LOST WIP - Whump Steve Harringotn

On my freaky close friends stobin shit

Robin was well aware her and Steve were closer than most friends, scarily so. They showered together when they were at her house due to her family not having a huge hot water tank like his. They slept in the same bed no matter whose house they were at, despite the fact they both slept naked due to overheating in their sleep. They had seen each other naked more times then they could count. They frequently went skinny dipping in his pool late at night. 

They were practically one person living in two separate bodies. They knew everything about each other. That included all the details of the other's sex life. They have had many conversations about what they prefer in bed, and Robin had a very vivid mental image of what Eddie Munson looked like naked, all the way down to the dick piercing, although she had never seen it firsthand. It didn't matter that Steve liked boobies. He didn't like hers.

So when she was sitting at home minding her business and got a snap from Steve along with the instruction to not open it in front of other people, she wasn't too concerned. 

Steeb: don't open that around other people

Bobin: what am i about to open??

Steeb: i just need to make sure it doesn't look weird before i send it to Eddie

Bobin: i think all dicks look weird babe. But ill look to make sure it doesn't look weidER than normal.

Steeb: hwo did you know it was a dick pic

how*

Bobin: what else would you send to eddie that im not allowed to open around other people?

Steeb: fair point

Bobin: lower the camera a little. Your dick looks short

Steeb: Thanks robbie. Ur the best

Bobin: you know we are the weirdest friends ever right? You just sent a lesbian your dick pic

Steeb: you had me grab ur boob the other day because you thought you had a lump

Bobin: i was CONCERNED

Steeb: ill text you later. eddie is calling

Bobin: take my stuffed animal off your bed. Sir franklin shouldnt witness such behavior

Steeb: on it. Love you bobbie!!

Bobin: love you stevie

free him

I need to see Steve at his breaking point, kneeling in absolute defeat. Whimpering, crying, sobbing with a sword under his chin forcing him to look up that man who is now nothing but a stranger.

But, once he was a familiar and friendly face around the castle. Often running around with the outcasts and playing music in the town square. Telling stories of great heroic adventurers to the children that flocked around him to listen. A tall but scrawny thing with a mouth that knew not when to bite its tongue.

Steven makes a pathetic image for a prince. His skin is stained with tears, grime, and blood. Blood from his knights. Brothers in arms that he’d known since he was a mere child.

He’s nothing now, has nothing.

A fallen prince awaiting death.

Edward has his dark tresses tied at the nape of his neck. His eyes are dark as night, focused and fierce in his gaze. His chest heaves and exhaustion is evident, but he stands proud.

Vengeful.

Such a far cry from the once cowardly and impish man that Steven had known him to be.

Even with the sting of betrayal, the broken bond among him and children, adolescents now, that he had come to care for… he understands why someone would follow him.

He has the stance of a leader and the final unwavering judgement of a king.

Humilated, he thinks of his people, the children (his children), and even the servants that had joined the revolt against the crown. He wishes them a better life, a kinder one than he and his parents had given them under their family rule.

Steven trusts… he trusts in his people’s judgment, despite it all, and their faith in their soon-to-be King Edward.

Accepting the fate of their decision, his cries quiet but he makes no move to wipe the mess he’s made of himself.

Steve raises his chin just a bit higher and tries to steady his breath. Leans his head against the sword that’s at the side of his neck now, a swing away from finality, and looks up at the people’s king.

“Whatever kind of king you choose to be,” his mouth is parched and heavy with the taste of ash, “be a loving one.”

His closes his eyes, and waits.

“Then, my first act as King will be that of good faith to the people. Prince Steven… I show you mercy.”

Oh Baby

Written for the @stmarchmm prompts “omega/omega” and “pregnancy” | wc: 816 | rated: T | cw: pregnancy and birth related anxiety, vaguely implied past abusive relationship (Billy/Steve) | tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Omega Eddie, no Upside Down, alternate meeting, pregnant Steve and birth coach Eddie, pre-relationship

———

Steve doesn’t know what he expected from a potential birth companion, but Eddie Munson isn’t it.

