#and dustin is just like. crying or whatever.
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peachpitmp3 · 2 years ago
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as a society i think we need to talk less about eddie munson
#listen. LISTEN. i get it he’s cool and nonconformist and edgy and. dead and queercoded i GET IT#but like jesus christ yall the amounts of character butchery that the entire fandom has been subjected to#also hi sorry can we maybe possibly also address how the entire fandom insists on queerifying all the male characters. when we have.#a canonical wlw character. like ?? i just. im used to it from every other fandom but like#i simply do not have the patience for it in this one. can we please not ignore robin#also why does the obsession with eddie always come at the expense of the other more fleshed out characters.#like just say you want a self insert and go but don’t pretend that all of your headcanons or whatever actually happened#ESPECIALLY when it comes to ships. ahem steddie shippers. completely changing both of their characters and dynamics w other characters#i get wanting to change aspects of canon. trust me. i have a five page google doc of complaints. but like can we not act like he’s#canonically anything other than another minor character that the duffer bros sacrificed bc they didn’t wanna kill a main#and like. i don’t know. something about how the relationship everyone wants to focus on. is between steve and eddie ??#who barely interact and tbh don’t have much stake in each others lives.#as opposed to like. dustin and eddie ??? like im sorry but. why is steve always so destroyed in fics where eddie dies#and dustin is just like. crying or whatever.#steve barely fucking knew the guy let’s be real.#i dont know. im angry and tired of shitty characterization and wlw being ignored for less relevant white men#roxisms#st#stranger things
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lexirosewrites · 4 months ago
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I just had a sudden need to combine a classic overheard misunderstanding trope, and smash it into omegaverse.
So Steve hid the fact he was an omega after he presented, was just a normal beta man, exactly what society liked best. His parents didn’t force him, but they immediately dropped the cash to get the meds/whatever so no one would know. Eddie is an alpha, and has always been loud af about it.
Beta is the ideal, calm, reliable. Alphas are seen as sorta feral and dangerous. Omegas are just thought of as animalistic sluts, and heats are sorta disgusting. Alphas are split on the topic, it’s hot af or vile.
Steve keeps his secret (except from Robin) until after the UD is defeated in s4, but with the earthquake, he doesn’t have a refill of his suppressants. People find out. Gossip goes crazy. A lot of awful things get said to him, but pretends he’s not about to cry. The meds caused health problems, so now that the cats out of the bag, he doesn’t restart.
A few weeks later, Steve gets a call from Dustin that Eddie woke up and he needs a ride immediately to see him. Dustin forgets the flowers he was bringing, has to run back to the car. Steve decides not to wait, heads down the hall, and overhears Eddie and his band guys when he gets close.
“— god, that’s disgusting.”
“Right? All those years and nobody knew.”
“An omega though? Harrington?”
“It’s so messed up.”
“Shit. Fuck, what a nightmare.”
“It’s just gross. I mean can you imagine —“
Steve keeps walking, a little bit devastated that even Eddie Munson who always shouted about gender equality and stereotypes, thinks he’s disgusting. A couple days later, Steve has pummeled his nascent crush on Eddie into submission, and decided the best course is to not be around him alone. Ever. Because his stupid hormones would run into his stupid memory of those words and he’d start crying.
Meanwhile, back in a hospital room, Jeff and Eddie were putting together some long standing mysteries about Steve, bringing them to the only logical conclusion: that Steve’s parents forced him to live as a beta even though Steve was so obviously miserable. Eddie admits that this revelation is only going to make his crush worse, and they agree they need to help him. Obviously. Because they think his parents forced him to be more normal.
And obviously,
“Forcing your kid to do that? God, that’s disgusting.”
oh nooooooo😢😭😭😭 poor steve thinks eddie is disgusted by him when it’s the opposite!!! what a mess💔
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roosterbox · 1 year ago
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Had this random thinky thought the other day.
Pre-S4 Steddie are dating. Have been for a decent amount of time. They haven’t told everyone, but a few people know (Robin, Dustin). The thing, though, is that Wayne doesn’t know. Oh, he knows that Eddie has a boyfriend. He’s seen Eddie’s eyes light up like stars when he starts talking about this boy. About how beautiful he is. About how strong he is. And, most often, about how kind he is. After the buildup he’s been given, Wayne is pretty positive there’s no way for this mystery boy to live up to Eddie’s description. Especially with how loveblind his nephew is. But if the way Eddie lights up at the mere thought of him is any indication, he must be something special.
“Invite him over for dinner sometime, son. I’m dyin’ to meet this guy.”
Eddie agrees. And plans are made. But for whatever reason, said plans fall through. And keep falling through.
But then.
The events of S4 happen.
Steve manages to save Eddie, like he should have done in canon (but I digress). They end up in the hospital, and someone gets in touch with Wayne, who shows up almost immediately. And who does he see at his unconscious (severely injured) nephew’s bedside but Steve fucking Harrington.
Now I’m not saying that Wayne assumes the absolute worst upon seeing ‘King Steve’ Harrington in that room (the worst being that Steve has something to do with Eddie’s condition), but he does make his assumptions based on what he knows and remembers about Steve’s parents (especially his dad). Said assumptions are… not great.
He basically kicks Steve out. And Steve just… goes. Robin tries to protest on his behalf, but Steve tells her it’s okay. “Eddie needs him now,” he says.
Eddie doesn’t wake up for several days. Any time Wayne isn’t with him, Steve sneaks in. And gets kicked out again when Wayne comes back. Wayne, for his part, is getting more and more exasperated with his dedication.
But then Eddie wakes up, finally. Wayne and Dustin are there when he does. The latter leaves to give Eddie and Wayne their privacy for a tearful reunion, but he also calls Steve. A little while later, Steve shows up. He and Wayne lock eyes, and Wayne bristles a bit. He’s straightening up, preparing to kick him out yet again, before Eddie turns. And his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile. His eyes sparkle like twin stars.
“Stevie!” He says, imbuing the name with more emotion than Wayne ever expected.
Steve almost trips over his own feet to get to Eddie’s bedside, where he takes Eddie’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. He looks like he might cry.
And Wayne suddenly understands everything.
He lets them talk for a moment. They’ve seemingly forgotten he’s even there. There are soft loving affirmations, sweet names, and maybe even a kiss or two, before he clears his throat. The boys spring apart (Steve springs, at least), but don’t let go of each other’s hands.
“I really wish we could have gotten to meet each other over dinner instead, boys,” he says, gruff as always.
Steve looks nervous, but Eddie’s just embarrassed.
“Uhm,” Steve starts.
Wayne gently cuts him off. “I think you and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot.” And that wrong foot is entirely on me, he thinks.
Eddie looks between the two of them, confused.
“That’s okay,” Steve is quick to say. “You were just-“
Wayne cuts him off again, moving to the other side of the bed, hand outstretched.
“Wayne Munson.”
Steve hesitates, exchanging a glance with Eddie (who’s still terribly confused), before taking Wayne’s hand with his free one, shaking it.
“Steve Harrington,” he says as if Wayne didn’t recognize him on sight a few days prior.
“It’s nice to meet you Steve.” Wayne smiles. “Nice to finally see for myself the kid who makes Eddie smile like that.”
There are further discussions to be had. Eddie is angry (and a little heartbroken) to discover what’s been going on while he slept (“YOU KICKED HIM OUT HOW MANY TIMES???”), but in the end, it all works out. Eddie’s name is cleared. He (and everyone else!) makes a full and complete recovery (plus a few gnarly scars). And Wayne finally, finally, gets to sit down to dinner with his nephew, and his nephew’s boyfriend.
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a-little-unsteddie · 11 months ago
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cw: child abuse mentioned, child neglect
Steve, who was never allowed to play in the snow as a child because it was ‘too messy’. Steve, who stared longingly outside as he watched other kids play in the snow. Steve, wanting to build a snowman, or an igloo, or have a snowball fight, but was denied each and every time by his parents. “It’s uncouth, Steven.” “It’s dirty, Steven.” “You’ll just whine that you’re cold, Steven.” “No.” “No.” “No.” Until he stopped asking altogether, even as he stared out his bedroom window at the other kids playing. Steve who loves the snow but was never allowed to play. The one time he snuck out, he was brought inside being dragged by his ear and spanked until he cried.
And then some for crying at all.
Steve goes shopping with his mom and sees a snow globe and all but cries for her to get it for him. If he can’t have the snow outside, he wants to have a snow globe to have it inside. She lets him get it, but not without commenting ‘at least it’s not going outside’.
Thus starts a collection, of sorts. Whenever he sees a new snow globe, he makes his mom buy him it and because he never asks to go outside to play in the snow if she buys one, she keeps buying them for him.
He has around 10 or 15 snow globes by the time he’s a teenager and left alone more than he isn’t. He still doesn’t go out to play in the snow, even if he silently yearns to, because now he’s ‘too old’ to play out in the snow. Tommy doesn’t like being cold, so he never goes out, and Carol won’t do something if Tommy’s not there, so Steve doesn’t bother asking her to go outside.
Steve becomes friends with Dustin and the rest of the party, and he still doesn’t let himself play with them, even when Dustin begs him to. He passes on the same excuses to him as his mom told him, and the words feel like ash in his mouth, but he doesn’t just play in the snow like he’s aching to. It’s too cold, he’ll be wet and miserable later, he doesn’t want to get water all over the house.
Mostly, they’re excuses because he’s kind of worried he doesn’t know how to play in the snow. That somehow he’ll be bad at it.
Eventually, when he and Robin become friends and their first winter together happens, he tells her this secret fear. It’s right after the kids go out to play, and it’s just them, and he whispers to her.
“I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.”
Robin is confused, of course, because how can you be ‘bad’ at playing in the snow? He elaborates to her that he’s never played and she’s less confused but more angry at his parents, which he thinks is an over reaction and she insists he’s having an under reaction, whatever that means, and the moment passes. Steve is relieved to have revealed that much to her. He still doesn’t go outside, and Robin gets cold easily, so she doesn’t want to go outside, so they stay inside together.
He still collects snow globes, when he sees them. He buys one in front of the kids and brushes it off as a white elephant gift for a family thing, but displays it in the unused guest bedroom with the rest of the snow globes. It’s on the other side of the house from where every other guest bed is, so usually no one takes it, and so he knows his collection is safe.
Even if he keeps it secret, and plans to keep it secret forever, until the following winter, after the spring break from hell and after the grueling summer and cool fall brings the snow again and Eddie Munson is a menace in his life. He’s by far the most energetic person that he’s ever been friends with, all touches and open affection, it’s almost too easy to fall for him.
Eddie is nosy as hell and of course it’s him that finds the collection of snow globes.
“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice echoes from down the hall and it takes Steve a few seconds to process where his voice is coming from before he’s rushing down the hall and into the unused guest room.
Along the left wall, there’s a shelf that stretches from wall-to-wall filled with snow globes.
Embarrassment shoots through him, and he shrugs. “…snow globes.” he explains badly, wincing when Eddie turns towards him with an unimpressed look. It quickly morphs into concern because for some reason, Steve’s started tearing up and once the tears start they don’t stop.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie soothes, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, sweet thing.”
And the thing is, Steve does want to explain. Suddenly overcome with the urge to spill everything, in fact. So he does. He tells Eddie about his mom and dad refusing to let him play in the snow, the one time he got caught and got spanked for it, the snow globes, the fear of being bad at playing in the snow, still desperately wanting to despite it.
Through it all, Eddie holds him and listens. He hums occasionally to acknowledge what Steve is saying, but never interrupts him, for which Steve is glad because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to continue if he was stopped for any reason.
At the end of it, when Steve’s tears have dried, and they’re curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch, Eddie vows to teach him out to play in the snow. How to make a snow angel, a snowman, an igloo, a snowball — everything. He whispers these promises and plans into his ear, their hands intertwined where they lay on Steve’s lap.
And he follows through. With everything.
And the next time the kids beg him to play, he plays his part and says no, because he’s still anxious he’s going to do it wrong, Eddie throws a snowball at his back while he’s busy arguing with Dustin. And silence falls over everyone, waiting for Steve’s next move. Because he’s never given in, and no one’s ever pushed their luck like that.
