#i had eddies part written in my head and sort of what I wanted to write for buck but then I forgot bucks

[kaz2y5baby]

Here we have Eddie Diaz, a half-Mexican firefighter who loves his telenovelas. Sadly for him, his life has turned into a telenovela. He terrorizes the women of LA and while doing so comes across his dead wife's doppelganger. Eddie then proceeds to cause his son, Chris leave him due to said dead wife's doppelganger. His son goes to live with Eddie's parents who Eddie doesn't like very much. While dealing with all this he is going through some heavy catholic guilt for several reasons. One being he slept with an (almost) Nun, and two because he is gay for...

...his best friend Evan "Buck" Buckley. Buck is also a firefighter. He will soon help Eddie get through having his (their) son be away by most likely talking to Chris and at least having come to stay with him. He will then Help Eddie overcome his catholic guilt by kissing him straight on the mouth.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 1

Or: a secret Admirer AU

Less than a month into the school year, and Steve’s already making use of the library. If Mrs. Click could see him now, she’d be proud–until she caught sight of the blank notebook page in front of him and the lack of textbooks on the table. 

He feels stupid; he’s hunched over his notebook, trying to make his thoughts transfer onto the page in any coherent form. But, he’s not like Eddie with his impassioned speeches and clever English papers.

Words flow through Eddie in fully-formed, concrete ideas. For Steve, it’s more of a drip. Each word has to be scaffolded onto the previous one with blood, sweat, and tears. Even then, it’s never quite right. Too abrupt, never what he was actually trying to say.

He’s just never been good with words.

By the time he gives up, there’s more crossed out than left written, so he gets a clean page of paper and transcribes it as best he can. He’s left with:

       Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?

Steve tears it from his notebook and lays it flat atop his table in the library, smoothing out any crinkles in the page. It feels like the start to something, sure, but there’s more blank space on the page than words. By a lot.

He leans back over his work, adds a little wonky heart in his blue pen and signs the whole thing—

       ❤ your secret admirer

—the way all the girls who leave notes in his locker do. Their notes are usually on pretty paper, written in sparkly gel pen that smells like strawberries. The i’s are sometimes dotted with little hearts he’ll never admit to finding cute. And there’s envelopes involved, and usually more than eleven measly words.

His looks like something Eddie’ll toss out before opening, mistaking it for trash.

Steve grimaces. How do girls do this? Do they all take some sort of class on how to write pretty letters on pretty enough paper that boys will fall in love with them? Is that what they teach in Home Ec? He should have never let Tommy mock him into switching to shop class.

Should he ask a girl?

Under no conditions will he ever ask Carol. She’d have far too many uncomfortable questions and tell the whole school all of his embarrassing answers. He’d be run out of town within days, Carol holding the sharpest pitchfork.

Steve leans back in his chair with a groan too loud for the library and fists his hands to rub tired eyes.

“Are you okay?” Steve jerks, sending his pen and paper careening to the ground in his attempt to cover the compromising words upon the page. “Oh, sorry!”

Steve watches, horrified, as Chrissy Cunningham bends down to pick his supplies up off the carpet before he’s had time to scramble out of his chair. She’s in her cheer uniform, white zip-up Hawkins hoodie covering her arms. She looks perfect and preppy and just like all the girls who’ve ever left a note in his locker.

She’d be able to write something that Eddie would want to read.

“Steve?” Chrissy’s hovering over him, lips pursed, eyes big and worried. “Are you okay?”

“Shit, sorry,” he replies. She’s got his note clutched to her chest. He curls his fingers against the urge to reach out for it—that’ll just draw her attention, and that’s the last thing Steve wants right now. “Just got lost in my head.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He knows what she’s going to do before it happens. Chrissy’s sweet—if there’s a way to help, she’ll want to. So, she holds out the paper and begins to read, probably expecting an assignment she can tutor him on, and there they are: Steve’s damning words written in still-wet blue ink.

Her brow furrows as she takes an obscene amount of time mouthing out the words before she looks back up to meet his eyes. “Did someone give this to you?”

Her eyes are still big, but they look sad now, like just the thought of someone receiving the note he’d slaved over is enough to distress her. Unable to help himself, Steve snatches it from her hands and crumples it into a ball, damning words hidden in his fist.

Chrissy gasps at his abrupt movement and takes a halting step away.

“I wrote it,” he mutters, no longer able to meet her eyes.

She’s silent for long enough that he’d think she left, except the library’s quiet, and he hasn’t heard her take a step. He stares at the grains of the wood in the table, empty hand rubbing against the smudged top as he waits for her to do something.

“Are you…” she starts, trailing off for a moment before picking her thought back up, “…picking on someone?”

Steve clenches his fist tighter, note crinkling beyond repair beneath his nails as he mutters, “no.”

Chrissy’s quiet again. Steve doesn’t dare to look up, even as he hears the chair across from him pull out, the sound of her weight settling into the wood. The table’s just so interesting. Nothing has ever been as intriguing as the little chip out of its edge, the ring on the wood where someone had let their drink condensate against all the library’s rules.

“Who’s this for?” Chrissy’s voice is soft now, like he’s some sort of horse, prone to bolting when spooked. “Steve?”

Steve looks up. Her eyes aren’t sad anymore; they’re piercing.

He’s always liked Chrissy. She’s the nicest girl in the school, until someone does something she doesn’t like. Then, it’s all disappointed eyes, and pouty lips. It’s like disappointing his Mom, but worse, because his Mom’s never around to stare balefully at him.

The point is, Chrissy’s nice. She’s not like Carol. If he told her, there would be no lynch mob, or fleeing Hawkins in the dead of the night with nothing but the clothes on his back. Probably. Maybe.

Steve tries to smooth out the page, and scowls down at it when the wrinkles refuse to disappear. It’s even worse now, words made illegible by the deep creases his fingers have pressed into the paper. There’s no way Eddie’d ever want a note like this.

So, he says, “Munson,” looking up to try to watch his meaning land on her face.

It doesn’t. Her foreheads all scrunched up as she looks down at the note. Only then does Steve realize he’s caressing the wonky little heart. He pulls his hand back, curling his fingers in so she can’t see the smudge of blue on his pointer finger.

