#flight of icarus compliant

[strangersteddierthings]

Eddie blinks. Once. Twice. And a third time for good measure. The scene before him doesn't change. Steve Harrington stands off to the side of the lunch table, behind Jeff and Frankie who have both gone still as statues like they think if they don't move, King Steve won't see them.

"Uh, what?" Eddie finds himself saying, against his own will. He heard Harrington the first time, doesn't need or want him to repeat himself, but his disbelief seems to have won out against his grudge for all jocks and his indifference to Steve Harrington in particular.

Harrington's face pinches, like he's three seconds away from rolling his eyes. He doesn't do that, though, which Eddie will give him one brownie point for. "I asked if you had a minute to talk." Eddie's taking away his brownie point because Steve 'asks' in a way that sounds more like a demand.

Hearing the question and or demand a second time doesn't lower Eddie's hackles, but it does pique his curiosity. He drums his fingers atop his lunchbox, thinking it over. He wishes he could say he's pretending to think about it before he tells Harrington to fuck off, but the truth is he actually is thinking about it.

What could Harrington possibly have to say to him? They very much do not run in the same circles. Eddie only talks business at the picnic table past the edge of the woods out back and everyone who buys from him knows that. They share several classes, since they're both seniors, but everyone knows Eddie's on a track to not graduate (again) so he can't possibly be coming to discuss Mrs. Click's homework assignment.

"Sure. Should we go elsewhere or...?" Eddie trails off, lifting a hand to wave in a circle in Steve's direction, questioning.

Steve looks over his shoulder, back towards the side of the cafeteria taken up by the 'popular' crowd. When Steve turns his face back, he looks- well, kind of sad for a moment before it's smoothed over with indifference.

Interesting.

"No. It's probably good that the rest of your friends hear it anyway," Steve answers.

Jeff's eyebrows rise to his hairline, and Frankie frowns as his eyebrows raise at the same time, showing an expression of interest. Eddie's got no idea what Gareth's face is doing because Eddie can't see him unless he wants to turn his face away, but he's certain it's probably a glare of some sort.

Eddie leans back in his chair, wiggling like he's getting extra comfortable before he says, "Well, alright Harrington. Shoot."

"I'm graduating this year, so I just wanted to give you a heads up for next year. I tried to curb the bullying, but I know it still happened. So, since I'm not going to be here to watch out for that, you're gonna wanna up your," Steve gestures to all of Eddie, "everything."

He knew Steve curbed the bullying a bit, heard the confirmation of that last year from Jason Carver and Tommy Hagan, when he'd stepped in to save Gareth. Or rather, Gareth had come flying in to save him and then Eddie had to save Gareth- well, the details don't matter really.

"My everything?" Eddie asks, more confused than angry. He thinks he should be angry. Harrington has all but outright said he doesn't think Eddie's going to graduate with him, after all. But no. The main emotion now is confusion.

"Yeah. Your, y'know, freakinesss or whatever. Be more of it."

"Be more of a freak?" It's fascinating, that Harrington just keeps talking like he thinks anyone at this table care for his opinion.

"Yeah!" Harrington says, cheery like he thinks that Eddie's agreed with him somehow, complete with a stupid snap of his fingers that turns into a finger gun pointed at Eddie. "You've already got this like unapproachable mad dog kind of look about you, most of the JV team is already scared of you. Just like, up that a bit more and they'll probably steer clear of you and your friends." Then Harrington frowns deep, looking around the table of nerds and dorks before looking down at the top of Gareth's head to add, "well. Except probably curly here. No offense, but you seem an easy target."

"Fuck off," Gareth growls, because of everyone at the table, Gareth does have the most bite. (Most bark goes to Eddie himself). Eddie's more prone to run from a problem than engage in it, unlike Gareth, who he's had to pull off of a few people this year.

"Or not," Harrington retracts his previous statement and Eddie will grant the man another brownie point, which brings the total up to one.

"Good to know my reputation precedes me," Eddie grins, wild and a bit manic.

Harrington is unphased. "Yeah! Do that more. I think it really freaks Jason out and he's most likely to take the captain slot next year, so if you get him afraid of you, the rest of the team'll fall in line and leave you alone too. I think he's super religious, so like, lean into the satanic panic thing people are up in arms about and next year will be a breeze. And-"

Eddie lifts a hand, a motion for Harrington to stop talking. It surprised him a little that Harrington does. Even more interesting. "Stop me if I'm wrong here, Harrington, but are you suggesting that I become the bully?"

Harrington's mouth opens and closes a few times before his face pinches again. Instead of looking like he's going to roll his eyes and be bitchy, Harrington looks confused and then like he's deep in thought. An uncomfortable amount of awkward silence falls over there table, but it's just when Eddie's about to break that silence that Harrington finally speaks. "No. I'm saying just like, be you but bigger. Like, you don't even gotta look in the team's direction. If you're just more of a freak than you usually are, they'll steer clear without the bullying."

"You sure know how to compliment a guy," Eddie deadpans. He's not even upset that Steve's called him a freak. He's spent the majority of his high school career cultivating that outlook. He wasn't just a freak, he was The Freak.

Now a look crosses Harrington's face. One Eddie's not sure he's interpreting correctly. If he had to take a guess, he'd say the look was calculating, knowing, in a way that Eddie doesn't think Harrington could actually achieve. Then it's gone, replaced with the bitchy, eye-rolling look Eddie's used to seeing, and Harrington says, "I haven't said anything untrue."

Hmm. The most interesting thing yet. Eddie might not be graduating (again) but he's not dumb. He didn't survive this far in his life, with a father like his, without learning to read people. He wasn't as good as he wanted to be at reading people last year, but he's definitely good enough know to think that, maybe, just maybe, Harrington also knows a thing or two about cultivating a public perception. Making sure people only see a certain side of you.

"Alright," is what Eddie answers, "I'll take what you've said under advisement."

"Uh. Okay," Harrington says before he just walks away. Conversation over.

"Well," Jeff says, "that was strange."

"Very," Eddie agrees as he watches Harrington walk away, tracking him until the cafeteria door slams shut behind him when he exits.

Eddie has always wanted to up the ante, so to speak. Jump on a cafeteria table and rant about capitalism and organized sports. He never has before but next year seems like a great time to try.

[wheneverfeasible]

Sickness of the Heart

wc: 5.5k || rating: T+ || cw: sexual themes, language, slut-shaming (but for a good cause) || summary: After ending his FWB relationship with a!Eddie, o!Steve must deal with the humiliation of a self-imposed rejection sickness while interacting with the other members of Corroded Coffin. Flight of Icarus compliant. Angst with an open ending. || ao3

Note: This fic does contain a brief summary of Paige’s involvement in Flight of Icarus, so while it does contain some spoilers, this also means that you do not need to have read the book to enjoy this story. Also, while this is technically a Steddie fic, Eddie doesn’t actually make an appearance in the story itself lol.

This fic is partially inspired by @fkinkindagauche ‘s fic The Unbearable Horniness of Steve Harrington in relation to Steve’s rejection sickness. Excellent read if you haven’t yet!

-

Steve was going to murder Dustin.

Or maybe he’ll let him live, he hasn’t decided yet. The kid didn’t really know the whole story, after all, so it wasn’t like he knew how utterly lost and devastated Steve felt right now, the rejection sickness curling through him in sharp pangs and dull aches. He didn’t know how much Steve’s heart was breaking with every step Steve took towards Gareth’s garage.

The only benefit was that Steve knew Eddie was out of town, setting things up with Paige for their chance of redemption. The pretty beta had reached out after the news of Eddie’s trial had made front page news even outside of Indiana, her boss apparently wanting to give Eddie a second chance at making it big in the music industry.

Eddie had been floored, energetic, and even the boys in Corroded Coffin couldn’t fault him if he ditched them again to make a better life for himself. They all knew he deserved it after everything. Except, Eddie had told them point blank that he was never running again, never turning his back on those he cared about. Had agreed to the offer to audition properly, but only if all of Corroded Coffin was invited too. All or nothing, he’d said.

After a bit of back-and-forth, Paige’s boss agreed.

It had been the final nail in the coffin for this thing between him and Eddie.

The facts were this:

During Eddie’s first senior year, Paige, with her fancy music scout assistant L.A. job, had been visiting her family in town and stumbled across Corroded Coffin playing at The Hideout. As anyone with even a passing interest in music could clearly see, she discovered Eddie and was instantly impressed with his talent and passion for music. They had…hit it off.

It had led to an offer to audition. But just for Eddie. And Eddie? Young and stupid and running away from a town that already hated him just for being his father’s son? Well, he had agreed. And then said father had come back and ruined everything, had burned those bridges for Eddie before disappearing once again and taking with it Eddie’s chance of a better life.

Had, in fact, been directly responsible for Eddie getting into drug dealing with led to…everything.

The relationship with Paige had ended messily, but not as devastating as it could have been. At least, that was Steve’s understanding of things. Over the course of his and Eddie’s…thing…the older alpha had talked about his past, slowly revealing all of this to Steve who had opened up about his own traumatic past, about his guilt over Barb, his and Robin’s torture at the hands of evil Russians, and how his parents had never truly loved him, made all that much more obvious when his secondary gender presented as omega.

It had been nice. For a moment, Steve had been able to pretend that it was something more than it actually was. Could pretend that when Eddie called him beautiful as he moved inside him, that the alpha had meant it as more than just what a good lay Steve was.

It had never been more than that, however. No matter how much Steve desperately but secretly wished otherwise.

Helping Eddie recover, then also serving as a character witness for Eddie’s trial, the two of them had grown into something actually resembling genuine friends and not just two people thrown together because of otherworldly forces and trauma. Eddie even spent a large part of his time at Steve’s house as they all prepared for Eddie’s trial, whether with the larger group or just on his own.

And then Eddie’s rut hit, unexpectedly and most likely brought on by stress from the trial, and…well…well Steve actually hadn’t had a decent lay in a while since he’d been dating betas and other omegas almost exclusively since Nancy. He missed being with an alpha. Missed being able to let himself go and fall into omega space, which he trusted Eddie with since he was his friend first and foremost.

The offer had been met with incredulity, but Steve had pointed out that things with the trial and his defense would get messy if Eddie lost control if he either tried to weather it alone or find another omega to share it with, and Steve was game if Eddie was. Purely transactional, just two bros helping each other out, never to be spoken about again.

