bun; he's not wearing his suit jacket or tie, barefoot in his dark red undershirt and black slacks.
He's gorgeous.
He's also in so much fucking trouble.
"Are you crazy?" Steve whisper-yells, leaning forward almost so far he topples off the end of the bed. Eddie winks at him, holds a finger to his lips, and closes the door behind him as he frogsteps forward as quietly as he can, only answering Steve's rhetorical question when he reaches his legs.
"Crazy about you, maybe." He's smirking, hands on Steve's knees to keep himself balanced, obviously pleased with himself. Steve is almost exasperated enough to push him over. Instead, he smiles despite the cheesy line and huffs a fond sigh, eyes closing as his forehead meets Eddie's when he bends to lean against the other man.
"Nancy is going to murder you."
"Only if I get caught."
Steve shakes his head and sits back up, one eyebrow cocked.
"You think she's not going to realize one of the grooms has gone missing?"
Eddie's smirk widens, and Steve wants to kiss him so badly that he aches for it (still, even after all these years).
"Not when she's fighting with Mrs. Byers over how the catering needs to be arranged." He sounds amused at having used an opportunity to sneak away, but Steve winces. Between the two women, it's a toss-up who will win, but if he had to put money on it, it's Joyce all the way.
Steve is brought back into the moment as Eddie reaches forward, teetering just a little in his squat, taking Steve's hand, the same one with the ring that Steve's been playing with.
"It's gonna be weird, replacing this." Eddie traces over the raised surface of the black skull ring he'd placed on Steve's finger back in 1992, a promise they're finally fulfilling roughly twenty-three years later.
"I told you," Steve says, turning his hand to tangle his and Eddie's fingers together, "I don't care if we do it with this or ring pops, just that we do it." And he can admit, having a semi-traditional band in place of the heavy jewelry he's worn for so long will be strange.
The expression that takes over Eddie's face can only be described as gooey, and Steve can't stop himself from dipping back in and pressing his mouth to the corner of Eddie's lips. The kiss doesn't stray away from chaste, mostly because even though Eddie isn't dressed yet, Steve is, and if he has to have Max do up his bowtie again, he's going to die of mortification.
"I promised," Eddie says, soft and low, bringing his free hand up to Steve's jaw, tracing the apple of his cheek with his thumb, "I was gonna do right by you, Harrington."
Steve smiles. He turns his head into Eddie's hand and kisses the curve of his palm.
Then he pushes Eddie away and bites back a smile when he falls right onto his ass with a loud thump that will no doubt be heard from the floor below.
"Then get downstairs and help so you can make me an honest man faster."
Eddie's grin is wicked, even as he stands and rubs at what no doubt will be a bruise.
"You're gonna be kissing that better later." He says, just as a call of "Edward Wayne Munson, you get your sewer-rat ass down here right now!" floats through the floorboards.
"Promise, now go. I don't have a lot of interest in marrying a corpse."
Eddie laughs, ducks back in, steals a kiss, and then, far too spry for his age and shit lungs, races back out of the room. Steve watches him, relaxes back against the bed, and finds that all his previous worries have been stolen, too.
Ficlet Bingo! (Still Squares Left!)
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Let's Do The Time Warp Again
steddie time travel s3 ficlet, Part 1
Ao3, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4
"Harrington! Customers!"
Pins and needles flood Steve's limbs as Robin's voice slowly comes into focus, his eyes still scrunched closed with sleep. The tiredness is heavy in his bones, like he's been asleep for years in the oddly cold back room of Family Video.
"Dingus!"
Steve doesn't even remember falling asleep on his break. Actually, he doesn't remember taking his break at all. Or even coming into Family Video. In fact, the last thing he remembers was covered in black and red slime-
"DINGUS! YOUR BREAK IS SO OVER!"
Steve forces his eyes open to witness the too-white walls of a break room that burned down a year ago. Frantic hands run over the garish blue and red of the tacky sailor uniform he hated, the same uniform he lit on fire in his backyard with Robin before the start of her senior year. Somehow, it's back. All of it. It's all come back to haunt him.