Steve turns towards Eddie, narrowing his eyes at him.
“Oh, it’s on, Munson.”
The kids cheer and then it’s chaos of snowballs being lobbed at one another.
Later, when everyone is warming up with hot cocoa, and Steve is curled into Eddie’s side with a blanket tossed over their laps, Steve knows he’s never been happier to have met Eddie, who taught him how to play in the snow.
“Thank you,” Steve whispers to Eddie, who hums curiously, lazily looking at him from the corner of his eye. “For teaching me how to play in the snow.”
“Always, Stevie. I’ll always help you.”
And it sounds like a promise.
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ashwhowrites · 4 months ago
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Hiiii!!!!
Okay I’ve kinda had this story playing in my mind for a while but we’ve got older sister Henderson who comes back to Hawkins high school for her final year (she was at another school for whatever reason) and she has to pick up Dustin from hellfire. She’s got a stutter and maybe tries to talk to Eddie about dnd because she’s got a crush on him but he thinks she’s pretending or mocking him in some way cause of the stutter (maybe he thinks she’s trying to sound geeky). She gets really upset and goes mute for a while at home and at school and Dustin knows she’s sad but doesn’t know it’s Eddie that made her feel that way. Maybe Dustin invites Eddie over and Eddie is prepared to be mean but Dustin says like “oh she hasn’t talked since someone made fun of her stutter” and Eddie realizes he messed up and she wasn’t lying…. It’s a lot 😅
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. First fic back after like 2 weeks! Hopefully I'm not rusty. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Stutter
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It had been a few years since Y/N Henderson was in Hawkins, but now she had to head back for senior year. Even though she was away, Dustin kept her caught up with everything, including his cute new best friend Eddie Munson.
Y/N grew a slight crush on the stranger through photos and stories that Dustin shared. She felt nervous to see him in person because of her stutter. She didn't have the best control over it when she was nervous, it got the best of her and caused insecurity.
She took a deep breath as she got out of her car. She gave herself a small pep talk as she entered the school. She hadn't been in it for years but barely anything changed. She smoothed down her jeans, giving her outfit one last look in her reflection in the windows. She had no shame in trying to look her best because she knew there was a big chance she would see Eddie.
She made it to the door Dustin directed her to. She knocked on it softly and heard the voices on the inside go silent.
She backed up when the door swung open, and there he was.
Eddie had his hair down, the only way she ever saw it. His eyes were gorgeous in person, so much brighter than the pictures.
"Hi" she breathed, a smile on her face
Eddie shut the door behind him. A suspicious look on his face. He crossed his arms, trying to threaten her but she found it attractive.
"Can I help you?" he asked
"Dustin's sister, Y/N," she said, smiling as she felt proud of herself for not stuttering once. She tried to stay in control of her tongue.
"You are a Henderson?" He asked, she felt her skin burn when he stepped back and looked at her up and down. "Seem too cute to be related to him"
And just like that, it switched
She got so nervous her mind went blank. She couldn't practice the sentence beforehand as he waited for her to speak.
"Dung..eo..eons...and ddddr...ag...on...ons, do yyyou en...jjjjoy plaaa....y..ing...th..a...a..t?"
She wanted to smack herself for how stuttered her sentence was. She felt her body shut down when his eyes snapped into slits like he was glaring at her. She fiddled with her fingers nervously.
"Wouldn't be the master if I didn't." He scoffed, his tone much ruder than before. "If you plan to just stutter and mock me, don't bother talking to me. I'll get Dustin." He snapped, then he opened the door and slammed it.
The wind from the hard slam smacked her in the face. She quickly bit down on her lip to make sure she didn't cry. He sounded much nicer and sweet in Dustin's stories.
The door opened again and Dustin came out with a smile. Immediately talking he told her all about the campaign. She listened quietly as they made their way home. She was stuck in her head and pity. And it hurt to admit just how much Eddie's words hurt her.
~~~
She respected what Eddie said, making sure anytime she ran into him at school she didn't say a word. She didn't say a word to really anyone. She knew her stutter could be annoying and she didn't want to give anyone else a reason to shut her out.
Dustin didn't question her about her silence. She just got back and probably needed time to adjust to everything again. He figured maybe she was overwhelmed. Until he overheard her talking with their mom about someone saying something about her stutter and now she didn't feel comfortable speaking. Dustin's heart hurt for her but he didn't want to invade her privacy.
Y/N never said who so Dustin had no idea the person in the story was Eddie. As a result, Dustin didn't think twice about inviting Eddie to dinner after a long campaign.
"Your sister here?" Eddie asked as Dustin unlocked the door.
"Yeah," Dustin said, taking off his shoes. Eddie followed his movements, slipping out of his dirty sneakers. Eddie cracked his neck, already planning comebacks in his head if she tried something again.
He looked up as Y/N came into view, she offered a small smile and passed her way into the kitchen.
"Don't mind her quietness. She's got this stutter and some asshole made a comment about it so now she's silent. Don't take it personally, once she's warmed up to you she will talk." Dustin said with a smile
Eddie felt his stomach drop as the kid walked into the kitchen. She had a stutter? She didn't purposely stutter in front of Eddie to make him feel like he was being made fun of? Instead, he made fun of her for something she couldn't control. He hung his head in shame as he felt like a true asshole.
He walked into the kitchen, and sat in the familiar seat he sat in every time he was over. He felt uncomfortable when he realized his seat was directly across from hers.
She smiled again, then looked down at her plate.
Eddie coughed and dug into his plate. Dustin and his mom got into a conversation as he kept looking up at Y/N. He hated that he made her silent in her own home.
"So dear, how has the first week back been? Feeling better after that situation?" Mrs. Henderson asked, her attention on Y/N.
Y/N shrunk down in her chair, her eyes avoiding Eddie's at all costs.
"I..I...I'm tttt...trying to practice with my ttt....tapes again." Y/N stuttered out, giving her mom a soft smile before she went back to her plate.
"Good girl," Mrs. Henderson said as she softly touched her hand
Eddie lost his appetite as his stomach twisted with guilt.
The rest of dinner was mostly Dustin talking but that was a relief to everyone at the table.
Everyone was excused and Dustin prepared for bed. Eddie prepared to leave but he knew he needed to apologize. He nervously walked to her bedroom, her name written on the outside in glitter.
He knocked and waited for it to open
She opened the door and was surprised to see Eddie. She stayed silent as she waited for him to speak.
"About last week, you deserve an apology. I'm sorry for being a total dick and treating you like that. I made a horrible first impression, but I'm used to people making fun of me and I thought you were too." Eddie explained
He watched as she took a big breath and opened her mouth
"Ittttt's okkkkay" she stuttered, Eddie smiled as he tried to make her feel comfortable
"Thank you for saying that. Maybe we can start over? Over dinner sometime?" He asked, that flirty tone was back and it made her heart race.
"Yes," she said with a smile, "one thing"
Eddie watched as she walked to her desk and grabbed a pen. She softly grabbed his hand, his heart racing as she wrote on his palm
She clicked the pen, smiled, and softly shut her door.
Eddie smiled to himself as he looked down at his palm, her name and number in black ink.
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belokhvostikova · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.
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“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge. 
Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust. 
It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.
“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone. 
“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man. 
“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard. 
Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”
That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.
“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.
“Nothing!”
“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”  
Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance. 
“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”
Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education. 
How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery. 
Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go. 
“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear. 
And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors. 
There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!
“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!
“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”
Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.
“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.
Oh, boy, was he wrong.
“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.
It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?
Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong. 
“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.  
His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”
“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”
Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses. 
“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”
“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him. 
“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.
“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair. 
They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him. 
So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped. 
“What?” You looked around confused. 
Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch. 
He was right. 
-
Robin Buckley confirmed it next. 
That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure. 
During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent. 
In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”
“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.
“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”
“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”
“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”
“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”
“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington. 
“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency. 
“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder. 
Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you. 
Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary. 
Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying. 
You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you. 
With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.” 
“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”
Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.
By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off. 
So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.
Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”
“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed. 
Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.
“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity. 
“What plan?” Robin interjected. 
“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed. 
“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face. 
“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty. 
“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”
“Ha!”
“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege. 
“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her. 
Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.
“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire. 
Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.” 
Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”
“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”
“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”
“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”
Steve groaned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”
Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”
“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”
Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”
“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized. 
“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.
Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”
“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”
Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.” 
“I have personality!”
“No, you have hair!” 
In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead. 
“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips. 
“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.
And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.  
“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited. 
“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”
“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.” 
Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment. 
“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further. 
So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!
“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over.  “You’ve been, uh, working out?” 
Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”
“Uh-”
“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.” 
Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”
Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye. 
Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”
His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”
“Five!” 
That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over. 
-
Steve Harrington confirmed it next. 
And maybe was a little asshole about it. 
Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager. 
And who would want that? 
“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you. 
Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take. 
Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough. 
“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using. 
Steve raised a brow. “Really?”
The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”
“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.” 
Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”
“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked. 
“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions. 
But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?” 
And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”
Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere. 
As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-
But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!
He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…
Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo. 
“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”
Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”
“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”
“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.
Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night. 
Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled. 
“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”
“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”
“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration. 
“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”
“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair. 
“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.” 
Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day. 
This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love. 
A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless. 
“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth. 
“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-
“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie. 
-
On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.
The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”
The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make. 
“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.
His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars. 
But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body. 
“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds. 
With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face. 
“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips. 
His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”
You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”
Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you. 
God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.
Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face. 
“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?” 
Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.” 
His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips. 
“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”
The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”
Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.
“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world. 
“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”
“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”
“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology. 
��I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”
Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”
A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.
Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.” 
The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter. 
“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself. 
“What?” Robin prodded. 
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes. 
Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”
“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued. 
“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it. 
Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”
Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.” 
“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined. 
Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events. 
“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?” 
Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes. 
“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face. 
“Okay, so?” 
“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.
Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense. 
“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink. 
She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.” 
Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.” 
“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out. 
“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.” 
Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out. 
“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.” 
Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”
“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer. 
As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.” 
Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips. 
“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.” 
“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.” 
There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington. 
“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment. 
Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.
Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”
Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!” 
You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!
“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted. 
You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter. 
Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?” 
“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”
Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!” 
Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…” 
“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!” 
-
“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to. 
Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle. 
Who the hell were you two fooling?
But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift. 
Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses. 
“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”
“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed. 
At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?” 
Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”
Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed. 
Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness. 
“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece. 
Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies. 
“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”
“Don’t say it!”
“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend. 
But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call. 
Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered. 
Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?” 
Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder. 
“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock. 
Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend. 
Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird. 
“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross. 
Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.
Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!” 
Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”
“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!” 
Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”
“What?!” 
“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!
She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned. 
“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.
“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!” 
Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need. 
Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand. 
It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird. 
“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work. 
“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!
“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”
Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended. 
Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!” 
The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work. 
In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!” 
Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”
“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call. 
“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”
A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”
Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?! 
But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested. 
Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth. 
Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell. 
Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man. 
-
“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around. 
“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers. 
Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”
“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed. 
Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night. 
“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date. 
“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).  
Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion. 
“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled. 
“Huh?” Dustin asked. 
Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!” 
“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.” 
On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”
Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern. 
You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place. 
Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”
“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!” 
His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”
Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel. 
You make him feel such incredible things. 
“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom. 
Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”
Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing. 
And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her. 
“Robin.”
“Eddie.”
“Come on in.”
“I was going to.” 
As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side. 
“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay. 
The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”
“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.  
But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.” 
“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”
Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back. 
Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face. 
But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin. 
“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones. 
“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared. 
Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in. 
“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged. 
“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!
Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.”  He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled. 
You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”
Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing. 
A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”
“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!” 
Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”
“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”
“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along. 
“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”
Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”
“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed. 
“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.
Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”
“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat. 
Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.
“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.
Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”
Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.” 
Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”
And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”
“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along. 
“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion. 
“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.
“Because I’m in love with Y/N!” 
“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him. 
“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.” 
His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.
That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed. 
Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused. 
“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!” 
Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.” 
“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos. 
“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was. 
“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room. 
“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.” 
Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.” 
“You do?”
“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked. 
But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”
You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.” 
You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!” 
Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.