“And you aren’t making fun of him?”

Steve can feel his shoulders drooping. He wants to disappear into the floor, melt into the carpet and become one with all the other mysterious stains upon it. “No.”

“Oh,” Chrissy replies, drawn out and low as she peers down at the crinkled note with a confused frown. But something must click because she straightens, eyes wide beneath her bangs. “Oh!”

It’s loud enough that they both reflexively flinch. But, when no librarians come skulking around any corners, Chrissy turns back to him, gaze uncomfortably intent. Steve wonders, somewhat horrified by the turn his life has taken, if he’s about to get hate-crimed by a cheerleader half his size.

But Chrissy’s nice—always has been, always will be. So, she bites her lip and looks furtively around like she’s only just realized this is a conversation that shouldn’t have any witnesses. “But you like him?” she whispers.

Steve leans forward, matching her energy and pitch as he replies, “yeah,” quiet enough that it’s barely a breath. Chrissy smiles at him, warm and small, just like her hand as she reaches across the table to put it over his and squeeze comfortingly.

The note sits, damningly soiled beneath their linked hands, wrinkled, and smudged, and barely-legible handwriting. The weight that’d lifted with Chrissy’s smile sinks back into his gut.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Steve says, letting go of her hand so he can pull the note closer to himself. “I’m no good at this stuff.”

Steve crinkles the note back up. It’s unsalvageable—a stupid idea executed badly.

He’s in the middle of stuffing it into the pocket of his jeans to keep his keys company until he can toss it out in the comfort of his home when Chrissy says, “maybe I can help?” voice lilting up, like it’s a question.

Steve meets her eyes, hand still half-shoved in his pocket. She’s all earnest now, the way she usually is when there isn’t a sad boy infecting her with his own ineptitude. Eyes shining with conviction, bangs curling sweetly around her face. She’s no Carol, that’s for sure.

“How?” he asks, and when she smiles, it looks a bit like hope.

***

 “I can help you write a better letter,” Chrissy starts. He perks up like a dog the moment its owner gets home. “If you do something for me.”

She feels like scum when he curls back into himself, gaze forlorn.

When she’d caught sight of the note he’d spent what seemed like a full hour pouring over, this isn’t what she’d been expecting. And when she’d finally made out his chicken scratch scrawl, she’d been sure Steve was picking on someone, no matter how unlike him it would have been. But then his shoulders had curled in, and his ears had turned red, and his voice had gone all soft and squishy when he’d said Eddie Munson’s name.

And she’d just wanted to fix it.

So, even as he asks, “what?” all sad and droopy again, she knows she’s going to help him, no matter what he says.

“Date me,” she asserts. It’s only as Steve blinks stupidly at her that she realizes how that came out of her mouth. “No, wait, not really!”

Her hands are waving around wildly and she can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. In contrast, Steve seems to come back into himself, shoulders shoring up as he smirks across at her with his signature raised brow. The one he’d used while leaning on Nancy Wheeler’s locker last year, or holding her books as they walked to class, and all the other assortment of stereotypical boyfriend activities.

He’d worn it all the time, like it was part of the uniform. 

“I just meant, we could fake it?” His right eyebrow raises to meet his left, forehead scrunching up with his incredulity. “It’s just, Jason and I broke up? And he won’t leave me alone.”

It takes all her strength to keep meeting his eyes as the seconds tick away. But then Steve nods, swings his letterman jacket off, and tosses it across at her. Unprepared for his sudden movement, it hits her in the face and drops into her lap.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he says with a cheesy wink that somehow manages to feel more genuine than any of his actual flirting techniques. “Gotta sell it somehow.”

“What a romantic,” she replies, deadpan, but she pulls his jacket on anyway, something that feels an awful lot like relief steadying her heart rate as she smooths down the too-long sleeves.

Jason’s going to freak out. But after that, maybe he’ll stop calling her house, and trying to put his arm around her at lunch, and trying to pick her up for school every morning. She’d do almost anything to get it into his thick skull that she’s not interested.

So, here she is, hashing out the details of a secret admirer letter from Steve Harrington to Eddie Munson, of all the unlikely pairings.

“What’s wrong with what I wrote?” Steve whines, running his fingers through his hair until it’s all mussed up and falling into his face.

Chrissy snorts. “It sounds like you’re telling him his hair is frizzy and dry.”

“I said it was pretty!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them and pouting his lower lip out.

Chrissy can’t help but laugh. She’s always liked Steve. He’s nicer than most of his friends, and he’s easy to talk to. But this is a side she’s never seen of him. She’s not sure anyone has; can’t imagine Carol or Tommy seeing him put his whole heart into something and not tearing it to shreds.

“Do you use conditioner?” she asks, throwing finger quotations around it as she reads it off the crumpled page.

Steve’s blushing again, cheeks all blotchy and red, rather unbecoming for the shoo-in for this year’s prom king. “Well, I thought you said you’d help!” he says, a little too loud for the library.

So, that’s how she ends up spending the next hour painfully turning Steve’s earnest thoughts into words on the pretty baby blue paper she’d carefully removed from the back of her daily planner.

In the end, they’re left with this:

       Eddie –

       I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.

       I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.

       I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.

       I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.

       Yours,

       Your Secret Admirer

It’s not what she would write, but still, it’s leagues better than what he’d started with. She slides it across to Steve, and he smiles down at it. He reaches his hand out, fingers almost brushing the page before he pulls his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

“What if someone sees me?” he asks, voice so quiet she can barely hear him even in the resounding silence of the library.

They’d managed not to talk about it, the dangers of Steve liking a boy. But it’d been present in the hesitancy by which he shared each of his thoughts, looking up at her like each remark would be the last straw before she recoils in disgust.

If someone finds out that Steve has a crush on a boy, it won’t take long until he’s getting beat up between classes or heckled straight out of school. Heck, even with all the rumors floating around about him, Eddie might be the one to throw the first punch.

“Do you want me to deliver it for you?” she asks.

“You’d do that?” he asks back, because apparently no one ever taught him not to answer a question with a question. “For me?”

