#cannot believe i forgot that tag

[pocket-goose]

she gets me she just does

[plasma-studios]

some abridged version of love (x)

The townsfolk leave Nightmare in the woods for the Fae, which is the correct way to deal with a changeling. This is a problem for several reasons:

1) Nightmare is said child and he is not a changeling. 2) Since he is not a changeling, there is no Fae coming to collect him. That means he is being left to die, which is marginally bad.

Perhaps his only hope is the Fae he’s unwittingly drawn the attention of. It’s risky, but really, he was just betrayed by the town he grew up in, so… he has nothing else to lose, why not?

OR: Fae UTMV AU where Fae!Nim adopts the Dreamtale Twins. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Chapter 1: ash, dirt, bone

Nightmare awakes to stinging cold. Which shouldn’t be a difficult problem to solve; at this time, which is surely a late hour, the night air is always chilly. Perhaps there is a window open. 

He knows his room well enough to get to his feet without tripping over his brother, knows his home well enough to locate the window in his room and close it without waking up the rest of his family. However, he is unable to get to his feet. Strange, he thinks to himself. 

He tries to twist, but he only makes it through half of the turn. The blanket must be caught on something, perhaps the edge of the bedframe? He tries to reach out to untangle it, but even that small movement is impossible.

Still, he does not panic. Sleep is only a blink away, though his eyes are still closed. The fatigue is there, smoothing over the edge of any panic that might have otherwise taken root.

It is only when he realises there’s something stuffed in his mouth that he thinks to open his eyes. And when the stinging glare of something much too bright forces him to blink away both the light and the sleep away, he finds the cloth in his mouth is rough. 

Fire, he thinks. A flaming torch. Firelight streaks across the sky turned dark with the late hour; he cannot find the moon, but it must be somewhere above him, because the silver light catching on details around him is what allows his jolted mind to piece it together. 

He strains his neck to look down and sees his wrists and ankles tied with thick rope. The kind of rope he’s seen the butcher use to tie up pigs and sheep before the slaughter. Has he been abducted? He strains to make a noise, one that might alert his family—

Someone’s hand clamps over his mouth. Whatever sound he managed has already been drowned out by the crackling of the fire. He tries to twist away, but there is a huff, and he does not even make half the turn. Panic blooms quickly. He thrashes against the rope, but by the end he is gasping into the cloth, and he is still bound. If not by rope, then by hands, as he is carried none too gently to a place he can only assume spells his doom.

The cloth is bitter with dirt and sweat.

“Stop struggling,” Someone hisses into his ear. He stills. No. No, surely not. He fights to catch a glimpse, as if he is a starving animal faced with food, his breath hitching against the gag. 

The speaker’s breath still warms his earlobe. But they draw back too slowly, and Nightmare had already seen.

That was the voice of his father. And this is his face.

What are you doing? His voice is lost into the cloth. Father?

Already there is the sour ache of muscle tensed too long. But his body has also gone limp. 

“God, it’s so heavy. You should’ve done this sooner.”

That's the voice of their neighbour. The seamstress, he recalls. The one who laughs too loudly after returning from the tavern; voice slurred by cheap ale.

“Not soon enough,” Someone grumbles. The baker’s son. Nightmare knows his face, and his voice. He’s the one that always loiters by the well, complaining about the weight of the pails and the muddiness of the water. 

Nightmare lets out a soft breath. Only he hears it. 

“We didn’t know,” His father mutters some short distance away. “We were only told recently.”

He hears a sneer, or perhaps a scoff. But there is nothing else. There is nothing else for what feels like hours in the dark, save for the moonlight and torch, nothing that he could glean answers from, nothing that helps him make sense of the fact that he’s been bound and gagged. 

There is nothing, when he is suddenly thrown onto the ground. Nothing when he winces at the pressure of a thousand hands and arms pressing down on him, nothing when he feels the ropes shift, nothing when they start whispering, finally, but the whispers merge into some soundless mess he makes no more sense of. 

Nothing when they finally withdraw, and he realises he has been bound to a tree. 

Nothing when he looks up, and realises his father is staring at him. Nothing when he spits in his face.

Sometime in the acrid night, he has begun to cry. “Do we leave him like this?” The voice is gentle. Softer than the others, without any note of accusation.

This is the voice of his mother.

There are more words spoken by more people, but he hears nothing.

He hears her ask something. Plead for something.

Nightmare’s breath hitches. His vision is blurred at the edges, but he strains to find her. To just find her face, in the crowd half-lit by firelight. 

Is she pleading for him?

His mother steps forward hesitantly, her hands wringing the edges of her shawl. He has found her. Her voice quivers as she speaks again. “Just once. Please.”

The silence that follows is swallowing. The only sound there is, is the crackling of the flames and the rustle of the trees. Perhaps, in this silence, they may be hearing him cry. Her hands tremble as she reaches out. The rough cloth falls from his mouth, and Nightmare gasps, choking on the sudden rush of cold air.

“Mother,” He rasps. His throat burns with the effort, but he forces the word out again. “Mother, please.”

She looks so sorrowful, her eyes glistening with tears. “Oh, sweet child.” But she does not move closer. 

“Mother, what’s happening?” He pleads.

She does not answer. Her hand is on his cheek. 

“He looks so scared.” 

Nightmare is scared. He opens his mouth again, and begs her. “Mother?”

“Don't let it trick you, Lydia.” The man, unrecognisably his father, scowls. “This has gone on for long enough. Let's go.”

“And they'll return him? Our boy?”

But he's right here. What do they want returned? Why have they tied him up?

“Yeah.” Some rustle from beyond the trees. “Return the changeling to the Fae, and they return the child. That's how it's always been.”

It feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. There is no air for him to breathe in.

They think he's a changeling.

“Will you? If we return you, will you return him?” She speaks so, so mournfully.

“I'm not a changeling.” His voice is raw and broken. “Mother? Mother, please.��� She was pleading for him, even if she had been part of the company dragging him out, she was still his mother. “Please don't leave me here! I'll be good, I promise. Just let me go home.”

For a fraction of a second, he sees something shift. His mother lets out a breath. Her face contorts. Her hand flies to him; she strikes him.

“Stop trying to trick me! I don't need you! I don't want you!” 

Is this his mother? Is this the woman that stayed up all night to nurse him when he was ill? The woman that carefully braided his hair when any other’s hand would be so rough he'd sooner cut everything off than allow them to continue? 

“You made our lives a living hell!”

Nightmare doesn't understand. Is this because he spat out the food two fortnights ago? But the texture had been so slimy, so foreign. If he'd choked it down, would he still be sleeping soundly at home? 

He makes a sound like a wounded animal. 

He could feel the world slipping sideways, tilting further out of his control. Too many sounds— branches snapping underfoot, whispered mutters from the others, his own ragged breaths. All of it scratching at his ears, scraping along his brain like nails on glass.

Her face crumples, but she doesn’t step closer. “Say it,” She whispers. Her voice is soft. “Admit what you are.”

“Admit it?” He is shaking. “I’m— Mother, I’m Nightmare. I’m your son!”

Her eyes glisten with tears, and for a moment, it seems as though she might reach for him. But then her gaze hardens, and she looks away.

She is walking away from.him.

“Do we just leave it?”

She is no longer talking to him.

It.  

“Mother!” He shouts, voice tearing from his throat like an animal’s cry. “Mother, don’t let them leave me! Please, Mother! Please!”

He knows what happens to those left in the woods. He knows he is being left to die.

She doesn't move. Her hands clenches into fists, and her gaze drops to the ground. 

“Mother,” He tries again. But she doesn’t turn back. And then, one by one, they leave him.

“No!” He shouts. He's twisting and thrashing against the rope; but it's so tight it's choking him. “You can’t do this! Mother, please! Please!”

She doesn't come back. None of them do. The footsteps streak further and further away. 

He forces himself to stop crying. The effort makes his chest ache, but he can’t afford to attract attention. Not now. Not here. 

The trees seem taller. Their branches twist up, up, up into the sky, too far for him to trace with his eyes; he swears the wind carries past him faint whispers, rustles that don’t belong to the leaves. It prickles at the back of his neck. It is as if something is watching him.

He needs to get out of these ropes. He’s seen enough to know he’s as good as dead if he stays put. 

Even if nothing comes for him, he is still going to starve. 

He shifts, to test the ropes again. They’re so tight that the tension burns against his skin, but he doesn’t care. His fingers fumble for any give he can find. 

There must be wild things in the area. He does not want to be there when some wolf decides to take a chunk out of his throat. He does not want to be there when some crow decides to peck his eyes out. 

A wolf’s sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. The cold, black eyes of a crow.