Robin from a year ago seems to also be back to haunt him -or maybe she's here as his savior- either way, she's just as loud as ever as she kicks the swinging door to the cramped back room in. It hits the wall with a crack, causing a jolt of both familiarity and dread to shoot up Steve's spine.
He waits for the tell-tale chime of a clock that was still ringing in his ears before he woke up in the summer of '85 or Robin's face to start warping into the melted mass of tentacles hiding in the Creel attic that will certainly become a common occurrence in his nightmares, but the only thing in front of him is Robin's all too common apathetic yet disappointed stare.
"I gave you an extra 7 minutes to sleep, but that little sampling-brat and her terror-troop are back for more and I swear to God, Harrington, I cannot deal with her again today, I just can't-"
Steve cuts off her ramble by scrambling out of his seat with more effort than either of them had ever put into this job, squeezing past her and out of the small doorway.
"Steve, where are you- hey!" Robin says as she latches into Steve's shoulder before he can finish his beeline out the door.
"I'll explain later if you still exist," Steve responds as he turns out of her grasp, shoving past the group of teens making their way into the store. He can hear Robin's small shouts after him, but her exasperation with him is nothing new and frankly the least of his worries.
Starcourt, somehow, is still standing. Clamping down on his rising heart rate, Steve glances around for any sign of the current date, or even year. Everything is exactly the same as it was a year ago, but Steve knows nothing he sees can be trusted. Not with the visions Max described, that's for goddamn certain. While he doesn't know enough science fiction shit like Dustin to know if he jumped universes or is in a different reality or whatever the fuck, he can at least place a little bit of faith in his ability to distinguish dreams and visions from reality.
His frantic pace along with the extremely out of place sailor costume draws in a few curious stares, but again, least of his worries. No one's faces warp into slimy horrors and none of the walls start crawling with vines, no flickering lights, no distorted voices in his head, no signs of the upside down at all. As comforting as that should be in theory, that means it's something else entirely and definitely something Steve can't figure out on his own.
He finds himself leaving a trail of pinches down his arm as he reaches the far side of the mall, posters for the theater coming into view. A particular poster catches his eye, BACK TO THE FUTURE highlighted in yellow and orange in all its sci-fi font glory.
Fuck. 1985. Again.
He presses his fingertips into the glass covering the poster as his breaths come out raggedy and sharp. C'mon, wake up man. It's all some weird ass fever dream, you probably just hit your head again.
He waits a few seconds and prays to wake up. Nothing. Obviously, he thinks. He's stuck, somehow, a year ago, with no clue how it happened or how to fix it or if anything here is even real in the first place.
Steve isn't the guy who comes up with plans, okay? That's more of a Nance thing, and Steve is totally fine with his role as the muscle. Unfortunately, right now there seems to be absolutely no Nancy Wheeler, and Steve has no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.
He steps back from the entrance to the theater and spins around probably faster than he should for someone who maybe just got shot through time, and comes face to face with a small music store labeled Hot Wax Records in some sort of groovy 70's style font. That's not what gets him though.
Steve stops dead in his tracks as he makes eye contact with the guy at the front desk. His hair's a little shorter than he last remembers it, hitting just above his shoulders instead of just below them. The man is wearing a familiar denim vest with slightly fewer patches and less grime than was on it when it was adorning Steve's shoulders, but familiar all the same. What gets Steve though is that the man at the counter is white-knuckling the edge with one hand while the other braces and claws itself around his neck, a look of equal parts horror and recognition strewn across his features. He looks on the verge of screaming, yet his eyes are forcefully locked into Steve's with a determination Steve had only seen from him once before.
They both falter a half step forward as Steve struggles to find his tongue.
"Eddie?"
#steddie#steddie au#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfiction#Shovel writes
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I've been having Steddie Dads & Surrogate Robin brainworms thanks to this ficlet by @unclewaynemunson so I had to write this quick thing. Hope you like it <3
EDIT - Now on AO3!
Eddie knew that there was a lot involved with surrogacy. As soon as it was on the table, a topic of discussion — Steve had dove head first into research, taking Eddie along with him. They’d be curled up in bed together, Steve flipping through a pile of pamphlets and magazine articles, with Eddie re-reading the hobbit next to him until Steve places a pamphlet between the pages of his book. Lazy afternoons spent in their living room, reading up on agencies, clinics, Eddie with his head on Steve’s shoulder so they can read together.