“What else are fake girlfriends for?” she asks because they’re all questions now, no answers to be had between the pair of them.

Steve laughs, all tension leaving his shoulders as he throws his head back with amusement, eyes downright twinkling as he beams across at her.

“You’re the best, Chrissy,” Steve says, smiling even brighter as she replies, “I know.”

She leaves school that night after pushing Steve Harrington’s love note through the slats of Eddie’s locker, Steve’s letterman jacket keeping her warm from the cold.

This might be the best relationship she’s ever had, fake or not. Eat your heart out, Jason Carver.

PART 2

Welcome to my new AU! This will be posted in 21 parts. It is complete, so there will be a new update each morning until it's all posted. I've elected not to do a tag list, but it will be added to my pinned post each day as well. If that's not your speed, it will be added to Ao3 once it's all been posted here.

Special shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for not only their usual fabulous beta work, but also both the original idea and the writing of some of the secret admirer letters. You not only make me a better writer, but this work literally would not exist without you. <3<3

Title of the fic from the song Eyes in the Sun by Florist

[lovebugism]

saw you were looking for shy!reader requests and now I'm having visions of nighttime colorful twinkly lights, snow swirling in the frigid air, frost-bitten noses and tentative glances...

what about reader getting roped into holiday caroling with the gang, including her crush, Eddie? Or some other festive outdoor activity, preferably one which allows them to subtly get closer to each other without giving away their feelings 🤭 I'm feeling those 'will we won't we' vibes tonight hehe

wow. here's me casually writing a wee drabble for someone who's written some of my favorite works on this app lol. hope you like it angel :D !! — eddie keeps shy!you company during a holiday party at the wheeler house (friends to lovers, fluff | 0.9k)

The weirdo has a soft spot for the princess.

The Princess, he calls you, ‘cause Mike once convinced you to sub in on a D&D campaign some months ago now. You were a rebellious fairy from a clan of royal fae sent to guide the rag-tag troop through an enchanted, labyrinthine forest. 

You had dressed the part, too, despite having zero knowledge of the game itself. You waltzed into the Hellfire room in a flouncy pink dress, iridescent fairy wings from last halloween, and a crown of artificial flowers.

Eddie remembers you that way, still. A sweet and timid thing, with a big heart and a pretty laugh. Even now, as you sit all alone in the Wheeler’s backyard, away from all the chaos and the twinkling lights, bathed beneath a glowing pink sky and sparkling snow — you’re still such an ethereal thing. A heavenly being, flung from space.

He weaves through the quaint party and over to you, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and his bleeding heart in the other. 

“How’s it going over here?” Eddie asks over the soft holiday music playing closer to the crowd.

You blink up at him with wide, glassy eyes, as though he’s just jolted you out of some sort of daze. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” you stammer finally, smile wavering when Eddie’s lopsided grin makes you forget how to breathe. 

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders with cold and clammy hands. Hiding feels instinctual to you now.

“Freezing to death?” the boy quips and fights to keep his own teeth from chattering.

The sight of him before you, with snowflakes clinging to his curls and his pale skin softly flushed with wintertime, makes you smile more sincerely than you mean to.

“Something like that,” you nod.

Eddie extends a ringed hand towards you then, offering the paper cup of hot chocolate keeping his aching fingers warm. “Want some?”

“Oh, no— It’s okay,” you decline with a polite shake of your head while your chest blazes with misplaced embarrassment. “I— I can get my own.”

“Well, between us, I didn’t really want it in the first place,” Eddie confesses lowly, taking another step closer until you can smell the deep musk of his cologne. You tilt your chin to follow his gaze. “Little Holly offered me a cup, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

The thought of Eddie Munson, in all his daunting black and silver, having a sweet spot for the youngest Wheeler (whom he exclusively refers to as Little Holly) makes your chest go all warm. 

Holly has her own innocent affections for him, too — you know for a fact she’s got an obsession with his bat tattoo that’s driving Ted insane.

You duck your head in a feeble attempt to hide your smile. Eddie sees it anyway, though, and smiles at your smiling, perhaps wider than he realizes. 

You take the cocoa from him with gentle, trembling hands. His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush over the back of his own. Yours stops entirely when he sits down on the bench beside you — not unwelcome, of course, but more wanted next to you than you’d ever be willing to admit out loud.

Eddie hisses through his teeth and tenses beside you through a shiver. You watch him stick his pale hands in the pocket of his thin leather jacket, which he wears in spite of the inclement weather.

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?” you wonder sheepishly, peering at the boy through the corner of your eye.

“I’m good, princess,” he insists with a shake of his head, just before his glowing nose sniffles. “I’m a rockstar, remember? Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“Really?” you hum, quiet and sarcastic.

“Yeah. Freezing to death is, like, the least metal thing ever. It’s like, you know, using an umbrella when it’s raining— It just makes you ten times less cool.”

You shift on the creaking bench and smile at your cup of cocoa. “Well, me and the ladybug umbrella I’ve had since I was nine respectfully disagree,” you joke in shy murmurs, still so meek in humor.

Eddie laughs. You feel him trembling with it beside you from where his shoulder’s pressed against yours. You see his teeth chattering just before he lifts his hands over his mouth, breathing hard into his palms in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Your hands ache with the sudden urge to cover him up. They tremble with uncertainty when you drag the borrowed blanket from your left shoulder to drape the excess along his back. Eddie peers at you with a chocolate button-eyed look as you shift closer into him, made warm and alive by your proximity alone. He’s grateful for the act of kindness, still.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, gaze averted and cheeks pink. You’d almost think he was shy.

“Don’t mention it,” you murmur back and mean it.

“You know…” the boy lilts, nicotine-spearmint breath fanning warm across your cheek. You can hear the smile in his voice without ever even looking at him. “If you just wanted to be close to me, you coulda just said.”

You flash him a stern look from beneath your lashes, which still manages to look just as soft as the rest of you. You try not to think about how close he is to you now — close enough to make out every distinct shape of the snowflakes sticking to his wild hair.

“Don’t make it weird,” you plea through a deadpan.

“That’s a lot to ask of the local weirdo,” Eddie scoffs. “I mean, it’s kinda in the name, princess.”