His panic bleeds into resolve. 

The ropes won’t loosen, but he twists his wrists harder, ignoring the sting, ignoring the metallic taste in his mouth of a bitten tongue; everything aches, but he forces his fingers to stop trembling.

A soft snap. He feels it, more than hears it. He’s broken something in his wrist. Otherwise, it would be impossible for his arm to tumble free; impossible to twist his wrist this far, at an angle that tells him he won’t be able to use it to write anymore. 

A branch snaps.

He freezes completely. Slowly, as if it a dream or a nightmare, he looks down to find the broken twig crushed underfoot. 

Something is rustling. He tries to trace the source, but he curses himself when he finds nothing. He can’t see anything beyond the tangled shadows of the trees.

The rustling is so near. His heart leaps into his throat.

He swallows hard. Don’t panic. Keep quiet. Think. Pull. Scrape. Twist. Repeat. His breath steadies, his mind quieting as he works. 

He presses his back against the tree he’s tied to. His breath is so, so shallow. A soft rustle, too deliberate to be the wind.

There it is again. Closer this time. Something is out there, watching him.

They left me. They left me to this.

Another snap— a crunch, leaves and twigs. Whatever it is, it’s big. Bigger than a wolf, bigger than a crow.

It might be a Fae.

Nightmare presses his lips together. He folds in, pushing himself as much as he can backwards, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe it won’t notice he’s here.

The sound stops.

And then, from somewhere just beyond the clearing. 

“Oh, child.” 

The voice… echoes. But there’s no one near him. He cranes his neck, he does not recognise the voice but that means they were not among the people who just sent him to his death. 

It means this person might be of help.

“Poor thing.”

It seems to come from everywhere at once. But that’s not possible. He turns right, turns left, but he sees no one in the small radius of sight the moonlight allows him. 

His breath catches.

Slowly, he looks up.

The branches are twisting. It must be the wind, rustling the leaves— but he’s sure, now. That voice had come from up there. Was there someone hiding in the leaves? He cranes his neck, tries to catch as much as he can; twisting branches, serrated edges, and the deep yawning void—

There is something. A shape of some sort. Too dense of a shadow, fluid as if ink spilling through water.

“Poor thing,” The voice whispers again. Unmistakably above him. 

His knees threaten to buckle as his eyes adjust. The shape resolves, bit by bit: spindly limbs extending outward, not like arms but more like roots, like skeletal branches twisting into something inhuman. A head tilts at an unnatural angle, almost curious, face veiled by shifting night.

The bark has split. 

Out of the gaping void, the thing leans in.

“Poor, poor thing,” It croons, and a hand— if it can be called that— reaches down, its fingers impossibly long and thin, brushing the edge of his shadow.

The shadow clinging to the thing peels away just enough, to reveal a face. Pools of light where the eyes should be, a cross between verdant green and moonlit water. And in each ‘eye’, a faint golden ring. 

He flinches backwards. But there’s nowhere to go.

The thing’s skin glows a faint, opalescent green; the rare translucent spots of skin reveal delicate pulsing veins of gold. There are flowers tangled in every inch of it, most blooming high above in some crown made of twisted branches, and he swears he longer he stares at it the more he catches: the thorns tilting upwards drip with sap, the drops of dew look more jewel than water, and when it smiles, it reveals ivory teeth.

“Why do you tremble, little one?” 

Its voice is soft, threaded with some alien melody. It draws closer, dragging behind flowers blooming and decaying in the same breath.

It tilts its head. The golden rings narrow.

Nightmare lets out a quiet breath. He steadies himself. This is a Fae, if he’s ever seen one. So he has to convince it to help him. 

“Left behind by the other humans to die. Such a shame.” Its voice drips with something dangerously close to pity, or mocking. “You seem quite astute. It would be a waste to leave you, no?”

He feels the compliment latch onto him, and quickly discards it. This is a trap. Everyone knows it’s better to die than end up in the hands of the Fae. His mind races. He has to say something. Ignoring a Fae has been branded as rude in more than one instance, and he very much does not want to be cursed. 

That would be very, very bad.

“You are here?” He twists it into a question to buy time. 

If he asks for help outright, he’s sure the Fae will twist the offer into something terrible. 

A soft titter. “Why can’t I be here? This is my home. You?” Its lips curl into a faint smile. “You are the guest here.”

He swallows. He thinks, thoughts tumbling over themselves in the tussle to find the right words. The safe words. Ignoring it isn’t an option, and he knows better than to stammer out an apology that reeks of his own stupid fear. 

Nightmare opens his mouth.

“Why are you here with me?”

The faint pulse of gold beneath its skin draws his eye despite himself. 

“Your family. Your blood. My, even I would never abandon my young. And yet humans prove they are more cruel than any Fae once more. And here you are, clinging onto life, much too stubborn to die.”

Maybe I wasn’t their blood. The thought is like a splinter under his skin. If he were a changeling, would he even know? Maybe they were right to leave him. 

“You want something from me.” It isn’t a question. And the laugh that leaves the creature is not refuting it. Perhaps there is no answer, because it wasn’t a question. He already knows what it wants, what all the Fae want in each and every story. His True Name.

“My blood,” He repeats. He does not know if this is to distract it, or himself. “Were they my blood?”

Its smile does not crack open. “What are you asking, child?”

“Am I a changeling?”

It tilts its head, the movement slow and deliberate.

“A changeling?” Its voice lilts as it weighs the word. “Is that your fear, little one? That you are not as human as you believe?”

Its eyes— again, pools of verdant light, dig into him. He swallows the discomfort of feeling so very exposed.

“Perhaps.” It hums. His stomach drops. “But perhaps not. They left you all the same. They saw something in you they could not love, could not keep. That is true inhumanity, no? There is no answer I could give you that would change things. Fae cannot lie, dearest.”

Nightmare feels the exact moment his nerves have been struck. Why do Fae talk in circles? Is it that hard to give a yes or no?

“Am I not a changeling?” He tries again.

“Hm. What they did was wrong.”

He is about to interject when she leans in, and he suddenly realises he cannot move an inch. 

He looks down, and swallows a scream. The ropes are buried under vines slithered up from the earth, tangled tighter than the human knots, and even if he breaks his other arm there’s no way he’ll be able to sneak out of the tightening vines. 

“Come now,” It croons, voice soft, deceptively warm. “Let me look at you. Let me see if you are mine.”

He can’t feel his legs. Oh, god. He can’t even see his legs. There is moss, spread across where his legs should be, as thick as a second skin, damp and shapeless. He watches, horrified, as small shoots push through the fabric of his clothes. 

Arms wrap around him. He stills even more. 

The rich smell of earth fills the air. He smells wildflowers, too.

“Shh,” It murmurs softly into his ear. He hates that it soothes the seed of panic in his stomach.

He forces his gaze back up to it. 

“What are you doing to me?” His voice is hoarse with fear.

“Dearest. You were fidgeting so much, how could I look at you properly? There you are.”

This is no different than the ropes. This is worse than the ropes. He bites back a retort, still not keen on a curse.

“Why won’t you give me a straight answer?” This is risky. He does not like to take risks. But he is not disemboweled immediately, so his fear takes a backseat.

It makes a soft noise.

“No. You were never a changeling.”

The vines are digging into his ribs. Nightmare winces.

“Did that help?”

“Yes.” He hisses in pain. “No.”

“You should not lie to the Fae.” Its smile is not kind. “But I shall forgive you for the transgression. What I wonder,” It murmurs, leaning in closer, “Is what you want of me.”

His breath catches. He starts, but she cuts him off. “Don’t deny it. Is it vengeance? I would not fault you for it. It would be very well-deserved.”

Vengeance. The word echoes in his head for a few moments, and he wants so badly to make them pay. But he tastes ash in his mouth. He is so tired.

“I want to go back home.” The moment he says it, it feels wrong. He does want to go home, but the house he grew up in no longer feels like a place he can return to. There is nowhere safe for him in town. Nowhere he is safe.

His voice is so, so small.

“I just want to live.” 

For a moment, the forest holds its breath, and the only sound is the faint rustle of leaves,

“To live,” It echoes. “Such a simple desire.”

The vines loosen slightly, though they do not release him. Not yet.

It studies him.

“You wish to live,” It says, more softly this time. “Then tell me, little one. What are you willing to give for such a wish?”

It is not actually a question. There is only one thing he can give.

For an instant, he considers refusing. Considers being left to die, just as he was meant to. He considers many things. Perhaps he would be better dead, if there is no place he can be safe without giving up his True Name. If this was the price of survival, if this was what it took to live, then maybe there was no life worth having.