The man practically bounces into the consultation room, haloed by a head full of frizzy hair and carrying a haphazard stack of papers. “Hi! Steven, right? I’m Eddie.” He holds out a hand for Steve to shake.

“Just Steve, please,” he corrects. “Only my parents call me Steven.”

“Steve. Gotcha.” As he sits on the other side of the desk, he grabs a pen to note Steve’s preference in his file. “And what brings you here today, Steve?”

There’s something in Eddie’s eyes, deep brown, big and soft, that makes Steve want to tell him everything. He can’t smell him underneath the scent-blocking patches at his pulse points, only knows Eddie’s an Omega because it says so in the practice’s brochure, but Steve imagines a dark chocolate aroma that matches his eyes.

“Well, like I told the receptionist, I’m pregnant. Obviously,” he jokes, resting a hand on the gentle swell of his belly. “But it’s my first pup and I’m starting to, uh, freak out a little?”

Eddie smiles sympathetically. “What freaks you out more, the end product or the process?”

“Definitely the process. I’ve always wanted pups, I want her, it’s just… There’s a lot of painful and bloody stuff that has to happen to get her here. Steve lowers his voice, suddenly sheepish. “Which I knew in, like, an abstract sense, but it’s feeling a lot more real now that we’re past the halfway mark.”

“Totally normal,” Eddie reassures him, flipping through his intake paperwork. “Twenty-two weeks, huh? Looks like your OB is happy with how you’re doing so far. You’re not high-risk, no complications.”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, so far.”

“Any reason to think that will change?” Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks up at Steve. He’s too pretty to look so serious when Steve is just being ridiculous.

“My roommate,” he sighs. “I love her to death, but she can be…”

Eddie nods. “A little paranoid?” he guesses.

“It’s contagious, I guess. Robin tells me everything she’s read that can go wrong. Then I can’t help but worry, even when I know Baby and I are healthy.” Steve rubs his eyes, not tearful but exhausted.

“I gotcha. Sleep is already a precious commodity during pregnancy, and it probably doesn’t help that your Alpha is so nervous.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “Robin? No, she’s just a friend. My best friend.”

Steve must be imagining the relief that crosses Eddie’s face. “So Baby’s other parent…?”

“He’s not in the picture.” He lets own scent take on the sour edge it always gets when he thinks about Billy, hoping it will keep Eddie from asking.

Eddie simply nods and makes another note. “Okay, any other birthing support besides Robin?”

“Robin actually isn’t allowed in the room because I’d probably have to kill her, so…” Steve claps his hands on his thighs. “That’s where you come in, I guess?”

“Killing Robin falls a little outside my job description, but I do try to go above and beyond for my clients.” When that gets a chuckle out of Steve, Eddie winks at him. “But seriously, that’s what I’m here for. We’ll make a birth plan, work on whatever physical or mental preparation might help, and then I’ll be there for the main event. Anything you need, ice chips, a massage, a hand to hold, someone to yell at the nurses for you, I’m your guy.”

Steve bites his lip. He feels a little better already, just knowing he has Eddie in his corner. “That sounds like exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Excellent. I aim to please.” Eddie smiles at him. “Our receptionist, Chrissy, can get you set up for weekly appointments if that works for your schedule. Do you have any questions for me before we wrap up for today?”

Several, actually, but Steve knows better than to start asking if Eddie is single or into other Omegas. Instead he clears his throat. “No, I think I’m good.”

“All right.” Eddie stands, ready to hurry to his next consultation, and Steve fights down the urge to beg him to stay. Stupid hormones. “Well, Steve, it was a pleasure to meet you. If you need anything before your next appointment, give us a call.”

Steve shakes his hand again, relishing the warmth and strength of Eddie’s grip. “Thank you. Really, this has already helped so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“Me, too. Not to mention meeting the little lady.” Eddie inclines his head in the direction of Steve’s belly. “Just not any time soon, right? Stay nice and cozy in there!” he tells the baby. “See you both next week.”

As he watches Eddie leave the room, Steve knows the flutters in his stomach are from more than just his pup kicking.

He is so screwed.

Sometimes I think of a Steve Harrington that is absolutely exhausted by all the horror and bullshit and trying to keep the kids alive through said horror and bullshit, who watches Eddie rock up to him at the beginning of S4 with a dead eyed, flat stare.