He knew there was going to be money spent, many many appointments made, trips to doctors and lawyers and other very boring, very adult, very important things.
What Eddie didn’t realise, was how much time was going to be spent standing in hallways, waiting for Robin to piss on a stick.
Each time made his heart clench, his hands shake, knowing that one little plus or minus was going to change the trajectory of his life forever. In a good way of course. Always a good way. Steve squeezed his hand, looking over at him with a nervous smile. Eddie squeezed back — the cool metal of his rings pressing into the warmth of Steve’s hand — and he thunked his head onto the wall behind him.
“Quit it!” Robin hollered, voice muffled through the bathroom door. “You’re making me nervous!”
“I thought you said you peed when you’re nervous?” Steve shouted back, tilting his head towards the door.
“Not when I’m nervous about peeing!” Robin replied, voice still raised and edged with anxiety. “So quit slamming the wall Eddie!”
“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie interrupted, brows furrowing. Robin ignored him and continued shouting through the door.
“It reminds me that you’re there, and you’re listening, and I get all nervous and I can’t pee-“ Robin started to ramble, words merging together as her voice sped up. “-because I know you’re there listening which I know is the point of this whole exercise. But there’s a lot riding on this, riding on me, and then I start thinking about how big this is for you guys — and also for me again — and what if my eggs don’t work? Or I’m a bad surrogate? And then I get even more nervous because I really want to do this for you guys! You two deserve to be dads, and you’re going to be so good at it, which we won’t know unless I can pee Goddamnit.”
Her words ran out, and Eddie could picture her taking a deep breath as she leant on her knees, hunched over her body. He smiled faintly, and thumped his head onto Steve’s shoulder — knowing Robin would shout if she could hear him thump the wall again. A part of him was tempted to — to see what she would shout through the door again — but he couldn’t do that to her now. Not when she was doing so much for them. So Eddie took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Steve’s cologne and their laundry detergent, letting it calm him as he gently starts rubbing his thumb across the back Steve’s hand.
“Deep breaths, Rob,” Steve said, voice warm and comforting. “You’ve got this.” A pause. “Need me to come in?”
“Maybe?” Robin says quietly, unsure, before quickly correcting herself. “No. Wait- no. I got this. I’ll run the tap and pretend you’re not there.”
“Just yell if you need us,” Eddie added, hoping Robin can hear him over the sound of the now running water. He tries not to think about it too much, make himself too nervous, or too aware that he was just standing in a hallway waiting for Robin to piss on a stick. Of course it wasn’t just any stick.
The three of them have done this a few times now, and it still hasn’t stopped feeling any less nerve wracking. So Eddie takes another deep breath, and lets his eyes glaze over the pictures and paintings Robin’s hung on her walls to distract himself.
There are a lot of photos of her and Steve from throughout the years, and Eddie smiles at the sight. Them in their Family Video vests, back in Hawkins. At a family BBQ in the Buckley’s backyard, hung next to a painting of a horse she got in an estate sale. One from their first apartment in Chicago. The pair of them at Robin’s college graduation.
A photo with Erica and Dustin as well — the infamous Scoops Troop — all of them eating ice cream together. A couple with her and Eddie, smiling and pulling faces at Steve behind the camera, next to a painting that Robin got at a thrift store because the Victorian lady in it looked like ‘a funky old lesbian, but in a haunted sort of way’. Steve had just said it looked sort of like his Grandmother, and Robin had snorted soda up her nose.
They had decided to do the test at Robin’s apartment, in a futile attempt to make her more comfortable. Or at the very least — less nervous than last time, where Robin had locked herself in their hall bathroom and made them go watch TV until she was done. It was negative.
Eddie closed his eyes. The waiting was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. Knowing that one mark on a piece of plastic was going to tell him if he and Steve were one step closer to becoming parents. Becoming dads. And all he could do was wait.