There is nothing left for him. Perhaps it would be better to die.

But then he thinks of Dream. Still sleeping, he hopes, in their room. He refuses to believe he knew of the plot to leave him in the forest. They told each other everything, and Dream could never keep a secret.

There’s no way in hell he’s leaving Dream to them. There’s no way he’s leaving Dream there to rot. There’s no way he’s just going to let himself die and leave him to the wolves.

A single breath, then another.

“Nightmare.” The Name drops from his mouth like a stone.

A beat of silence. Then, the wind picks up.

“Nightmare,” She echoes. She tests the name once, then twice. 

A soft crack splits the soil beneath his feet, and in the blink of an eye, the ground gives way.

He jerks away and gasps as cold, slick fistfuls of soil coil around his ankles; before he blinks a second time inches of him have already been swallowed. He has no time to ponder if he’s just made a terrible, terrible mistake. 

“Don’t fight it, Nightmare. You’ll only hurt yourself more.” 

As he cries out he finds he cannot move even as he’s being consumed by the earth. Her voice comes to him as a soft caress. He shudders, despite himself, and his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

Something is stirring in him. 

He feels something pulling at him, something seeping into him. His head feels very, very delicate, and he does not remember closing his eyes, and he does not quite dislike the soft haziness of it all. It tingles, but only slightly, and everything is dulled over for him. Made softer, made gentler.

“You were never a changeling.” Her voice, wind in the leaves. “But I always wanted a child. This is good for us both, see?”

Then, he understands. 

Oh. He breathes. So that’s how it is.

[p-ogman]

Bro you do not have to nyah ^w^ everytime u see ur bodyguard

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 07: free space a happy ending

Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 

But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 

“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 

Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 

It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 

“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.

The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 

But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 

Remembering the words. 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 

Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 

His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 

It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 

Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 

"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."

He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 

Everything. You're everything. 

He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 

"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."

You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 

Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 

"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."

When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 

He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 

The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 

"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 

"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."

"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 

"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 

They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 

Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 

I love you. 

~*~

It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 

It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 

And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 

Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 

Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 

~*~

Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 

Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 

Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 

"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."

Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 

And so they do. 

Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 

Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."

There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 

You know, I always figured it would be you. 

No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.

It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 

"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 

"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 

"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 

And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 

"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 

"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 

When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 

~*~

It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 

It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.

It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 

"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.

"Yeah, baby?" 

Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.

"I love you." 

"Hmm. I love you more." 

No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 

He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 

And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 

It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 

And there are many, many more after this one.

🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13

god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay

[thlassicalamity]

bingge fanart i did a little while back... was thinking about how dehumanizing the iac + the endless abyss + xin mo + also honestly much of his life would've been for bingge like. zamn! yeah i can see why this guy turned out like that

[lockedoore]

Adaine Abernant, the oracle of my HEART. i love her and her hair of indeterminant length

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Strawberries and Cream

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Word count: 5.9k

Masterlist

Notes: *me peeing while figuring out what to name this chapter* *sees a bottle that says planets* Niceeeee. I need you to know, that while editing this, I am LITERALLY ON MY LAPTOP SETTING THE QUEUEUEUE button (I cant spell that) I added one sentence. and I promise you when you read this you're gonna know and just hear my evil laughter

Episode 4: Fast Cars and Faster Planets

“What do mean you guys had a steamy ass make out sesh and immediately said “oh we’re totally friends” Buck is practically pulling his hair out as Eddie tells him what happened after you guys left the party 

“Because we are friends Buck,” He tells him like it’s the simplest thing in the world, but Buck is ready to slam his head into the wall 

“Friends don’t have make-out sessions!!!” Buck yells at him. Eddie glares at him to lower his voice and Buck rolls his eyes

“Okay but didn’t we- “ 

“That was one time!” Buck stops him, putting his hands over his mouth 

“And we agreed to never talk about that again! In a bro way, not a “we were embarrassed to do that” way” 

Eddie pushes his hands away and sighs “So  why is it any different?” 

“Because. You are both. Clearly. Into each other.” Buck punctuates every sentence with a clap 

“Okay so fine! I’m done talking about this! I told you what happened there. Done” Eddie throws his hands in the air and gets up from his seat, storming downstairs. Buck slides his hand down his face, rolling his eyes to the freakin heavens, and follows after him 

“Eddie- fuck okay fine. I’m sorry. I’m being pushy” He says as he reaches out for him. He pats his shoulder and gives it a squeeze 

“No… I’m just. Being sensitive I guess. You’re right Buck, I do really like her… I’m just not ready to tell her that and she doesn’t seem ready to tell me that either, but I think she knows how I feel. And there’s still the question of "If she even does like me back.” 

Buck’s hand covers his mouth, he stops for a moment. He’s gotta be there for his friend he’s gotta be supportive and loving, his friend is feeling vulnerable. 

“I love you Eddie, thank you for feeling like you can come to me. But that’s the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever said to me and I desperately want to kick your ass” 

Nailed it. 

“What- what how! How-“ Eddie is spluttering and Buck just shakes his head, and walks away, giving him both fingers. 

“What did you say to him?” Hen asks as she walks by, Eddie throws his hands in the air again 

“I don’t know!! All I said was I didn’t know if Y/N liked me back” 

“After you told me that you guys made out half naked in the front seat of the fucking car And had that weird “friends” moment!!!” Buck yells across the station and Hen's mouth drops open, as does Chimney’s … and Bobby’s and that one probie Eddie can never remember the name of

“You did what?!?!” Chimney yells down from the stairs and Buck slaps his hands over his mouth, giggling 

“Oh my god Eddie I’m so sorry”

“Hold up-I’m so- what?!?” Hen's mouth is wide open

“Jesus fucking-“ Eddie runs his hands through his hair, glaring at Buck, who’s having a giggle fit as he jogs back over.

Chimney and Bobby both come over too and Eddie feels like he’s been caught by his parents sneaking his girlfriend into the house 

“I’m literally going to end your life” He points at Buck

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to blurt it out” 

“Did you guys only make out?” Hen asks 

“I’m pretty sure Eddie would tell us if they had sex” Chim defends him 

“Did you use protection?” Bobby looks like he’s gonna have a heart attack. They’re all talking at once and Eddie looks like he’s about to strangle Buck 

“Oh my god no! God they just made out that’s it! I'm totally over exaggerating” Buck tries to backpedal as best he can, Hen looks at him skeptically 

“You were pretty clear with what you said, it didn’t seem all…Buckified”

“First of all, hurtful. Second of all. Come on! Let’s just you know, leave him alone!” 

“You think she’s told Maddie by now?” Bobby asks Chimney 

“I’m literally texting her right now,” He says, looking down at his phone 

“Okay come on- really! No! Bobby?!” Eddie gestures wildly and Buck tries to snatch Chimney’s phone 

“Guys we should respect Eddie! We don’t need to know his personal-“ he’s trying to rein this entire thing back in but there’s no corralling this circus. Bobby would know, he’s been trying for years and it's never worked.

“Oh my god, they were at the beach under the stars!!” Chimney coos and Hen shakes Eddie’s shoulders 

“That’s our boy!”

“We’re so proud of you” Bobby pats his back and Eddie looks up, trying to figure out which rafter to hang himself and Buck from. 

“Seriously I’m sorry about Buck and Maddie… maybe I shouldn’t have told them”

“Eh I gave em hell already” Eddie chuckles “Besides, you have a right to talk to your cousins… even if one of them is the biggest blabbermouth I’ve ever met in my entire life”

You giggle and shake your head “As long as you’re not mad…”

“Of course I’m not mad sweet girl. I’ll talk to you later, I’m gonna be driving” You can hear the smile in his voice 

“Just put me on speaker, safety schmaftey” You joke and he snickers before biting his lip 

“So, I’ll come pick you up later tonight okay? We’ll go to the drive-in and then go back to that diner”

“Sounds good to me,” You say, your voice sweet and sappy. Maddie fake gags and you throw a pillow at her

“Alright… sounds good..” he says, but he doesn’t hang up and neither do you. You listen to him get in the truck and you both laugh lightly 

“You’re supposed to hang up you know” He teases, his cheeks blushing. 

“Yeah and so are you” You giggle, Maddie groans loudly 

“Oh god don’t you two dare do this. I will hang up on both of your asses for you” 

You both laugh and Eddie shakes his head “Bye sweet girl, I’ll talk to you later” 

“Bye Eddie” You roll your eyes at the nickname, your cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. He hangs up and you set your phone down on your stomach before covering your face with your hands, squealing and kicking.