"Steeeeve Harrington." Eddie taunts and peacocks and twirls around him, and all Steve wanted was for a couple months to process the trauma, maybe feel safe enough to start thinking about the future instead of stuck in a never ending anxiety loop of what might happen to Dumbass Near-Deatherson, should Steve go to college or move out of Hawkins (bc all the bad nicknames in the world won't erase the fact that Dustin's family, now. They're all family. And when they need help, they go to Steve.) and now he's suffering the unjust ordeal of being haunted by the high school drug dealer.

"His highness has come down from his castle!" Munson will crow, making a show out of Steve picking up the kids like this is a great battle of wits, a scoreboard between them and not like Steve is half dead on his feet, head aching, dreams full of too many teeth. "Quickly hide behind me, he'll try to cut off your heads!"

"Wouldn't he just cut yours off too?" Lucas asked, though the tone was slightly timid, Sinclair unsure if his joke would be well recieved.

(Steve doesn't care if the kid outright insults him. He still recalls the junkyard, the fight with Billy, the blood staining the kid's headband. Lucas lived, therefore, he can be a shit if wants.)

"Mine? Oh, the King wouldn't dare." Munson tosses his head, full of cartoon energy, too big for his body and grin both. "Many have tried you see, but no one had ever succeeded!"

Steve, equally, does not give a single shit that Eddie Munson has decided to play these games with him--until he realizes he's maybe been a little too exhausted and depressed and morose around the kids.

Watches them getting worried over him, whispering urgently and making dramatic gestures and talking to Robin and suddenly, playing a little tug of war over them the way Munson seems to want feels like a good idea. A way to hide all the rough edges, a way to be fine so they can be fine.

"How about you guys skip the dork brigade tonight," Steve taunts back the next time they're all together, standing like the man he used to be, wearing a dead personality. "And we go do something actually fun instead?"

Eddie laughs, lights up, is all too happy to match him tit for tat, and it's so easy to fake this kind of interaction, rolling his eyes and snapping his gum. Steve could match this energy in his sleep, and never once does Munson catch on that Steve's not doing this for him.

That he's not even looking at him half the time, eyes askew, locked on the kids. Seeing them relax as he banters, seeing Dustin glow as he returns to his favorite position, being the center of attention.

So long as they think he's okay, Steve will be okay. If that means putting up with Munson, then so be it.

Its not like he'll catch on.

Eddie doesnt.

(Or rather, he does--but Its months and several deaths later, when they're in the RV, chasing what feels like literal demons, does it dawn on Eddie what Steve is doing.

Has been doing, the whole time.

Steve, sassy, ridiculous, jock- brained Steve makes the mistake of doing it again, using the same trick he had on the kids to convince them he was fine on Eddie. To further convince Eddie that they were fine as a group.

That they'll survive, they'll figure it out, they'll make it.

Loudly bantering with dead eyes, smiling with a mouth robotically locked in. Jokes on jokes on jokes and all of them making the kids take their minds off VecnaHenryOne to screech ineffectively at their babysitter. Winks tossed to the girls, who both roll their eyed at him. A sly look given to Eddie, to include him.

Its then, that Eddie decides to cement his life with Steve's. Because this loyal bastard of a paladin is too good hearted to die, too protective to not try it anyway. The idiot is cutting himself to ribbons to tie them all together and Eddie can't undo the damage but he can grab all the pieces he can, loop them together.

He can make those dead eyes light up again.

And he does.

This time when things are over Steve finds himself unable to pull those little tricks of his. Every time he slides the mask over his face Eddie rips it right back off again.

They fight, a lot, until they start kissing instead and for a while that also, somehow, feels like fighting but Eddie's real good at this. The emotional part, not so much the kissing, but he knows how to draw Steve out. How to break down walls, and annoying his real personality out.

The kissing was just an odd little side benefit.

A thing they don't talk about.

There's a benefit to it, one he doesn't look very hard into, until strangely, one day, Eddie wakes with Steve's head pillowed on his shoulder and comes to the abrupt conclusion that he's screwed.