“Sorry for not wanting you to freeze to death.”

Eddie meets your narrowed eyes with a crooked, pink grin dripping with mischief. 

“I like you, too, princess,” he croons quietly.

Your chest pinches. You have to remind yourself to breathe. “I didn’t say that,” you shake your head and turn away, looking back to the crowd mingling beneath falling snow and fairy lights. You don’t know why Eddie would want to be here with you, instead of over there with them. 

Eddie doesn’t know how he could want a single other thing than to be here with you.

“Didn’t have to,” you hear him say as he pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulder and shuffles closer into you. For warmth, you tell yourself. For warmth and not a damn thing else.

[paceprompting]

give me your hands

written for ‘winter sports’ wc: 961 # | steddie | rated: g | cw: no warnings apply | tags: pre-relationship, fluff, teasing, eddie teaching steve to skate, slice of life

@steddieholidaydrabbles

“Jesus, Harrington, you’re a mess.”

Eddie skated to a smooth stop in front of Steve in the most awkwardly contorted position he’d ever seen someone who was a star athlete the rest of year. His knees bowed inward, arms held out straight to his sides as he wobbled on the thin blades of his rented skates.

Steve shot him a blistering look through the hair hanging over his face. “I’m on ice. What do you want from me?”

Eddie waited until Steve had slowly lifted his torso to stand sort of straight, letting out a slow exhale when he didn’t immediately fall right over.

The kids had heard that the lake in the northernmost part of Hawkins had completely frozen over. And with most parents still working during their winter breaks, it was up to Eddie and Steve to taxi the entire group out for a day of skating, snowball fights and hot chocolate.

The Hawkins skate rink had taken the opportunity to pack up their skates and rent them out beside the lake—as well as poor dude in a red puffy jacket serving as the medical booth.

“Well, you were captain of the melted version of the stuff. I thought you might be better at this,” Eddie answered, skating a slow circle around Steve and returning in front with a backward skate.

Steve tried a step forward.

His foot slid out sharply, and he shot his arms out to steady himself.

“Fuck. This is so embarrassing.” He let out a slow breath and went back to taking awkward steps on his skates.

The rest of the kids had seemed to make a game out of falling over, racing each along up and down the other side of the lake until one or both at a time toppled over. Until there was any blood, Eddie didn’t think he didn’t need to get involved.

Eddie had his hands in his pockets to avoid the cold—which would actually suck if he ended up falling—and he watched the awakward, baby deer-like way Steve attempted ice skating.

He stayed up for at least ten seconds before his skate betrayed him again.

Eddie tried for reassuring.

“You’re doing fine.”

“My butt’s cold,” Steve mumbled.

That did tend to happen when you toppled over about six times in the middle of a frozen lake. Steve wasn’t decked out in snow pants like Max, and the loose snow and ice had stuck to his jeans.

Eddie had kept pace with Steve while he waddled along, sometimes going backwards and other times having to do a figure-eight to backtrack when Steve near-stumbled and Eddie went past him.

Steve glared at Eddie’s feet. “How are you so damn good at this?”

“Free to skate if you have your own. Over the years, Wayne brought me here to try and warm up. Or tire me out so I wouldn’t knock over the Christmas tree in the trailer.”

Steve let out a laugh through his nose, but it distracted him and he did fall over for the first time since Eddie had joined him. It was onto his knees this time, the sharp pain traveling through to a wince on Steve’s face.

Eddie ducked his head as Steve slowly got back onto his feet. It was disheartening to Eddie to see Steve look down at himself and look so nearly disgusted when Steve had usually managed to find a spot for himself in everything he did.

“Give me your hands.”

Steve had his hands ready when he whipped his head to Eddie. “What?”

“You’re so worried about falling back, that’s all you’re going to do.” Eddie held out his hands, shivering as the slight wind forced cold into them. He forced his fingers to bend and urge Steve to him. “Come on.”

Steve eyed the offer.

Whether it was Eddie standing straight up with no wavering, or a last-ditch effort to try before he could officially give up—Steve slowly slid his freezing hands into Eddie’s.

Eddie squeezed Steve’s fingers, raising his brows in a question.

Steve licked his chapped lips and nodded.

With a gentle pull, Eddie started a slow path backwards. Steve glided without moving his feet, letting Eddie guide him across the ice. Eddie let him for a minute or so, letting Steve feel the balance without worry about hitting the ice.

“Try using your feet now,” he urged softly.

Steve blew out a sharp breath, shaking his head. But he followed direction, and began walking forward, barely lifting his skates from the ice.

Again, Eddie waited until Steve’s shoulders relaxed before giving another instruction.

“Don’t shuffle the blades. Lean a bit forward and push off of your feet when you step.”

Steve furrowed his brow, and if Eddie smiled at the cute wrinkle that form in that space between them that was Eddie’s business because Steve couldn’t see him anyway. He slowly repeated Eddie’s words to himself and tried to compel his feet to do as he said.

“If it pushes to the side a little bit, that’s okay. It’ll propel you forward.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s fingers again for encouragement as he propelled them forward with decently-done steps, rather than Eddie pulling him along. He thought out pulling a move from his uncle, letting go of Steve’s hands without warning to see how he did on his own.

But the second he shifted his hands even a bit, Steve clutched onto him.

“Can’t hold onto me forever,” he teased.

In a surprisingly bold move for someone who had spent half the day flat on the ice, Steve lifted his head and met Eddie’s gaze, sharp and daunting. There was a quirk to the corner of his mouth, the cocky Harrington charm slipping through his nerves.

“You sure about that?”

[katstarry]

no one noticed | call me

eddie munson x reader

part iii

masterlist ☆

part i part ii

summary: eddie finally asks you on a date!

warnings: fluff, reader tends to overthink a little, a bit of self-doubt, but overall this is happy!!! she/her for reader, not much of robin in this one :(

a/n: this is probably the last part and it’s kinda long!! i sort of winged this whole small series :D but i enjoyed writing it sm it’s the first time i’ve written multiple parts for a story, thank you for all the love!!! 💝 i think this is my favorite part.