“What did he say that’s got you like that?” Maddie asks, looking over at you as she eats her chocolate-covered popcorn 

“He called me “sweet girl” twice” you squeal all over again, literally rolling off the couch. Maddie laughs at you and sits forward 

“Oh god Y/N are you okay?” She’s giggling with you and you sit up, using the coffee table to get up off the floor

“We’re going to the drive-in! Oh god a drive-in that’s so freaking cool”

“And romantic” Maddie adds, a teasing look on her face 

“Oh shut up it’s not that romantic… probably”

“It’s super romantic!” She says, “And we need to get you something cute to wear”

“It’s not a date Maddie!” Your cheeks flush but… you want to dress up nice for Eddie admittedly and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to in forever… it doesn’t even have to be something frilly or overly dressy. Just something that made you feel sexy when he looked at you 

“Fine, we can go shopping” You sigh, giving in. 

“Let’s visionboard this, maybe we can just shop for one or two pieces” She grabs her iPad and pulls up a blanket document, casting it to the TV and you roll your eyes, coming to sit on the couch with her. She starts a Pinterest board and invites you to it

“Okay, so drive-in vibes. I’m thinking something jean, maybe a leather jacket?”

You spend the next half hour with her, going through Pinterest and putting together a little collage of the outfit you’re looking for. You’re going to borrow her Doc Martens and get a new pair of jeans shorts. You’re both undecided on the top and after going back and forth for another 10 minutes she finally gets up from the couch and goes digging in her closet. She’s way too pregnant for this but there’s no way you can stop her. She pulls out an old KISS t-shirt. The sleeves are rolled and it’s oversized. 

“This is perfect. We tuck it in? Buy you some fishnets? And maybe a thong”

She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and you throw a pillow at her 

“I’m not wearing a thong!”

You and Maddie are getting ready to leave when she gets called into work for a couple of hours. She begrudgingly leaves you at her place, promising to be home as soon as she can and you can help yourself to anything in the fridge

“I promise we’ll have time to go shopping! Even if we have to go with Buck! You’re gonna look cute”

“Where are we going?” Buck’s standing in the doorway, one shoe still hanging from his foot 

“Eddie and Y/N are going to the drive-in and we’re getting her a new outfit” She kisses you both on your cheek and says her goodbyes. 

“You and Eddie are finally going on a date?” He asks as he closes the door behind Maddie and comes into the house 

“Oh my god for the last time, it’s not a date! Eddie asked me if I wanted to go see The Mummy at the drive-in and I said yes! And then we’re going to the diner”

“Oh my god. Oh. My. God. You are literally describing a date!“ 

“I’m describing a cool and laid-back hang-out with a friend!!” 

“I swear to god if you and Eddie say you’re friends one more time I’m gonna lose my shit” 

“We are!!” 

“Oh, that is it!!” 

Buck tackles you over onto the couch and starts throwing a flurry of tiny punches. You’re laughing hysterically as he tickles your sides and pretends to slap you silly. He shakes your shoulders and you squeal, trying to shove him off of you 

“Alright alright!! Enough” you wheeze, falling over onto the floor. He slaps your butt one last time and throws a pillow at you 

“Just date already!!!”

The call comes to Buck first, and he’s out the door before they even hang up. He pulls you out with him to the car and you rush to get in

“What’s going on??” You ask, your voice panicked 

“Eddie called I can barely understand him, he sent me his location. Call Maddie for me?” 

Your phone is already ringing “Maddie?? What’s happening?”

There was a seven-car pile-up on the highway apparently and Eddie called it in with what clarity he had before he hung up and called Buck for help. 

“Bobby’s gonna have his ass for calling me” He laughs nervously, his hands shaking as he drives. He’s not being careful in the least.

“Buck that was-“ He speeds through the red light, he’s not even paying attention at this point. Just rambling now

“He knows he’s not supposed to call me! I’m off duty! He knows I would come get him, no matter what. I’ll always come get him I’ll always come save him. Like he does for me? You know-“

You put your hand on his shoulder and scoot closer to him “Hey, hey calm down. You’re not driving safe okay? And we can’t get to Eddie if you’re not being safe. It’s gonna be okay.”

Buck slows down marginally but stops running through red lights. His hands flex on the steering wheel nervously and you smile softly, rubbing his arm trying to soothe him. 

The scene is… less than ideal, Buck gets you two past the checkpoints and you run up to the officers on the scene, they’re delegating and everyone who can be is being moved. But you hear that something is leaking and they’re not sure what. They know it’s leaking from the truck that got hit and skidded a couple hundred or so yards from the rest of the pileup but that’s about it…The man is responding on his radio when people begin frantically yelling and running away. 

The explosion knocks you backward from the way it shakes the ground, the pile of cars shakes and groans and the fire is heading towards them fast. Efforts are tripled to get people out of the cars but it’s not enough. 

“I have to help them, promise me you’ll stay right here, please. I’m begging you, tell me you’ll stay right here” 

“I’ll stay,” you tell him reluctantly but quickly 

“ I’ll stay here, you go help”

Buck kisses your head before he runs off and you’re just left there, standing next to a man barking orders into a radio and all you can do is watch. 

Buck is helping people and you can see he’s struggling to not look for Eddie but Eddie would agree their lives come first. You’re helping people get settled on the sidelines now, helping them sit down and giving them bottles of water while they wait for the paramedics to come to check them out. 

You’re giving a mother an extra bottle for her kid when you hear someone yelling fire, the cars are starting to catch fire. Adrenaline shoots through you as look towards the pile-up, Buck is bringing an older woman to the side when he looks at you. You’ve got the same look in your eyes that he gets, that Maddie gets. 

Buck tries his best to hold you back, his arms firmly around your waist as he catches you before you can run. 

“No! You can’t! You know you can’t you have to stop!”

“But he’s in there “ you sob, trying to fight your way out of his arms 

“They’ll get him Y/N I promise. I’ll get him my damn self if I have to!” 

You fall to the ground, and Buck collapses with you and holds you against him. He’s rocking the two of you. There’s no time for this but he knows you. And he knows how you feel about Eddie… 

“It’s gonna be okay, it’s okay” he repeats to the both of you, he’s shaking just as hard as you are as you both watch the pile-up of cars not even knowing where Eddie’s is. Buck waits until you’ve calmed down a little and lets you go before he goes running back into the danger zone, things are moving faster but it’s just not enough.

“Fuck this!” You yell as you go running past the barricades, past the cops screaming at you to stop, the first car you come up to is empty, and so are the next three. Two people are working to get one woman out and another three working on helping a family out. You run around the pile and Buck is standing there dragging a man away 

“Are you shitting- Y/N what are you doing?!” Buck yells at you, still dragging the man. You grab his feet and pick them up, it makes the work faster and you get him to the sidelines where the paramedics take him 

“No absolutely fucking not, no. Do you know what “no” means?!?” Buck immediately starts yelling at you and you shove him back toward the crash

“No one is gonna get saved if you keep yelling at me! Yell at me later!” 

“Oh I'm gonna kill you, I'm so gonna kill you. I’m gonna kill you so hard you’ll-“

“Buck?!”

Both you and Buck freeze, he stops yelling at you and you look toward the pile 

“Eddie?!” You both yell in unison running towards a shiny blue truck. Eddie is upside down, his head bleeding, his arms cut up. You both go racing towards the truck, Buck laughs through his tears as he carefully opens the front door. The truck creeks and all of you stop moving

“She has to come in Buck, she’s the only one small enough” his voice is so tired, you can tell he’s fading fast “I gotta admit, not even sure why the hell she’s over here in the first place” 

“Be careful” Buck warns you as you get down on your knees, Buck tosses you his coat from the back seat of the truck and you put it over the glass, crawling in.

“Because she’s a Buckley. We’re stubborn as hell” 

You crawl into the space, it’s a tight fit but Buck wouldn’t have been able to at all. “Hey handsome, hang out here often?” You ask as you start to work on getting him out of the seat

Eddie chuckles lightly but groans “God don’t make me laugh, it hurts. It’s getting pretty hot… fire coming over here?” 

“You bet it is,” Buck says, helping to maneuver Eddie. They shouldn’t be moving him, they don’t know the extent of his injuries but he could die either way 

“You, you look so good. Is that what you were going to wear today?” Eddie asks you, his eyes closing slowly 

“Hey, hey stay with me,” you say calmly, although the way your heart is pounding and your hands are shaking kind of gives way the panic “I was going to change, this is kind of just my lounging outfit” 

“Goddamn if that’s your lounging outfit you need to sleep over more often” He chuckles breathlessly, his eyes closing. "God I love you"

You don't hear it.

