An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Back in the Fair Game Verse–
Peter Parker is a lonely wolf shifter, with no family left and no pack to call his own. An assignment to Willow’s Run as Professor Stark’s research assistant brings him face to face with the local wolf shifter pack led by the indomitable Alpha wolf Steve, his brutal Beta Bucky… and the mysterious shifter Wade who hides his scars and trauma in the shadows, but can’t help being drawn to the light in Peter’s smile and the claim of ‘mate’ in his weary soul.
*****
The wolf blurred human in the next blink, over tall and over muscled, every inch of his body scarred and eyes still lit amber, fangs out as if he were struggling to put his shift away completely, and Peter gasped quietly when his own shift stirred in immediate wanting response to the other wolf.
“Peter Parker.” Wade’s voice was hoarse from disuse, ragged from ruined vocal cords, his hand rough as he set it at Peter’s neck and bent in to audibly scent at his throat. “Who do you belong to?”
“You.” Peter shuddered as he felt his soul align with the other shifter, an echo of 'mine’ rolling through his consciousness as instinct and need clawed up tight in his chest. “…I belong to you.”
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
hell yes, an excuse to talk about more of my favorite fics :) again, going with stuff from the last year or so
Sweeter Than Fiction
At the end of it all, when the Witchers have united under Geralt’s name, when Geralt stands in front of them, when he tells them that in two days’ time they march for Ard Carraigh—
It’s Jaskier who first shouts his agreement, “White Wolf!”
The hall seems to hold its breath for a moment and then, a great rumble like thunder in the distance, coming from every voice in the hall, “White Wolf!”
Jaskier could swear, even though he’s only one of hundreds, that in that moment, Geralt looks directly at him, golden eyes burning into his soul.
Or: the first twenty years of the Warlord of the North's reign as documented by Jaskier of the Cats
Yeah, yeah, it's not finished and all that, but consider this! I love warlord Geralt fics, and I love witcher Jaskier fics, and I just really, really wanted to see these two ideas smooshed together
Ours
“Buck,” Rogers interrupts, appearing next to them. “You ready to go?”
“Just a minute, Stevie,” Bucky says smoothly. “Just wanted to see if Tony here wanted to know what it’s like to be appreciated.”
Tony is half-expecting Rogers to say something about him being Obie’s omega, but instead, he gives him an appreciative onceover and then says, “Does he know we come as a package deal?”
Tony’s brain shorts out at the suggestion.
I've never written a military AU before! This one was a lot of fun, and I loved getting to write the differences in the stuckony relationship vs the obie/tony relationship, plus getting to play a little more with gender biases in omegaverse fics than I usually do.
I Bet You Think About Me
The breakup wasn’t amicable.
Steve had always liked most of Tony’s friends. He’d gotten along well with Rhodey and Bruce and Pepper and Natasha. He’d even gotten along reasonably well with Happy, who didn’t like anyone other than May. It had been the other side of Tony’s friend group that Steve hadn’t liked and who had, ultimately, been the wedge that broke them apart.
I don't usually write bitter Steve, but this was a lot of fun to play around with. It was a challenge trying to keep Steve still Steve while also making him angry at the way things ended between him and Tony.
Your Laugh is the Best Sound
Steve tries (and fails) to make Tony a surprise breakfast after a night together.
Schmoop! Humor! Falling in love! All the best things!
Unbearably Adorable
Steve's boyfriend gets stuck in his animal form by one of Loki's spells. Somehow, this is not the hardest part of Steve's day (that would be the Avengers' Instagram account).
Cannot believe it took me, the bear mutual, this long to write a Stevetony bear shifter AU smh
I read this adorable fic, One Reason Why by @not-close-to-straight and I just had to draw Omega Prince Peter.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I wasn’t sure how big the collar was supposed to be, but I really wanted to make sure I could fit all the details, so I went a little wider. I know that it was described with silver clasps, and probably would’ve had silver detailing as well, but I thought the gold would match better with his gold-rimmed eyes. I added the honeysuckle, lavender and jasmine on the collar in gold and placed them on the frame as well.
I didn’t want to overwhelm with too much jewelry, so I just went with earrings and the necklace Wade gave Peter in the last chapter.