Except neither had been prepared for how compatible they were with sex, even if they weren’t always compatible in their day-to-day friendship. So, after the embarrassment and awkwardness went away, they settled on a deal. When Steve’s heat came around, Eddie would help him out too. And he did not too long later, and it was just as great as the first time too.

And then they had sex when neither rut nor heat was present.

It was drunken sex, sure, celebrating not only Eddie’s freedom with the long trial finally being over but also celebrating the high school diploma Eddie had received in the mail that day, but it was sex all the same. And then it kept happening. Just two bros helping each other let off steam while enjoying some fantastic orgasms. Friends with benefits and that was it.

Except that wasn’t it for Steve.

No, his days of just enjoying being casual ended when he’d fallen in love with Nancy, when the idea of a Winnebago full of pups had begun to seem like something he could actually have, and he’d been chasing that high ever since. Even when he casually dated after Nancy, it has always been in search of someone to share that future with.

Enter Eddie Munson, a ridiculously nerdy and unhinged alpha who loved Steve’s honorary pups as much as Steve himself did. And yeah, they bickered all the time, clashed and argued and didn’t really have much else in common and sometimes jabbed each other with pointed insults from high school, but the sex was fantastic and Eddie was…surprisingly sweet. Sensitive. Caring. Considerate.

Eddie was annoying and hyperactive and made Steve want to tear his hair out sometimes, but he was also exactly the sort of alpha that Steve had always wanted. Steve wasn’t certain when it actually began, but it was when he was watching Eddie carefully roughhouse with the pups one day that he found himself looking forward to how Eddie would be with their pups.

And that horrifying realization had been the beginning of the end.

He knew Eddie didn’t think about him like that. Honestly, how could he? First of all, Eddie deserved better than the town slut, not that Steve ever felt ashamed about being said slut. He liked sex and he though he eventually wanted a happily-ever-after of his own, he wasn’t opposed to sleeping around until he found it. If he ever did.

Now though, realizing that his inner omega had apparently decided on yet another alpha that he knew he could never truly have, he began wondering if he was just doomed to never being properly mated. But then it wasn’t just his inner omega craving Eddie’s alpha. It was Steve himself craving all of Eddie.

He had fallen in love with Eddie Munson. And he didn’t even know when it had happened.

Which, of course, meant that he had to end things. Immediately.

The rejection sickness he’d gotten after Tina’s party had been…intense. He’d been angry too, or really just heartbroken. He’d only been able to push it down, reason with the sickness, when he decided that it was just the alcohol and the stress and the guilt and had decided to apologize for…whatever he needed to apologize for. And then It happened and the sickness was pushed back even further to deal with everything until…

Well, when he saw Nancy and Jonathan and smelled them, he knew it was well and truly over. Then the sickness hit him back harder than ever. He knew he couldn’t suffer through that again, not like that. And he knew with a certainty that losing Eddie would make his previous sickness feel like a walk in the park if he let himself fall even more deeply in love with Eddie than he already was, if he let his inner omega start even more of the courting process than it had already tried.

It hadn’t been pretty. It wasn’t that Eddie had any genuine feelings for him outside of friendship and lust, but Steve suddenly breaking things off had been…complicated. More than he had expected it to be. But Paige had come sniffing around again by then and Steve knew…fuck, he knew how considerate Eddie was.

If he knew that Steve felt the way he had, that Steve’s omega had already claimed him as his alpha, then Eddie would be a self-sacrificing idiot and give Steve what he wanted even if he didn’t want it. To spare Steve that pain. Especially if Steve accidentally got knocked up, which was seeming more and more of a possibility when Steve’s stupid omega brain kept forgetting to take his birth control because it wanted to be knotted and pupped up.

Eddie had his whole life in front of him, and now a chance to actually make it out of Hawkins and live his big rockstar hero dreams. And the chance to be with the only person Steve knew that Eddie ever had actual feelings for. Steve couldn’t take that from him. So he broke up with him…as much as you can break up with someone who was just your friend that you’re ostentatiously just using for good sex.

Eddie had been rightly annoyed when he’d arrived at their regularly scheduled dick appointment time only to be kicked out with blue balls and told that it was never happening again. Among a few other sharp words to get the point across.

Steve probably should have called him before Eddie made it to his house, before Eddie had paid for the dinner he was bringing that night, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to say the words over the phones that for all he knew were still tapped by the government.

Steve could tell that Eddie had been a bit offended too, and worried. Of course Eddie would worry that he wasn’t doing enough in bed, that he wasn’t good enough in bed, which had to be a kick to an alpha’s ego no matter who it was. Steve couldn’t really just say that he was ending things so that Eddie could get with Paige again and move out of Hawkins, however.

So he played up the angle that he was growing bored, that he was looking for something new now, even as his inner omega railed against such lies. He wanted more, certainly, but more with Eddie. Which Eddie couldn’t give him. Sure, Eddie might stick around like a martyr if Steve flashed him that pleading omega look he knew Eddie’s alpha was weak for, but that didn’t mean that Eddie himself could give Steve what he most desperately wanted: Eddie’s heart.

Which led to now, with Eddie meeting with Paige at her big fancy grownup job and no doubt rekindling old flames, and Steve stuck in Hawkins having to return one of those Dipshits and Dingbats books that Dustin had borrowed from Gareth.

The band was practicing, even without their frontman Eddie being present, and as Steve turned off the engine of his car and grabbed the ratty old book in question, he could make out something over the sporadic noise about behind the scenes footage and their eventual rise to fame.

Which…yeah. Steve knew that it wasn’t a question of if but of when. Metal still wasn’t really his preferred style of music, but he’d gone to some shows, had even been to a few of the band’s practices after he and Eddie started messing around, and he knew the boys were talented. Any music exec would be stupid to pass them up.

He grimaced a little behind his sunglasses when, with a discordant screech of Jeff’s guitar, the racket stopped. The boy in question was glaring at him, which…fair, he supposed, since he was the one that broke off the thing with Eddie, but it wasn’t like it was anything more than just sex. Nothing to warrant the glares he was receiving from the whole band.

But then, they’d never really been too keen on Eddie being friends with him, much less hooking up, and it wasn’t like they could hide that with how their scents had begun mingling. Another sign that it was high time to break it off, before it entered beyond accidental courtship and drifted into accidental bonding.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Gareth growled, the scent of annoyed alpha only causing Steve to fumble slightly as he brought up one hand in mock surrender and the other holding the book.

“Henderson wanted to make certain you got this back before you left,” he huffed, pushing his sunglasses up over his head to squint at the trio glaring back at him. He waved the book a little, hoping one of them took it from him so he didn’t have to step further into the garage. No one did.

“Why didn’t he just bring it himself instead of sending you of all people?” Gareth scoffed with a small sneer, never having really been Steve’s biggest fan. Not that Steve could really blame him; he knew people like Steve hadn’t made Gareth’s life easy, including Gareth’s own father.

“Ask him yourself, asshole,” Steve muttered, cocking one hand on his hip impatiently. Though the other two were only betas and thus didn’t have much in the way of scents, their posturing didn’t leave any doubt that they didn’t like him.

He just…didn’t know why. Besides Gareth, the other two had seemed relatively okay with Steve hanging around. Jeff had even once been actively friendly, while…uh…fuck. Steve always forgot the other one’s name. Stan? No. Doug? No. Grant? He was fairly certain that was wrong too. Whatever. Anyways, he had only cared that Steve didn’t get in the way of practice or their non-Hellfire DnD games after Eddie graduated.

Now they all looked at him like how they had at the beginning, when they hadn’t trusted the former jock, when they had only seen King Steve and hated everything about him on principle, only seeing another Jason Carver instead of the dude who had stood up for their friend in trial. Whatever. It didn’t matter. It didn’t hurt.

At least, that’s what Steve kept telling himself.

He didn’t let himself think about how Jeff had once clapped him on the shoulder when he had embarrassedly brought some fudge he had made, trying out a new recipe to take to the Hopper-Byers’ during one of their semi-regular get-togethers that had originally cropped up during preparing for Eddie’s trial. Now it just became a thing they did for fun.

He also didn’t think about the other one (Jesus, seriously, what was his name again?) had jokingly argued with Eddie about what class Steve would be, certain that he’d be a basic fighter while Eddie had been adamant that he’d be a paladin. Steve hadn’t known what any of it meant, but the two of them had laughed at the end and it had been with Steve, not at him.

Even Gareth had, on occasion, been almost nice to him, settling Steve on the worn red couch at the back of the garage with noise cancelling headphones and some magazines of his mother’s when practice had run long and Steve was supposed to pick Eddie up to meet up with Jonathan and the others.

Now everyone just stared at him with unconcealed looks of annoyance and disdain. He hated it. Even though it wasn’t them his omega wanted, he still felt another sharp spasm of pain from the rejection of Eddie’s pack.

It must have showed on his face, or the way his body twitched and the arm holding out the book dropped, because a brief flash of concern whisked across Gareth’s expression and he stood up from his seat behind the drums, his nose crinkling.

“You smell like shit, Harrington,” he stated, moving around the drums to get slightly closer. At least the smell of annoyed alpha was dissipating.

“Gee, thanks,” Steve dryly said with a roll of his eyes. He swallowed against the burn of bile in his esophagus and held out the book once more. “Look, just take the damn book so I can go.”

A part of him was tempted just to drop the book, to let it fall and hit the concrete ground uncaring if the edges got fucked up or not. But these were Eddie’s friends and his inner omega wouldn’t let him do anything that might upset the alpha he wanted as his own. Pathetic as that was.

Gareth moved closer then, and Steve finally thought the younger boy would finally take the stupid thing from him, but instead Gareth’s hand shot out to grab hold of his wrist with a frown on his face. The touch of another alpha that wasn’t the one he wanted sent another roil of nausea through Steve’s belly, and he struggled hard to get his arm released, causing Gareth to simply tighten his hold.

“Let go of me!” Steve hissed. He saw the other two move forward towards them, but Gareth waved them back with his free hand, which they reluctantly listened to, though Jeff frowned as he glanced over his shoulder towards the back of the garage.

“You look sick, Harrington,” Gareth said instead of doing as he’d asked. “You smell sick too.”

“He’s right,” the other one, the bassist, said after a moment of consideration while Jeff’s head cocked to the side, an unreadable expression on his face. “I can’t smell you all that well, but you look terrible.”

“Don’t tell me,” Gareth scoffed, taking a long, deep sniff over Steve that caused him to blanche. “You really have the audacity to have rejection sickness when you’re the one who dumped Eddie?”