“Eddie?? Eddie?!” You pat his cheek lightly and he doesn’t respond 

“Buck?!” Your voice is high-pitched and panicky 

“Keep it together Y/N we got this c’mon you need to focus” 

You take a deep breath and still for a second, he’s right. There’s no time for panic in this situation. You wait for Buck’s count and cut the strap of the seatbelt, he catches Eddie and pulls him from the wreckage. He isn’t making a noise as you grab his feet and bring him away. A couple of paramedics run over getting him onto a spinal board. Buck forces you to go with him, promising he’ll be safe and that nothing is gonna happen to him. He shuts the doors to the ambulance and you’re off to the hospital. 

“Mrs. Diaz?” 

You’re stirred awake by the Doctor gently shaking your shoulder. His voice is deep and honeyed. He’s a good-looking man, a delicious-looking man. His name tag, Dr. Pascal, has a cute little green animal sticker on it. 

You’d been directed to a waiting room while they assessed Eddie yesterday. The nurse wasn’t going to bring you back to the family room until you turned on the waterworks, sobbing about the condition of your “husband”

“H-he was on his way h-home for our first-anniversary dinner. He accidentally left his ring at home today too!” you cry into a small handful of tissues. She rubs your back, shushing you and helping you into a chair. She sits with you for a little bit, consoling you and honestly, you do feel a little bad but god this is an award-winning performance. 

There’s a little commotion outside of the room before Buck appears 

“Oh baby girl,” he says softly as you rush into his arms 

“Her brother” he mumbles to the nurse, shaking her hand. He hugs you tightly, rubbing your back as he quiets your crying 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay kiddo. No matter what you’re here for him and that’s all that matters. Can we go back soon?” He looks to the nurse 

“I’m not sure, I’ll have the doctor come get you when it’s okay. I hope everything turns out sweetie”

“Thank you” you sniffle into Buck’s shirt 

The wife bit might be a bit much and you’re a bit shy to even tell Eddie… but it’s kinda cute to be Mrs. Diaz right now, it makes you feel all giddy and sappy inside. 

Buck called Bobby, letting him know what happened so he’d spread the word. He sits on the couch with you, putting his feet up on the small coffee table in front of him. 

“You doin' okay?” He asks quietly and you shrug 

“Are you?… he’s your best friend” You lean into him, your head on his chest. He puts his arm around you and lays his cheek on top of your head

“I’m not worried. He’s the strongest, coolest, guy I know. Cool guys don’t die” 

His voice cuts out a little at the end and you hug him tighter “He’s not gonna die Buck. He just needs some rest”

Your voice is soft and warm but firm and you feel him sag into your arms. You and Buck sit together for hours, there’s not much of a change. Eventually, Bobby comes in, using his status, and finds you two asleep. He ruffles Buck’s hair and smiles at you. Buck stirs a little and wakes up 

“Hey Cap”

“Hey son”

“Anyone else here?” Buck scoots you both over and Bobby sits next to him, putting his arm over Buck’s shoulders 

“Nah, told em to stay home, that I’d handle everything. Which by the way, I’ll handle everything”

Buck smiles a little and nods, he leans back into Bobby and closes his eyes again 

“Thanks, Dad”

 You greet the doctor with a small, nervous smile, little tears appearing in your eyes again. 

“You can see him now, he’s still asleep but he should be waking up soon. His body just needs time”

He leads you back to Eddie’s room, his arm around your waist for support. You look like you’re about to pass out yourself and he’s worried. He helps you into a chair next to Eddie’s bed and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, promising to come check on you two soon. 

“I’ll go get your brother”

Eddie wakes up to the annoying beeping of the machines around him. He blinks softly, cringing at the bright lights above him. He goes to raise his hand over his eyes, but stops short, hissing in pain. The lights are lowered and he feels soft hands on his arm, easing it back into place. 

“Careful…you dislocated your shoulder” 

Buck is in the cafeteria getting you two something to eat when Eddie’s eyes flutter open. 

You’re at his bedside, pulling the covers back up over his chest. He reaches out for you anyway, wincing and you take his hand in yours

“Quit moving so much” you scold him and he smirks, looking around the room 

“How long was I out for?” You hold a cup up and put the straw in his mouth 

“A day or so, but like all of yesterday, and during the night. It’s 2 in the afternoon. So not like a day-day but like a day you know what I mean?”

Oddly he does know what you mean.

“How did you get in here?” He asks as he gingerly tries to sit up, You help him, raising the bed and fluffing up his pillow behind him

“Uh… I may have said I was your wife” 

Eddie looks at you, blinking before he laughs “No- really how did they let you in” he chuckles lightly 

You waved your fingers with a little smirk on your face, a simple gold ring was on your finger, and Eddie had one too. 

“I was already wearing the ring in general… and Buck brought one from home for you last night. I told them you just left yours on the nightstand that day. And trust me that was an award-winning sob performance okay” 

Eddie puts his hand up to yours. Your hand is so much smaller than his… so much softer. You wrap your fingers around his and stand up, leaning over to kiss him gently. 

“I’ve never been so scared” You whisper honestly, your heart beating out of your chest. Eddie tugs on your hip, pulling you closer to him and you smirk, raising an eyebrow. You go around the bed, to his good side, and crawl in with him. He puts his arm around you and pulls you into him, kissing your head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you sweet girl” he whispers into your hair, nuzzling his head against you. He doesn’t remember too much of what happened, but he does remember you and Buck saving him, that’s about the only thing he can remember 

“I like you, Eddie” 

Athena was right, life was too short to keep that from him. He freezes in his tracks, he’s short-circuiting and his heart monitor gives away the way his heart rate picks up when you say that. You giggle into his chest and he groans 

“I like you too Y/N, I should have told you sooner. Like you know, the minute I saw you” 

You blush at his words, looking up at him. 

“Friends until we’re ready to move things forward?” You ask softly, carding your fingers through his hair. Your palm rests on his cheek and he leans into your touch. 

“Friends until I heal up and can take you on a proper date” 

It’s funny how things work out. You and Buck help Eddie into his bedroom, and then Buck helps bring your bags in from the jeep and into the spare room. You’re not moving in officially, just long enough to nurse Eddie back to health. Which Buck insisted on. The doctor said he’d be up and running again in a week or two but Buck couldn’t stand the idea of Eddie being home alone and, to be honest, neither could you. 

“Please let me remind you both, that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself” 

He sits up a bit awkwardly, wincing, and Buck helps him. Grumbling as he fluffs up Eddie’s pillow 

“You need help for at least three days minimum and with Y/N not having anything to do she’s the perfect nurse” 

“You guys are acting like I’m a child this is ridiculous” Eddie crosses one arm over his chest, pouting especially because he can’t cross both 

“You know if it makes you feel better, Buck bought you a surprise,” you say as you smooth out the covers on the end of the bed 

“What kind of surprise?” Eddie perks up a little and Buck claps his hands, rubbing them together 

“Oh ho ho just you wait and see. I’ll be right back!” Buck runs out of the room and you roll your eyes 

“I don’t even know where the hell he got it”

“What is it?” 

“Oh, I’m not telling you. And there’s no way in hell either of you is making me do it”

“Do what?” Before Eddie can even begin to guess, Buck comes running back in, he jumps on the bed, jostling Eddie and nearly knocking you off 

“Tadaaaa!!!” He throws a clear costume bag in Eddie’s lap, it’s a nurse's costume complete with a cute little hat. Eddie bursts out laughing, holding onto his chest until he’s wheezing and crying. Both he and Buck are in a heap and your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you turn away from them and slide off the bed 

“It’s not funny!” You yell at them and they keep giggling their heads off, wiping at their eyes 

“Oh come on, please? Please, please, please just once” Eddie has his hands clasped now, giving you the biggest, sweetest puppy dog eyes, and your mouth drops. Buck copies him and they put their heads together like they’re little angels and not the absolute assholes they’re being 

“Why are you trying to get me into it?!” You point a finger at Buck and he gestures wildly 

“Because that’s comedy gold!! And you know it’s just fun” 

“How about you put it on!” 

“Bet. Bet” Buck snatches it from the bed and gets off “If I do it, you do it” 

“Deal” 

“Wait no deal!” Eddie says “He’ll stretch it out! Go buy another one” 

“Oh my god you’re right” Buck tosses it at you and grabs his keys from the bedside table

“I’ll be back!!” 

You climb back onto the bed as Buck leaves, crawling over and fluffing up Eddie’s pillow again 

“You guys are idiots” 

“Yeah, but we’re your idiots. Maybe we can get me one and we can be a group for Halloween 

You giggle and lay next to him on the bed, putting your head on the other pillow. He looks at you, a soft smile on his face. 