I need to get rid of this time consuming stress ball for me to fully focus on learning for exams, so i'll post this unfinished version of this on here. #steddieweek2023 for whatever day fits. @steddie-week
During the tail end of November 1984, the stars align in cruel and unusual ways: Eddie ends up sharing a compulsory Phys Ed. class with both Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove.
Eddie groans when he find out, slams his forehead against his locker when no-one’s looking.
And the thing is, Steve isn’t the problem, not really. In fact, if he had been sharing the class with Steve alone, Eddie might’ve even considered it proof of some benevolent God existing. He’d probably have a few stressful occasions of trying not to make a complete fool out of himself—team sports are truly the worst, although he’s secretly not that bad of a soccer player—but at least he’d have a… nice view.
But no. Instead, the almighty schedulers of the Hawkins High timetable have decided to light the proverbial fuse.
Because sure, Steve’s known for being competitive, even borderline pissy if things don’t go his way on the basketball court. One would probably be subject to his baleful eyes for, like, five minutes at most before he got over it.
Hargrove, on the other hand, is another kettle of fish. In fact, he’s in a completely different fucking ocean.
He stalks through the school like a bloodthirsty gladiator, treats the gym like it’s his personal Coliseum.
Eddie honestly doesn’t know what the deal is, but he only has to witness Hargrove stare at Steve once from across the cafeteria to know that he loathes him. And from the quietly venomous look Steve gave in return, the feeling is definitely mutual.
So now he’s got to suffer through an entire period of playing baseball outside with the pair of them glaring daggers at each other. In a hilariously misguided attempt at easing the obvious tension, the teacher’s put Steve and Hargrove on the same team: Hargrove’s a center fielder and Steve’s the pitcher.
It’s neck and neck. Eddie is the last up to bat.
He steps forward with sweaty palms.
He’s got absolutely zero interest in being witness to the Hargrove v Harrington dick-measuring contest for any longer than he has to.
Please just let the ball be caught immediately, Eddie silently prays. Make my execution swift and painless.
“Hey, batter, batter,” Hargrove calls with his usual menacing sleaze.
Fucking juvenile.
Annoyingly, when Hargrove predictably yells, “Swing!”, it still makes Eddie jolt, swinging the bat on impulse.
But Steve’s not thrown the ball yet; he’s still tossing it up into the air, like he’s got all the time in the world.
Okay, I know you’re pissed, but quit the mind games, Harrington.
Steve catches Eddie’s eye, gaze lingering too long for it to be a coincidence. Then he drops the ball.
Billy chuckles. “Still clumsy, huh, King Steve?”
Steve rolls his eyes. He bends down to pick up the ball.
Even from this distance, the fading bruise on his cheekbone is easy to spot.
Eddie doesn’t like to think about it too often, especially when paired with the nasty gleam in Hargrove’s eyes. It makes his stomach sink.
Steve picks up the ball with one hand, but he stays low, one knee to the ground.
And then…
When he speaks, his lips barely move. “Hey, Munson. Left-handed, right?”
Bewildered, Eddie nods.
Steve stands up.
Eddie’s expecting to be caught off guard, for the ball to suddenly spin towards him.
Steve shrugs one shoulder back, looks Eddie right in the eye.
He mouths, Ready?
… What the fuck?
Eddie nods again.
Steve throws the ball, and it feels as if it’s being drawn, like an irresistible magnet, right to Eddie’s bat.
Eddie swings.
Crack.
The ball soars.
Eddie sees Hargrove’s jaw drop, hears him swear as he dives for the ball. He misses, sprints after it as it speeds through the grass—
Steve laughs. “Dude, what are you waiting for? Run!”
Eddie does.
He hits a home run before Hargrove can even attempt to throw the ball near him.
Breathless and grinning, Eddie lies down with his back on the ground, as his teammates cheer.
But someone else is by far the loudest.
Eddie sits up to see Steve yelling in triumph, hands cupped around his mouth.
Then he winks.
And Eddie thinks he’s never seen Steve Harrington look more delighted to lose.
Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.
He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.
It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.
It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.
He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.
Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.
It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.
One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.
He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.
So what does happen to Eddie Munson?
He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.
He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.
There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.
Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.
He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.
He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.
He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.
The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.
Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.
Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.
It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.
And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.
He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--
"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."
Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.
It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.
It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.
Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.
Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.
The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.
He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.
This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)
Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.
He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.
He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.
He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.
He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?
Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3
There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating.