Steve pursed his lips and grabbed the book with his free hand to shove it at Gareth’s chest, forcing the younger boy to fumble and take it while moving back a step. He glared at them, wiping at his now freed wrist as though he could wipe off Gareth’s touch. Asshole.

“Don’t be such a fucking knothead,” Steve snarled, and no, maybe he didn’t get to have the intimidation of an alpha, but omegas would be fierce in their own ways. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the others who were more or less gaping at him now.

And he knew, okay? He knew it was weird, being sick when he had been the one to call it off, and it wasn’t like they were even anything other than fuck buddies letting off steam together. There had never been anything but friendship and lust between them. But try telling Steve’s omega that. His nesting had been insane.

It was only by some miracle that Eddie hadn’t been clocked in to Steve’s growing emotions and affections. That he hasn’t seen just how delusional Steve had been for that brief moment when he actually thought, maybe, just maybe, just for once the person he liked might like him back, might see him as something other than a stupid, used up, good for nothing, filthy, dirty, worthless—

“Look, I’m not an idiot, okay?” Steve snapped out, flushing not just in anger this time but also embarrassment and shame at the way his eyes suddenly grew wet. He blinked rapidly, his fingers digging into his biceps. “I knew what it was and what it wasn’t. I know it was just sex for Eddie, okay?”

Steve huffed out at Gareth’s suddenly blank expression, pleased that he had at least gotten the jackass to shut the fuck up and stop stinking the place up with his pissed off alpha pheromones. He deeply sighed, moving his sunglasses to hook in the collar of his shirt to run a hand through his hair before glaring at Gareth who had moved a couple steps to the side. Putting more distance between them maybe?

“I know that someone like Eddie and someone like me would never actually happen,” he muttered, and putting it into words with someone else had the bone deep aches from the sickness sending another wave of pain.

“What do you mean, ‘someone like Eddie,’” the bassist scoffed, his hackles rising, though he exchanged looks across the garage with Jeff. Gareth sneered as well, but there was also a shrewdness in his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he took in more of Steve’s scent.

Steve rolled his eyes, throwing up a hand in frustration. He didn’t know why he was even still here, why he was trying to defend or justify himself, but his omega was telling him that these were his alpha’s packmates and thus deserved the truth.

“Like I said, I’m not an idiot,” he reluctantly said. “Eddie is…Eddie’s…” Steve huffed at himself next, scrubbing his hand over his eyes at the prickly feeling of fresh tears. He normally wasn’t much of a crier, but the hormones affecting him from the rejection sickness had him closer to blubbering at all hours of the day more than he would like.

Worse even than when it had cut through him after Nancy.

“Eddie is brilliant, okay?” he finally managed to get out, even if he was annoyed at needing to say this at all. He wished he could have just dropped the book off and left. “He’s so much braver than he gives himself credit for, he’s amazing with the pups, he’s creative and smart and and considerate and kind and probably one of the best people I’ve ever known. He’s a goddamn hero, whether he wants to believe it or not.”

Though these three had no idea what Eddie had gone through, not truly, they did know that there was more to the story than they had been told. Steve had always been quite vocal about talking about how amazing Eddie had been for the trial, and though he had to flub some of the details, everything he said had been true. Eddie was a hero, even if Eddie himself always denied that.

“And he’s hot,” Steve couldn’t help adding, with another small flush of embarrassment. “He has those stupid doe eyes that you want to spill all your secrets to, and that stupid grin that’s larger than his face, and the stupid way that even when he can’t seem to sit still, his entire focus is on you when you talk…”

Steve scoffed, ashamed of how wet it sounded, and rolled his eyes as he once more wrapped both arms tightly around himself. “And then there’s me. The asshole. The douchebag extraordinaire. The bully. The slut whose only redeeming quality is how easy of a lay I am and daddy’s money, which, by the way, I’m probably being cut off from soon, so really, what else do I have to offer except a used up pussy half the town has been in?” he sneered.

His self-hatred was probably a little too obvious with that, and he didn’t know why he said all of that anyways. Probably it had just been festering away inside of him with no one to unload on, at least no one who wouldn’t try to soothe him and lie to him and say that he wasn’t any of those things.

And yeah, maybe saying he’d slept with half the town was an exaggeration, but he had probably slept with at least half the chicks (and some of the guys) in high school, no matter their designation.

The problem was that Steve’s omega craved human connection. He never really had it growing up, his alpha father too focused on everything wrong with Steve and his beta mother too focused on making certain her husband didn’t stray to inbetween an omega’s legs…again. So Steve found physical comfort where he could, even if it meant opening thighs or mouth for anyone who shot him an interested look.

And then there was Eddie. Eddie, who never treated Steve like something shameful. Eddie, who had admitted he was wrong about Steve, even if Steve didn’t think he had been. Eddie, who even in rut had checked in on Steve and made certain he felt safe and unharmed. Eddie, who for a short amount of time almost made Steve feel good enough.

Which was the problem. Because Eddie didn’t mean it the way that Steve wanted him to, didn’t see Steve as anything other than a friend he could conveniently get off with, an omega who would never form attachments or come up with unrealistic ideas about them.

Except Steve thought he had probably been attached even before Eddie’s rut. Had too many ideas that were beyond unrealistic; they were straight up impossible. Eddie would never want Steve the way that Steve wanted Eddie.

Not when he had someone like Paige waiting for him, not when he had a future ahead of him outside of this stupid town. Steve couldn’t trap Eddie into a life he never wanted.

“So, what, you broke it off because Eddie doesn’t love you?” Jeff finally asked, his voice sounding odd and a bit louder than necessary. Steve wished he’d shut up. “You’re a used up slut of an omega with no redeeming qualities so obviously Eddie would never want to actually be with you outside of sex because he’s such a great guy and you’re not, is that it?”

Steve didn’t know why Jeff was repeating what Steve had said like that, but the words still caused him to flinch back slightly to hear someone else say them. He glared at Jeff, even as he had to hastily wipe away a traitorous stray tear that had slipped down his cheek.

“What does any of that matter,” the bassist asked. “Why would that send you into rejection sickness if you know nothing could ever come of this thing you two had? You were just using him for sex too, weren’t you?”

Steve’s frown cut across to the other beta, brow furrowing. Why did he sound weird, like he was leading Steve to say something he absolutely could not say? Not because it wasn’t true, but because it would break his heart to say it out loud.

“Come on, Harrington,” Gareth took up the goading next, taking a predatory step towards Steve who hastily took a step back. “You were just fucking, weren’t you? It didn’t mean anything to you. You were just treating Eddie like some glorified sex toy to get off, admit it. Just after an easy knot.”

“That’s not true,” Steve muttered, ducking his chin down even as he glared at Gareth with all he was worth. “I would never…” He shook his head in frustration. “That’s not how it was.”

“Nah, I think that’s exactly how it was,” Gareth said with a cruel smirk. “Why else would you have dragged him around, using him whenever you needed a good dicking. You got bored of him, isn’t that it? That’s what you said. You had enough of trailer trash like him, your bit of rough and rumble, and so you booted him so you could move on to the next target. What, gonna crawl back to Hagan next?”

Steve jerked back as though slapped. “That’s not true!” he repeated in a louder shout. “I would never use Eddie like that. He’s not trailer trash. He’s better than anyone else in this goddamned town, which is why he has to leave and never look back.”

Gareth smirked, his scent turning pleased, like Steve had said exactly what he wanted to hear. “So you broke up with him because you thought he deserved better?” he mocked, stepping closer again, though this time Steve didn’t budge. He glared furiously at Gareth, his chest heaving with his fury at the boy’s words. “Why the hell would you ever care about trailer trash like him?”

“Because I love him, dammit!” Steve yelled, eyes snapping with all the pent up emotions he never let himself actually feel, and—oh.

It truly did break his heart to say those words aloud. Steve’s face crumpled immediately, all the tears he’d been fighting back now overflowing his eyes spilling down both cheeks.

Even Gareth reacted, taking a step back and further to the side, obviously putting more distance between him and Steve’s distressed omega smell. The other boys shifted uncomfortably, likewise disturbed even without the superior senses to pick up just how much of Steve’s distress and rejection sickness was eating away at him. God, Steve felt so pathetic.

Hastily wiping at his face (not that it mattered as fresh tears continually replaced those wiped away), nose snotty and leaking, Steve glared as much as he could at the three of them. He was so angry, and so hurt, and so resigned to know that this changed nothing.

“Are you happy now?” he spat out, hating how his voice warbled and cracked. “Do you think I’m seriously stupid enough to think I ever had a chance? That I wasn’t anything more than an easy lay for him too? People like me don’t deserve happy endings. Not like Eddie does. He was going to end things anyway so I just did it for him. Assholes,” he muttered, finally turning away to leave because what else was there to say? How much more could he be hurt?

Steve paused. Right.

Turning back around, he bared his teeth as he pointed aggressively at the younger boys, shoulders back and tone once more falling back into the old familiar role of King Steve, even through the tears. “And don’t you lot say shit about this to anybody. Not to Eddie, not to the kids, not even to your fucking grandmas, are we understood?”

Jeff snorted, and Steve hated him more than he ever had for the amused look on his face. “Oh, we won’t say anything. Don’t worry, Stevie.”

Hurt clawed its way back up his throat, jaw quivering at the old familiar nickname, his sickness sending bile he had to rapidly swallow back down. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and wallow and tried to forget the alpha he wanted more than anything to be his and his alone.

Turning back around, Steve shoved his glasses back on his face before wrapped his arms around himself as he made his way back towards his car, fighting back the sobs that wanted to overtake him as he felt the rejection over and over and over again with every step away from his alpha’s pack.

He almost wished he had never met Eddie at all, had never met someone who, for such a short time, made him feel seen and heard and, biggest lie of all, like he was worth something after all.

As if he could ever be more than the bullshit he knew he was.

~

“You get all that?” Gareth asked finally after the three of them watched Steve’s car drive away. He glanced over his shoulder as Jeff moved around the drum set to the camcorder they’d set up to film today’s practice.

Jeff fiddled with the device that had been hiding in plain sight this whole time, the red light indicating it was recording until Jeff switched it off. He pressed another button and the side popped open, allowing him to pull out the vhs with a triumphant wiggle of his brows.

Gareth grinned at the other two with a pleased set to his shoulders, two matching grins meeting his own. “Excellent. After all, we said we wouldn’t say anything to Eddie. Not our fault if he overhears something he wasn’t supposed to when viewing our practice session,” he said with an easy shrug.

“Thank god, because I was sick of his moping. Should we send it overnight express to him now, or let them suffer a little longer?” Jeff laughed, wiggling the vhs in his hand.