He was both eager for and dreading the answer. He wanted to be a dad, to give Steve his six little nuggets, to raise a family with him. But at the same time he was terrified of turning into his father. A no good piece of shit who was never fit to raise a kid. Steve had talked him down, calmed him, the first time he had a panic attack about it.
It was after their first appointment at the clinic, and he had held Eddie’s hand and had admitted that he was scared too. Scared of turning into his father. To sympathise, not to dismiss Eddie’s fears. It had helped, listening to Steve’s steady breathing and soft voice as he talked about how it was a good thing they were both scared. Means they don’t want to be the sort of men their fathers were. Steve didn’t think his father was worried about neglecting him, he just sort of did it y’know? Eddie had snorted, blinked away his tears, and had admitted that Steve was right. Steve said of course he was, because he knew that Eddie won’t turn into his father. He’s going to turn out like Wayne.
Eddie had cried then, and he could feel his eyes starting to go misty now, standing in Robin’s hallways with Steve’s hand in his. He tries to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s that successful. He knows he’s definitely unsuccessful when he feels Steve gently kiss the top of his head, lips pressing against his curls.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when they hear the click of the door opening, Robin stepping out into the hall with her hands behind her back. Eddie can feel his throat tighten, and sort of feels like he’s going to puke. Oh God, this is it. Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand, and they both whip their heads around to look at her. Robin’s face is unreadable as she looks down at her feet, and then up to them.
There’s a glint in her eyes now, a certain twist in the corner of her mouth, and Eddie can hear Steve’s breath hitch. She reaches behind her back, and holds the pregnancy test out in front of them. Their eyes are drawn to it like a magnet, desperate, eager, searching.
Eddie looks for the small screen on the side of the test and finds himself staring at a small, red, plus. His gaze snaps to Robin’s, eyes wide, and she’s biting her lips now, holding back the grin that threatens to take over her face.
He looks over at Steve only to find him looking back, his own eyes now glistening with unshed tears. Neither of them say anything as they look back at Robin. Not yet. It feels like as soon as they say anything, verbalise it, make it real, it’s going to hit Eddie like a truck. So he sits in the quiet of the moment, tearing up, Steve’s hand gripped tightly in his.
Robin’s voice is soft and low as she speaks, breaks the silence. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant,” Steve repeats in awe, almost reverential. His eyes shine as a stray tear falls. “Holy shit.”
“I’m pregnant!” She repeats, louder this time, no longer holding back a smile but grinning at them widely. Gripping the pregnancy test in her hands, she starts to jump and rock in place. As if her excitement is an itch under her skin she can’t get out. “It worked!”
Eddie hasn’t said anything, he doesn’t know how to. He know’s he’s standing there looking gormless, doe eyed and teary, mouth agape. It doesn’t seem real. It finally worked. Robin is pregnant and it’s theirs. He whispers. “You’re pregnant.” Then again, louder, as if repeating the words would make it more real. “You’re fucking pregnant!”
“We’re having a baby!” Steve says, words dripping with excitement and awe and almost disbelief. He lets go of Eddie’s hand, but before he can miss it’s presence Steve is throwing his arms around both him and Robin, drawing them in close.
Eddie’s really crying now, tears coming out in a flood and he can’t stop them. Above all else, above the fear and the anxiety and the weight of his father — he’s happy. He’s so fucking happy. Steve’s shirt is dampening with Eddie’s tears, and he can hear Robin sniffling herself. If they’re not careful, they’ll spend the whole evening crying in the hall. He leans over to place a wet smacking kiss on Robin’s cheek, and then turns to Steve to give him the same.
Steve turns at the last second, capturing his lips with his own. And then they’re kissing, and they’re crying, smiling through it all with Robin still trapped in a hug. She doesn’t seem to mind, laughing all the while, clutching the test in her hands like it’s made of gold. Steve pulls back from the kiss with a wet pop, and Robin beams through her own tears as Steve buries his face in her neck.
“Thank you,” Steve whispers, loud enough for them all to hear. “For doing this for us.”
“It’s an honour,” Robin replies, words honey sweet and oh so happy. She smiles at them, sniffling. “But if you think I’m not going to milk this for all it’s worth, you’re wrong.”
Eddie throws his head back and cackles.
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