In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him.
“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?”
As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on.
You know, for fun.
With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?”
Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade.
Not of his own free will, anyway.
“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later.
“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.
A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once.
“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!”
He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”
“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”
“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day.
because i have so many, I needed to make a fresh post of them :)
some of these fics are found on tumblr, some on ao3, maybe some on wattpad? all of them are spectacular. i’ll tag the creators tumblrs if i know them :)
happy reading! <3
Steves First Bruise spiderman!steve x roommate!eddie - eddie has a crush on his roommate steve, who also happens to get into a lot of fights. he also ends up with a crush on spider man. how long will it take for him to figure it out he’s only crushing on one person? please its so adorable
Till I Kissed You steve x eddie - super angsty. eddie doesnt get the big deal about kissing, steve calls him a bad kisser, they kiss to test it out. oh god, now theyre both questioning everything. perfection.
The Boys Of Summer eddie x steve & wayne - for all you wayne lovers out there. steve dreams that eddies alive, he’s so sure that his dreams are real, he tries to break into the upsidedown by himself to get the boy he loved back. wayne tags along for the ride. please, this is so good it has me dying i love it so much.
Not Exactly Nappa Valley eddie x steve - ultimate fake dating scenerio. steve has a family wedding to attend and he wants to piss off his parents, so he brings eddie and they gay it up and… oh my god, plot twist, who wouldda thought they both harboured feelings for eachother?
Needles steve x eddie - eddie gives steve a stick and poke and he kinda gets hard because hes a sadist. steve gives eddie a stick and poke and eddie almost busts in his pants. its pretty funny and has some fabulous smut.
If Your Heart Surrenders steve x eddie - super angst. dates back pre s4 and is very soft and angsty and i loveee it. i binge read the shit out of it. it has a very sweet ending. an alternate version can also be found here on tumblr. @asbealthgn
Recipe For Disaster steve x eddie - princess diaries au?! excuse me, hello. this is everything to me. it is pure perfection. please give this a read because it has me sitting on the edge of my seat, biting my nails and pulling at my hair. everytime a new chapter drops i get so excited. prince steve?!? yes. yes yes yes. @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe
Crashed The Wedding steve x rockstar!eddie - steve is forced into an arranged marriage and eddie comes to save the day after nine years apart. HELLO this is amazing. pure beauty. please take the time to read this because it’s magnificent, makes my heart swell. it’s very very good. makes me feel things. i love them so much. @piratefishmama
Eddie’s Memory Log steve x eddie - eddie is in hospital post vecna and can’t remember anything, steve visits every day and writes down what eddie can remember - hint hint, eddie always remebers steve. this is so good, i love it very very much, please give it a read. @harmonictechnicality
This Love Came Back To Me famous!steve hopper x ‘dead’!eddie munson - steve rescued eddie’s guitar after his death and processed his grief through song writing, pouted his heart out into the lyrics and took the world by surprise. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH okay, just read it. it’s so fucking good. gut wrenching stuff, okay!? have a read. it’s beautiful. so fucking beautiful i was going through every single possible emotion known to man. @strawberryspence
Bad News First steve x eddie - steve grieves for eddie’s death and becomes close with wayne in the process, slowly falling in love with what could have been with eddie. until… I LOVE IT. it’s beautiful. one of my favs. @strangersteddierthings
Melt Me On Your Tongue wounded!sub!eddie x caring!dom!steve - this is a spicy one, basically pure smut, but it’s got a lot of feelings. i love the style, the atmosphere, and the feeling the author has created for this fic and steve & eddie’s dynamic. it honestly feels delicate to read, and i love it very much. highly recommend. very soft but very spicy and hot :) @steddielations
Black Out Days (Fairground Nights) - eddie x steve - no monsters, modern au. nancy and eddie are best friends, robin and steve are best friends. when nancy and robin date, steve and eddie clash… a lot. ‘tis brilliant. this fic is so fucking angsty, it’s got some really fucking heavy themes (please read the warnings before proceeding) but it’s written so effortlessly beautifully. this has easily become one of my favourites now. it’s more than worth the read. @azrielgreen
Eddie's first kiss being Steve Harrington, but not in the cute uwu post vecna fall in love smoochies kinda way, no.
In the "Eddie tripped over his own giraffe legs like an idiot and tumbled onto Steve Harrington and oh lips, in the MIDDLE of the school hallway." Kind of way.