“Hi”

“Hi”

“You really gonna put that thing on?” He nods at it and you blush 

“Yeah. Because we both know Buck will, and I’m a woman of my word”

Eddie looks at you, a mischievous little smirk on his face

“You know…. I wouldn’t mind a little pre-show”

You give him a look “A pre-show huh?”

“I’m sure it would cheer me up… you know since I’m so hurt and all” he gives you those big ole puppy dog eyes again and you let your head fall back laughing 

“You’re such a little shit” 

You grab the bag from the bed and hop down 

“Give me a minute” 

Eddie isn’t sure what he expected, but he wasn’t prepared for when you walk back into his room. He can hear the sultry click of your heels as you walk slowly down the hallway… he shifts nervously, looking at the door.  

“Surprise” you hold your arms up, waving your fingers “What do you think, I thought the heels sold it” You giggle as you do a little spin for him. “Buck is gonna look great in this, and I'm already hating” 

Have you ever seen that scene in SpongeBob? Where little SpongeBob's are running around his brain trying to figure out his name and everything is on fire? 

Eddie’s mouth drops wide open. He’s not sure where to look first, he’s not even sure if he should be looking. You walk over to him, placing your finger under his chin and closing his mouth 

“Dropped somethin’ gorgeous” You purr and he slaps a pillow over his lap 

“Go change. Go change right now” 

“Yeah no I’m pretty comfortable like this actually” You hop up on the bed, crossing one leg over the other. You prop yourself up with your hands and let your head fall back. Eddie is speechless and mindless and he’s sure all the blood in his body has gone to one place in particular at this point 

“You need anything, sir? Water maybe? A sponge bath” you whisper breathlessly, biting the tip of your finger.

His face flushes even deeper and you fall onto your back cackling 

“Oh my god, Eddie you should see your face!” 

Eddie watches you laughing at him, his eyes narrow as yours water. You sit up, still giggling and trying to hold yourself together 

“I’m so-sorry” you snicker. Crawling up to him, you sit on your legs and lean forward a bit

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t be laughing so much at your reaction that’s not very-“ You don’t even get to finish your apology

Because you’re within reach now. 

His arm shoots out and he pulls you in by the back of your head, you stumble forward and land against his chest, your hands in front of you. He pushes your lips together, greedily kissing you like he’s missed your sweet taste. When he’s sure you’ll stay there, his hand trails down your side before tossing the pillow aside and tugging you into his lap properly. 

“Eddie wait you have to-“ 

“Did I say stop kissing me?” His voice is deep and a bit growly when he speaks, he’s glaring at you and you melt right into his lap like a dreamy little puddle. 

Your lips frantically find his again and he moans in approval, your tongue lapping at his, before twisting in a lock for dominance. You feel his hand slide down over your ass and play with the fabric of the dress a bit like he’s tempted to pull it up.

And he is tempted to pool it around your waist and see just what other surprises you’re hiding. 

He adjusts his hips a bit and rubs against you. He can feel that little wet patch beginning to form on the front of your panties. You moan softly and it’s like music to his ears, that’s one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard fall from your lips. He ruts his hips against yours again and you whimper this time, holding onto his good shoulder. Your hips automatically come back down on his, grinding down a bit. He grins wickedly, trailing kisses across your cheek 

“Tell me what you taste like” He whispers in your ear, nibbling it a little “Have you ever tasted yourself, angel?” He walks two fingers down your hip and around to the front of your dress 

“Will you let me-“ 

“Oh my god, you guys, I can’t believe they actually had one in my-“ 

Buck comes into the bedroom, takes one look at the two of you, and screams at the top of his lungs 

“Oh- oh my- oh- god oh-“ He gags. “Are you???? Did I??? Wait are you?! Oh my god are-!?!”

He can’t tell if he should be happy, or bleach out his eyeballs. 

You scramble off of Eddie’s lap and slap the pillow over his hard-on. He yelps and you squeak

“Shit. Sorry. Buck no-no-no!!! It’s not what it looks like!!” You get off the bed and his mouth drops even more as you straighten out your dress 

“Are those heels!?!” 

“I thought it would be funny!! I thought they worked with the costume!!” 

“I mean yeah they do but I’m never gonna find any in my size that goes with this” 

“Okay fine I’ll take them off so it’s fair”

“Okay… anyway…” He screams again and falls to his knees, covering his face “Mama noooooooo”

You groan and fall backwards on the bed and Eddie just laughs at Buck’s theatrics 

“We didn’t do anything!!” You yell over his crying and he struggles to pull himself up off the floor using the bed

“You slept with my best friend!” He points at you and your mouth drops open 

“I did not!! We made out! That’s it” 

“Well stop making out!”

“Do you want that?” Eddie asks, looking at him 

“Oh my god of course not. I want my cousin and my best friend to get married so we can be related. Stop making out with him!!” He throws a pillow at you and it knocks you backwards

“I don’t know how to feel. Do I want you guys to finally fuck and get together? Uh yes?!. But will I also end my life if I ever see that? Also yes!!!” 

“Can you just go change, you freaking cockblock” Eddie hisses at him and Buck gives him a skeptical look 

“Yeah. Because you two would have had sex anyway. Sure.” 

You roll over back next to Eddie and lay your head on his chest.

“He’s the worst”

“No, actually he is” 

“I can still hear you guys!!”

Buck takes his time changing, you can hear him bouncing as he fights his ass into the tights 

“Do you want help?” You giggle, Eddie is rubbing soft circles on your back, truly enjoying the way you’re lying with him in that skimpy little outfit. 

“Oh my god” Eddie looks up when Buck walks in and does a little spin, matching your exact stance from earlier 

“Oh my god” you repeat, your jaw dropping. 

“He looks better than you do”

“He looks better than I do”

[ishikawayukis]

to my happiness, happy birthday 💕

[crowliphale]

May your ideas be many and your art blocks few

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Dear Moor Monster of Mine

3,424 words || read on ao3

I've been meaning to write a wolfblood harringrove au for so very long, so I'm glad that the @harringrove-relay-race gave me the push I needed to finally put my ideas down!

This is the first chapter. The full fic will be up on my AO3, but I didn't want to post too much here haha :)

---

Since the series of incidents last year, Steve’s parents have been keeping an unbearably close eye on him. If you had asked Steve perhaps three years ago, he would have been overjoyed with having his parents around all the time. But, right now, making his walk of shame from the car park where his mam dropped him off to the school’s doors, he can’t bring himself to feel anything other than frustrated.

Instead of travelling away on one of their monthly ‘work conferences’, Steve’s parents have taken to staying home month-round. That now includes the full moons. 

When Steve was little he used to hate that his mam and dad left him home alone for such an important day. Sure, they made sure to get nice babysitters or arrange sleepovers for him with Tommy and Carol, but all he had wanted was to share that experience with them. It didn’t matter that he knew he couldn’t do the transformation yet and so couldn’t fully understand it all, they were still his pack and it felt like they just didn’t want to share something that fundamental to wolfblood life with him.

It was isolating and upsetting, no matter how many kisses or how much quality time his parents would try to repay him with upon their return. He just wanted to spend those days with them. But now? Now he would much rather be left alone to watch movies, hang out with his friends, and not have his trainers chewed-through by his mam’s overeager wolf self.

“Nice wellies, Stevie!” Tommy calls out from across the yard as Steve passes by.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” he huffs, striding on past to where Nancy and Jonathan are already waiting. 

Nancy doesn’t so much as spare him a glance as he comes to a squeaking standstill in front of them. She only manages a distracted ‘Hi, Steve’ as she continues flipping through her bag, clearly looking for something.

“Morning,” he answers anyway before turning to Jonathan.

He’s not looking at Steve either, too distracted by sending his choice of footwear a confused look.

“Planning on trekking through the woods later?” he asks by way of greeting.

“Monsters ate my shoes, had to make do with these instead.”

That makes Nancy’s head finally shoot up. For a moment, she gapes at him, flustered and speechless, before she composes herself with a sigh and a shake of her head. 

It’s then that she straightens up, shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder and brushing her hair back behind her ear. It opens her back into the group from where she had otherwise been sequestered off in her own mind. Steve grins at her.

“Don’t joke about stuff like that when Barb’s around,” she reminds him, expression friendly even in spite of her reproach.

“Don’t joke about what when I’m around?”

Well speak of the devil.

They all turn to Barb as she settles herself into their circle. Jonathan and Nancy look pained but Steve just throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a squeezing sideways hug.

“Nothing,” he dismisses. “Just the photography club.”