“God, I’d say let them suffer because they are going to insufferable after this, but Eddie would skin us alive if we let his omega suffer like that for a moment longer than necessary,” Gareth grimaced, the others wincing in agreement.

“Ugh. And we thought they were bad before,” came the grumbling response, and Gareth could only snort as he glanced at the boy on the bass.

“How soon until they’re pupped up do you think?” Jeff slyly teased.

“After Eddie sees that tape?” Gareth asked with a roll of his eyes. “Same day, Jeffy. Same fucking day.”

Still, Gareth knew they were all three pleased for their friend, and as they ended practice early to get the tape sent out as soon as possible, he had the distinct feeling that when they left town in a few days, Steve would be with them.

-

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Promised tag: @katyawriteswhump

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Master List

Wing Man: (AO3) Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. COMPLETE

Rating: T+

Current Word Count: 88k words

Tags: Strangers to friends to lovers, no use of y/n, reader is not described, weirdo!reader, rocky horror picture show, Flight of Icarus compliant, Steve and Reader are best friends, implied Upside Down but it's fine

Chapter 1 You are sick of seeing Steve striking out, so you come up with a solution that could work for both of you.

Chapter 2 You and Steve go hang out at the Palace Arcade with a bunch of high school students and pit two against each other in air hockey.

Chapter 3 You really should be trying to flirt, but somehow you and Eddie can only ever talk about Chris Morrison.

Chapter 4 Well, the arcade was a bust, but maybe going to a local dive bar and listening to music will yield better results.

Chapter 5 Ranting about Ozzy Osbourne counts as flirting, right?

Chapter 6 What DID he mean by five? The second meeting.

Chapter 7 Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

Chapter 8 Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.

Chapter 9 You and Eddie go on your first date, but the past always lingers

Chapter 10 It’s no longer Halloween, but the ghosts from yours and Eddie’s pasts are coming back to haunt you.

Chapter 11 Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

Chapter 12 You go to your audition, but things never go as planned.

Chapter 13 You remember.

Chapter 14 Corroded Coffin audition with Paige, and you take more than one risk.

Chapter 15 Everyone prepares for take off. The final chapter.

Epilogue Corroded Coffin takes flight, and you’re on air.

Post Credits Post Credit Scene

[munsonkitten]

you're the only place that feels like home

by deadratz

sub Eddie week day 3: Brat Eddie

explicit | 9.2k words | read on AO3

tags: daddy kink, sub Eddie, brat Eddie, dom Steve, spanking, butt plugs, Eddie in a dress, lingerie, rockstar Eddie, road crew Steve, possessive Steve, top Steve, bottom Eddie, anal sex, post-canon, flight of icarus compliant

summary:

Eddie belongs to the crowd right now.

The crowd belongs to Eddie.

Steve just needs to wait, watch as his boyfriend acts like a slut for nearly twenty thousand people, watch as Eddie soars, his fingers dancing on his guitar, as he wails into his microphone.

He watches from his spot side stage, and he waits. He waits until the moment he needs to reclaim Eddie, and not a moment later.

-

Corroded Coffin are at the top of the world. Eddie needs Steve to bring him back down.

[waywardrose]

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY 24

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated e

5.6k

spotify playlist

for @punk-in-docs​​​

fem/witch/goth!reader, sweetheart!eddie, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, chasing, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, magical violation, mental torture, body horror, blood, aftercare, nightmares, strict parenting, panic attack, past child abuse and abandonment, semi-public sex, break-ups, running away, guns, fist fighting, everyone survives, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird? Weird weird? He shrugged. He liked weird. In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Idk if the Cali group arrives in Hawkins on Saturday or Sunday. I'm going with Saturday. If that's wrong, well, this fic isn't canon compliant anyway. Also, Unnamed Freak (aka Dave) has a canon name now with Flight of Icarus: Dougie. I've corrected this entire fic on all platforms. If I've missed a "Dave" somewhere, please tell me. 🖤

24

The phone rang, jolting you from your research. On reflex, you stretched across the spread of opened spell books for the phone on the nightstand. Then you remembered you weren’t at home. You sat on the bed in one of Steve’s guestrooms.

When he didn’t ask you to answer the phone, you straightened and found where you’d left off. The ringing ceased, then Steve’s voice drifted through the open door. At one time, it would’ve been an annoyance. Now, it reminded you that you weren’t alone. You had people who knew you for who you were and weren’t wary of your abilities.

Last night, Robin had stayed through dinner and Back to the Future. Working at Family Video had its perks, because there was a waitlist to rent it. Robin and Steve had talked through the entire movie, asking about you and sharing about themselves, but you hadn’t minded. You learned that ‘Scoops’ was Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream parlor. It must be a Midwestern chain, because you’d never heard of it.

Robin bragged Steve had slung so much ice cream, they had to put in special orders. Steve shrugged, all bravado, yet his flushed cheeks belied his cool demeanor.

“You should’ve seen some of the girls who came in,” Robin had said, face reverent. “They must’ve come from Fort Wayne or Indy—”

Eyes wide, Steve had interrupted. “Yeah, they weren’t local, that’s for sure.”

You’d glanced at him, then at Robin. He’d tried to divert the conversation. Maybe to protect her? That had made no sense until you remembered you were in the Midwest, where homosexuality — or even bisexual tendencies — was anathema.

To Robin, you asked with a sly look: “That hot, huh?”

“God, I could barely keep eye con—” She curled her lips between her teeth, but rallied. “I mean, they were, like, super intimidating.”

You grinned with a minute shake of your head.

“No, I get it. Girls are hot.”

“Yeah…” she breathed, eyes going glassy. “Girls are hot.”

The conversation had paused as George confronted Biff on screen. When George and Lorraine walked away together, you’d reached for your drink and glimpsed Steve holding Robin’s hand. He noticed you noticing and opened his mouth to speak. You stopped him with an understanding look.

“So, is there a girl at school you like?” you’d asked before taking a sip.

Robin glanced at Steve, who’d offered an encouraging shrug. She’d smiled, giddy and love-struck, and gushed about Vickie. According to Robin, she looked like Molly Ringwald, but even cuter. Vickie was talented and funny and smart. Steve insisted Vickie was into her despite what they’d seen at The War Zone. Robin waved it away, saying Vickie had a boyfriend. It was a lost cause. She’d pine from afar.

You’d said, “Well, not necessarily. She could be bi.”

“I don’t know? It doesn’t seem likely.” She’d gnawed on her bottom lip. “I would normally say that’s ridiculous, because this is Hawkins, but—” She gestured at herself.

You’d narrowed your eyes playfully.

“You could still win fair maiden’s heart.”

Steve laughed. “You sound like Munson.”

“What can I say? He’s rubbed off on me.”

Robin had snorted. “Yeah, I bet that’s not the only thing he’s done.” You’d giggled even as your face heated. You grinned now thinking about it.

Knuckles rapped on the doorjamb. Steve stood in the doorway, the sleeves of his teal henley pushed up his forearms. His perfectly tousled hair framed his face, his jeans showed off the goods, and his Nikes were clean.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, lookin’ good.”

He put a hand on the back of his head and looked down as if bashful. Like he didn’t know how handsome he was.

You asked, “Going somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah, that was Nance on the phone. She wants to donate some stuff at the school, and I offered her a lift. I think I’m going to volunteer while I’m there, too. You know, whatever they need.”

“That’s…” You first thought ‘surprising,’ but that was insulting. “That’s really generous of you.” You glanced at your suitcase overflowing with clean laundry. “Actually, I bet I have a few things someone else could use.”

“Oh, wow, sure.” He nodded. “You wanna come with?” He waggled a hand. “I mean, I know you’re not ready, but I was going to call Robin and Dustin. See if they wanna join.”

“I want to, but I can’t. I need to heal Lucas and Max.” You gestured to all the opened books. “That’s what I’m researching.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

He pointed at his left eye.

“Wouldn’t everything be a little easier if you had both?”

“Probably, but Max is worse than I am, so…” You looked at the books. “I can manage.”

He surprised you a second time when he said, “It’s hard to take that ‘put your own oxygen mask on first’ advice, but you should consider it.”

You met his earnest eyes.

“I will.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. You should be the guinea pig before you sprung a healing spell on Lucas or Max. While you were certain a healing spell would never harm, that didn’t mean it would be effective.

Marking your place in the book you’d been reading, you eased off the bed. You knelt in front of your suitcase to pick out a few pairs of socks, a free promo t-shirt you wore when cleaning, and a pair of tartan trousers you hadn’t worn since moving.

There was more at home you’d be happy to donate. You realized you could drop in after healing Max to pick up more — as long as your parents hadn’t returned.

When Steve stopped at your door, you handed over the clothes and told him of your plan. He brightened with a nod. You jokingly assured him not all your clothes were black and scary.

He lifted the stack of clothes.

“Just most of them.”

You laughed as he smiled at you.

He stepped back and said he was leaving, adding he’d leave the spare key on the foyer console. You thanked him and wished him luck before he skipped down the stairs.

As the front door snicked closed, you plucked the book from the bed and found a white tea-candle in your magic supplies. After placing both on the en-suite bathroom counter, you flipped on the light. With a deep inhale, you found your center. Time to be a guinea pig. You opened the book and lit the candle.

Holding your fingertips above the flame, you said, “Magic mend as candle burns; Affliction end and health returns.”

You brought your warmed fingers to the dark, tender bruise on your jaw and repeated the chant. Your skin heated almost to the point of pain. You closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling. Tendrils of cooling energy twisted through your flesh. You shivered and breathed through it.

Once the tendrils dissipated, you opened your eyes and withdrew your fingers. The bruise was gone. You wiggled your jaw, then put pressure where the bruise had been to find it recovered. Like Jason had never punched you.

That was one injury — and the lesser of the two.

You slipped the pressure patch from your eye and examined your reflection. The cursed eye was like any other injury, you rationalized. Surgeons removed damaged bits of the eye all the time. You were no surgeon, of course. You weren’t removing damage; you were healing it. That was different.

You couldn’t psych yourself out, though. It was like making the Creel house go unnoticed on Thursday. Size didn’t matter. Hence, the extent of the injury didn’t matter. It was all the same and all connected. There was plenty of energy in the candle, in the spell, in the universe, and in you to heal this.

You took a few deep breaths before holding your fingertips above the flame and reciting the chant. You closed your eyes as warm energy gathered. You brought your fingers to your left eye, swallowed the mounting tension in your throat, and repeated the chant.