Somehow I tripped and 2.6k words spilled out of me...
Warning for the brief and vague mention of queer used as a slur in the past!
---
"Eddie, you cannot be serious," Gareth snaps, "there's no way we can take on a beholder at the end of this dungeon."
"We're tapped out, man. I don't have any spell slots left, Grant's out of action surges, and we drank the last health potions after those stirge swarms you threw at us." Jeff leaned against his locker with a plaintive look at a grinning Eddie.
"Thanks for those, by the way," Grant said, sulking, and Eddie's grin simply widened.
Whipping out his arms, completely heedless of the crowd of students swirling around them – and the angry glares those that had to duck around him sent his way – Eddie said, "You are ever so welcome! Need I remind you all that this is what you asked for when you said you wanted a challenge?" His friends' collective groans only fueled his schadenfreude. "Besides, you don't know it's a beholder. Could be an illithid. Or a lich."
Gareth shoved Eddie backwards. "You throw a lich at us and I quit."
"Rocks fall, Gareth the Gaudy dies," Eddie sings.
"Gareth the Great."
"Oh, what an ignoble end to such a brave yet irritating adventurer!" This gets Jeff and Grant snickering and they pack up their things. Meanwhile, Eddie swears he can see steam coming from Gareth's ears. If he wasn't so easy to rile up Eddie would bother him less, but he just made it so fun he couldn’t resist.
Jeff, ever the mediator, clapped a hand on Gareth's shoulder. "He's just teasing and you know it. Besides, when you take over for that one-shot next you can get your revenge then."
"True…" Gareth fixed Eddie with a stare that was meant to be intimidating, chin held high and eyes narrowed, but Eddie gave as good as he got with a wicked smirk. It helped that he was a few inches taller.
"Stop measuring your DM dick sizes, guys, I have bass practice to get to," Grant said. He purposefully smacked Eddie with his backpack as he swung it on and broke the nerdy stare-down. Eddie and Gareth both gave each other a final dramatic glare before laughing and leading the way towards the door and sweet, sweet freedom.
Gareth gave a thoughtful hum. "I think I know what I'd use as revenge."
"What's that?" Eddie asked as he trotted ahead to avoid the crowd. Since it was Friday, everyone was rushing to leave, the late spring sun shining through the doors like a beacon. There was a small group ahead clogging traffic and Eddie braced himself for shoving his way through.
"A false hydra," Gareth said with an evil lilt.
Eddie whipped around and began walking backwards, eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't. That's cruel and unusual." Jeff sighed and Gareth's smug expression grew.
Grant pointed behind Eddie. "Uh, dude, watch out–"
"Oh, whoops." Eddie spun again, only to catch his foot on something, hearing someone say whoa! before he stumbled, hands bracing on their shoulders but not soon enough to stabilise Eddie. His momentum had him knocking knees with his unfortunate victim, brought them chest to chest, and then–
Face to face. Lips against lips.
Eddie barely registered that these lips were still somehow soft against his own, if a little chapped, before his brain caught up with everything and he realised he was staring into a pair of pretty, down turned brown eyes, wide with shock. He wasn’t sure if the hallway went silent or if all his senses narrowed down to the pressure against him, the sound of a hitched inhalation, the texture of the shirt beneath Eddie’s hands, and the faint, lingering scent of aftershave. Much, much too late, Eddie recognised with dread exactly who he’d just kissed.
Rearing back, Eddie brought the back of his hand to his mouth, his breath stuck in his chest as Steve Harrington stood rigidly in the middle of the hallway. Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers looked on – what a wild combination that was, these days, with the shadow of Jonathan’s fists still bruising Harrington’s face – with varying expressions of surprise and, interestingly, concern. Jonathan shuffled, as if to get between Steve and Eddie, but Eddie didn’t have the wherewithal to notice.
Because he was surely about to get the living daylights punched out of him. Eddie the Freak, Eddie the Queer as Harrington’s former friends would spit at him, just kissed King fucking Steve in the middle of Hawkins High’s illustrious hallways. Accident or not, he knew this was going to end painfully. He’d surprised himself so badly he didn’t even think to raise his arms, to shield himself, as he kept staring, panicked and frozen, at Harrington’s startled face.