Barb rolls her eyes, leaning back in Steve’s hold to send him a look that says she doesn’t quite believe him. She doesn’t shrug out of his hold, though, and that might be enough to lighten his petulant mood. The pair of them have come a long way since the whole drama around him and Nancy dating, which is something he’s very glad for.

Losing Tommy and Carol as friends stung, no matter how much he knew it was probably for the best; they weren’t very nice people and being around that sort of character wasn’t doing him any favours, but they had been his friends for years. But cutting himself loose from them, and by apologising properly to Jonathan for being nasty about his brother going missing and to Barb for being such a douche, did bring him into a much nicer friend group.

“You’re not still on about that, are you?” Barb asks him.

“Always,” he replies with a grin, raising his brows. 

Okay, maybe he’s not fully lost all his douchey-ness, but at least now he can argue it’s just part of his charm. Barb just shakes her head and accepts it with a fond roll of her eyes. 

“You already have your own camera,” Steve continues, turning now to address Jonathan, “so it’s not like you need it to be a school club.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice for it to be.”

“Fine, but I still think I deserve more credit for joining.”

“You only put your name down on some paper,” Nancy points out, smiling indulgently at him.

“And wasn’t that to make up for you smashing my camera?” Jonathan pipes up.

Steve cups a hand over his heart with a wounded expression.

“Wow, I see how it is. And, for the record—” he drops his hold on Barb to lean in and jab a finger into Jonathan’s chest “—I replaced that camera, as you should all know. You use it all the time for your stupid club. And what’s the point of the school supplying you with stuff if you bring your own in anyway?”

No one humours that with a response. That’s fine, they’ve gone over this bickering a hundred times before. Steve only really brings it up to wind them up now—all in good humour! At the end of the day, he’s fine with being an on-paper member of their club if it helps them out or whatever, especially since he knows that the Photography Club is Jonathan’s favourite thing about school.

He owes them all as much as well, for continuing to let him hang around. They let him off the hook for last year with less grovelling than was probably deserved.

“Ah,” Barb jumps in. “Speaking of photography… you’ve got to see what I found this morning on the moors.”

She unearths her phone from her bag and Steve winces. Sure, it’s only been about a year that he’s known Barb, but he really has come to like her. 

The whole of Hawkins High has always known about her monster on the moors theory—hell, the whole town probably does—and Steve had laughed at it back then, like everyone else, but now Barb is his friend… It leaves a bit of a sour taste in his mouth to think of the way he’d acted about that before, and the way others still act now.

It was arrogance, that sort of reaction. Thinking he was better than her because of her theories. And it was him in particular who was more arrogant than anyone else, hiding behind it to ignore that twinge of anxiety. It was easier to dismiss it all as ridiculous. Steve hadn’t quite been cruel enough to laugh in her face, but he’d still snickered behind his hands with Tommy and Carol before him and Nancy had gotten together early last year. 

Now that he knows Barb, it’s definitely worse. With him being around her so often, it feels like he’s waiting for her to look at him a little too closely and see just what lies beneath the surface. And that’s something he really doesn’t want, not just for his own safety.

They had to come a long way to get to where they stand now, but she’s undoubtedly one of his closest friends. Her, Nancy and Jonathan. All three of them—despite their rocky time when Steve had thought Nancy was cheating on him with Jonathan—are the people he cares about most in this world. 

He really doesn’t want Barb’s obsession with her own ghost story to get in between them all, he couldn’t handle it if they decided he was still a monster even after everything.

“See?” Barb asks, shoving the screen of her cellphone in their faces.

On it, clear as day, is the photo of a paw print. Realistically, it could be anything so it shouldn’t matter… but Steve can’t help the small shudder of anxiety in his chest. It doesn’t even make sense! His parents couldn’t have been up in the moors to leave that—he would know—and there’s no other wolfbloods around for miles of their territory, so it’s got to be an animal. 

And yet.

“Um… What… is it?” Jonathan asks. “Just a paw print?”

Barb huffs, turning to show Nancy instead, who gives the photo a more genuinely intrigued look.

“ ‘Just a paw print’,” Barb grumbles. “This is proof.”

“It could be,” Nancy says, and Steve can tell that she’s serious. “I could also be a fox or something—”

“Yeah, or a stray dog,” Jonathan suggests.

Barb looks at Steve pleadingly, but there’s nothing he can say. He knows this isn’t what Barb wants it to be. It can’t be.

“We need more concrete evidence,” Nancy consoles her instead.

“But this still proves something,” Barb insists. “That there’s something up there.”

“Hey, Barbara!” Carol calls.

The group of them all turn to see Carol, Tina and Vicki walking up behind them.

“I saw something weird on the moors: you.”

The others snicker as they push past, making their way inside. Steve shoots them a sour look as they strut past.

“Whatever, Carol,” Jonathan sighs, never having enough energy to deal with her dramatics.

Steve can’t blame him, it seems impossible that he had been able to get used to what they were like.

“Ignore her,” Nancy tells Barb.

“I will. We’ll show her when we end up being right.”

Nancy nods with an unsettling certainty.

—

Walking in to their form room would be the same as usual were it not for the folder of posters Nancy finally unearths from her bag. She leafs through them, splitting the pile into smaller ones to hand to each of them. Steve accepts his own with a begrudging confusion, peering down at the sign-up sheets and trusting the others to guide his way through the halls.

“When did you have time to print these off?” he asks.

“I came in early,” Nancy tells him with a shrug. “My parents wanted me to show Mike around on his first day anyway, so I was in early.”

Steve hums.

“That’s right, you two—” he gestures between Jonathan and Nancy “—have your brothers starting year 7 now, right?”

Jonathan nods to him; “That’s right.”

They turn a corner, heading towards the stairs up to Mrs Click’s room.

“Why don’t you just get them to sign up for your club, then? They’re nerds. That way you won’t need to stick these up around school.”

Barb rolls her eyes as Steve reaches over her to wave his stack under Nancy’s nose. The brunette just bats him away with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t think they’d find that particularly… cool,” Jonathan answers in her stead, “hanging out with their older siblings.”

Steve shrugs. He can’t say he can relate, being an only child, but whatever, he can see where they’re coming from. 

Barb and Nancy are debating the best ways to go about getting new members for the photography club when Steve goes rigid. They take a few more steps before they realise he’s fallen behind and then, with curious eyes, turn back to call out to him.

Steve doesn’t hear a word of it. Something’s off.

An unusual scent roots him to the spot. He doesn’t know what it is—or maybe he does, but it can’t possibly be what he thinks. All he knows is that this has never been here before, and it shocks him with a deep sense of wrongness. It doesn’t belong there.

He needs to root it out.

An instinctive territoriality spurs him onwards, picking up his pace until his friends are following after him with confused shouts. He needs to find whatever left that scent throughout the school. It’s like he can see it, a trail of scent in the air guiding him to whoever or whatever left it.

“Steve?” Nancy is calling. “Steve!”

He just keeps moving, feet carrying him onwards. Turning down hall after hall, paying no attention to the loitering students he shoulders past. 

“Steve, you’re going the wrong way,” he thinks that might be Jonathan this time.

The bell rings and more students hurry through the corridor, dispelling the scent trail. If Steve had gone through his first transformation by now, he’d probably still be able to track down whoever left it from the lingering traces, but with his senses not being fully developed yet…

He stands still dumbly, staring ahead with a sense of uselessness. The wolf instinct within him feels unappeased.

“C’mon,” Jonathan coaxes, leading him back over to where Barb and Nancy stand looking concerned. “We’ve got class.”

It’s probably lucky for them all that the scent trail Steve was following didn’t create too big of a detour. As it stands, they get into Mrs Click’s class for form in the nick of time. The woman stands up at the front of the room, talking to an unfamiliar head of blonde curls.

At first, Steve notices nothing askew—Mrs Click is talking to the new student about how she is their form tutor and head of year—but then it washes over him. The adrenaline of nearly being late to his first lesson fades and that scent steals his attention again. 

He freezes in where he’s stepped aside to allow Barb to shuffle into their shared desk, eyes swivelling to that new figure. Now that he’s paying attention, it’s like the scent itself is visible in the air, clouding around him with that cloying wrongness and announcing to the world how wrong his presence here is.

There’s a cocksure smirk on his face that makes Steve’s lip curl in disdain, an instinctual need to snarl and warn off the outsider barely suppressed.

“Everyone, this is William Hargrove—”

“Billy,” the new kid buts in. “It's Billy.”

A chorus of ooohs rise from the room, students goading on the attitude shown to their teacher. For her credit, Mrs Click takes it in stride. Instead, she nods and turns to settle the class.