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stevieschrodinger · 1 year ago
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So what if like the thing that makes Alpha and Omega pairs, true mates or whatever, is like a detectable thing that they can test for. And like, everyone has their little blood test at birth and then on say, their 18th birthday, the Alpha gets informed as to who their omega is.
Obviously it's a bit of a sexist deal and lots of Omega and their supporters are trying to get it changed so that both parties are informed, to make it fair, and that is getting some traction but right now, the Alpha gets told and the Omega has to wait for them to show up.
Except when Eddie, fucking excited as all hell to meet his Omega finally, opens his envelope to find Steve Harrington's name starring back at him and Eddie just. He just can't. Steve's one of the biggest bitches at Hawkins high. And even if Eddie can, sort of, get past that, Steve's a snob. He lives in a fucking mansion and has a nice car and preppy clothes and yeah...Eddie is going to get rejected stone cold and that would be fair because he doesn't have a single thing to offer and Omega like Harrington.
Eddie burns the envelope.
And yeah, he can't help but watch Steve a little more now that he like, Knows, but he does his best to put it behind him.
And Steve gets into a fight with Nancy wheelers new Omega, when Nancy gets her envelope, and it's not Steve's name inside and it looks like Jonathan came out on top and Steve...well, he looks beaten and sad and that nearly makes Eddie cave but...no. no.
Right up until he has Steve under his hands, pinned to a boathouse wall with a bottle to his throat and Eddie's been thinking of Steve has his Omega for so long it just kind of slips out. Eddie whispers it, 'Omega' and the bottle drops to the floor and shatters more.
And Eddie has to watch it play out from close range on Steve's face, dawning realisation. Deep hurt. And then anger. An angry shield that comes down as he pushes Eddie off.
"Dustin explain to Munson what's up, I'll be outside a minute.". And Steve just stomps out and there's fuck all Eddie can do about it.
And then he kinda gets distracted by hell dimension stuff. For a bit. And Steve's clearly fucking angry with him and Eddie, well, what the fuck is Steve expecting Eddie to do, right? Steve would never have wanted him in the first place. So Eddie is fucking angry. And it comes out spiteful, calling Steve 'big boy' like he knows it'll rile Steve up. Throwing his jacket at Steve so he will cover up, because he can't bare to look at all the skin Steve is showing, especially with fucking Wheeler hanging around. And if it got something of Eddie's on Steve, well then, it doesn't fucking matter does it? Doesn't mean anything.
And it's not until it's all done, and Eddie wakes up fucking high as a kite on pain meds, with non other than Harrington sitting by his bedside that it all slips out, "what are you doing here?"
Steve shrugs, won't look at him, "waiting to see if my Alpha dies, I guess."
And he just sounds so...bereft. so broken.
"Steve, I just...look-"
"Doesn't matter. You've made it clear. It's fine. And you're going to live I guess so I'll just-" and he's standing, turning to leave.
And Eddie knows Steve now. Sees him with the sheep. Knows he isn't a bitch. Knows he's just...a good guy. Knows he isn't any of the things Eddie thought he was.
"You grew up in a fucking castle." Steve pauses, sitting back in the chair to frown at Eddie.
"What has that go to do with-"
Eddie clears his throat, it's dry and scratchy and hurts but he has to do this. "You grew up in a castle. Nice car. Both parents. Preppy clothes, fucking, shitty fucking jock friends. Steve, you would have rejected me in a heartbeat. I live in a fucking trailer and sling drugs on the side I'm not- I couldn't do that to you."
And Steve just, he just starts crying. He nods, wipes his eyes, "I might have," he admits finally, "I don't know what I would have said...but I needed you. Since then I needed you so much and," he sniffles, wipes his pink nose .
"And I didn't know. I couldn't have and I am so sorry but could we just, now, can we just-" and it hurts like fuck but Eddie bites it down because Steve is half clambered into the bed next to him and yeah. Yeah, that's perfect.
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solarmorrigan · 26 days ago
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Nothing Could Be More Important
For the @steddie-spooktober day 27 prompt: Scary Movies Rated: T | Words: 1812 | CW: some internalized ableism | Tags: established relationship, Steve Harrington has chronic pain, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, Eddie Munson takes care of Steve Harrington, hurt/comfort Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
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This is shit.
This is utter shit.
Yes, fine, Steve gets that you can’t put your body through as much shit as he’s done without some kind of consequences. You can’t rack up that many injuries without later having to deal with things like migraines or, apparently, chronic pain.
And he gets that the weather tends to negatively affect him. He gets that the temperature oscillating between warm and cold like it often does in the fall is probably going to trigger an episode (something about shifts in atmospheric pressure; Dustin had explained it once, but he’d used a lot of jargon and, to be honest, Steve hadn’t retained most of it).
He gets all of that.
But today? Today of all days, when Eddie has planned something for them, when he needs Steve to be up and about and able-bodied?
Fucking bullshit.
Turning a groan into his pillow, Steve tries to stretch out, tries to work some of the tension out of his aching body, but it’s no use; his muscles pull and his joints creak in protest, and Steve deflates against the mattress with a sigh. His head is swimming, and his limbs are heavy, and the thought of having to get up already makes him want to cry out of sheer exhaustion, and – today just really isn’t going to happen, is it?
It's about the time this realization hits that Eddie chooses appear in the bedroom doorway. He’s already dressed and looking far more awake than he usually does in the mornings, and Steve wonders how late he’s slept in.
“Hey, there you are.” Eddie grins, crossing the room towards the bed. “Thought I was going to have to wake you up so we didn’t get a late start.”
Steve’s stomach sinks even further in the face of Eddie’s excitement, and something of his own dismay must show in his expression, because now Eddie is frowning and settling himself on the edge of the mattress.
“Everything okay?” he asks, reaching out and running a hand down the length of Steve’s back.
And Steve can’t help it – everything hurts, his skin hurts, and he lets out a noise of pure discomfort, flinching under Eddie’s touch.
Eddie snatches his hand back as if he’s been burned. “Steve?”
Guilt creeps up Steve’s throat, doing as much to twist his nerves as the pain itself, and he reaches out to take Eddie’s hand, threading their fingers together. His wrists and knuckles twinge, but it’s manageable.
“I don’t… think I’m going to be able to do today,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Disappointment drops immediately onto Eddie, pulling his face into frown and stooping his shoulders, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt, too.
Eddie’s been planning today since the beginning of October. They’d meant to start out in the early afternoon and make a circuit, hitting all the haunted houses, corn mazes, hayrides, and whatever else they could find in the area, making a whole day of it. This would, unfortunately, involve a ton of driving and even more walking around, two things Steve really doesn’t think he’s up for today.
It’s taken him a long time to get to the point where he can admit that he might not be able to do things, that he just needs to rest, but he hasn’t quite been able to shake the feeling of frustration and guilt that often comes with it.
“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “Today is a really bad day, I just– I don’t think I can be up that much.”
Eddie bites his lip. “Maybe we could just, like, take a lot of breaks? Or– no,” he backpedals, shaking his head. “Sorry, no, that’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”
“Not stupid,” Steve sighs (though he genuinely doubts the accessibility of most of the haunted attractions they’d been planning to visit, now that he thinks on it). “I’m really sorry, Eddie.”
Eddie shakes his head again, visibly packing away his disappointment. “No apologies, it’s not your fault.” He squeezes Steve’s hand, so gentle that Steve feels like he might crack. “Do you need anything?”
“Maybe some ibuprofen?” Steve asks.
“Consider it done,” Eddie swears, melodramatic and serious as he places his free hand over his heart.
Steve offers him a wan smile and watches him go.
It takes a little more effort than he’d care to admit to get himself upright against the pillows, slow and achy as he’s feeling, and he drifts for a bit until Eddie comes back, announcing himself with the thunk of a water glass on the bedside table.
Eddie’s not only brought ibuprofen and water, but a plate of toast. When Steve inspects it more closely after taking the pills, he sees that Eddie’s spread the slices over with peanut butter—an easy way to get a little protein in when Steve may not be feeling up to eating much—and he feels a little like crying for reasons entirely unrelated to exhaustion.
He swallows back the desire to apologize again; making Eddie spend the day comforting him isn’t going to make things better. Instead, he asks, “Do you think maybe Dustin and the guys would want to go with you?”
“Nah, they’re spending the day working on their costumes,” Eddie says with a shrug.
“Oh.” Steve chews thoughtfully on a piece of toast. “Maybe you could go do that, instead? I know you still have work to do on yours, so–”
“Steve, I’m not going to abandon you when you’re feeling like shit,” Eddie cuts in, apparently a little baffled by Steve’s attempts to find him a new activity for the day.
“I’m probably just going to sleep. Not very exciting.” Steve shakes his head. “I just don’t want to completely wreck your day, you know?”
Eddie frowns. “My day isn’t wrecked. Am I a little disappointed we can’t go out like we planned? Sure.” He shrugs. “But I’m not, like, upset with you over it. Shit happens, baby.” Gently, Eddie brushes Steve’s messy bangs back and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Eat your toast, let the meds kick in, take a nap, and don’t worry about it. Hopefully, you’ll feel a little better after that.”
Steve isn’t sure what to say to that, isn’t sure how to express that he wouldn’t blame Eddie for being upset, even though he’s glad he’s not, and so he decides to just do as he’s told. He eats his toast, insists on taking his own plate to the kitchen so he can at least say he’d gotten up that morning, and then finds himself back in bed shortly after that, already dozing off.
When he wakes a few hours later, he can’t quite say he feels better, but he doesn’t feel worse, and sometimes that’s a win in itself. He can hear Eddie puttering around in the kitchen when he gets up to use the bathroom, and when he pokes his head in on the way back to the bedroom, Eddie seems more animated than he had when Steve had laid down again that morning.
“Hey.” Eddie grins when he looks up from their tiny dining table—which appears be strewn with… snacks?—to see Steve in the doorway. “How’re you feeling?”
“Eh.” Steve tilts his head to the side a bit in a sort of shrug. “What’s all this?”
“While you were napping, I had an idea,” Eddie says. “You feel up to moving to the couch?”
“Sure. You gonna tell me why?” Steve asks, craning his neck to try to see around Eddie.
Eddie shoos him out of the doorway and back down the hall. “You’ll see in a minute. Get your shit and get comfy, I’ll meet you out there.”
Uncertain about what he’s meant to be getting comfy for, Steve settles on changing into a fresh set of pajamas (it’s hardly as good as a shower, but it makes him feel a little cleaner, all the same) and bringing out a blanket and extra pillow.
The smell of popcorn hits him the moment he exits the bedroom, and he finds Eddie in the living room, busying himself with something on the coffee table. There is, in fact, a bowl of popcorn, accompanied by a few bags of candy and a stack of movies.
“Tada!” Eddie turns and throws his arms up like a showman when Steve shuffles into the room.
“Movie night?” Steve asks, then glances at the clock. “Uh– movie day?”
“Yeah! I figured if we weren’t going out, we’d have to get our cheap scares some other way, so I ran out and got a few things. Check it out.” Eddie holds up the movie cases for Steve’s inspection.
There’s a whole slew of selections: Fright Night, Dawn of the Dead, The Evil Dead, Psycho, Nightmare on Elm Street – Eddie had gone all out.
“You pick,” Steve insists, turning the cases back at Eddie. “This was your idea, after all.”
Eddie spends a long few moments humming in indecision before popping Psycho into the player (“We should start with a classic”) and then ushers Steve towards the couch.
“Go ahead and stretch out, if you want,” he says, and Steve shoots him a skeptical look.
“Where are you going to sit?”
Eddie pulls a throw pillow from the stack on the couch and tosses it on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. “Boom.”
Steve maintains his skepticism. He isn’t the only one with chronic pain, after all; maybe Eddie’s never announces itself quite as dramatically, but his scars give him trouble sometimes, and his back, if nothing else, won’t thank him for spending an entire afternoon on the floor.
“I’ll be fine for, like, one movie,” Eddie insists. “Lie down already.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve does as he’s told, arranging himself on the couch until he’s about as comfortable as he’s going to get, and waits for Eddie to do the same.
“Your Raisinets, you weirdo,” Eddie says as he passes the box of Steve’s preferred movie-going candy back over his shoulder.
“I don’t have to defend my life choices to a man currently combining popcorn and candy corn,” Steve retorts.