Or so he thinks--until bright, loving eyes blink awake, and turn on him, and Eddie realizes just how long it's been since they looked dead.

He wonders, vaguely, how long it'll take for Steve to catch on, that this just got serious.

Will laugh at himself when he learns that Steve already knew.

Guess that's what he gets for finally paying attention.)

The Gift the Keeps on Giving - Part 1

Steve’s always been generous with gifts. Growing up, he had access to money that allowed him to dote upon his friends and loved ones. His ex hated it, said he was flaunting his money, but Steve just liked showing people he cared. It wasn’t about the price of the gift, it was about how he listened and remembered their interests. It just benefited him that he never had to worry about the cost. 

He’s never hesitated to follow through on his gut instinct before, whether something will be too extravagant for the receiving party. Even when he got Jonathan that fancy new camera he wouldn’t shut up about, or Nancy that vacation to Singapore for Christmas after two years together. Even when it ended in breakups both times. He still looks back and remembers the appreciative smiles on their faces when they realized he was listening. He may not have been the right person for either of them, but he was still a good boyfriend. 

There’s no way he’s going to let this year be the first year he lets someone down. His current partner is a little eccentric. Steve was going for something different, he never really intended to find a local metalhead that was into his preppy, jock looks, but it’s been nice having so little in common. Every day he learns about something new, some new band or movie that even Robin hasn’t heard of before. It keeps things interesting. 

So when this hot new metal band Corroded Coffin comes onto the scene, it’s all Steve hears about for months. The album is on a constant loop in the car. The lead singer’s face is practically burned into Steve’s eyelids from how many times they’ve watched the music video for their radio single. He knows when they announce their first tour, he absolutely has to get tickets to the show. What are the odds that they’re playing in Indy and it’s right before Christmas? It’s perfect timing for Steve to make this the best Christmas ever for his boyfriend, who doesn’t have the extra cash lying around for an expense like that. 

Except, when he went to buy tickets, he got the date wrong. He should’ve set an alarm, instead of relying on his shitty memory. The presale happened the day prior, and tickets are gone. Resell prices for tickets are astronomical, something even Steve isn’t willing to fork out for what might not even be a legitimate ticket. He’s been burned before with scalpers, he won’t make that mistake again. He starts scouring the internet, trying to find another source for the tickets. Tries calling the venue to see if there are any available if he physically goes down to the ticket office. Nothing works. 

As the date creeps closer, Steve gets desperate. Robin throws out the idea of messaging the band to see if they’re sympathetic to his story. He never expects anyone to respond when they drunkenly reach out to the band, but he wakes up groggy to a message sitting in his inbox. He stares at his phone in disbelief when he sees the message came from the official Corroded Coffin account. 

Steve doesn’t even remember what he said in the messages from the night prior. He reads back over them and cringes. A not so coherent ramble about how he couldn’t become the worst boyfriend ever at Christmas of all times. Just word vomit everywhere about how this guy might leave him if he doesn’t get the tickets. Which is absurd, because his boyfriend doesn’t even know he’s trying to do this. Maybe he’s got some insecurities from past relationships. At least he didn’t bring up Nancy. 

The reply simply reads ‘Slow down there, pretty boy.’ 

He shakes off the last vestiges of sleep and responds ‘Sorry, I was a little drunk and didn’t think anyone was going to see or respond to this.’ 

The little grey dots pop up right away. ‘You weren’t the only drunk insomniac last night.’ 

Steve huffs a laugh. ‘How crazy do you think I am?’ 

He wonders where they are right now, if it even is one of the band members answering. They probably have someone running their social media accounts. He snaps back to reality when he gets another message. ‘I don’t think it’s crazy to want to make your boyfriend happy. I wanna help.’ And that’s how it starts. 

They trade messages back and forth. He finds out it’s not an intern running their account, that they all have access to it, but only one of them enjoys it. The lead guitarist Eddie Munson is apparently the one responding to him. He sent a picture of his guitar with a hand wrapped around it painted with black nail polish. The same hand that wraps around it in their music video, decked out in a dazzling array of chunky rings. 