But the punch never came. Harrington blinked, slowly raised a hand as if to touch his lips but let it fall, his eyes locked on Eddie. “Uh,” he said, but didn’t continue.
“Go, man, go go go!” Gareth hissed, and started pushing Eddie away. He let them. As soon as Harrington slipped from his sight, Eddie took in a shaky breath, his feet carrying him away automatically as his mind raced in circles while his friends whispered in anxious tones behind him.
What the hell just happened? How the fuck did he survive that?
…Did he imagine it, or had he felt Harrington kiss him back?
—
Despite his anxious brooding over the weekend, Eddie showed up at school on Monday without incident. He hadn’t been pounced, cornered, chased down or any other verb his mind conjured when he stepped out of his van. He’d even shown up late intentionally, trying to miss whatever plan Harrington might’ve cooked up to get back at Eddie. But nothing happened. He caught a few looks from other students in the halls, but when didn’t he? Classes were uneventful and he thanked fate for the fact that, being a senior, he didn’t have any with Harrington. During lunch he remained unharassed, though the whole table was primed for an attack. Not a single spitball was hocked, nor a single piece of food sent sailing their way.
It was fucking with Eddie more than being jumped would. He hadn’t pegged Harrington as one for mind games, but maybe he was wrong. So when he opened his locker at the end of the day and saw a hastily folded note, the world felt right again, even if it meant he was about to face his bruise-laden destiny. While his friends chatted nearby, he unfolded the note.
picnic table, after school? –S.H.
Sighing with a nod, Eddie shoved the note into his pocket and scrambled to get his shit together. After the briefest internal debate, he turned to the rest of Hellfire. “Gentlemen, I have been summoned for a clandestine meeting.” When he pulled his lunchbox halfway out of his backpack and gave it a brief wiggle, they nodded.
“Need backup?” Jeff asked, but Eddie shook his head.
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he lied, impressed that he could keep his cool, “I’ll give you a call when I get home though.”
Jeff knocked shoulders with him and smiled. “You better. Be safe, make good choices.” Gareth and Grant snorted, but Eddie bowed.
“As you command!”
They waved goodbye as they went their separate ways, Jeff, Grant, and Gareth safely to the front of the school, and Eddie to certain doom in the forest behind the track field. He instantly regretted splitting the party like this, but if Harrington brought friends he’d rather not let the others get caught up in the fight.
Past the treeline, Eddie fished out his lunchbox again, hoping to either bribe Harrington into forgetting what had happened or to use it as an improvised weapon if worse came to worst. He rapidly tapped his fingers against it, the metal of his rings clacking on the tin, and resisted the urge to turn back. He wanted this dealt with, though. Eddie fucking hated this sword of Damocles hanging over his head, so he figured that, for once, he’d nut up and face down the danger. Besides, if the rumours were true, Harrington was kind of useless in a fight anyway. Recalling the bruises on his face on Friday, where Jonathan didn’t seem to have any, made Eddie feel like he could have a little bit of a chance. He was scrappy. If Jonathan could take Harrington, so could Eddie. Assuming he was alone.
Reaching the clearing, it turned out, surprisingly, that Eddie’s assumption was right. Harrington sat by himself on top of the picnic table, slightly slouched, sunlight catching his coiffed hair and making it shine golden. His hands hung loosely in his lap, but when Eddie stepped on a twig, the snap loud in the silence of the clearing, they balled up as Harrington’s head whipped up to look at Eddie.
Eddie swallowed, froze, watched as a sigh left Harrington looking less tense than a moment ago. “Uh, hey Munson,” he said, smiling hesitantly.
“What.” That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. That definitely wasn’t part of the script.
“Wh–? I said ‘hey.’”
“Oh.”
They stared at each other, awkwardness descending like a heavy net, keeping Eddie trapped where he stood. Harrington opened his mouth once, twice, but said nothing, wincing at himself and scrubbing a hand down his face. A minute ticked by that felt like an agonising hour, and finally Eddie, valiantly containing the anxious bouncing threatening to escape his body, broke the silence.