Eddie doesn’t even pause his snack crimes, shaking the bowl of popcorn a little to get the candy corn to mix in. “As a mutual friend would say: try before you deny,” Eddie replies sagely. “Besides, it’s festive.”
“Uh huh,” Steve hums, watching as the opening scene plays out. When Eddie finally settles, leaning back against the couch, Steve lays a hand over his shoulder, stroking a thumb against his chest. “Hey.” He waits for Eddie to turn, then takes a moment to defy the screaming of his muscles and bends to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Thank you.”
Eddie’s answering smile is immediate. “Anytime.”
And Steve doesn’t doubt that he means it.
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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months ago
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shit talkin' up all night
for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script
rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit
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The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.
They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.
It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.
"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.
"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."
"Then I'll get another job."
"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."
"Eds, you would hate it there."
"Well, it's a paycheck."
Steve sighed and walked away.
And then it got worse.
Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.
Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.
Back to square one.
Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.
Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.
Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.
It did start to work eventually.
"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.
"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.
Steve would push.
Eddie would push back.
Little things turned into big things.
And then Eddie came home drunk.
He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.
The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.
Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.
The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.
"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."
Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.
"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"
Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.
The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.
"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."
"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"
Eddie was silent.
"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"
Eddie shook his head once.
"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."
"Okay."
"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."
"Robin, I-"
"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."
Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.
He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.
Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.
When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.
"Eds? What's this?"
"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."
Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.
"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."
"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?
"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."
Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.
"You did all this for me?"
"For us."
"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"
"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.
They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.
"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."
"I know. I think it'll be great."
The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.
By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.
Steve leaned in to kiss him.
Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.
And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.
When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.
Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.
"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.
"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"
"Sounds good, love. Wine?"
Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.
Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."
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kittythelitter · 2 years ago
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Thinking about Steve getting disowned by his parents.
And he's talking to Eddie and Eddie calls him "Steve fucking Harrington." And Steve's like. "I'm not a Harrington anymore :( They took everything from me including my name." And he was like. Understandably sad about his name and his identity and the fact that his parents don't love him and all that.
And Eddie. In an attempt to cheer him is all flirty and offers his own name up for Steve to use. Steve sad laughs and says that if Eddie wants to propose he needs to do better than that.
While they're having this conversation Dustin is lurking and hears this and is outraged that Eddie thinks he can just. Give Steve his name without earning it. Steve should be a Henderson. He's basically Dustin's brother already.
Dustin complains about this to Will in front of Joyce and Joyce is like. Not if i can adopt him first.
Will mentions it to Lucas and Erica is like. Bitch he should be honored to be a Sinclair! And she tells her friends about it in front of Robin who's like. Excuse me. We are twins. He needs to be a Buckley.
Meanwhile Lucas mentioned it to Max and she's always down to compete with Dustin and also. Steve is her brother too asshat.
She complains to El about it. Hopper overhears and is like. Steve is disowned? Where's he living? I already adopted one kid in the past few years what's another.
Over the course of the next week everyone has decided that Steve is their family and he should live with them and/or take their last name.
They're all getting together just because they're all a bit codependent and need to get all together every few weeks or else they all start worrying.
Steve and Eddie are running late for whatever reason. (overslept. Steve's trying to do his hair. Steve found Eddie's 5-in-1 doesn't really matter except Steve and Eddie are together and Steve's been staying at Eddie and Wayne's new government issued house.)
By the time they arrive everyone is bickering, varying from Hopper quietly saying that Joyce already has two kids wouldn't it be better for Steve to have a parent who can give him more attention, to Max and Robin having a silent standoff to Erica and Dustin fully wrestling on the ground biting and scratching.
And Steve's like. "HEY! What the fuck is going on?"
And no one wants to admit how wild they've all gone in fighting to adopt Steve. So there's this awkward beat of silence before Dustin and Robin both break down and yell at Steve that he's their family and he should take their respective last name.
Steve is so overwhelmed he starts crying. And almost none of them have seen him cry. Like. Nancy and Robin. Maybe. And only when he's been pushed to his limit.
So everyone's like. Did we break him? Did we offend him? Did we accidentally remind him of his pain?
And he's just. Never felt this loved before.
Maybe he chooses one. Maybe he chooses all of them into a really long string of names. Maybe they develop some kind of elaborate competition to decide who earns Steve as family. Maybe there's some kind of rotation in place. Tbh I'd love to hear other people's ideas.
But I do know that the day it becomes legal, Steve's last name and Eddie's last name become the same. Maybe it's a hyphen. Maybe Eddie charges his name to Buckley-Byers-Henderson-Hopper-Mayfield-Sinclair-Wheeler (alphabetical was decided to be the most fair).
And no matter what Steve is so so loved and everyone makes sure he knows it.
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dynamic-power · 1 year ago
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This wasn't going to be more than a little one-off. But due to popular demand, here's a part two. 😄
Back to the Past part 2
CW: Brief panic attack
Part 1
"I... uh. What?"
Eddie, because Steve is certain now that this is, in fact, Eddie Munson, frowns a little. "Memories," he says, firmly but not unkindly. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"Uh." Steve's brain is racing, but not with anything particularly helpful.
He and Robin are going to the high school again to help with relief efforts. There's a strange guy named Argyle staying in Steve's guest room. He's taking Dustin to meet Wayne Munson soon. They have been given permission to recover whatever they can from the Munson trailer. Dustin wants to help because Eddie is-
Eddie is-
Eddie is sitting right in front of him, watching him with those big, dark eyes. He's being so patient, waiting for Steve to finish whatever processing he needs to do, but honestly, the only thing that truly catches Steve off-guard is the fact that Eddie is-
"You're alive."
Eddie's frown deepens for a moment before he seems to understand what Steve is saying. Once he does, though, he grins, wide and happy and contagious, just like Steve remembers.
"Yeah, Stevie, I'm alive."
"You're old."
Eddie collapses back against his pillow and bursts into laughter. Deep, belly-shaking laughter that has Steve biting back a smile.
When he catches his breath again, Eddie looks up at him with shining eyes. "Of course the two things you focus on are our wedding photos and my age."
"You aren't freaking out."
"Neither are you," Eddie counters, and he's right.
Strangely enough, Steve isn't panicking. Actually, in the last few moments with Eddie and the comfort of warm blankets and his warmer laughter, Steve's breathing had evened out again.
"What's going on? You don't seem surprised."
Eddie sighs and lifts his arms, crossing them behind his head. He shifts, putting a little more distance between their bodies. Steve wonders if he's done that on purpose.
Then Eddie's feet wiggle under the covers, trying not to kick the sleeping cat as he shuffles the heavy comforter down his body. Steve's eyes immediately drift down as his torso, and the scars, come into view.
They're horrific; slashes and starbursts and a whole chunk missing from his side just below his ribcage -
And suddenly Steve is there, in the Upside Down. His hands are covered in blood, Eddie's blood, and he can't breathe without tasting the stench of death and decay on the back of his tongue and his heart rate spikes as he darkness starts to tunnel his vision.
But Eddie, alive and smiling and laughing Eddie, is there, gripping his arm firmly and talking to him.
"Stevie, focus on me. Come on, love, I know you can do it. Focus on my voice and breathe with me." A large hand falls onto his chest, warm against his naked skin, and he does what Eddie tells him.
He focuses on Eddie's voice and his toucb and breathes with him until the darkness fades and he finds himself in an unfamiliar bedroom again.
"Good job, Steve. Now, can you count with me?"
Counting. Steve can do that. He knows he can, and he does until his breathing calms again. He's sweaty, and the cool air of the bedroom stings his skin. One of them has tossed away the covers, and the cat has disappeared, and he's sitting half naked in bed with Eddie Munson. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the lingering panic and adrenaline only let him cry, and so he does, leaning against the familiar stranger beside him.
-----
Part 3
Tag list-
@clumsiluni @l0st-strawberry @aol19 @newtstabber
Lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list 💜
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adverbally · 4 months ago
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Conversations with Dead People
Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Ghosts” | wc: 1,159 | rated: T | cw: past major character death, brief passive suicidal ideation | tags: grief, not a fix-it, Eddie is Dead | title from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that inspired this fic (season 7, episode 7)
This takes place in an AU where Steve and Eddie have been together since shortly after the events of season 3. The events of season 4 happen as they do in canon.
———
He’s not really a ghost, Eleven had explained. It’s more like residual psychic energy that Eddie left behind when he died. An echo, lingering, a telepathic reverberation of his soul or brain waves or whatever made him Eddie. Him, but not. It’s a distinction that Steve can’t seem to make, not when he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of his living room in front of El, waiting for her to make contact.
“Eddie?” Steve asks tentatively. “Are you there?”
El is quiet behind her blindfold for a moment. “He says, ‘Hey, Stevie.’”
He doesn’t know what he was expecting but shock forces a laugh out of him, too loud and a little wet. “Hey, Eds.” He hasn’t said those words in months but it still feels natural, like a reflex. “I miss you.”
“He misses you too. He sounds sad but he’s smiling,” El reports matter of factly.
“You can see him?” Somehow this might be the thing that breaks Steve, the longing and the fear of seeing him again twisting in his gut. “Is he– does he look–”
“He looks normal. Not hurt. But he says you look like shit.”
Eddie can see him, Eddie is okay, Eddie is trying to joke around to make him feel better, Eddie is so close but out of reach and… Steve’s face crumples.
He can’t do this. Why is he doing this? Hope and despair are warring in a sticky lump in his throat, choking him until he can’t speak. He’s wasting his chance to talk to Eddie again. He doesn’t want to talk to him, he wants to feel him, cold hands and strong arms and sharp teeth and soft lips. He wants him back. He wants to be with him.
“‘Don’t cry, baby.’” The words are soft and clunky coming from El’s mouth but Steve knows exactly how Eddie must sound on the other side.
The sob he was suppressing rips its way out of him. “I miss you,” he says again, stupidly, but he can’t think of anything else. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes like they can stem the flood of tears now that they have begun. “I miss you so much.”
The static on the radio is the only response for long seconds before El says, “He’s crying now. He says he’s sorry. Not sorry he did it but sorry it turned out like this.”
Steve shakes his head. Any real anger he felt toward Eddie had been short lived, but the reminder stings. “You had to be a hero, huh?”
“‘It was worth it to keep you safe.’”
He tries not to think too hard about how much he wishes he could’ve switched places with Eddie. Eddie wouldn’t have let him, of course, stubborn as he is. Was. Is? Steve clears his throat before asking, “Are you… okay?”
It’s a stupid question. How can Eddie be okay? What could Steve do about it anyway? Thankfully Eddie seems to understand what he was trying to ask.
“‘I’m still dead, sweetheart,’” Eddie-El says, almost apologetically. “‘But I’m okay. I’m not in pain, I’m safe. It’s not like being in the Upside Down. It’s peaceful.’”
“Okay. That’s good,” Steve says, almost to himself.
El tilts her head like she’s listening. “He says he watches out for you.”
God, what must Eddie have seen over the past three months? How many nights had Steve sobbed himself to sleep, clutching Eddie’s pillow and trying to memorize its fading scent? How often had Steve put on a brave face to comfort Dustin and reassure him that Eddie’s death wasn’t his fault? How many times had Steve gone to visit Wayne, both of them sitting at the kitchen table while they cried into their cups of coffee and silently mourned the way that the trailer seemed so damn empty without Eddie there to fill it?
“‘Are you okay?’” El asks on Eddie’s behalf.
“We’re just trying to keep it together. It’s…” Steve wipes his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. It was Eddie’s hoodie, actually, but Steve kept stealing it. It’s soft and it smells good! You’re never getting it back! he had laughed. Now it smells more like Steve than Eddie and he couldn’t give it back even if he wanted to. “It’s really fucking hard without you.”
“‘You’re always looking out for everyone else. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?’” The inflection of it sounds like goodbye, like all those mornings of Eddie gearing up to head back to the trailer before Wayne noticed, like Steve begging for just one more kiss before Eddie left.
But there’s something final in it this time that makes panic surge in Steve’s chest.
“Nonono, don’t go, you can’t– you just got here, you can’t just leave,” he babbles, wishing Eddie had a physical presence he could hold on to. The logical part of Steve’s mind knew that this was only temporary, that any echo will eventually fade, but he hadn’t realized it would be so soon.