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

a few weeks had gone by and your friendship with eddie had only gotten stronger. the project for history had gone great, and it’s only a matter of time until the grades are passed out.

though eddie and you have spent lots of time together after school at various locations, such as your house or his, diners, local shops, or visiting robin at family video—there’s one thing that neither of you have gotten the courage to ask for.

each others number.

many days spent seeing each other, the thought of continuing to keep conversations going after you both go your separate ways, has been something you’ve wanted to do since the start.

it’s a simple thing really, but for some reason you don’t find the perfect time to ask for his number, or bring it up. feeling as though that would be too awkward. he hasn’t brought it up either, which only fuels your reluctance.

which brings you to now.

it’s a friday and you’re both spending the evening at a local diner, waiting for your food to arrive, well, specifically eddie's.

"are you sure that you don't want anything else?" he looks at you as he drinks from his cup, he had ordered a burger along with some fries. while you had only gotten a vanilla milkshake with fries.

"yup, i ate some lunch at school earlier. remember?"

he nods his head, "right. just don't steal my food when it gets here." narrowing his eyes at you.

"pfft, what? i would never do that." you say, grabbing one of your fries and taking a bite.

eddie rolls his eyes and smiles, "uh huh, just like you didn't steal my chicken nugget during lunch, or yesterday at the movies and i got some m&m's , or the other time when you said you didn't want anything but then asked for my chi-"

"alriiight! okay! i have no idea what you're talking about. that wasn't me." hiding your smile by taking a sip from your milkshake, he leans onto the table crossing his arms in front of him. "sure it wasn't, she looked a lot like you though. weird."

he steals one of your fries.

"hey! now who's the thief?" smacking his hand away, but you were too late, he had already grabbed it and ate it, smiling innocently back at you.

he shrugs, "don't know what you're talking about."

"i hate you." you say shaking your head and laughing.

he laughs, "oh please, you love me, sweetheart."

you blush. because first of all yes, you do, and second of all because of the nickname he's gotten used to calling you.

"you wish." you roll your eyes, acting as if his words didn't cause your heart to race and cheeks to burn. you hope he doesn't notice. but of course, he does, though he doesn't bring it up.

"i'm wounded, you don't love me." he puts his face in his hands as if he's crying. that's when the waitress comes over with his food.

"okay, here's your burger and your fries, sir," she smiles and puts the food down in front of him, causing eddie to look up and rub his hands together at the sight of food, "enjoy your meal! you both make a lovely couple." she smiles as she looks at you both.

you both freeze and look at each other, you see eddie smile. oh no.

"thank you so much, she doesn't love me." he deadpans with a fake sad smile as he looks at her.

an awkward look appears on her face. "oh! i'm, uh, sorry about that." she looks over at you.

"that's- no! i never said that, he's just kidding. ha ha." you look at eddie who's trying not to laugh at the look on your face. you kick him under the table.

he yelps and the waitress leaves after awkwardly laughing.

"uh, ouch?!" he rubs his leg under the table.

"oh c'mon it wasn't that hard!" you laugh. your face feels warm once again, "what'd you have to say that for? the poor lady, she was just doing her job." you shake your head with a fake disappointed sigh.

"just having some fun, sweety pie."

"ugh, don't ever say that again."

"we gotta keep up the act now! right, sweetums?" he bats his eyelashes at you and takes a bite of his burger.

"stop!" you laugh.

"why, sweetcheeks? apple of my eye? buttercheeks?"

"buttercheeks?" you ask, still laughing.

"i don't know where that came from, kinda started pulling some outta my ass." he laughs, taking another bite.

"it's okay, honey, you're trying your best." deciding to play along, patting his free hand that lays atop the table.

though, unbeknownst to you, his brain kind of short circuited for a moment once he heard you. you called him honey and you don't even realize the effect you have on him. usually, he's the one calling you pet names, loving the way you react to them, it's sweet. though he only thinks it's because you're a naturally shy person, but he's questioned in his mind if there was another reason as to why.

and he hopes he's the reason why you get all flustered when he says them.

taking another bite to keep himself occupied, nearly finished with the burger, he smiles at you once he finishes.

"i really am, you cutie patootie." he wipes his hands on a napkin before, leaning over and booping you on the nose.

"seriously? cute patootie? out of all the options?" you finish your milkshake, putting the rest of your fries to the middle of the table in between eddie and you so you can share.

"it suits you! but all right then, uh.." he looks up in thought, eating one of your fries, "...snookums."

"i really do hate you." you take the final fry.

"hey, we're supposed to be keeping up an act here, boo boo bear." he points an accusatory finger at you, you stare at each other for a moment before you both end up bursting out laughing.

"we should head home, love bug." you say, getting out your wallet.

"uh uh uh! no. i'll pay." he stops you.

"eddie you paid last time. i'll pay."

he sighs, knowing he won't be able to stop you. he hasn't been able to stop you all the other times before.

you smile, knowing that you won.

now you're both in his van and he's driving you home.

it's become a routine for you both, he started picking you up for school and driving you home. if he kept this up you'll end up not remembering how to drive.

he turns up the radio, one of his metallica cassettes is playing. looking over at him, you smile at the sight. he's looking straight ahead, hands drumming on the steering wheel to the music, head moving to the beat. you believe he does it subconsciously, as if he doesn't realize he's doing it unless someone points it out.

you look away once he glances at you.

"staring it rude, sweetheart." he says sternly, though you can hear his smile.

"wasn't staring."

"sure you weren't."

"just was admiring the view."

"you flatter me, y/n." he twirls one of the strands of his hair playfully with his free hand, while the other is on the wheel with his elbow resting on the window that's down.

you shove him gently, "don't let it get to your head. it's big enough as it is."

he laughs, "who knew you'd be so mean, what happened to the shy girl from a few months ago?"

"i wasn't that shy."

he looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

"okay maybe i was."

he laughs, "couldn't even keep eye contact with me."

"i was just nervous!"

"i make you nervous, sweetheart?"

"no."

"sure." he smiles.

the rest of the drive was comfortable, music playing in the background, you like that about being with eddie. it doesn't feel awkward having periods of silence, he makes you feel safe, welcome, you can just be you.

he lowers the volume of the radio once he stops in front of your house, putting the van on park.