He’s never talked to a rock star before. Sure, he’s met famous people through his dad, but they were the boring kind of famous, senators and CEOs. Eddie talks about the tour they’re on. It sounds grueling, like their record took off faster than they expected and now they’re on this whirlwind tour that they love, but it’s daunting having people clamoring over you just a few months after anonymity. 

Before long, they’re talking every day. To the point that Steve feels like he hears more from Eddie Munson than his own boyfriend. He realizes how much of a problem it is when Robin catches him smiling at his phone and makes a joke about being in the honeymoon phase, but he’s not texting his boyfriend. He’s messaging Eddie. How did he get so wrapped up in all of this that he didn’t even see how distant they’ve been? He looks back at the messages with his boyfriend and they haven’t text each other in five days. He can’t even count how many messages have been shared between his account and Corroded Coffin’s since then. There’s too many to go back and tally up. 

Is it emotional cheating if he didn’t realize it was happening? One day he barely knew who Eddie was, the next he was grinning in the car when his music came on, thinking of the silly thing they were messaging about last night. Their messages took a turn from him asking for something to getting to know everything about Eddie Munson’s life as a guy raised in a small town and catapulted into the spotlight, and Steve’s attempts to claw his way out of his father’s grasp and build a family he could call his own. The guilt slaps him in the face. He’s been messaging with one of his boyfriend’s favorite band members, and he has no idea. Telling Eddie Munson things he’s never admitted to his boyfriend. Laid all his fears, hopes, and dreams out there to the wrong person. 

He’s lost sight of what he even started this for, to win over his boyfriend and give him the best Christmas ever. It feels weird to bring it up now in conversation with Eddie. To ask for something like a desperate fan and remind Eddie that he’s a commodity to the public feels cheap. This all spiraled out of control so fast. There’s only one thing he can do. End it. Before this gets worse and he falls stupidly in love with some rockstar he’s never seen in person.

TBC

I hate when people ask me about my preference but I don’t understand their preference level. Like yes I kinda want Chinese food 10% more than I want a sandwich but if you want a sandwich like 40% more than Chinese food then I would say it’s totally reasonable we get sandwiches.

It’s ladies night at the gay bar Eddie works at which means no men allowed, which means, ‘how the hell did this dork in a polo make it pass the bouncer and how the hell has no one complained about him yet?’

Eddie watches the admittedly gorgeous guy approach the bar and ask for a drink. Eddie responds with, “How did you get past Frank?”

“The bouncer?” Pretty boy asks. “Oh, I asked if I could come in.”

“You asked?”

“Yeah?”

“And he let you?”

“Yeahhh?”

“None of these girls are going to go for you,” Eddie tells him in case he somehow missed that this was the queerest bar in town. “They’re lesbians. They like women.”

“I know!” The guy - Steve, Eddie will find out later - smiles, bright and big. “Isn’t that great?!”

Something in Eddie curdles with disgust because, “Nice try, buddy. You’re not going to ‘turn’ a lesbian.”

“Hope not,” Steve laughs and then pulls a stack of Polaroids out of his pocket. “Look at this.”

He holds one out to Eddie, showing him the image of a girl looking done-as-shit with the camera in her face. There’s a phone number written at the bottom.

“This is Robin," Steve says fondly. “Shes my best friend, and a lesbian, and the best person I’ve ever met, and I love her…she deserves a girlfriend so I’m-“

“Advertising her?”

“Helping get her a date,” Steve finishes. “This will make a great story at their wedding.”

“That’s insane…and strangely endearing.”

“Yeah, I’m like that,” Steve says, sliding over a Polaroid of Robin giving the camera the bird. “That’s my phone number too. Just so you know.”

Rabbit Hole

God, never Google when Season 5 of Stranger Things is coming out. I just wanted the release date, clicked on a link, then another… and suddenly there was fan art… and now I’m on page seven of AO3, deep in Steve/Eddie. Have you seen how long their fics are? What even is this? I have never seen a fandom so collectively committed to the idea that writing anything under 10k words is for the weak.

God, now I desperately want to write something for them, but I know if my fic is under the unspoken yet sacred threshold, I’ll be exiled from the fandom. God.

Bless this fandom. Seriously. You guys are amazing.