“‘I wish I could stay.’” El sounds so sad when she speaks for him.
Steve presses his hands to his mouth, tries to hold in the terrible sound of his grief until Eddie isn’t there to hear it anymore. He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice level despite the tears streaming down his face. “Will I see you again?”
“‘Hopefully not for a long, long time.’”
He thinks of the past three months, thinks of going through that three more times to make a year, then all of that over and over for as many years as he has left… It sounds like pure torture.
“‘Promise me,’” Eddie-El insists.
“I promise.” Steve’s voice breaks, but he tries to crack a smile when he remembers Eddie can see him. “Stay out of trouble?”
Even before El says, “He laughed at that,” Steve is picturing Eddie’s head tossed back with the force of his guffaw, his dark eyes glimmering with amusement. It settles something in him.
“I love you,” Steve says, snotty and shaky but as solemn as a wedding vow.
The radio stutters then, sounding like it’s flipping through frequencies on its own. When the jumble of static and indistinct speech stops, Steve hears Eddie’s voice, loud and clear, for the first time since March.
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” he announces. Soft and warm like spending a lazy morning in bed. Bright and smiley like adoring someone in a way that can’t be hidden. Exhilarated and awed like collapsing together in a sweaty, spent heap. Bittersweet like a kiss goodnight, like a little white lie, like a promise that has to be broken.
Steve feels that voice surrounding him, crashing over and through him. He shuts his eyes and hugs himself, tries to hold himself together, until the radio shuts itself off.
Then, in the echoing silence of his living room, Steve lets himself fall to pieces.
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stevie-petey · 1 month ago
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episode five: the nina project
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.” “Five more minutes?” “Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home.  Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
Summary: you and dustin steal pancakes to spite ted wheeler, steve just wants one morning of peace, nancy takes you to a haunted house, cobwebs are surprisingly intimate to remove from someone, and vecna decides to play flashlight tag with everyone. hes so sweet :)
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: mentions of blood, panic attack, , swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hey gang ! i present chapter 5, aka my least favorite ep of season 4 </3 however, she was very fun to write and i enjoyed twisting some scenes together ;) enjoy, thank yall for waitin !
“Hey, bee.”
The line is quiet.
You sound tired, you know Jonathan will hear the exhaustion in your voice, and he’ll worry. 
“I, uh. I miss you.” And you do. 
You’re in the Wheeler’s kitchen, Nancy and the others are down in the basement, trying to pretend that tonight they’ll fall asleep. The reality is that you’re all too afraid to fall asleep. The terror of what could happen in the dark ensures this. 
Steve sits on the counter across from you. He stares down at his hands, picks at his nails. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to tell Jonathan. When you demanded to call him, Steve had originally denied you. He didn’t understand why you’d want to talk to him or why you’d risk not having your walkman on after what happened with Max. 
But then you’d broken down into tears and Steve gave in.
“Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while.” To think that four days without hearing Jonathan’s voice is now considered a while saddens you. For years you couldn’t go more than a few hours without his voice. “But, um. It’s been… it’s been awful, without you.”
I could die tomorrow and I can’t remember what your hand felt like within mine.
A tear falls down your face and you wipe it away. You’re so tired of crying. “I don’t… I don’t know how much you remember, the last time we spoke. I just-I’ve had the worst week of my life and I could really use your voice right now.”
Jonathan is still the one you run to. He always will be. 
The line remains quiet. 
“Please, can you just… call me? I–” breath catching in your throat, you choke on the words that simmer on your tongue. “I’m really scared, bee.” 
This is the first time you’ve ever spoken the words out loud. They’re whispered, they come out hushed, as if afraid someone will overhear and call you weak. 
The voicemail line beeps, indicating that you’ve used up all your time to record the message. Numb, you place the phone against the wall. 
Steve looks up, sensing the conversation as drawn to a close. He stands up and wraps you in his arms. You’re cold to the touch. It unnerves him. You’ve always been so warm, so full of heat. “Did he… what did Jonathan say?”
Your head drops against his chest. “He didn’t answer. Voicemail.”
“Oh.”
The silence drags on a painfully long time. You reside in Steve’s arms, seeking comfort in whatever touch you allow from him. Your headphones, which rest against your neck, dig into Steve’s uncomfortably. Clearing his throat, he taps them with his finger. “Music?”
You nod, too tired to fight him. Ever since the cemetery, Steve and Dustin have insisted that you never take your headphones off. Music is what saved Max; they’re convinced they can keep you out of harm’s reach if you listen to your favorite song as well. 
“The tape, please?” You mumble softly to Steve, slowly lifting your arm to point to the kitchen table.
Understanding what you’re asking, he quickly lets go of you to retrieve it. Grabbing the old tape, his fingers find your walkman buried in your pocket. Steve puts the tape inside, eyes skimming over the writing that resides on it.
For bug.
“Will you ever tell Nancy?” He finds himself asking, unaware that the question had even been on his mind. 
It was only days ago that Steve’s biggest problem had been Jonathan’s vague question of “what if”. Now he stands in Nancy’s kitchen, cradling your body, wondering just how many more hours he has left with you. 
You rub your head tiredly. “I will, it’s just…”
I could be dead by tomorrow.
The words go unsaid, hanging in the air between you and Steve.
He stares down at you. Guilt twists in his chest. He’s caught between you and Nancy, between saving you and sparing you. A strand of hair falls in your eyes. Steve brushes it aside, his cracked lips press against your forehead. 
“Hey,” Lucas stands awkwardly by the kitchen counter. He looks between you and Steve, a sad, yet nervous look in his eyes. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Max told me to come get you, Y/N.”
“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, stepping out of Steve’s arms. 
Lucas sees your worry and immediately raises his hands. “She’s fine, she’s just five seconds away from murdering Dustin. He keeps trying to turn her music all the way up and it’s hurting her ears.”
A ghost of a smile crosses your face. In his own, albeit flawed way, Dustin is trying to show how much he cares for you and Max. “I’ll talk to him.”
While Lucas nods with relief, you kiss Steve’s cheek and wish him a soft goodbye. The two boys are left alone in the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler have long since gone to bed. Holly, too. 
Steve clears his throat. Lucas hasn’t left yet, and Steve doesn’t really know what to do. It’s been an exhausting few days. All he wants to focus on right now is you; already your absence makes his body weak. 
“How do you do it?” Lucas is so quiet that Steve almost doesn’t hear him at first. 
“What?”
“How do you do it?” Lucas asks again, this time with more urgency in his voice. He’s looking at Steve, his body stoic. There are tears in his eyes, though Steve doesn’t say anything. “How can you love Y/N and not want her to die?”
The question stuns Steve. 
Lucas stares up at him and for a moment he looks like the twelve year old kid he met all those years ago. Only now he’s fifteen, taller than ever before, and he’s experienced more loss than any kid ever should. 
Steve forgets, sometimes. How young they all are.
He sighs. “Look, Lucas–”
“I don’t think I can do it.” The boy leans against the counter, his entire body weight threatens to collapse. “I just, I love Max so much. And seeing her today… she almost-she almost–”
Lucas inhales suddenly. He doesn’t allow himself to cry, he doesn’t want Max to see the tear stains later. He shakes his head, instead. “What do you do, when the person you live for is already set on dying?”
Steve wants to tell him that you and Max aren’t dying. He wants to tell the teen that they’ve faced worse monsters than Vecna. They’ve escaped Russian lairs and navigated tunnels rooted with poisonous particles. They saved Will, closed a gate that was an endless abyss. 
But none of it amounts to the loss they’d feel if you and Max died; Lucas is the only one who truly understands this. 
So Steve doesn’t lie to him. 
Instead, he says, “You hold their hand.”
And that’s all they can do. 
Everyone takes turns watching over you and Max that night. It was Nancy’s idea, one you were entirely against. 
“Max is the one who had the vision, I don’t need you guys–”
“Shut up, Y/N.” 
The argument was over before it even really began. Dustin had shoved your headphones back on and turned the volume so high that you nearly winced. Steve laughed before dragging you over to the couch and forcing you to lay with him. 
“I’ll be first watch for Y/N.”
Robin had rolled her eyes. “I know death is like, totally evident. But you disgust me.”
Soft laughter rippled through everyone, but soon the shadows fell and night took over. Despite your protesting and insistence that the Beatles would keep you up all night, you somehow fall asleep against Steve’s chest. 
It’s the first time you’ve slept through the night in weeks.
– 
You wake up to Nancy shouting at Dustin.
“Then where is she?” She exclaims, shaking his shoulders.
Still half asleep, it takes you a few moments to understand what’s going on. “Where’s who?” You ask through a yawn, rubbing your eyes. 
“Max!” Nancy glares at your brother. “She isn’t down here, Dustin was supposed to keep watch.”
Your heart stops. Immediately you sit up, ignoring Steve’s groaning as you forcefully shove against his chest to stand. Even though you roughly pull from his grasp, he’s back asleep in seconds. “What do you mean she isn’t here?”
“I swear I just dozed off for like…” Dustin looks down at his watch, worried and guilty, and his face pales when he realizes what he’s done. “An hour.”
“Dustin!” You screech, now panicking as well. Before he can say anything else, you’re already running up the steps to find Max. Nancy follows close behind. “I swear to God, if she’s hurt–”
Max sits at the dining room table, head down with her headphones on. You and Nancy let out heavy sighs of relief while Dustin rolls his eyes in annoyance. 
Mrs. Wheeler greets you in the kitchen. “Good morning, guys!” When she notices you holding your chest, she frowns slightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Nancy breathes out, her own nerves finally settling. “Everything’s… okay.”
“Very okay.” You chime in, forcing a happy smile on your face. Pointing to the pancakes on the stove, you hum with gratitude. “Especially now that I know you’ve made your famous pancakes, Mrs. Wheeler.”
“Aw, you’re very kind, Y/N.” The woman gushes. She grabs a plate and starts piling the pancakes on. “Here, take as many as you’d like. You know, I think it’s sweet that you guys are sticking together like this.”
Mr. Wheeler flicks his newspaper with a huff. “Could try sticking together at a different house for a change.”
Nancy ignores her father and walks towards where Max is sitting. You and Dustin share a look, both of you despise the man. Shoving a pancake into your mouth, you moan dramatically. “But where else would I get such fantastic food, Ted?”
He glares at you while Mrs. Wheeler chuckles. “You know you kids are welcomed here anytime.”
“Totally, you’re like family.” Dustin smiles kindly at her before pointing to the remaining, untouched pancakes. “May I?”
Mrs. Wheeler readily offers your brother a plate and he eagerly starts stacking as much as food as he can. You grab a few more pancakes for yourself; they’ve always been your favorite. Mr. Wheeler notices you grabbing more and he narrows his eyes. “Yeah, why not? Take us for all we’re worth.”
“You heard the man.” You nod at Dustin, catching his eye.
Understanding immediately, your brother smiles even wider. “Okay!” 
Together, the two of you grab the remaining stack of pancakes and throw them onto your plates. Mr. Wheeler watches in disdain, his coffee cup raised just before his mouth. Seeing the mug, you gasp. “Oh! Mrs. Wheeler, could I possibly bother you for some coffee as well? I know Mr. Wheeler really values his expensive roast, but with everything happening this week…”
You stare up at the woman, eyes wide and innocent. Mrs. Wheeler places a hand against her heart and coos at you. “Oh, of course you can have some of Ted’s coffee, honey. Let me fix it right up for you.”
“You’re too kind.” You thank her, shoving yet another pancake into your mouth. Speaking through the food, you turn to her husband. “Thanks, Ted!”
Dustin snickers while the man clenches his jaw. Satisfied, you make your way over to the table and join Max and Nancy. 
“Holly let me borrow some of her crayons.” Max explains as you sit down. There are papers scattered all over the table. “We’ve been having fun all morning, right, Holly?”
The young girl hums in agreement, not looking up from her Lite Brite. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hey, Holly.” You pinch her cheek, causing her to giggle. It’s rare to see Holly outside of the Wheeler house. You’ve babysat her a few times over the years, and she enjoys the cookies you make, but your interactions have always been limited. She seems to like you though, which pleases you. “Can I draw as well?”