Your fingers went numb. Heat radiated from your eye like needles of fire. Lightning burned under your skin. The floor left your feet. Or your feet left the floor. You couldn’t find the counter. You couldn’t move or think or orient yourself.

You clawed at the dark like a panicked animal. Red flashed across your vision. Rotting vines slithered across every surface, growing thicker. Their musty, sour smell invaded your nose. Your heartbeat thundered through the room. Red flashed again. A figure made of sharp edges and pain moved behind the vines. You stepped back. They stepped back. You reached forward. They reached forward. You screamed at them. Their mouth opened as though mocking you.

You charged forward to thrust your hand between the vines. Your palm hit cold glass. You met the figure’s eyes. They were your own.

You stumbled away. Your back slammed into something hard. Each blink of your eyes tore you through different realities. The gray Upside Down, your sunny reality, glowing lava fields, a silent city made of slate, a world full of unvoiced secrets, neon lights and the scent of stale beer. Time curved in on itself. No future, no past. On and on it flowed until you yelled for it to stop, stop, stop.

The soft bathmat cushioned your calves. You held onto the counter edge with your forehead pressed against the wood cabinet. The side of your nose filled the left border of your vision.

The spell hadn’t worked.

“Shit.”

You hauled yourself to your knees and braced your elbows on the counter. Thin tracks of blood ran down your reflection’s left cheek.

“Shit.”

You stood and bent over the sink to examine closer in the mirror. The cursed eye didn’t look any worse. Its milky pupil and iris were the same as before. Rheumy blood flaked under your touch.

If the spell hadn’t worked for you, you doubted it would work for Max. She’d taken part of the curse, the same as you. Your eye wasn’t only injured. It stood to reason her arm wasn’t only broken. Then you remembered both her eyes looked like your left.

This was more complex than any healing spell could manage—

Which you said to Lucas after mending his swollen cheek and eye.

From behind him, Erica asked, “Can’t you kill this son of a bitch already?”

You glanced over her shoulder at Susan, who slept on the alcove couch.

“I don’t know if a spell would reach him.”

Lucas turned to Erica.

“And if she kills him, she could kill Max.”

You frowned.

“Why do you think that?”

“El said she couldn’t find Max,” he said, tapping his temple.

He’d explained when you’d first arrived the other members of the party were back in town. On Thursday, El had fought Vecna by connecting to Max’s mind, while Vecna was also connected to Max. El then said Vecna had roared in pain and disintegrated into smoke in his own mindscape. Nancy had connected that to her shooting him and Robin Molotov-ing him.

El had seen Max unconscious in Lucas’s arms afterwards. She felt Max’s steady heartbeat then. Max’s heart continued to beat, which the EKG confirmed. However, El entered Max’s mind this morning to find a void.

“You think she’s with Vecna?” you asked.

Erica said, “Or she’s brain-dead.”

Lucas’s face became a mask of absolute anguish.

“Harsh,” you said to her.

Erica shrugged in lieu of saying it was a possibility. It might be, but you didn’t want to give up hope just yet. Lucas returned to the bedside chair to page through The Talisman. There had to be something you could do or something you could offer.

Erica cursed under her breath and went to Susan. After Erica repeated Susan’s name and shook her shoulder numerous times, she woke with a grumble. Erica announced it was two o’clock. Susan blinked in sullen confusion. Erica said Susan had work at four.

Susan’s voice was hoarse when she said, “O-of course. Thank you.”

Erica backed away as Susan coughed with a wince and sat up. She sounded like shit. Her pallid face looked more tired than yesterday.

You asked, “Would you like some water?”

Her drowsy eyes settled on you.

“Oh, you’re back.” She couldn’t seem to muster a smile, but she looked pleased. “It’s good to see you.”

Without waiting for an answer, you went to the squat pitcher and disposable cups on the overbed table and poured her some cool water. Her hands trembled as she took the cup from you, but she managed drinking half the water in one go. That appeared to revive her, and you offered her more.

She nodded with a soft, “Yes, please.”

As you filled her cup, you thought of a quick blessing. She needed strength to see this situation through. For all you knew, she might be the key to bringing Max back, because despite what Erica said, you didn’t think Max was brain-dead.

By the time Susan finished the water, her green eyes had brightened. She stood, fluffed her hair, and straightened her rumpled clothes. She announced she was going back to the motel to shower and change before work, and if anything happened, to give her a call.

You, Lucas, and Erica promised. Susan nodded to herself and hooked her purse over her shoulder. She went to Max, righted one of her braids, and murmured something to her. She hesitated a second, taking a quick look around, before leaving the room.

You placed the pitcher on the overbed table and threw Susan’s cup in the bathroom wastebasket. The tense silence made you aware of every noise you made, from the swish of the wastebasket liner to the crinkle of your clothes and faint footsteps. Rhythmic squeaking of wheels came from the corridor.

Watching the EKG display, you thought of something you could do:

“I can look for Max, too. I don’t have El’s powers, of course, but Max and I, we’re connected.” You shook your head. “I… I might have a better chance of finding her or finding a clue to get her back.”

Lucas asked, “Are you sure?”

“What if Vecna’s got her, and he takes you?” Erica leaned her elbows on the overbed table. “Then we’re down a magic-user — and we need as many as we can get.”

“He can’t get me here. He tried before and he failed.”

“But you died.”

“And yet, here I am, talking to you.”

“Died.”

You threw out your hands. There was no arguing that fact. Yes, you had died. Yes, Vecna’s curse had killed you. Nevertheless, you were alive. Also, Vecna was wounded.

Lucas asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I don’t know? Connect with her somehow?”

You thought of psychometry. Through touch you’d seen Eddie’s past. Perhaps through touch you could see Max’s. If you could see when the curse hit her from her point of view, maybe that would show you how to get her back.

“Maybe I can’t communicate with her,” you said. “But I might be able to see how Vecna took her.”

“Then you could reverse his steps.”

“Something like that, sure.”

Lucas sighed in thought, tapping his fingers on the book. He came to a conclusion before looking at you.

“It’s worth a shot.”

Erica huffed in disapproval and retreated to the couch.

You propped a hip on the bed, facing Max. Her delicate fingers curled over the cast. You tucked your hand around them and closed your eye.

Unlike with Eddie, you didn’t have to tell Max to relax and trust you. You loosened your shoulders, breathing deep. You focused on her hand, the stillness of her fingers and the fine skin of her knuckles.

The room went cold. Ambient noise disappeared. The mattress sagged under your weight.

Max’s grip tightened.

You opened your eyes. The pressure patch was gone — as was Max’s cast. She stared at you through milky eyes in a younger face. Her now-smaller hand held fast to yours.

The world went wound-red and drained of life. Only you and she remained in the room. No leaves grew on the trees outside. A motionless, stormy sky hovered close. You were in a frozen, bloody version of your world, like a paused horror movie.

“I can’t sleep,” said Max.

“You’re sleeping in our world.”

“What? How?”

“This isn’t your world.”

“Am I dreaming?”

You hadn’t considered that. She could be dream-walking. If she were, why would she choose this? Why would she be younger?

You said, “I don’t know, but you need to leave this place.”

“You mean I need to wake up?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I can’t. I can’t switch back. I don’t know how.” She frowned. “Where’s El?”

“I don’t know.”

Instinct kept you from telling her El had been at the hospital to visit her earlier in the day. This younger Max could be an illusion. You could be talking to Vecna. Or Vecna could be listening.

“How did you get here?” you asked.

“I was fighting Vecna, and he threw me. Everything went dark.”

“And then?”

“And then I woke up in the goddamn Upside Down.”

You examined the room, noticing how much differed from what you’d seen through the tumbler.

“You sure this is the Upside Down?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s red, and where are the vines? The lightning? The demo-creatures?”

From nowhere, an invisible force pushed you backwards. Your foot skidded across the floor. You held onto Max’s hand. She bent forward to stay with you, then struggled to her knees. Your hip dropped off the crumbling mattress. You gripped the edge of the tattered sheets until they tore.

Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

“Don’t go!”

“I’m trying!”

But there was nothing to fight against.

You met her panicked gaze.

“We’ll find you! Wherever you are, we’ll find you!”

Your heel hit the floor. You lost your hold on Max’s hand. She screamed your name, crawling to the end of the bed. You pitched backwards, your heel the focal point. For a second, it felt like flying.

You landed hard on your side. Your ears rang. Like Dorothy landing in Oz, the world bloomed in technicolor. The pressure patch was back. Hands rolled you onto your back. Above you, Lucas and Erica blurred and sharpened. Their mouths moved, but their voices couldn’t overpower the ringing. You touched Lucas’s shoulder to confirm you’d returned.

The room dimmed. Shadows deepened. The three of you paused.

Red light flared through the window. Thunder vibrated the glass, restoring your hearing. You froze. You’d brought the Upside Down — or wherever you’d been — with you. Any second, those rotting vines would slither over the walls, the floor, Max’s bed.

Lucas helped you sit. Erica peered at the window on the other side of the bed. The clouds darkened further. When the vines didn’t appear, you used the bedframe to hoist yourself to your feet. Erica went to the window first, Lucas right behind her. You followed them, keeping to the shadows. You dared not look at any reflective surface, lest that sharp-edged figure look back.

Red lightning cut through the iron gray tower of smoke now spewing from the mega-gate’s nexus. Deafening thunder shook your bones. Warmth quaked in your gut a second later, silver and true. It filled the emptiness that had settled days ago.

-

Pitch black surrounded him. He lay on ice — or something like it. It curved around the back of his bare arms, cooled his body numb. So numb he couldn’t move. And he needed to move. There was work to do, someone to find, wrongs to right. Too much had gone wrong in the world. Too many injustices to name. He could make it right. He could help, gather, hunt.

Blood hung in the air. Screeches echoed through his mind, a hungry call for vengeance. Vines pulsed with wrath. The Source promised a righteous purpose larger than himself. The Source was a kindred soul: misunderstood, rejected, and enraged by the world’s hypocrisy. They were misfits together.

And there was no need to be frightened of anything anymore.

He searched the dark, his fingers not offering the answers he needed. He moved his legs and found the curve of the surface he lay on. Raising a foot, his toe bumped into something hard and smooth inches above. He let his heel fall as he walked his hands across the surface. He pulled it down his body. Whatever he was on moved instead.

He walked his hands above his head to find more of the same smooth surface. To his left were round protrusions, like bolts. Yes, he thought, bolts. Bolts meant hinges. Hinges were weak points.