"well, home sweet home." he says, turning to look at you.

"home sweet home." you repeat, unbuckling your seatbelt. "thanks for the ride, eds."

"of course. you know i don't mind." he smiles.

you smile at him and get out, waving back at him once your in your house as he waits for you to get in safely, and shut the door.

once you're safely inside, eddie glances down at where you were sat, and finds napkin with scribbles on it.

he grabs it and looks at it properly, about to throw it to the back to throw away later (he always forgets), but stops once he reads what's on it.

it's a telephone number, it's your number. and beside it is written 'call me!' with a smiley face and a messy heart.

you had called robin as soon as you got home, gushing once again about your time with eddie, while she talked to you about her encounters with vickie.

and now here you were a few hours later, anxiously laying on your bed and flipping through magazines, waiting for eddie's call. will he even call?

did he even see the napkin? oh no, what if he threw it away? or what if he doesn't care?

that's when a ring begins to sound.

you jump up from the bed, fixing your hair, but then realizing he won't even be able to see you.

you pick up the phone, "hello?"

"well hellooo, y/n. i can't believe this is our first time calling each other."

you immediatley begin to smile, "i know right! we're so stupid."

"i didn't know how to bring it up."

"neither did i."

you both laugh.

"we really are so stupid." he says.

you picture him by the phone, is he standing? or is he sitting? is he smiling as much as you are?

"so..."

"so... what'd you do today?" he asks, and you know now that he's definitely smiling, and you can picture it so easily. maybe he's even toying with the phone cord, maybe not.

"hm... well i went to school obviously," "obviously." he interrupts, sounding as if he's holding back laughter.

"okay. and then just hung out with this guy after school."

"aah.. a guy you say? should i be worried?"

IS HE FLIRTING? you swear your heart skips a beat. breathe!

you laugh, "oh no, no. nothing to worry about."

"you sure?"

"totally, he wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"sounds like a pussy." he laughs.

"definitely."

"heeey! you weren't supposed to agree." he pouts, though you can't see him.

"you're the one who said it!"

"well, i don't know the guy, so i can say it."

"eddie you literally are the guy."

"i am?"

"idiot."

your laughs quiet down and you hear quiet breaths over the receiver, something about it makes it feel so intimate, it makes you blush. it's like he's so close, but he's so far away. only a couple of minute's drive away, but still, too far for your liking.

"still awake over there?" you whisper.

you hear a loud exaggerated snore in return, causing you to pull the phone away for a moment.

"well you must be in very deep slumber, i guess i'll hang up.."

"no! i'm awake. sorry, must've fallen asleep a bit there. oops. my bad, i'm up. don't hang up."

"nearly ruptured my eardrum." you laugh.

"myyy bad." he snickers.

"i am getting a bit tired though," a yawn escapes you in the middle of your sentence.

you hear him sigh, "guess we gotta sleep then."

"guess so."

a moment of quiet.

"you doing anything tomorrow?" he asks.

"um, no i don't think so. you?"

"nope."

"cool." you smile, knowing he'll ask to hang out.

"can i ask you something?" he sounds nervous.

"of course."

"we should hang out tomorrow."

"...okay, i'm down. was that the question?" you laugh softly, opting to lay down on your bed again.

"sorry- no that's not the question," you hear him move around, "uh, i was thinking."

"oh no." "shut up," he laughs, "i was uh, wondering, if you- do you want to go on a date with me?"

quiet.

WHAT. oh. oh this is real.

"uh it's okay if not, can just forget i ever said that-" "i'd love to."

he swears he stops breathing for a moment, "yeah?" he smiles once he hears your answer.

"yeah." you giggle.

"cool.. nice. i'll pick you up, uh is like 3pm cool?" "yeah, that's cool."

"awesome. well... i'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart." he whispers.

"see you tomorrow eds. goodnight."

"don't let the bed bugs bite." he says, did he really just say that? he rubs his face, but he feels calmer once he hears it made you laugh.

"alright, bye eddie."

he can't wait for tomorrow.

excitedly going to sleep, the next day comes quick.

calling robin and immediately telling her you have a date with eddie.

you wake up, have some breakfast and tell your mom, take a shower, and spend time looking for an outfit.

he didn’t tell you what the plans were, so you decide on something a bit casual but also a bit dressy. you put on a nice babydoll shirt and some jeans along with your docs.

sitting at your desk, where you have a small mirror and your make-up products, you get started on getting ready. you take your time getting your hair to look nice and not going too over the top with the make-up just some simple concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.

by the time you finish it’s about 2:30pm. okay, 30 minutes left. cool. now it’s really sinking in that you’re about to go on a date.

you get up and put on some jewelry, some earrings and a necklace, and just a few bracelets.

okay, now you’re ready.

wait! some perfume too. can’t forget that.

looking at the mirror you fix a few things—and you hear a knock at the door.

your mom went out to do some groceries—so you rush to the door and take a breath, not wanting to seem too eager. but you are.

you open the door and see eddie, he looks good. really good, which you’ve always thought but you can see he put effort in for this. his hair seems softer somehow? he’s wearing a black button down that fits loosely and some jeans, he’s still wearing his rings, you take notice that one his arms is hidden behind his back.

“you look great.” you both say at the same time.

“uh thanks.” you feel your face heat. “you look nice.”

“thank you, swetheart.” he pulls his arm from behind his back and he gives you flowers. you almost sigh dreamily, almost. you take it, unable to stop the smile that comes to your face.

“you remembered my favorite flowers?” you say as you look down at them.

“i remember everything you tell me, beautiful.”

his pet names aren’t new, but knowing this is a date makes hearing them a lot more difficult to not love the way it sounds.

“thank you, eds. i’ll just go put them in some water and i’ll be right out.” he nods and waits for you.

you’re out really quickly, excited.

he opens the door for you as he always does, but this time he even buckled the seatbelt for you, before going to the drivers seat. gentleman.

“so, where are you taking us today eddie?” you look over at him seeing him smile and starting the van.

“guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”

he hums along to the music that’s playing, opting to turn on the radio and put on one of his favorite stations. you hum along to the songs you do know, the ones you’ve listened together with him and some you’re just now hearing.

the trees on the side of the road pass you by, shades of green and brown since it’s almost fall, but still warm enough to be outside.

“i think i know where we’re headed.” you say, your gaze still outside the window.

“sh! sh! i still want it to be a surprise. even if you know where we’re going.” he chuckles.

you smile lazily over at him, your head resting on the headrest. “alright.”

the drive to the location is peaceful, as it always is. it’s filled with silly banter, teasing, and causal conversation.

once he parks the van, he rushes out and opens your door before you even get the chance to reach for the handle.

you hop out, “thank you.” you pat his chest.

“of course, your majesty.” he puts out his hand and your grab it.

he leads you to the back of the van and he opens it with his free hand, grabbing a blanket and a basket.

“a picnic?”

“a picnic.” he blushes and looks away, feeling a bit flustered by the way you look at him in adoration.

he leads you a bit further into the trees until you reach a good place; with a beautiful view of lovers lake.

letting go of your hand with a soft squeeze, he opens up the blanket and places it on the ground, putting the basket on it and sitting down. he look up at you and reaches for your hand.

“you gonna join me? or are you just gonna stand there and look pretty? i wouldn’t mind either one.”

you sit down across from him. “oh shut up.” you mumble.

he nudges your foot with his own, “don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. let’s dig in.”

“alright, let’s see what you brought.”

opening up the basket he pulls out sandwiches, drinks, a container with cupcakes, and some fruit.

he looks up at you once he finished laying everything out. “i know it’s not much.. but i hope you enjoy it. i know you’ve mentioned before how badly you wanted to go on a picnic before.” he looks back down and counties setting everything.

you grab his hand and squeeze it. “it’s perfect, eddie. thank you. anything we would’ve done today i would enjoy regardless, you make things fun ed’s.”

letting go of his hand, he sits up and smiles.

“likewise, cutie patootie.”

“ooookay. well then, this has been fun—” you move to stand.

“no! alright, alright. i’ll behave.” he laughs, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“thanks, buttercheeks.” this causes you both laugh.

he hands you a sandwich, you take it and eat. the time is spent eating the snacks he had brought, goofing around, and shy glances when the other thought they weren’t looking.

the food was eaten and now you were snacking on some grapes, now sitting side by side, looking out at the lake, the sunset making the trees surrounding it to have more color and the water to glimmer.

“it’s so beautiful.” you say, looking at the scenery.

“yeah. it is.” he says softly, but he’s looking at you. he’s leaning on his elbows, his legs stretched out and crossed.

looking over at him, you lock eyes. only this time neither of you look away. you move to mirror his position, now at eye level.

“hey.” he says in a low voice.

“hey.” you say.

you eat another grape.

“can i have one?” he glances down at the fruit in the container.

“if you can catch it.” you smirk, sitting up as he remains how he is. he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but understands once he sees you raises your arm, about to throw the grape.

he opens his mouth in attempt to catch it, but it hits his eye, causing you to burst out laughing.

“laughing at my pain, i see how it is.” he picks up the grape that fell onto the blanket and throws it back at you, which hits your shoulder.

“you missed.”

“you hit my eye!”

“it was close!”

“that was not close.”

you throw another one, catching him off guard. it hits his nose.

“now that was close.” you say, eating one yourself.

he shakes his head and sits up, reaching for the container. you pull it away playfully.

“oh? is that what we’re doing now?” he says.

you shrug.

he moves to grab it again, you pull it away.

neither of you move, until you stand and run with the container. he gets up and tries to reach you, but unfortunately you trip on a tree root and fall onto the grass, eddie falls as well by trying to reach for you.

he falls atop you, the container of fruit now forgotten.

“y’know if you wanted to be on top of me, i think that could’ve been after a couple more dates, eddie.” you joke.

eddie leans over you, not wanting to put his full weight on you. “ha ha.” he rolls his eyes.

“so what i’m hearing is.. you’ll go on more dates with me?” he brushes a loose strand of hair that fell in front of your face.

“mmm… maybe.” you smile.

“cool.”

“cool.”

he glances down at your lips, looking back to find you doing the same. “can i kiss you, sweetheart?” he whispers.

you nod, and that’s all he needs before leaning down to connect your lips. he feels your soft lips and he can’t help but sigh against the kiss. this is real. he’s kissing you. moving your hands to wrap around his neck, you feel his lips love against yours, tasting the cupcakes from earlier and a hint of mint. smiling against his lips, he pulls back for breath.

smiling down at you, he looks at you, a gleeful look on your face.

he moves to move off you, but you pull him back down for one last kiss.

he laughs against your kiss, helping you up.

“can’t get enough of me already?”

you shove his shoulder gently, “what, don’t want me to kiss you then?”

“now, now let’s not get crazy. i didn’t say that.” he pulls you closer, both of you now standing. he leans down and pecks your lips, pulling away and humming contently.

“nice?” you say.

“more than nice. amazing. awesome. beautiful. spectacular. though i think i know what would make it even better.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” you play with the ends of his hair.

“if you would be my girlfriend.” he says, blushing.

you hide your smile by hiding your face in his neck.

“i’d love to be your girlfriend, eddie.” you kiss his cheek.

he embraces you. “thank you.”

“for what?” you laugh, feeling him shrug.

“being you.” he kissed the top of your head, “…i’m your boyfriend now.” he smiles, pulling away and holding your hand.

and that next monday, in history class, where it all first started, he looks at his grade, an A written at the top.

he looks over at you, leaning over to give his girlfriend a dramatic sloppy kiss on the cheek.

[radioactiveparker]

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Three - Hallway Vision

Chapter Summary - During an adventure through the maze of school hallways, we see the Criminal become the hero, and the King become the villain. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Emotional Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Vandalism / Strong Sexual References / Drug References / Angst

Word Count - 5k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

~~~~~

Saturday.

October 25th, 1986.

Hawkins High Library.

1:00pm

~~~~~

"Let's take off. Dick's gone cruising." Eddie poked his head back into the library.

"Is that a euphemism?"

"No, Buckley. It means Higgins has just left his office."