“Listen, Harrington, it was a mistake. I tripped over my goddamn feet, y’know, didn’t even mean to. Wouldn’t mean to, like, ever, so y’know, no worries on your part,” Eddie rambled, seeing the way Harrington’s face fell then screwed up in confusion and dismissed it entirely as a trick of the light. “I have no ill intentions towards your virtue or whatever.” Harrington slid off the table in one smooth motion and began to walk towards Eddie with a determined gaze. Eddie backed up, still talking, heart in his throat beating rapidly. “Nope, none at all, so I’m cool if you’re cool with just sweeping this whole accident under the rug, whaddaya say?”
His back hit a tree, and Harrington came to a stop in front of him. He was close, shit, so close he could smell the aftershave that had haunted him all weekend. This was an extremely inappropriate moment for Eddie to remember the stupid little crush he’d had on Harrington when he first graced Hawkins High with his presence, until his rapid ascent into douche-dom, but it was hard to ignore when he was once again face to face with the guy. He was unfairly pretty, with that strong nose and ridiculously square jaw.
And, fuck him, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at Harrington’s lips to admire the wide cupid’s bow set in a serious line. When his tongue darted out to wet his lips, Eddie flushed and noticed the slight amused upturn to them before he looked back up. Harrington’s eyes crinkled at the edges, something decidedly not violent sparkling in his brown eyes, and Eddie felt very caught out.
“I don’t want to sweep it under the rug. If that’s cool with you.” It may have been phrased as a question, but Eddie didn’t hear a bit of uncertainty.
“What,” Eddie said again, oh so eloquently.
Harrington laughed with a huff and stepped, impossibly, closer. “Just don’t punch me if I’m wrong, man, alright? I’m still kinda healing from the last beating.”
Eddie almost repeated himself a third time, but Harrington’s fingers curled around Eddie’s neck and jaw, sliding into his curls, and Eddie thought he’d died and gone to heaven when Harrington’s lips once again met his with a sure but gentle press. He kept himself still, waiting for the other shoe to drop – which just ended up being Harrington pulling away slightly after a moment.
“I thought, uh.” Harrington finally started looking insecure, his eyes darting between Eddie’s. A slight flush had bloomed across his cheeks, highlighting the moles that Eddie begrudgingly thought were adorable for years. Clearing his throat, Steve swayed back, his hand starting to fall from Eddie’s face. “Fuck, shit, never mind–”
Eddie’s hand caught Steve’s. Held it in place. Ducking forwards and feeling like the bravest man alive, Eddie kissed him again. Intentionally. He heard the small pleased noise Steve made as he kissed back and felt his stomach swoop with a rush.
Holy shit. He was kissing Steve Harrington, again, on purpose, and Steve Harrington was kissing him back. How the fuck had this happened?
Steve pushed Eddie back into the tree, bringing their bodies close, and Eddie gasped, his free hand clutching Steve’s hip to keep him there. They kept kissing, Eddie fighting off baffled, slightly manic laughter by putting the energy into his kisses as he eagerly sought Steve’s lips again and again, feeling a slight smile at his enthusiasm that made their teeth clack. Eddie’s chest buzzed with it, tingled, and by god if this was the only chance he’d get to kiss the prettiest guy in school he’d fucking take it, make the best of it, especially as he felt Steve’s tongue brush deliciously gently over Eddie’s lower lip. He let him in with a sighed half-moan, which Steve echoed in a way that had those tingles light up like fireworks all the way down Eddie’s spine. He tasted like mint. Had he prepared for this?
The thought was enough to force Eddie to break apart from Harrington with a delirious, breathless giggle. “What the fuck,” he whispered, awe-struck, as his head thumped against the trunk of the tree.
“Was that okay?” Harrington asked, sounding concerned, which earned him another bout of giggles.
“‘Was that okay,’ asks the most desirable guy in the school. Jesus christ, okay doesn’t even cover it Harrington.” Eddie was still catching his breath, trying to find his footing again after having his world rocked in the complete opposite way he’d expected.
“Call me Steve, man. We just, y’know, made out. I think you can call me by my first name.”
“Okay, man,” Eddie teased, incredulous, “just bust through every wall I’ve got here in one fell swoop while I’m still processing the fact that you fucking kissed me. By the way: why?”
Steve floundered and looked away. Amazingly, Eddie realised he was shy. He’d made Steve shy, and the world shifted once again. Eddie also realised that he wanted to keep doing anything that’d make Steve blush and smile like that. And he desperately wanted to bite him, just to see what that would lead to.