More bolts were on the right. That was the hinge. The left was the handle. Handles were weak points, too.

He placed his palm on the handle bolts.

The Source said he could free himself. Something as mundane as this wouldn’t injure him.

He slammed the heel of his palm below the bolts. The handle rattled. He struck a second time. The handle whined. He struck again. The handle clanged in the background. He waited for someone to come investigate — police, a guard, even an assistant. He pushed the hatch open and waited a few minutes more. It was nominally brighter beyond, yet there was enough light to see he lay on a metal drawer.

He pulled himself through the portal. The drawer rumbled. Still, no one came. All around the portal were similar metal doors with chrome latch handles. He recognized it for the morgue it was.

He’d been dead. He was dead.

The Source contradicted the thought, saying everyone had mistaken him for dead. They’d not looked close enough. They’d abandoned him. They’d thrown him away. Only Source accepted him and had seen him for the valuable individual he’d always been.

He sat and scooted up the drawer to maneuver his legs out. The skin on his torso pulled. He looked down and gagged. Lines of black stitches or patches of missing flesh disfigured his chest and stomach. He touched the flap of skin on a patch on his right side. It should’ve hurt—

Nothing hurt.

He should’ve been cold. He’d been in a refrigerated box for who knows how long, but he wasn’t.

The Source assured him he was beyond pain.

His right calf and left thigh had been gnawed on, too. Someone had attempted to repair the damage with more black stitches. Those injuries didn’t pull like his torso.

That hardly mattered, though. He needed to leave— wherever the fuck he was. He needed clothes for that, because he was very, very naked. Making anything right usually required covering your ass.

He slipped off the drawer, landing on feet that didn’t feel like his own. His legs wobbled. Every wound protested as he straightened. The skin stretched little by little until he could stand.

A shelving unit stacked with linens stood by the main door. He found a scrub top and held it up. His bare hands felt as naked as the rest of him. That wasn’t how it should be. He only took off— No, he hadn’t taken off anything. He was supposed to see someone. They were waiting— No, no one was waiting for him. Everyone thought he was useless — and dead.

He was forgetting someone— No, they’d forgotten him. He touched his upper chest. Something should be there. They’d stolen something from him.

Yes, someone had taken something from them. He needed to find this person— No, wait for this person. They had an essential component in Source’s plan, and he had to capture it.

-

“Something’s changed,” you said.

“Uh, yeah,” said Lucas, pointing towards the window. “The Upside Down is invading Hawkins.”

You shook your head.

“No, I feel the pull of something.”

You didn’t want to say you felt the silver flame of Eddie’s energy for the first time in days. That sounded hokey even to yourself. If the emptiness — which had to have been Eddie — was filled, it meant Eddie was alive. You couldn’t desert him. You had to find him.

Erica said, “You can’t go now.”

Lucas nodded.

“The party doesn’t separate.”

“Even if it’s for a member of the party?”

“Who is it?”

“I think it’s Eddie.”

“What about Max?” he asked. “Did you find her?”

With a nod, you explained the paused, red world where Max couldn’t sleep. Max thought she was dreaming, but you weren’t sure it was her dream. You theorized it was an illusion to keep her stuck. There had to be something to get her unstuck. She wanted to switch back, but she didn’t know how.

“She exists in two worlds,” you said. “Her body in ours, her mind in another.”

“Or in Vecna’s mind.”

“We have to unite her,” said Erica.

“She asked where El was, but I didn’t tell her. Because I don’t know, and because I didn’t want Vecna finding out.” The pull of Eddie being alive nagged at your consciousness, and you shook your head. “Look, I can’t stay. I gotta find Eddie.” You grabbed your purse from where you’d left it by the door. “Guard Max. Hide her, if you have to.”

Erica and Lucas shared a look.

“We can do that,” he said.

You gave them a nod before leaving the room. Eddie’s energy drew you outside. Though you didn’t understand, you took the service stairs down. Hospital personnel pushed open doors and passed you on the stairs without questioning you.

While the first-floor corridors bustled with people and staff, a hushed tension overlaid every conversation. You swerved around anxious groups of two or three and the occasional thousand-yard-stare loner.

Outside, the scent of smoke and hot ozone had your eyes near burning and your nose on the verge of running. Ash fell like snow from the low ceiling of the clouds. It disappeared when it touched your skin.

You brought your shirt collar over your nose, then crossed the parking lot to your car. You stowed your purse in the trunk and pocketed the keys. There, you hesitated. If Eddie wasn’t in the hospital, he could be anywhere. Perhaps Wayne had identified him and took him to another hospital. However, there wasn’t another hospital in Hawkins. Maybe he was at a doctor’s office. His wounds might’ve looked worse than they were. That didn’t explain his absence from Indra’s net or his reappearance, though.

You turned to the path that led through the trees at the back of the parking lot. Except for funeral homes, only the hospital and coroner’s office could store dead bodies. If Eddie was in a funeral home, word about it would’ve been everywhere by now.

His energy wasn’t far, yet it was muddled, like poor reception on a TV. You tried getting more of a read on him. Pain lit your nerves, making you back off. You pressed your shirt over the bridge of your nose and breathed deep.

Fine, you thought. The coroner’s office it is.

You had to get yourself worked up. An injured girl near tears could get sympathetic assistance and soothing information. You made your breath shallow and rapid as you marched across the parking lot. You brought to mind every stressor: your father rejecting your every idea, being a stranger in this town, Vecna disfiguring your face after stealing your magic, making mistake after mistake and not finding the strength to get over it or fix it, finding Eddie and losing him all in one night.

Tears rimmed your eyes as you walked under the coroner’s office awning. You righted your shirt and pushed at the door. It clanked in its frame.

“What the hell?”

You caught your breath. Maybe you had to pull it. You tried that, earning another clank.

It was locked. Still.

That was complete bullshit.

Your tears evaporated as you grit your teeth. You would not be kept from him any longer. It didn’t matter if he was alive, dead, or undead. You would see Eddie.

You placed a palm over the deadbolt.

“You are undone,” you whispered to it.

Its screws unwound and fell to the floor. The outside cover tumbled off. The interior mechanism flicked open and teetered in the hole. You encouraged it to drop with a jab.

You swiped the cover from the sidewalk before entering the building. Inside, you gathered the deadbolt pieces and dumped them in a potted plant in the dim waiting room. You went to the empty check-in counter to find the area beyond it vacated and dark, save for the blinking lights of the desk phone.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind the reinforced door to your left. With nowhere to run, you put on an innocent expression and curled your shoulders inward. A guard in fatigues tore back the door while another rushed into the waiting room, guns in hand.

“Hands up!” said the closest guard as the door closed behind them.

You raised your hands as your gaze bounced from one to the other. They both had black armbands with MP decorating the side. Military police. Your hunch yesterday about the Humvees had been correct.

“How did you get in here?”

“The front door?” You glanced at it. “The lock’s gone.”

“State your business.”

“I can’t find my-my parents.” You didn’t have to force any nervousness with two guns pointed at you. “They’re not at the hospital. And… and-and the ER told me to check he-here.”

The MPs scowled.

A frenzy of banging and clanging came from behind the door. The MPs turned from you with guns at the ready. You took a step back, heart in your throat.

What were they keeping back there?

The door flew off its hinges, springing off the linoleum by its corner. It ricocheted and crashed into an MP, who toppled to the floor. The door landed to cover his top half. His gun skidded into the waiting room.

“Back away!” yelled the remaining MP. “Hands up!”

You turned your attention away from the gun, thinking he yelled at you. Rather, his attention was on the person in the doorway.

You almost didn’t believe your eyes. You’d expected a demogorgon or some other sort of hellish creature. It was neither. It was Eddie. Unmistakable, even backlit by the severe hallway light. His usually wild hair hung limp around his face. Green scrubs had replaced his clothes.

Eddie hissed at the MP and stomped onto the collapsed door. The MP underneath bleated in protest.

If he kept on like this, he was going to be shot.

“Eddie?”

He turned his focus on you, his blank expression so unlike himself.

The MP shouted, “I said, hands up!”

Eddie’s eyes had you taking another step back. They were like your left: cursed. His skin was waxen like the dead. A tag hung from his big toe. You didn’t know who this was, but he wasn’t your Eddie. He felt like him, looked like him, had his silver flame, but he wasn’t Eddie.

The door was less than a yard away. You could make it out before anyone would reach you. Once outside, you could dash to your car — or lead Eddie away from the hospital.

You pivoted on one foot. A cold body plowed into yours. Hands grabbed your upper arms. The check-in counter dug into your back. Eddie reared up over you.

He’d moved too fast to be natural. In comparison, the MP turned in slow motion.

Eddie pulled the pressure patch down your face.

With a pleased look, he said, “Ah, I see you’re half ours already.”

His breath smelled of old blood.

“Eddie, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Have you join us?”

He leaned in to drag his nose over your cheek, inhaling as he went. You closed your eyes and pinched your mouth shut. His dry, cracked lips skipped up your cheek.

“Pretty, pretty witch.”

“Show me your hands,” ordered the MP.

“Should I let him shoot me?” Eddie asked you.

“Don’t shoot,” you called over his shoulder. “He’s… He’s not hurting me.”

Eddie hummed in your ear. “Take me to Max.”

You couldn’t let him get his hands on her. He’d take her to Vecna. If Vecna had you, Max, and Eddie — all cursed in one manner or another — it would be a recipe for destruction. He’d drain you like a vampire, sacrifice Eddie, and use Max as a pawn. Or maybe something even worse. You couldn’t let any of that happen.

You arched away to look into Eddie’s cursed eyes, so much like your own. You’d tear Vecna limb from limb for this. Apart from El, only you had power enough to destroy him. And you could with the Eradix spell you’d found on Thursday.

“Step away from the girl!”

Eddie snarled and turned his head like a predator. He released your arms before you could protest. You reached for his shirt to keep him with you. Your fingers grasped air.

A triple pop of gunfire had you hunching and covering your head. The waiting room window shattered. A gust of smoke and ash poured into the building. Boots shuffled across the floor. The MP grunted as something clattered.

You wanted to look, make sure Eddie hadn’t been shot, but you needed to get out of there. A wet gurgle and grind turned your stomach. You scurried to the main door, pulling it open. Wind dragged the door from your hand. It thudded against the wall.

With a flinch, you peeked over your shoulder. Eddie stared back. Blood dripped down his chin. The MP hung slack from his hands.

Everything narrowed.

Then everything sharpened as you steadied the main door and sprinted to the street.