Holly nods enthusiastically and quickly hands you a crayon and paper. “Here!”
“Thank you,” you accept the blue crayon and start to doodle something, keeping the girl distracted. As she colors with you, you finally look at the drawings that litter the table.
When your eyes land on them, you forget how to breathe for a moment. They’re horrible, filled with blood red. Ruined landscapes surround bodies wrapped in vines. The figures are twisted, disjointed. 
“You drew these, Max?” The thought terrifies you. 
“Is this what you saw last night?” Nancy asks softly, her expression mirrors your horrified one. 
Max shifts uncomfortably. “It’s supposed to be. I, uh. Thought it’d be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but… not so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out, reaching across the table to grab her hand. 
Nancy touches one of the drawings, this one depicting Fred’s and Chrissy’s corpses. “Is that…?”
“It was like they were on display or something.”
You nearly gag. “Oh, my God.”
Max doesn’t look at you. “And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare.”
Nancy asks if Vecna could just be trying to scare her, but Max doesn’t seem sure. She explains how he originally used Billy, but last night felt different. “He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there.”
You frown at this. “Then that would mean Fred and Chrissy never made it to wherever you were. That Vecna didn’t take them there.”
“Maybe you infiltrated his mind.” Dustin offers as an explanation, now joining at the table. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?”
“It makes sense,” you bite your lip, abandoning the drawing you were working on with Holly. 
“Like Freddie Krueger’s boiler room.” Dustin adds, oddly excited about the idea. When Holly doesn’t understand the reference, your brother readily explains. “He’s a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers.”
“Dustin,” you try to get his attention, worried he’ll frighten the kid.
But of course he continues. “And he kills you in your dreams–”
“Dustin.” It takes smacking his head to finally shut him up. He yelps in pain, cowering, but you glare at him. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”
“She wanted to know about Freddie Krueger!”
“She’s a kid.”
“But–”
You hit Dustin’s shoulder this time. “Apologize and tell Holly that Freddie Krueger isn’t real.”
After begrudgingly apologizing to Holly and explaining that it’s all just a movie, Dustin adjusts his hat and continues the conversation from earlier. “Anyways, just think about it. What if Max somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna’s world?”
“You mean, like another gate?” You’re so tired of goddamn gates.
Dustin shrugs. “Possibly? Who knows, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing.” He stares down at the picture he’s picked up and scowls. “God, we need Will.”
“For his artistic abilities or his connection to the Upside Down?” You ask, looking around the table. “Because either way, I agree.”
Max shakes her head, annoyed. “I tried calling them again this morning, but it’s the same busy signal.”
“I wasn’t able to get through last night, either.” You admit, watching with slight curiosity as Nancy starts compiling all the drawings. “Anything catching your eye, Wheeler?”
“Is this a window?” She asks Max, who quickly says yes. “Stained glass with roses?”
Max perks up. “Yeah. See? I’m not so terrible after all.”
Sipping your coffee, you wave the mug at her, unconvinced. “Your composition could use some work.”
She glares at you, but Nancy doesn’t pay attention to any of it. Instead, she starts sorting through the drawings with vigor. “Well, it helps that I’ve seen it before.”
Before anyone can question what she means, Nancy starts folding pieces together and arranging them. At first you’re confused. You don’t understand what she’s trying to do. But as the pieces start to take shape and you recognize what she’s doing, you drop your crayon in shock.
“It’s pieces of a house.” Max realizes as well.
“Holy shit…”
Nancy grabs a marker and outlines the house’s shape. She fills in the windows, adds details that she shouldn’t know about. “Not just any house.” 
She folds another drawing, careful with its edges. The drawing becomes a clock, its center the rose stained glass. Nancy drops the folded up grandfather clock in the center of the house she’s created. It lands with a quiet, yet final, thud.
Seeing the house unnerves you, and you shiver slightly. Nancy notices your unease and her eyes soften with dread. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You suck in a breath and Nancy is already leaving the table. Dustin looks at you, confused, before calling out to her. “Where’re you going?”
“To wake the others.”
“I just wanted pancakes,” you mumble sadly, quickly shoving the breakfast aside so that you can follow after Nancy. 
She’s already shaking Lucas awake by the time you catch up. Robin is slouched against the coffee table and you take pity on her. Nudging her softly, you ease her awake. “Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
“Why does my neck hurt?” She groans, eyes still closed.
You laugh. “Because you decided to sleep against a table, dummy.”
“Why’d you let me do that?”
“Blame Steve, not me.” You kiss her forehead, leaving her to wake up more on her own. Nancy has finally managed to rouse Lucas, so you turn to where Steve still sleeps soundly on the couch. He looks so young when he sleeps. His delicate features aren’t clouded by the worry he always seems to carry with him.
The morning sun seeps through the only window in the basement and basks against Steve’s face. He’s a warm honey-orange in the glow, and your chest constricts in a sickly sweet way that you’ve come to love. Walking over to him slowly, you press yourself against him and litter kisses across his face.
Steve scrunches his nose, surprised by your sudden body heat. “Y/N?”
“Nancy may have connected Victor Creel and Vecna.” You tell him in lieu of good morning. 
He opens his eyes, blinking a few times as he yawns. You don’t think he’s heard you, he’s never been a morning person. “What…?”
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home. 
Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
You know that Nancy will be upset you’re taking so long, you know you should be next to Max, making sure her headphones are on, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from Steve. You know you’ve asked so much from him lately; expected more from Steve than you know he’s willing to give you. And so, for now, you indulge him, risking a kiss before the others see.
Steve kisses you back; he always kisses you back. His lips move against yours, languid and slow, and for a moment everything is okay again between you.
– 
“Nancy, you know I trust your judgment,” you poke your head through the trunk’s gap and find the girl’s eyes in the rearview mirror. You’re in the back of the car with Steve and Dustin while Nancy drives. “But do we really have to do this?”
“It’s the only way we’ll get answers.” She sighs, although she also looks uneasy as her car comes to a stop. Nancy parks and everyone silently gets out. 
In front of you is an old, dilapidated house. Its shutters are boarded up, the blue paint has long since chipped away and rusted over. The yard before it is a mess; weeds grow everywhere and old debris litters the green. No one has touched this house in years, maybe even decades.
“The Creel house,” you murmur to yourself. The wind around you picks up, a chill hangs in the air. Every nerve inside your body stands on edge, screaming at you to run away. There’s something ominous, dangerous even, about this house. 
You don’t like any part of this.
“Yeah, that’s not creepy.” Steve voices what everyone is thinking.
Max sees your discomfort and she nudges you softly. “Hey, it’s just a stupid house.”
Shame washes over you. Max shouldn’t be the one offering comfort. It should be you reassuring her, not the other way around. Swallowing thickly, you nod at the girl before following the others. 
When you get closer to the house, it becomes clear that you’ll have to break in. A padlock rests against the boarded up door. Nails are rusted into its wood, sealing the horrors within the house. Steve groans. “Oh, joy.”
“I brought hammers, we can try to pry the nails out.” Nancy says, as if it’s perfectly normal to bring hammers with you to a haunted house.
“Of course you brought hammers.”
Nancy ignores you and runs back to the car, quickly returning with the tools. She hands one to Steve, who wastes no time digging into the nails and pulling them out of the wood. Nancy joins him, but it’s an achingly slow process.
“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve grunts, pulling off yet another nail.
“We’re not sure,” Nancy admits, wincing slightly at a particularly difficult nail. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”
“Sure, so let’s bring Max and Y/N to a place from Vecna’s red soup mind world.”
You flick Steve’s head, sending Nancy an apologetic frown. “He’s just upset he couldn’t sleep in today.”
“Maybe the house holds a clue to where Vecna is.” Dustin suggests. “Why he’s back, why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max, or before he tries to go after Y/N.”
“We’re stopping him before he comes back for Max.” You remind everyone, an edge in your voice.
The group is quiet for a moment. Steve and Nancy share a concerned look with one another, something unspoken passes between them. The look upsets you, but you don’t have time to care. Eventually the silence becomes too much for Lucas, and he hesitantly asks if anyone thinks Vecna is actually inside the house.
“Guess we’ll find out.” Max says, looking at you briefly. The last nail falls, and together Steve and Nancy pull the board off the doorframe. It lands with a loud thud on the porch, sending fallen leaves and dirt into the air. 
You cough. “Christ.”
“Sorry, angel.” Steve looks remorseful, but you wave him off. He faces the door and twists the knob. It doesn’t budge. “Should I knock, see if anybody’s home?”
“No need,” Robin calls out, and it’s only then that you realize she’s no longer beside you but rather halfway in the front yard. She’s holding up a brick, a wicked smile on her face. “I found a key.”
“Oh dear God.” Your eyes widen. Steve tugs at your jacket as soon as Robin throws the brick. You fall against his chest, heart pounding. The stained glass shatters. Poking your head through the broken glass, you breathe out. “Nice, Robin.”
She bows. “I try.”
Steve gently pushes you aside so that he can reach his arm through the hole. He’s careful not to touch the jagged edges of the glass. Finding the knob on the other side, he twists it roughly, unlocking the door.
He’s the first to go in, and he lets out a low whistle. “Jesus.”
You follow after him, turning your flashlight on in the process. The stench of mildew is what you notice first. It’s poignant, intermixed with the scent of dust and discarded furniture. The house is filthy, covered in cobwebs; it’s practically frozen in time. 
Lucas tries to turn a light on, but it’s useless. Everyone turns their flashlights on, and Steve looks around, bewildered. “Where’d everyone get those?”
Dustin turns to him and lets out a surprised huff when he realizes Steve doesn’t have anything in his hands. “Do you need to be told everything? You’re not a child.”
Steve stares at him and you roughly hit your brother’s chest. He can be such a jerk sometimes, you don’t understand where this shift has come from. “Don’t be such an asshole.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” Steve accepts the spare flashlight you hand him while Dustin rubs the spot where you hit him, tossing his bag to the ground. 
You walk deeper into the house, scanning your flashlight over the furniture strewn throughout. Draped cloth covers them. A mirror stands before you, its frame a rusted gold. You find a girl in its reflection, and for a moment you almost don’t recognize that it’s you. 
“Hey, guys?” Max calls out to everyone, catching your attention. She’s standing in front of something, an uneasy look on her face. “You all see that, right?”
She’s pointing her flashlight at a grandfather clock. You stumble back when you see it, breath catching. The bones in your body scream at you to run away. “Is that…?”
You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, but Max understands anyways. She nods, eyes never leaving the grandfather clock, silently confirming that it’s the one she saw in her vision. 
“I don’t like this.” You turn to the group. None of you should be here, you had no right to enter the abandoned house. 
“C’mon, Y/N. I mean, it’s just a clock, right?” Robin shrugs half-heartedly. Before you can stop her, she steps closer to it and wipes her hand against its glass. Dust smears away. “Just an old clock.”
Steve isn’t convinced. “Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?”
“Please don’t call him a wizard.” If you’re going to die, you’d rather it be at the hand of some dangerous, other dimensional creature. Not a wizard. 
“Sorry, but what if he’s like, I don’t know. A clockmaker or something?” 
Dustin breathes heavily through his nose. “I think you cracked the case, Steve.”
“All I know is that the answers are here.” Nancy looks around, not sounding as convincing as she’d like. “Somewhere.”
“You really want us to stay here?” You ask her, slight resentment in your voice. You trust Nancy, you always have, but something feels wrong about all of this. There’s this voice, screaming in your head, to get out. To leave, never return; the voice won’t leave, and you’re afraid it’ll rip your skull to pieces soon. 
Nancy offers you a reassuring smile. She understands your fear, that she’s asking a lot from you and Max right now. She’s placed you in the heart of the monster that wants you to die. “Everyone will stick together, no one will be alone. We’ll stay in groups. I promise.”
“But–”
“Robin, upstairs.” Nancy instructs, pointing towards the steps for the girl to follow her. They’re gone in seconds, already off on their own adventure yet again. Your throat feels gummy with fear. 
Max grabs Lucas’ hand and rushes off without another word. Steve and Dustin are left with you. They exchange words, bickering about something, though you don’t process what they’re saying. They wander off somewhere, unaware that you’re lost in your panic. Breath spiking rapidly, your muscles tense together, prepared to run. You need to leave. This isn’t safe. You’re going to die.