“Okay,” she says, raising her voice over the beginnings of chatter. “That’s enough, thank you…”

But Steve is barely listening. It’s like everything else fades away and his focus narrows down to this William—Billy—still standing at the front of the class. Like Steve’s whole world is overtaken by the beating of his heart and the inescapable smell of him, a smell that’s so familiar. Familiar in a way that has his hackles rising in unease. It’s almost like…

“You smell like my parents,” Steve blurts out, and the rest of the class starts laughing.

Nancy reaches over from her and Jonathan’s desk to yank him down into his seat by the hem of his jumper’s sleeve. She shoots him an unimpressed look as Mrs Click scolds him:

“Alright, Harrington. Sit down.”

Steve barely hears any of them, barely notices any of it. Billy’s eyes had locked on to his, deep and blue and endless. It felt like Steve was falling into them, diving head-first into their emptiness where Billy would eat him alive. 

“Steve,” Barb whispers, jabbing him with an elbow. 

It’s only then that Steve realises he’s been watching Hargrove as he walks over to an empty seat at the very back of the room. 

“What’s gotten into you?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, trying to turn and give her his full attention. “It’s nothing.”

He can’t get involved, not after everything. Steve has been working so hard to prove to his parents and his friends—hell, even to Tommy and Carol as they watch with a smug anticipation for his downfall—that he’s not the guy he used to be. That’s something he can’t just throw away by causing problems with the new kid, even if he’s breaking every rule Steve has ever known.

There’s no question that this Billy is a wolfblood like he is, like his family is. The question is what is he doing here? One doesn’t just set up themselves on some other pack’s territory, and the Harringtons have held the territory around Hawkins for centuries. 

By showing up here, Billy is throwing everything off balance, but Steve can’t risk doing anything about it. Not now, not like this. As much as Steve wants to step up and scare him off, this is something he’s going to have to leave to his parents to deal with.

Even as he feels the itch of Billy’s eyes on the back of his neck, Steve keeps on looking ahead.

—

Billy, so it seems, takes no time to settle into Hawkins. By the time lunch rolls around, he’s already settled himself pride of place between Tommy and Carol, a wolfish curl to his grin that flashes just a hint of canine. It’s so outlandishly taunting that Steve has to sit with his back to their table to avoid staring at his sheer gall.

Nancy and Jonathan are discussing the school paper when Steve decides he can’t stand this silence anymore. He tears his head around from looking over his shoulder after Billy’s eyes catch his and his smirk seems to dim.

“Where the hell did he even come from?” he asks, cutting off Jonathan’s suggestion about… actually Steve isn’t sure, something about a book of the week.

“Who?” Nancy asks and Steve jerks his head back to where Billy now keeps sending glances his way. 

He can feel the others’ gaze on him, like someone is brushing his fur the wrong way. 

“Billy,” he says, trying with great difficulty to keep his tone neutral. “Someone must have seen something. Moving vans or something. Anything.”

Jonathan just shrugs.

“Not that I heard. Seems like everyone’s interested in him now, though.”

Steve looks around again in time to see Tina and Vicki settle themselves in the seats opposite Billy and Carol, effectively severing Steve’s line of sight. He huffs and turns back around. At the very least, them blocking the way soothes that feeling of being observed.

When he meets her eye, Nancy has a concerned look on her face.

“Leave it Steve,” she warns, voice carefully neutral. “You don’t want to get caught up in any trouble again.”

He hears what she’s saying, even if she won’t just come out with it. 

I won’t put up with you if you act like an asshole again.

It rankles him. It’s not even like it’s him doing anything wrong here! He almost wants to tell her that, to point out that for once he’s not just being an asshole, but doesn’t dare. He can’t, he reminds himself.

He couldn’t tell Tommy and Carol—probably for the best given their massive fall out—and so he can’t tell these guys either. No matter what. Which means he just has to bite his tongue and mind himself. This is something he just needs to let lie and have his parents handle it.

They can reach out to Billy’s pack, he thinks. And then this will be sorted.

“And who’s that?” 

Billy’s voice is clear and quiet with consideration, cutting through all the background noise like he had whispered the words directly into Steve’s ear. He shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he can’t help himself from focusing his enhanced hearing to pick up the conversation.

“Him?” Tommy says, breaking off with a derisive laugh. “That’s ‘King Steve’, used to be top dog around here. The Harrington’s have lived here for years, one of those right old families and Steve acted like it until he got all soft and cosied up to Nancy. Well—” Tommy laughs again and Steve clenches his fist beneath the table “—until Nancy ran off after weirdo Byers, there.”

Billy hums, interested. He doesn’t say anything else, but Steve can feel the way his eyes linger on him for a long moment.

The canteen smells like the sweat of overcrowded kids as he takes in steadying breaths through his nose. Jonathan, Barb and Nancy chat on none the wiser. It takes a long moment, but Steve manages to reign in his self control and steel himself into an icy indifference.

It doesn’t matter what Tommy thinks of him. Steve’s moved on, he’s better than this now. And the new kid won’t be around for long. Wolfblood packs don’t mix; even if he’s here now, he won’t be for long. Him and his pack will be long gone by the end of the week.

---

Stick around to see what wonderful work @medusapelagia has put together for us next!! <3

[abjectimpulse]

a strilonde christmas.

[quentintin7]

I like the elevator

[lunar-wandering]

[MonitorLock]

my brain connected the song ive had on loop with the music video to the other song ive had on loop for the past week

[empyreanstars]

it has been like 55 seconds since i posted my intro post but here lookit

[thefreakandthehair]

A Steddie fanfiction. Rated E. 84k.

----

April 1986

“How’re you feeling, Ed?” Steve asks quietly, preserving the stillness of the night that surrounds them. 

“Think I’m alright, a little tired.” Eddie watches the gentle waves that ripple out from his shins kicking softly in the water. It’s been a long day, even he has to admit that, and he’s feeling… well, that’s the end of the sentence. He’s feeling. 

It’s the first time Eddie’s been around everyone all at once since the Upside Down and the kids, they mean well and he knows that, surrounded him with so much love that it’d become overwhelming. So had sitting upright, walking around, talking. The last hour or so, he’d gone ghost— transparent without actually disappearing— and the others followed his lead. Pretend you’ve vanished hard enough and the people around will you pretend, too. Except for Steve, he discovers.

It’s an odd thing though, preferring to be still, to be quiet, and he hates that the Upside Down has stolen this piece of himself, too. Steve’s assured him that it’s okay, that he’ll be his boisterous, loud, antsy self again when his body’s healed but it’s taking too long for Eddie’s liking. Or comfort. 

“You know it's normal, right? It’s a lot, Ed. You didn’t even have to stay out here the whole time, no one would’ve minded or blamed you.” Steve sits next to him, letting his feet slide in beside Eddie’s. Everyone else is inside— kids, parents, everyone who’s made the Harrington House their base while waiting for the government pay-outs and new homes. It’s late now, but Steve and Eddie take advantage of the silence as they so often do. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Steve nods and lets his pinky touch the edge of Eddie’s, palm down on the cold, wet concrete. 

“You don’t, you’re right. I didn’t either. For what it’s worth though,” Steve takes a breath, thinks about how he wants to word this without making a confession he’s not yet ready for, “I like every version of you.” 

Eddie’s heart pounds in his chest and he watches the ripples from Steve’s legs blend into his. Huh, he thinks, something symbolic there. 

He doesn’t respond, just wraps his pinky around Steve’s. 

Coming soon to ao3: February 1, 6:00PM PST (3:00 PM EST)

Now Posted!

tagging people who've asked or have listened to me ramble on and on for months: @bayouteche @starrystevie @tuvens @rougenancy @ruthofrhythm @toburnup @sparklyslug @justspicysixthings @fruityfour @fruityfourgalore @fastcardotmp3 @flashyysins @stevethehairington @kkpwnall @buckleydiaz @strawberryspence @undreamingscatworld @seidenbros @legitcookie @aringofsalt @patheticgirlsteve @henrystars @sharpbutsoft @nailbatandrobin @harringtonisms @stardustonpages @corrodedcoughin @steddiebf @songbvrd @hexiewrites @courtjestermunson @wroteclassicaly @cheatghost @flowercrowngods @lesstat-de-lioncourt @withacapitalp @newton-pulsifer @quevadilla @strangersatellites @stevesbipanic @wynnyfryd @prettyboyandthemetalhead @gothbat99 @sidekick-hero @stevecarrington @aidaronan @stargyles @bmodiwrites @evergreennwilloww @steves-babysitter @pizzaqueen @ruvina-loz @lallagoupsidedown @phantypurple @counting-dollars-counting-stars @deehellcat @stardustonpages @unclewaynemunson @yournowheregirl @punkharringtxn @babyboyargyle