[hawkinsleather]

The Ballad of Eddie Munson’s Battle Vest

by hawkinsleather

art link / playlist

Word Count: 16,713

Chapters: 5/5 (completed)

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Ronnie Ecker & Eddie Munson, Al Munson & Eddie Munson

Character: Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Ronnie Ecker (Stranger Things), Al Munson

Tags: Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, this is set in 1978, Eddie Munson & Ronnie Ecker are best friends, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Al Munson is not a good dad, Flight of Icarus references, Child Abandonment, complicated father son relations, a whole lotta music references, love is stored in the biscuit tin that's actually full of sewing supplies

Summary:

"Thought you'd like to make one of those cut off vests I've seen your heavy metal heroes wear. I need a new jacket, so I thought you could use my old one. You just need to cut the sleeves off," he lifts the jacket up by the shoulders. "An' Benny donated his old shirt for the back." Eddie knows Wayne likes to make do and mend, find new use for old things, never throw away anything that's still functional in some way, and he does not mind a second hand present that's a work in progress. He likes to do things with his hands. There's just one big problem with this one. "Thank you, Wayne," he hugs the older man. "But I don't know how to sew," he continues as he lets go of his uncle and looks at him with his big sad puppy dog eyes. - - - - It’s Eddie’s 13th birthday and his Uncle Wayne has a special present for him with some assembly required, and he’s going to teach him how to do it. But first Eddie has some plans with his best friend Ronnie.

Beta Read by: sarasmiling & cheesbeurger

art by: artbean

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

you keep me up at night

by deadratz

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 04, Eddie Munson Lives, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Sleepy Kisses, Sharing a Bed, Smoking, Drinking, Late Night Conversations, Coming Out, Getting Together, Recovery, Nightmares, Cuddling, Comphet Eddie Munson, flight of icarus compliant Words: 4,700 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Eddie can’t sleep. He blames it on the uncomfortable bed in Steve’s guest room, all the people coming and going at all hours, the nightmares, the pain, the loneliness and fear. Most of all, he blames it on Steve Harrington.

[6-ft-demon]

More Starset wings AU stuff, just personal refs for each person’s wing type/shape and colors. General notes for myself an anyone interested can be found below.

Design notes

Dustin’s wings are inspired by the symbol for their song Icarus (obviously)

Adam’s are based on a Barn Owl, both in shape and color patterns

Brock’s are semi based on a Barn Swallow in shape and color patterns

Ron’s are based on a Philippine Eagle in shape and general color patterns

Cory’s are based roughly on a Stellar’s Jay in shape and color patterns

Zuzky’s are based on the ornamental looks belonging to birds of paradise, and the colors and sheen are based on a Grackle

Siobhan’s are based on a Swan in shape and color

Random AU Notes

Dustin’s wings are artificial, he wasn’t born with them. They’re not meant for super intense or long distance flight, as they weren’t meant to be there in the first place.

At birth a person’s wings won’t be present, but over time they will begin to grow in and fluff out. There is a small minority of people who’s wings never come in, leaving them flightless. Dustin was one of these few, but he longed for flight like everyone else got to enjoy, forcing his hand in creating his own wings and having them installed and wired into his bodily functions.

In order to control his wings, Dustin had to have something called a BMI installed (we all know what that is in Starset lore but shhh this is probably going in a different direction) to link his brain with his wing functions.

The whole of the group are still close friends, but I’m not entirely sure they’re an established band in this world, still gotta figure that out.

Everyone but Dustin was born with their wings, leading to an awkward dynamic at times between them. They manage to keep things together tho.

Still deciding whether this is all compliant to existing Starset lore or if this is its own separate thing entirely (leaning towards the latter tbh, in which case I’d have more freedom with the specifics of the world and how things play out)

Uhhh probably more I’m either forgetting or haven’t decided on yet, so stay tuned for more stuff for this AU.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey! Will go on a 10-day trip soon and I was thinking i would like to save some fics just in case i don t have data over there. Share some longer stories? (also really loving your blog, million heart emojis from me)

Hi Nonny!

Oh gosh, that’s exciting!! I love long trips! And lucky for you I LOVE long fics, because they’re perfect for a long trip! (that and I have SO MANY FICS for 20 to 25 and 25 to 50 that I had to choose one or the other for you, LOL). 

Lucky for you I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to share that very list!! BUT if you prefer some longer fics, check out these past lists I made:

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018) 

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Smut-Free Fics Over 50K (Aug. 2019)

Otherwise, I think these fics will be perfect for your trip! And as always, I sort them by length so if you want longer fics, check out the bottom of the list and work your way up, or just want something that will last you a plane ride or a day of relaxation, check out the top to bottom!

—–

NOVELLA-LENGTH FICS: 25 to 50K w. (Aug 2019)

Among the Secret Things by Kate_Lear for coloredink (E, 26,073 w., 14 Ch. || Angst, Drama, Amnesia) – Sherlock would be the last person to describe himself as given to flights of fancy, but at the look on Lestrade’s face he could swear that something inside him curls up and dies. Part 1 of Among the Secret Things

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Parentlock, Fake Relationship, Mary’s Family, Post-S4, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bed Sharing, Pining, Christmas) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w., 6 Ch. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn't just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That "doctor" actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

Don't Leave Anything Out by lookupkate (E, 27,422 w., 24 Ch. || Letters / Epistolary, Misunderstandings, Angst, Happy Ending, Alternate Meeting, Sherlock in Love, Pining Sherlock) – The first letter John writes home from Afghanistan is meant to go to a woman he went on only one date with. How it ends up in Sherlock's hands is completely innocent. What happens next is not. What do you do when you find out the person you're in love with has been lying about something as monumental as who they are? What do you do when you're the one who lied?How on earth do you put the pieces back together?

Vena Cava by SilentAuror (E, 27,452, 1 Ch. || H/C, Infidelity, Angst, HLV Fix-It, Romance) – Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

Trust Me, Trust Nobody by BlueMoonOnTheRise (T, 27,751 w., 10 Ch. || Kidnapping, Friendship / No Slash, Adventure, Trust Issues) – Whatever he told Mycroft, John trusted Sherlock almost instantly. When a new case shows up - smattered with the usual thrill of danger, death and cool logic - such trust ends up pushed to its very limits...

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

Hellfire by testosterone_tea (E, 28,596 w., 9 Ch. || Fantasy / Magic / Mages / Elementals AU || Mage Sherlock, Elemental John, Developing Relationship, Torture, Powerful / BAMF John, POV Alternating, Dark / Blood Magic, UST, First Kiss) – Sherlock is a Mage that gets involved with a case involving Dark Summoning rituals, leading him to John Watson, a man with Berserker blood. The only thing is, Berserkers have been extinct for centuries. And of course, nothing involving Mycroft and his interfering ways is ever simple. This time, even Sherlock may have bitten off more than he can chew.

An Experiment in Apathy Series by belovedmuerto (G to E, 28,701 w. across 13 stories || Empath John, Empath-by-Proxy Sherlock, Epic Bromance Becomes Romance, Angst, Nightmares, Experiments, Trauma, Dreams) – "No man is an island, John. You less so than most." A sequel to the EiE Series, wherein John and Sherlock explore their relationship.

To be Loved by You by TwisterMelody (M, 28,775 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, H/C, Friends to Lovers, Post-HLV, Infidelity, Character Death) – Too many times they had confessed themselves in the darkness, leaving it there, never to speak of it again.  But this is different.  This love deserves the light of day.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 29,186 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship, Drama, BAMF!John, Emotional Turmoil, Introspection, Harry is in this Fic, Angry John, Happy Ending, Queerplatonic Relationship) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. A revision of the story Mending Icarus.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

M Is For Moriarty by ElvendorkInfinity (T, 29,882 w., 12 Ch. || Suspense, Mystery, Case Fic, Worried Sherlock, No Slash, Whump) – A figure at the end of the hospital bed; a needle in the dark...Moriarty has John, and Sherlock must follow the paper trail through London to find him before time runs out. Sequel to BANG.

"finally kiss the bloody idiot" by Salambo06 (E, 29,812 w., 13 Ch. || Mutual Pining, Declarations of Love, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Misunderstandings, Fantasies POV John) – Inspired by a fic idea on tumblr : "John and Sherlock know the Yard has a pool going for when they’re finally going to get together. It’s been running forever, and it’s worth thousands of pounds. It’s all fun and games, hahaha, until they find out Lestrade is in dire financial straits (dog needs emergency surgery, he’s putting his kid through gymnastics training, I don’t know, something), and they decide to fake a relationship to win the pool for him. Sherlock figures out the day and way that Lestrade thinks it’s going to happen, and they act it out. It’s all for a good cause, fake relationship style, until it’s not." Part 1 of The Pool

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w., 31 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

The Kissing Disease by cottonballz_of_death (E, 30,856 w., 15 Ch. || Sick Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Case Fic, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Jealous Sherlock, Body Image Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional H/C, POV Sherlock, Oral / Anal, Thong, Frottage) – John brings home a boyfriend, shocking Sherlock, who long ago gave up hope that his straight flatmate would ever take a romantic interest in him. In a bid to reconnect with John, he tries to infect himself with a "harmless" virus. Neither of them is prepared for the emotional fallout that results.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Shallow Grave by SilentAuror (E, 31,672 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, HLV Fix It, Infidelity, Pining Sherlock, First Person POV Sherlock) – Starts as Sherlock's plane is taking off at the end of His Last Vow. When he finds out that Moriarty is alive and that he's being recalled from his mission, Sherlock decides that he should have told John how he felt before he left. So he walks off the plane and kisses him.

Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein (T, 31,987 w., 11 Ch. || College/Uni AU || Professor John, Ph.D Student Sherlock, Pining John, Poetry, Falling in Love / Slow Burn, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – John is an English professor who specializes in War and Post-War Literature and Sherlock is the brilliant yet impossible Ph.D. student assigned to be his TA because no one in the Chemistry Department is willing to put up with him. And - somewhere between Waugh and Plath, e-mails and takeaway, novels and villanelles - they fall in love.

Here Comes The Sun by JennLynn77 (E, 32,126 w., 15 Ch. || Post S4/TFP, John Whump, Caring Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Switchlock, Cuddling/Snuggling, Surgery/Injury Recovery, Endearments, Anal, Hand Jobs, Porn with Feels) – John suffers an injury and needs surgery. Sherlock, and those around him, help John recover. Along the way, John and Sherlock realise what they mean to each other, and what they've had together all this time.