“After Friday I couldn’t stop thinking about it, the kiss. About you. I knew it was an accident, there’s no way you’d just do that, but the look on your face just after you backed off…” Steve met his gaze again and the heat in his dark, blown pupils sent Eddie’s blood rushing swiftly southward. His thumb caressed Eddie’s pulse point at the soft underside of his jaw and Eddie shivered. “I know how people look when they want me. I wanted to see you look like that again.”
“You sure got it, Steve.”
The admission brought a self-satisfied smirk to Steve’s face. “Sure did.”
After a pause, Steve brought his hands to Eddie’s hips where they sat as a comforting weight. “Can I see it again? Or, more? I mean, I’d like to take you out, on a date, if you’re free.”
His unsure fumbling made something warm glow in Eddie’s chest even as he struggled with the improbable, but somehow still irrefutable fact that Steve wanted to see him again. Uh oh. Oh no. Despite the warnings his logical brain started spewing, Eddie said, “Yeah, Stevie. I’m free.”
The warmth swelled through him like a tsunami when Steve smiled brilliantly, and Eddie knew right then he was well and truly fucked.
If you had to make every single Stranger Things character a Muppet but leave one character human, who would you choose? And inversely, all human, one muppet?
Eddie looked around the school cafeteria, wondering how the hell he was supposed to believe his soulmate was here.
Hawkins didn’t exactly have a surplus of queer men, at least not any who would be willing to actually kiss Eddie on the mouth.
When he turned 18, two freckles appeared on his neck. Everyone he’d known that got their soul mark already had gotten much more obvious marks in places they could hide. But of course Eddie got something that didn’t make any fucking sense.
He’d known he was gay for years, and he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate because of that.
Fate must not be as homophobic as he thought.
He’d been so focused on scanning the cafeteria that he didn’t notice when someone sat down next to him. Someone different.
When he looked down to take a bite of his sandwich, he was shocked to find Steve Harrington sitting to his left.
“Uh.”
Smooth, Eddie.
“I need to talk to you.”
Eddie just stared at him, then gestured for him to continue.
“In private.”
Eddie gulped.
Steve seemed stressed. Maybe he just wanted to buy drugs.
Eddie didn’t usually deal during school hours, but for The King, he could probably make an exception.
“Listen, uh. I can’t sell during lunch, too many eyes. But meet up with me during the next class…”
“No! No. Not. It’s not that.”
Eddie was beyond confused.
Not only was Steve talking to him in front of other people, it wasn’t about buying drugs?
Maybe he was high. That had to be it.
“So…can we…”
Eddie shook himself out of the weird comatose situation he was mentally in and nodded.
Steve stood and nodded his head outside. Eddie immediately knew where he was going to want to talk.
There was a spot under the bleachers that had become known as the soulmate spot. Ironically, only two pairs of soulmates had ever managed to make it there. It was a make out spot, and occasionally, Eddie’s place of business. How it came to be known as the soulmate spot was beyond him.
Even knowing that’s where they were going didn’t deter Eddie from following Steve wordlessly out of the cafeteria. It’s not like Steve was going to murder him, and he had it on good authority he could probably take him in a fight if necessary.
They walked in silence to the bleachers, going behind them and finding the small cutout that allowed access to the soulmate spot. It was the worst kept secret at Hawkins High, but Eddie had never actually seen anyone else there when he needed it.
As they settled into the small area, Eddie couldn’t help noticing that Steve was wearing a jacket. It was an unusually warm February day, so warm in fact, Eddie had gone without his usual winter leather jacket.
“I have a question.”
Eddie had never heard Steve speak so softly, and it was more than concerning.
“Okay?”
Steve was playing with his hands in his lap when Eddie glanced down and noticed it. The start of a scar on the back of his right hand. The same as Eddie’s.
Eddie had broken his arm in seven places when he was seven years old. Suffice to say seven was not his lucky number. He’d needed surgery to repair a part of his wrist and the scar ended up being nearly four inches long for reasons his parents hadn’t bothered to clarify with the surgeon.
Eddie looked at Steve’s neck.
Two freckles.
What the fuck.
“So. Don’t panic, okay? But I noticed that you have a scar on your right hand and my birthday was last week. So. I got a new scar in the same place.”
Eddie gawked. There was no other word for the way he was staring at Steve.
“I just wanted to compare them and see.”
“See what?”
“If we’re soulmates.”