Light headed, you blindly fall against the stairs behind you. You’re struggling to breathe, the room spins. Desperate, your head falls towards your knees. Curling into yourself, you try to steady your breathing. You think you’re having a panic attack.
In through your nose. 
Out through your mouth. 
Except your breath gets stuck in your throat and blood drips from your nose. Frantic, you harshly wipe at your face, smearing the blood even more. 
Your first nosebleed. Another one of the symptoms. No one can know about this. 
The grandfather clock looms over you; it taunts you. 
“Hey, Dustin. You there?” A voice breaks through your panicked haze. “Remember me?”
They’re familiar. You know the person, you know you do. Carefully, you lift your head up. Looking around, you try to find the source of the voice. 
“Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think I might be in a bit of trouble here.”
It’s Dustin’s bag. 
“Wheeler? Anybody?”
“Eddie?” You rasp, barely able to pronounce his name. Your mouth is numb, your body still stuck in its terrified state. You have to press the walkie close to your lips, too weak to say anything else. 
“Henderson?” While Eddie is relieved someone answered him, he’s surprised that it’d been you. “Can you-can you get your brother? I’m kinda in deep shit.”
Your stomach twists at the anxiety in his voice. “He’s not with me.”
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jason–” Static comes through, cutting off whatever Eddie is trying to tell you. “They-it’s not–”
The static intensifies. You hit the walkie, frustrated. “Hello?”
“–Boat and I think–” Eddie cuts in and out in a dizzying manner. “Here, and they’re–holes!”
“Holes?” None of what he’s saying makes any sense. “Boats? Are you-are you trying to tell me that there are holes in the boat?”
“No!” Eddie screeches, but then the broadcast goes out completely. 
You stare down at the walkie, brows knit together in confusion. “What the fuck?” 
But Eddie doesn’t respond. It’s quiet again. 
With a huff, you toss the walkie back into Dustin’s bag and sling it over your shoulder. At the very least, the bizarre conversation with Eddie was enough to pull you out of whatever spiral you’d been in. Steve and Dustin will be looking for you soon, probably even send out a search party if you don’t follow them upstairs. 
“‘The world is full of obvious things,’” Dustin’s horrible British accent greets you when you finally find him upstairs. He’s standing with Steve in a random room, though the older teen doesn’t look particularly pleased. “‘Which nobody by any chance ever observes.’”
Steve looks at your brother as if he’s grown a second head. You lean against the doorway, smiling slightly. “It’s a Sherlock Holmes quote, Steve.”
Both boys whip their heads around to face you. Dustin looks shocked, while Steve looks like he’s seconds away from strangling you. “Were you-were you alone?”
“Dude, how could you?” Dustin shoves his chest, already blaming him for abandoning you. “You know we can’t just leave her alone, she’s practically patient zero!” 
Steve slaps Dustin’s hands away and reels back to yell at him, but you step between them. “Okay, first of all, I’m cursed. Not infectious. Second of all, you both wandered off without me, but I’m not a goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, but–”
You hold up your walkman up to Dustin’s face, shutting him up. “I also have this, in case you two idiots forgot.” 
“That’s great,” Steve responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s real great. Totally reassuring that your life rests in a walkman.”
“Take it or leave it, Harrington.”
“Actually, can we go back to you knowing Sherlock Holmes? I’m dating a nerd. That can’t be good for my image.”
Dustin snorts. He pats Steve’s chest, already walking away. “Yeah, okay, buddy. Your ‘image’.” 
Steve scoffs at him and you pull the two boys away. “Stop being annoying, we’re supposed to be looking for clues or whatever the hell Nancy told us to do.”
No one argues, and the three of you split up. Dustin wanders towards one side of the room, you make sure to keep an eye on him as he looks around. You go with Steve, following him to the other side. 
A vent catches Steve’s eye. He nods towards it, alerting you of it as well. You shrug, indifferent. He bends down, opening it to reveal a collection of jars with twigs and debris inside. You make a face. “Gross.”
Steve reaches inside, picking up one of the jars. He brings it closer, aiming his flashlight to illuminate its contents. When the light reveals dead spiders inside, your heart lurches fearfully. You’re fucking terrified of spiders. 
And then, naturally, one begins crawling up Steve’s arm.
You scream, your fear alerting him of the insect. Steve drops the jar and quickly swats at his shoulder, stumbling backwards. He’s freaking out, so are you. You’re hitting his shoulder as you scream, stuck between wanting to help him and wanting to leave him for dead. 
“Stop!” You screech, falling backwards as well.
Steve doesn’t hear you, breaking through the doorway, before the two of you collide into another body. “Woah!” 
Nancy’s arm steadies you, concern etches her face. “What’s wrong?” 
“There was a spider,” Steve speaks for you, panting. He knows your fear of the creature. He brushes at his jacket, as if he can still feel it crawling upon him. “It was a black widow.”
Your heartbeat is in your chest. Looking at the door you crashed through, you topple forward and slam it shut. “Fuck this room.”
“That bad, huh?” Nancy can’t hide her laugh. She feels bad that you had to experience a black widow, but your almost childish reaction amuses her. 
“Fuck spiders.” Is all you can say. 
Nancy starts to laugh again, but stops mid-way. “Oh, oh no.” Her hand reaches towards Steve, her fingers find his hair. 
Steve flinches away, both from shock that she’s even touching him and from the idea that there’s something residing in his hair. “Is there something? Shit, okay.” He instinctively moves towards you, freaking out, but Nancy gently chides him. 
“Stop moving, come here.” She stands behind him now, her fingers still in his hair. Softly tussling the strands, you watch as she gently plucks a cobweb. “I got it.”
It’s the way her voice softens when she speaks to Steve, the delicate way her fingers course through his hair as if she’s always done this. You suppose, in a way, that the delicacy comes from practiced ease. She used to do it all the time. 
Unable to stop yourself, you raise your eyebrows. Something twinges in your chest. An icey, red hot feeling that you despise. 
Nancy must sense that she’s upset you, because she awkwardly clears her throat and snatches her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, fearful she’s crossed a line.
Steve steps away, already back by your side.
“If there’s a spider in Steve’s hair, you’re never gonna find it until it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” Robin suddenly appears, cackling at her own joke. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve hisses at her, patting his head, now slightly paranoid. 
Robin leaves just as suddenly as she arrived, her laughter echoing in the hallway. Steve looks at you, and you merely shrug. “It’s Robin, what can you expect?”
“She’s got problems.” He huffs. When Nancy agrees, Steve jumps at the opportunity to lessen the iciness he feels between you and her. He wishes things were how they used to be, back before feelings complicated everything. “It’s, uh. Cool that you and Robin are friends now.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything, and you busy yourself with running your hands over the expanse of Steve’s back. You do it because you’re worried Nancy may have missed a few cobwebs, though a part of you knows that you also do it to show her that you can. That Steve allows your touch, leans into it. 
“Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world and stuff, maybe we can all go out or something?” Steve knows it’ll never happen, but he still says it anyways. It’s his way of extending friendship to Nancy, proving to her that there aren’t any hard feelings. “A long overdue double date, you know? You, me, Y/N, and Jonathan when he’s back.”
Jonathan’s name slips from Steve’s mouth before he can stop it. He knows he’s made a mistake.
You look away from him, the guilt of remembering Jonathan’s words. His dangerous reminiscing, how you still haven’t told Nancy.
And Nancy looks away because she’s reminded of her problems with Jonathan. The distance that has grown between them. How it feels like they haven’t been on the same page for a long, long time now. 
“I’d-I’d like that.” You finally say, the words bitter.
Nancy nods, her own uncomfortable expression mirroring yours. “Yeah, totally.”
Neither of you sound convincing. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye. You can’t bear to look at Nancy because of the overwhelming guilt. Nancy can’t bear to look at you because you’re Jonathan’s best friend. 
“We can bring Robin on the date!” Steve is desperate to break the tension. He hates it, he hates that Jonathan has created a chasm that he can’t cross. “I’m sure she’d love to join.”
Thankfully Nancy laughs. “Why would she want to third wheel?”
“Who says Robin would be the third wheel?” You say, relieved by the change in topic. “She’d be my date, obviously. Steve would be the third wheel.”
“Obviously.” Steve rolls his eyes, though there’s fondness in his voice that Nancy doesn’t miss. 
You pick the last of the cobwebs off of him. Running your fingers through Steve’s hair one last time for good measure, you poke his cheek. “You’re officially cobweb free, by the way. We should probably get back to searching the house.”
“‘The obvious things are not what people observe,’” He catches your hand as it falls, squeezing it. “Or-’don’t observe’?”
Steve’s cute little frown warms you. He’s trying to impress you, quoting what your brother had only a few minutes ago. You squeeze his hand back, your cheeks warming as you smile up at him. “‘The world is full of obvious things by which nobody by any chance ever observes.’ You were close.”
“Thanks, angel. I would’ve gotten it eventually.”
“You would’ve.” 
The tenderness that Nancy sees in Steve’s eyes burns. The way you’re smiling at him, the softness underneath your voice. She sees the way you squeeze the other’s hand. It makes her ache; she misses holding Jonathan’s hand. 
– 
You stand underneath a chandelier, its lights flickering. The sight is a familiar one. Flickering lights have become a part of your nightmares. 
Max and Lucas had called everyone over to where they were. They’d found the lights that way. 
“It’s the Christmas lights all over again.” You don’t know why you’re whispering, but it feels wrong not to. 
Nancy nods in agreement, but Robin leans forward. “Christmas lights?”
“When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Nancy explains, staring up at the way the chandelier flickers now. 
“It’s how we knew he was alive.” Your chest tightens at the memory. You’ll never forget the dread you felt, realizing that Will was alive, yet trapped somewhere you could never reach. 
Lucas clenches his fist. “Vecna’s here. In this house. Just on the other side.”
Steve grabs your hand, protective. He doesn’t like the idea of Vecna being so close to you. When the lights stop flickering, he pulls you closer to him, on edge. Equally as scared, you turn to Max to make sure she has her headphones nearby. 
“Max, get your headphones on.” You command her, but she doesn’t listen.
“I think Venca just left the room.” Robin announces, looking at the group surrounding her.
Max frowns. “Did he hear us?”
“Can he see us?” Steve asks, hand skimming the walkman that resides in your coat pocket. Your headphones dangle from your neck. He positions himself so that if he needs to, he’ll be able to grab them as fast as possible.
“Headphones.” Lucas echoes your prior command, only this time Max doesn’t hesitate to put them on. He looks at you, too. “Y/N.”
You shake your head at him. Not yet. You’re scared that if you play your music right now, you’ll somehow miss any signs of danger for Max. You can’t be distracted, you can’t risk it. 
“Everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” Nancy orders. There isn’t any time to argue, she recognizes that. You’ve made your choice. 
Steve protests not having any lights on, and you can’t help but agree. The idea of running around the house without any sense of guidance makes you incredibly uneasy. It makes you easy targets.
But no one listens, already spreading out as Nancy told them. Steve groans, knowing you have no choice but to follow along as well. “Jesus Christ.”
“We’ll be fine.” You promise him, but Steve refuses to let go of your hand.
Robin is the first to find Vecna. 
“I got him!” Her flashlight is pointed in the air, illuminating for only a second before the light dies completely. She slowly lowers it, defeated. “I… I had him.”
Then Steve’s flashlight turns on. He holds it away from him, though quickly he realizes that the light is following something. “He’s moving. I-I think he’s moving!”
Steve makes it to the top of the stairs before the light dies once more. He curses in agitation. But before he can complain, your flashlight turns on. 
“He’s back,” you whisper, too afraid to raise your voice. Steve tries to snatch the flashlight from you, he doesn’t want Vecna anywhere near you, but you push him away. “He’s taking us somewhere.”
“Up here,” Max says, pointing towards a door. It’s cracked, faint light seeps through. Shoving it open, she reveals a separate staircase. 
“It’s an attic,” Robin’s voice pitches an octave. “Of course it’s an attic.”
No one says anything as you make your way upstairs. Your light shines brightly, growing stronger and stronger with every step you take. Dustin tries to warn you guys that it could just be a trap, but his protests go ignored. 