The Midas Touch by flawedamythyst (E, 32,231 w., 1 Ch. || Magical Realism, John has a Magical Cock, Dub Con, Healer John) – John Watson has a medical condition that means everyone he sleeps with is instantly healed of all illness and injury. This causes complications when Sherlock breaks his arm, and even more complications when Sherlock falls in love with him. Yes, this is a story where John has a literal magic healing cock. It's a lot less cracky than you're probably imagining. Warning: Contains complex issues of sexual consent, although not between Sherlock and John.

Five Times They Kissed for a Case, and One Time They Kissed for Real by fleetwood_mouse (M, 32,406 w., 6 Ch. || 5+1, Slow Burn, Fluff / Angst, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers) – A stolen ring! An artful blogger! And many more adventures for your enjoyment.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, H/C, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Chaperones by MissDavis (T, 34,114 w., 7 Ch. || 11 Years Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Parentlock, Disney World, Bed / Room Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, First Kiss, Obsessive Sherlock, Insecure John) – Right. Of course. Everyone assumed they were a couple and no one would question it. John put his elbows up on the table so he could rest his head in his hands. "You want to pretend to be a couple so we can chaperone a trip to Disney World with Rosie's class and you won't have to share a room with a stranger?" "Exactly." Sherlock beamed at him. "Don't worry about the cost. The Birmingham case last month paid more than enough to cover expenses for all three of us."

Pater Noster by SilentAuror (E, 34,256 w., 2 Ch. || Case Fic, HLV+, Family Trauma, Sherlock POV, Villain Mary) – During the autumn that John is staying at Baker Street again after Sherlock was shot, he ruminates over the similarity between Sherlock's shot and the one that killed his father when he was fifteen. Cold case meets series 3 fix-it. Part I takes place entirely within His Last Vow, Part II takes place starting at the end of HLV and continues after.

Bedtime Stories by Liketheriver (M, 34,388 w., 1 Ch. || Emotional H/C, Romance, Angst & Humour, Bed Sharing, John First Person, TRF, John Whump) – John's POV during Season 2 and beyond when Sherlock takes up semi-permanent residence in his bed. A collection of codas and missing scenes wrapped up into one long fic and topped with a bow that takes the story beyond Reichenbach and into happy territory once more. Part 1 of Bedtime Universe

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Heavy Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Inexplicable by emmagrant01 (E, 34,664 w., 6 Ch. || Body Swap, TSo3, Magical Realism / Artifacts, Infidelity, Angst) – So what was in that matchbox, anyway? John and Sherlock find out, the hard way.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w., 7 Ch. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts (E, 35,353 w., 7 Ch. || Humour and Angst, Post-TRF, Fake Relationship, UST / RST, Friends to Lovers, Jealous John) – Victor Trevor is in town, and nobody's happy.

The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm (E, 35,663 w., 20 Ch. || Alternating POV, Molly x John [Molly pines for John], Public Sex, Casual Sex, Obliviousness, BAMF!John, Awkwardness, Angst & Humour, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) – Molly sees John in a new light and realises that she may have hitched her horse to the wrong wagon...or something like that. John pines for Sherlock and worries what he will think if he ever finds out. And Sherlock doesn't know what Molly's up to...but he knows he doesn't like it.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

The Boy Who Drank Stars by kinklock (E, 36,157 w., 4 Ch. || Howl’s Moving Castle AU || Witches and Wizards, Slow Burn, Magic, Jealous John, Happy Ending, Bed Sharing) – “I’m looking for a castle,” John informed the scarecrow. “A moving one.”Except that, as it turned out, it was not a moving one at all.

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Malediction by MapleleafCameo (M, 36,680 w., 11 Ch. || Ladyhawke AU || Magical Realism, Romance, Curses, Eventual Happy Ending) – Cursed to a half-life, John and Sherlock must fight the forces of evil to be reunited once again.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won't let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w. , 1 Ch.|| Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn't walked through the park and met Stamford?What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w., 6 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. 'Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there's a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.

Act IV by SilentAuror (E, 39,707 w., 1 Ch. || First Person POV Sherlock, HLV Fix-It, Indifelity, Angst, Drama) – After Sherlock is shot, John moves back into Baker Street. They spend the autumn together as John tries to make sense of his life and make some important decisions about both Mary and Sherlock. Canon-compliant, excerpts from His Last Vow.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn't It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock's forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don't worry, things'll be fine in just seven days.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

The Curious Adventure of the Drs. Watson by ShinySherlock (M, 40,883 w., 14 Ch. || BBC & ACD Fusion || Victorianlock, Time Travel / Magical Realism, Friends to Lovers, Love and Kissing, Romance, Body Swap) – What if ACD Watson and BBC Watson switched places...  “Imposter!” Hands clenching the lapels of John’s coat, Holmes shoved him anew. “Yes!” John agreed, nodding, and then grimacing. “Sort of!”

There's Someone On Your Shoulder by halloa_what_is_this (NR, 41,215 w., 6 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Daydreams, Sherlock Loves John So Much it Hurts) – Sherlock trips and falls head over heels in love, makes a lot of lists and stares, stares, stares.

The Semantics of Crop Circle Formation: a case study by Sherlock Holmes [unpublished] bycanolacrush (M, 41,710 w., 9 Ch. || Sherlock POV, Aliens, Wordplay, Casefic) – “Look at these photographs,” I said, gesturing to the wall of crop circles. “What do you observe?”“Crop circles,” John replied.“Obvious. What else?”“Are…are those intestines surrounding them?” “Yes. The majority are bovine and ovine in origin. The farmers who have acquired these crop circles in their fields have also had a tenth of their livestock murdered and arranged thus.” “Why?” John said, presumably in a rhetorical fashion. I detest rhetorical questions. “That is what I must find out, John.”

Resistivity and Relative Charge by liriodendron (E, 41,770 w., 8 Ch. || Synesthesia, Angst, Case Fic, Romance, Est. Rel., Homophobia, Religious Content, Victor Trevor, Mild Jealous John, Mild John Whump) – In which Sherlock Holmes meets an old acquaintance, John Watson doesn't enjoy a trip to the country quite as much as he thought he would, and the past absolutely refuses to stay where it belongs. Part 3 of Conductivity

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w., 4 Ch. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Mary is Not Nice) – When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w., 1 Ch. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate...

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Bloody But Unbowed by BeautifulFiction (E, 43,211 w., 8 Ch. || Abduction, John Whump, Mild Torture, Background Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Post-TRF / S3 Rewrite, Hurt/Comfort) – When a familiar argument threatens to destroy the last remnants of John and Sherlock's failing friendship, both men are left questioning their worth to one another. Before either of them has the chance to make amends, circumstance intervenes. John is left at the mercy of his abductors, and this time, he's not sure Sherlock will bother coming to his rescue.

The Soul Remembers by i_ship_an_armada (E, 43,636 w., 10 Ch. || Oblivion AU || Post-Apocalypse, Movie Fusion, Science Fiction, Action/Adventure, Angst, Dreams, Bittersweet Ending) – John Watson is the lone security repairman stationed on a desolate, nearly-ruined future Earth. His dreams are plagued by a tall, dark-haired man, and when his dreams meet reality, he will be forced to question everything he believes is the truth about his life.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

Sentenced by SarahKnight (T, 44,777 w., 30 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Alternate S4 Canon, Drama, Angst, Pining, Feelings are Hard) – Virtual series 4 opener. Sherlock's in prison being targeted by a murderer, John's married to a pregnant assassin and Moriarty's back.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w., 9 Ch. || Magical Realism) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

The Real Great Perfumers by shelleysprometheus (E, 45,355 w., 68 Ch. || Case Fic, Alternating POV, Gay Sherlock / Bi John, Canon Compliant with Divergence at TRF, Friends to Lovers, Oral / Anal, Pining, First Kiss / Time, Dev. Rel., Drugging, Body Worship, Bathing, Love Confessions, Travelling, Bottomlock, Cranky Sherlock, BJ’s, Alternating POV, Jealous John) – The case, this case. This extraordinary, fascinating, scintillating case. A house. Designed entirely by its eccentric owner, built by no less than five hundred expert tradesmen in the heart of Marrakesh. A house that had, seemingly not only driven its owner out, but also to his quite unpleasant death. And a perfumer, a chemist no less, the very thought of the secrets that house could reveal, would reveal was irresistible. Sherlock had to have this case ... and it seems, he also had to have John! Part 1 of the Forethought and Fire series

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

The Norwood Love Builders by flawedamythyst (T, 47,798 w., 9 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Slow Burn, Post TRF Angst) – Sherlock and John go undercover to solve the murder of Joanna Oldacre, but things are complicated by the many feelings John has been repressing in the wake of Sherlock's faked death and return.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most.An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete.(This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

Holmes is where the heart is by Rose de Sharon (T, 49,636 w., 13 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Post-TRF, Reunion Fic, Bromance, Empty House Inspired, Adventure) – Three years after the Reichenbach Fall. On the anniversary of Sherlock's death, John pays a visit at 221 B Baker Street… and he gets the shock of his life.

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w., 22 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

A Love with No Name Series by aceofhearts61 (M, 49,955 w. across 20 fics || Ace!Sherlock / Straight!John, Queerplatonic Relationship, Cuddling/Snuggling, Soulmates, Caretaking, Platonic Romance) – In which Asexual!Sherlock and Straight!John are platonically in love life partners.

[clericduck]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Adventure Zone (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Indrid Cold/Duck Newton Characters: Indrid Cold (The Adventure Zone), Duck Newton, Minerva (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, ish, everything is the same but i retconned in a prior indruck relationship, Post-Canon, Minerva/Duck is mentioned for like a sentence and it's describing why they broke up, i needed to write something to distract myself from the emptiness the finale left in me, Songfic, Getting Back Together Summary:

"And if I hear that you'll be in Chicago Then I'll take the first flight tomorrow Confess all the feelings that I've been concealing for years And if you happen to be in the city Then meet me on top of the highest building Darling what else can I lose I already lost you"

- Chicago by The Icarus Account

[wheneverfeasible]

For the WIP game, how about ‘lost.’

Thanks for the tag 💚

Fandom: Stranger Things

Ship: Steddie

The kid didn’t really know the whole story, after all, so it wasn’t like he knew how utterly lost and devastated Steve felt right now, the rejection sickness curling through him in sharp pangs and dull aches.

- from a currently untitled a/b/o WIP that is, I must admit, probably going to be a hurt/no comfort angst

oops

(but I bet you like the angst you sicko)

WIP Guessing Game