Eddie laughed in disbelief. Steve flinched at how loud he was, but he couldn’t hold back if he tried.
“There is no possible fucking way I’m your soulmate.”
Eddie could see the two freckles on Steve’s neck that matched his own, but he was still in denial that Steve was anything other than straight and would possibly feel anything for Eddie beyond general tolerance.
Steve’s brows furrowed.
“Maybe someone else has a scar there. Did you check all the cheerleaders?”
Maybe that was harsh. Steve flinched like he’d thrown a physical punch, leaving Eddie feeling a bit guilty.
“Just. For my sake, could I check your arm? Please? If it doesn’t match, I’ll leave you alone.”
“And if it does?”
“Then I’ll ask you what mark has been hiding on you for a year.”
Eddie slowly started rolling the sleeve of his plaid button down, ignoring the way Steve was staring between his face and hands intently.
When he shoved his arm toward Steve for him to inspect, he closed his eyes.
Steve would be disgusted that he’s his soulmate. Steve wasn’t gay, probably hadn’t even thought that it was a possibility. Even if he were, there’s no way he’d be interested in Eddie.
He felt fingers tracing up the scar line, just ghosting over his skin. He shivered and looked up to see Steve staring in awe.
“Where’s yours?”
“Um. My neck. Freckles.”
“Wow. You get freckles and I get a whole scar. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Of all the things going on here, that’s what doesn’t seem fair?”
Eddie finally made eye contact with him, biting his lip when he realized Steve was already staring at him.
“I guess it’s also not fair that we’re stuck in Hawkins instead of, like, San Francisco or New York.”
“What.”
Eddie wasn’t sure what was happening anymore. He was more lost than he’d ever been, and he had little to no hope of catching up.
“Those are the places where it’s a bit safer right?”
“Safer for what?”
“For us to be together.”
That’s it, Eddie was done. He was throwing in the towel.
“Together?”
Steve rolled his eyes, but squeezed Eddie’s hand where he was still holding it.
“If we’re soulmates, I’d assume that’s the next step?”
“Harrington, I hate to break this to you, but you’re not gay.”
“No I’m not.”
“Exactly! So, this whole conversation is…”
“I like both.”
“Both?”
“Yeah. Guys and girls. Both.”
“Huh.”
And then Eddie did the riskiest thing he’d ever done in his life.
He kissed Steve Harrington. Tongue and all.
And they sometimes say that soulmates have an instant connection, one so powerful you can’t question fate anymore. But Eddie had never really believed it; he’d had no reason to or any examples of it.
But now, with the way Steve was climbing into his lap, metaphorical sparks flying around them, he knew they had it.
And when Steve kissed his freckles before leaving, and when Eddie traced along the fake scar of his hand, they both knew this was the best thing they never could have expected.
Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.
They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.
“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.
“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”
“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”
“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”
“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.
“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”
“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”
“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”
Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.
“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”
“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.
“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”
“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.
“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”
“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”
“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.
“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”
“And that’s when you became best friends?”
“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”
“Platonic with a capital P?”
Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.
“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.
When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.
“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.
Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.
It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.
He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.
---
this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!
Museum worker Eddie who is completely enamoured by the large marble statue in the middle of the art section of the museum. The information panel says that it's simply called 'Steve'. Eddie thinks it's a rather plain name for something so exceptionally beautiful.
"Morning, Stevie." He tips his hat in greeting to the statue every morning and sometimes winks at him when he's in a good mood. He swears he sees a ghost of a smile on the statues marbled face.
Some days, he lingers around Steve and takes his time admiring the details in the marble. The statues back is marred with aggressive scars that look as if he was dragged through hell in another life. Eddie knows that if he were to touch him, it'd merely feel like touching stone, but Steve looks so soft, so real, he can't help but imagine how lovely it would be to run his fingers through the thick locks of the statues hair, or to caress the side of his soft, smiling face.
Eddie gets scheduled to do the night watch for the first time and he's weirdly scared to wander the museum alone. The museum has a completely different vibe at night. It's eerily quiet, and his flashlight hardly provides enough light as he patrols the dark museum. He swears on his life that he can hear voices coming from all around but brushes it off as his mind playing tricks on him.
When he gets to the art section, he waves to Steve like usual and nearly passes out when the beautiful statue shyly waves back at him. "Hi, Eddie."