He’s probably right, but you’re already cursed and you have nothing to lose. 
When you reach the attic, a single lightbulb hangs from the rafters. It flickers wildly, growing dimmer and stronger in stuttering patterns. Your flashlight begins to mimic the light’s pattern, before everyone else’s flashlights flicker on. 
You all stand around the lightbulb, flashlights now joined together. 
“Okay, what’s happening?” Steve looks around, anxious. 
No one answers him. No one can answer him; but you can. The hair on your arms stands up. Static swirls around you, your body shivers at the sensation. 
You’re standing where Vecna’s standing.
“He’s here.” 
No one asks you how you know this.
A searing pain rips through your head. It’s so sudden, so jarring, that you can’t mask the pained sound you make. Everyone looks at you, terrified that you’re next, before the lights go haywire. The flashlights reach a burning capacity, energy exceeding their limits. One by one, they explode. 
Glass flies everywhere. One piece cuts your cheek. The cut isn’t deep, it’s only a superficial wound, but Steve has your head in his hands before the blood can even begin to drip down your skin. 
The lights go out. Steve tends to you in the dark.
The entire car ride back to Nancy’s, his hand never leaves yours.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)
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steveshairychest · 2 years ago
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Steve hates February 14th.
It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.
It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.
Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.
Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.
Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.
Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.
After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.
Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.
Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.
He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.
A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."
Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "
Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."
"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.
Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."
Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.
Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.
Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"
Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 4 months ago
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If you are still taking Eddie requests- Reader is Eddies long time friend with his other DND buddies and shes helping him ask Krissy to the dance. When they are there and he thinks he should finally be happy something (someone) is missing and someone ( *aheam* dustin *aheam*) lets it slip how much Reader must be faking not feeling good to not see Eddie with another girl cuz shes in love with him
Angst with a happy ending
Request by anon ❤️
❤️
"Okay so remember what we talked about Eddie?" the two of you had been talking and practising this for a few weeks.
Prom was coming up and Eddie wanted to ask Chrissy to go with him. They had built up a friendship much to the shock of everyone at school.
Now you were Eddie's official wingwoman as he prepared to ask Chrissy to the dance.
"Yup, I'm nervous though princess. What if she turns me down? I mean this is Chrissy we are talking about" You swallow down the urge to cry and soothe him.
"You're amazing Eddie, why wouldn't she say yes?" Eddie's beaming smile melts your heart but you feel a sense of dread when Chrissy walks up to Eddie.
Eddie is sweet and charming as he asks Chrissy to go to prom. You wait with baited breath for her answer and hope that she says yes, Eddie would be crushed if she didn't.
She does say yes, of course she does and while there's a part of you that's elated for Eddie, there's a part of you that feels absolutely crushed because you were in love with your best friend and he would never feel the same way.
Maybe there was always a little part of you that held out hope that Eddie would notice you one day but that would never happen now that he was going to prom with Chrissy.
You could picture them going on dates and stuff after and you would hide how you felt about Eddie, bury down your feelings and be happy for him.
Because Eddie deserved all the happiness in the world.
❤️
Before you know it the week passes by quickly and prom is tonight. There's absolutely no way that you are subjecting yourself to the torment of watching Eddie and Chrissy all over each other, so when Eddie shows up at yours two hours before prom starts you fake being sick.
He takes one look at you cuddled up in bed and drops down on his knees beside your bed.
"Hey, aren't you getting ready for prom?" He looks so worried and you shake your head at his question.
"I'm not going to prom Eddie. I've been sick all night so I'm just going to stay in bed and watch crappy films, maybe sleep off whatever this illness is" his face falls and his big brown eyes gaze at you sorrow filled.
"It won't be the same without you sweetheart" He sounds so sad and you can't have that. There was no way he was going to spend prom upset because you weren't there.
"Don't be silly, you'll have the time of your life with Chrissy and when it's over I want to hear all about it okay?" the sadness is still in Eddie's gaze but he offers you a small smile as he gets up.
"You look really handsome Ed's" he does look gorgeous in black jeans, a black shirt and his leather jacket. He's tamed his hair and he's wearing eyeliner, the look is definitely working for him.
"Thanks, princess. I'll visit you tomorrow and tell you everything?" he promises you and as he leaves you finally let the tears that you have been holding back fall down your cheeks.
❤️
Eddie should feel ecstatic that he's at the dance with Chrissy but it feels like there's this empty space inside of his chest. You aren't at the dance, you're missing prom because you're sick and in turn Eddie is missing you.
Quite frankly prom was shit and the minute that Chrissy saw Jason the two of them had been making googly eyes at each other, Eddie could to bring himself to care.
Dustin who somehow managed to sneak into prom with Mike and Lucas frowns, Eddie doesn't know how he did it but the kid is a mini genius so he isn't surprised.
He's already had Harrington in his ear via the walkie talkie Dustin has demanding that Eddie look out for Dustin, Mike and Lucas. Yeah, like no shit. They are his sheeples and he's doing that anyway.
"Why are you so glum dude?" Mike whines as Eddie confiscates the punch mike has. Just in case some asshole has spiked it. He doesn't need three drunk 15 year olds to rein in.
"Duh it's because yn isn't here dumbass" Lucas rolls his eyes at how oblivious Mike is.
"You know she must be faking being sick because it would be hard watching you with Chrissy" Dustin pipes up. Wait what. Eddie stiffens as he wonders what Dustin means, does he mean what Eddie thinks he means?
"What are you talking about Henderson?" He demands and Dustin gapes at him like he's an idiot.
"You seriously don't know? She's in love with you dude" his face falls when Eddie's eyes widen in shock, "On shit. You really didn't know man?"
You were in love with him. You loved him and yet you had helped him ask out Chrissy, picked out his tux for him and we're supportive through all of this.
Shit shit shit.
He has to find you. Find out if Dustin is right and he has a sneaking suspicion that he is.
❤️
Eddie's standing in your room in his tuxedo and looking down at you nervously. At first, you think it's a dream because you've just woken up but when he moves closer to sit on the bed, he almost trips over your cat, Theo.
Okay, definitely not a dream then but what was he doing here? Why wasn't he having the time of his life with Chrissy?
"Uh Eds, proms still going on" Eddie smiles and settles on your bed.
"It was a dud anyway, Chrissy saw Jason and it's like there was no room for anyone else. It's fine though, turns out being with her wasn't like I thought it would be. She's just a friend, not my dream girl or whatever it is you think she is"
This surprises you because you and Eddie had practised asking Chrissy for a while and he seemed like he was crushing on her.
"I mean I did have a crush on her but going to the prom uh, that pretty much killed off any romantic feelings I have for her. I didn't have as much fun as I thought I would because my best friend wasn't there" you rub your eyes sleepily and Eddie's expression flickers with alarm.
"Have you been crying?" Shit. You should have known that Eddie would never miss the signs of you being upset.
"Just allergies" you lie and hope he buys it. He doesn't and sits beside you on the bed.
"Sweetheart don't lie to me. Look, Dustin said something tonight and I have to know if he's right or not. He said you were faking being sick because you're in love with me"
Oh no. This was not happening. This as Dustin said was a code red of epic proportions. Eddie is looking at you expectantly and your stomach churns with anxiety as you know you have to tell him the truth.
"He's right but I know that you don't feel the same and it's fine. I'll just deal with this and everything will be okay and not awkward between us" you say everything in a rush while trying hard not to give into your panic.
"You helped me with Chrissy all this time while being in love with me" his voice is full of shock and you shrug. "I'd do anything for you eds"
There's a tiny moment of silence and then he speaks again, "Dance with me princess" You're confused by his request but take his hand as he plays one of your CDs that you had been playing recently.
Madonna's Crazy for You starts and Eddie makes a face but keeps dancing. You giggle as Eddie twirls you around and holds you close to him for the slow parts.
"This feels so right you know, you being in my arms. I didn't feel like this with Chrissy. Jesus h Christ, It feels like I could be happy forever in this moment" Eddie murmurs and you peer at him, hoping he's saying what you think he's saying.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you ask hopefully and hope that you haven't got this all wrong.
"I'm saying I want to be with you sweetheart, I'm a fool who took an insane amount of time to realise the girl of my dreams is you but I plan to make it up to you, if you give me the chance" he strokes your cheek and you place your hand over his.
"Kiss me" is your answer and Eddie enthusiastically obliges as his lips meet yours. It's an amazing kiss and you pull him closer to deepen it as the music plays in the background.
Not that the two of you noticed anything else, too wrapped up in each other to care.
❤️
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ladykailitha · 6 months ago
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Slipping on my evil author gloves and cracking my knuckles before diving in!
It's post-season 4 (with the canon divergence of Eddie living) and Steve and Eddie are falling in love while they figure out how to destroy Vecna for good.
But there are moments when it's quiet at night Steve will hear someone shouting his name.
"--TEVE!"
But it's always garbled like static over the walkie or shouts underwater. And every time Eddie pulls him close and whispers that it's just a nightmare. No one is calling him, everyone is safe.
They defeat Vecna and Eddie and Steve make plans to leave Hawkins together.
But when Steve arrives a little early at the trailer, he finds that Eddie was just going to slip away without telling him.
Eddie laughs. Tells him that no one wants him around. The kids will get driver's licenses and won't need rides anymore. Robin will run off with Nancy to Emerson and he'll be left all alone. Like he deserves to be.
But as Eddie starts laughing, Steve can hear the yelling again.
"Get the tape out his tape deck in his car!"
Steve is frowning. Who's tape deck?
Eddie notices the little confused frown and mockingly tells him that he was just too dim to notice that everyone secretly hated him.
Suddenly the air is filled with music.
Soldier boy, made of clay Now an empty shell Twenty one, only son But he served us well Bred to kill, not to care Do just as we say Finished here, greetings death He's yours to take away
Eddie's face transforms from mocking to enraged. His body starts shaking and convulsing. There is a strange after image and Steve takes a step back.
Vecna appears and Steve turns around. In the doorway of the trailer is the real Eddie and behind him is Steve's bedroom. He doesn't even look back, he starts running.
His back erupts in pain multiple lines burning all the way down.
****
Eddie walks into the Harrington mansion cautiously. He's never just strolled right in without Steve calling out to him.
But his car is here and none of the kids have heard from in 24 hours and even Robin is freaking out. Steve was supposed to work that morning, but never showed.
Two things that Steve would never do.
He starts searching the house but comes up empty. He's standing in the main hallway rubbing his chin when he hears it. Whimpering.
Eddie storms up the stairs and throws open the bedroom door. Steve is on the bed, complete asleep but clutching the sheets as he tosses and turns.
Eddie grabs the walkie and screams code red! And tells everyone to get their asses to Steve's ASAP.
Everyone who could get there arrives within minutes.
"I can't wake him!" Eddie screams as everyone stumbles into the bedroom.
Everyone tries what they can to wake him, but nothing.
Then El comes bursting through the door. "It's Vecna!"
"Why would Vecna target Steve?" Dustin asks and everyone glares at him. "What? I'm not saying he's not important or whatever, but..." he waves at El, Nancy, and Will. "Like."
Eddie growls and screams. "Get the tape out his tape deck in his car!" He turns to Robin. "Where does he keep his Walkman?"
Robin ran for his top drawer and handed it to him.
Dustin wasn't back yet.
"Dustin!" Robin screams as everyone else watches in silent vigil.
Dustin comes scrambling up the stairs and hands it to Eddie.
"Why is it a Metallica tape?" he says softly.
Eddie jams it into the Walkman and hits play. He places the headphones over Steve's ears and holds his hand as he waits. He was about to say he didn't care what the tape was when the song starts playing. The volume up as loud as it could be.
"Shit."
"Eddie?" El asks, tilting her head to the side.
Eddie and Dustin share a glance of just shattered emotions.
"It's called Disposable Heroes, El," Mike whispers.
Suddenly the air is still and growing stale with each passing moment as they all take in the meaning of that.
Then Steve comes to, gasping and crying. Suddenly he's covered in bodies as they all desperately try to hug him all at once.
Eddie gets close and whispers, "You are loved, Steve Harrington and tell Vecna he made a mistake targeting you. We will come for him with a fierceness like the of a fire storm."
El grins. "Done."
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