You looked at the others as if this was an easy yes; you wanted to leave this library. Steve and Nancy didn't look too fond of the idea. Robin was torn between not wanting to leave, and not wanting to be the only one left behind. 

"How do you know where he went?" Nancy asked, as if his answer would determine hers.

"I don't. But he's gone. He wouldn't've come to check on us first if he wasn't going somewhere for a while. Jesus, I've never seen so much chicken shit in one place in my life."

She didn't find that answer very reassuring, but if Nancy was anything, it certainly wasn't chicken shit.

Robin looks at her, then back at Eddie. "I'll go out in the hall for a minute, but I don't wanna leave." As if that was proof enough that she wasn't chicken shit.

You really wanted to get out of that library. It had felt a lot bigger when you had first got there, but now, five hours later, it was starting to get suffocating. You didn't want to see another book for the rest of your life. 

"Do you mean take off for good?" You asked hopefully.

Eddie shook his head. "For good? No, just down to my locker."

"Okay." You agreed simply, taking your place beside him.

He smiled at you. "Being bad feels pretty god, huh?" 

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a playful shove. The others looked like they were starting to consider it. Eddie's locker wasn't that far away. They would be gone for five minutes tops. If things went well, that was.

"What's the point of going to a locker?" Steve questioned.

"Why don't we just stand in the hall for a minute? That'd be fun, huh? If we get away with it." Robin attempted to persuade.

You and Eddie ignored them, taking the chance to slip out the door. The longer you all spent debating it, the less time you would have to get back.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy looked at each other.

"I'm not chicken." Nancy disclosed boldly, shifting on her feet and crossing her arms.

"I am." Robin gulped. At least she was honest.

"You two gonna stay?" Nancy flicked her eyes between the two of them.

"Not if you don't." Steve leaned against the door frame, like his answer showed her some sort of compassion, that he was thinking of her. 

"What do I have to do with making up your mind?"

Steve gulped. Not the reaction he was hoping. He cleared his throat and accepted defeat. "I don't know. I guess if you're not scared, I shouldn't be... not that I am. I'm not scared. Not of Principal Higgins."

Nancy stared at him like she didn't believe him, then left before he could dig the hole any deeper for himself. Steve was crushed as he watched Nancy walk away. He felt like he had just blown a chance at impressing Nancy. His shoulders slumped, and Robin patted him on the back.

"Maybe you should think for yourself for once. It's healthy." 

She hadn't said it in a bad way, but it had still injured his dignity. He brushed her hand off him and left without a word. Robin turned to the empty library. She debated sitting back down, but she had visions of Higgins storming through the doors and hounding her with questions. At least if she got caught in the halls, she'd have the others with her. She quickly followed after Steve.

Nancy and Steve caught up with you and Eddie, with Robin running behind, trying to catch up. You all hurried up the steps as quietly as possible. You made it to the teacher's lounge and paused, hearing noise coming from inside.

"For cryin' out loud!" Principal Higgins hit the vending machine. His soda can was stuck inside. 

You and Eddie ran across the open doorway while he was distracted. You tried not to think about the way Eddie had grabbed your hand to pull you along. Higgins rattled the coin return and started banging on the buttons. Steve and Nancy went next, taking a big lunge across and landing on their feet silently. Higgins let out a defeated sigh and started rummaging his pockets for more change. Finally, Robin made it across, just in time before the Principal turned around after having no luck. Eddie turned to make sure that everyone had made it across. He hadn't realised that he was still holding your hand until you wiggled it out of his grip. Your face flushed, and you awkwardly wiped your hand on your skirt, suddenly feeling the perspiration on your palm. You took a step away from each other at the same time. Eddie cleared his throat, and the others eyed him, wondering why his demeanour had suddenly changed.

They all turned when they saw his eyes staring behind them, paralysed in panic. Principal Higgins had walked out of the teacher's lounge. 

Everyone froze.

The Principal paused, looked down at his watch, turned the other way, and walked down the hall. Everyone released a breath when he was out of sight. Eddie led you down another hall until you reached his locker.

His locker was so ugly it hurt your eyes. The white paint on his locker was non-existent. It was a horrific amalgamation of stickers from bands you've never heard of, spray paint graffiti, and lettering scratched into the metal with handwriting so bad you couldn't even read it. When he opened it, the inside wasn't much better. The stickers and writing wrapped around the inside of the locker door. It was a stunning mess of clothes, bags, papers, books, cassette tapes, and auto parts. You'd hate to see what his bedroom looked like. 

Not that you were thinking of being in his bedroom.

Eddie started fishing through his locker. Nancy was revolted by it. 

"You're such a slob. Your maid take the week off or something?"

"This is on purpose, Princess. Don't worry." Nobody believed him. "It discourages nosey people from going in it. Like cops."

Eddie smiled when he located what he was looking for. He pulled out a greasy, stained shopping bag. Out of the shopping bag, he took a smaller brown paper bag, and out of that, an even smaller paper bag. Then, with great drama and a huge, proud smile, he reached his hand into the final bag.

"You ready for this action?"

He slowly took out a baggie bulging with marijuana. Your mouth hung open in shock. Nancy looked at it like it was infectious.

"No way, man. Put it back." Steve insisted, making a reach for it.

Eddie stuffed the baggie down the from of his pants with a smirk. Steve pulled a disgusted face; there was no way he was going to take it from him now. 

"Let's go."

You all turned and quietly crept back down the hall. You were about to turn the corner when Eddie stopped you. Professor Higgins was standing outside of the teacher's lounge again, holding two cans of Coca Cola after finding some spare change in his office draw. He was only five yards away. You all scooted backwards to hide behind the corner. You bravely peeked a head around. Higgins turned and made his way down the hall. He was on his way back to the library. You told the others.

"We're screwed!" Robin cried

"You asshole!" Steve seethed. "I knew this was a lost idea!"

Nancy shook her head in disbelief. "We're finished. This is just great." 

You had a bit more optimism than that. You turned to Eddie. He got himself out of shit all the time. What's one more? You had faith in him, and he had felt it in how you spoke your words. "What're we gonna do?"

Eddie thought hard. Higgins' leisurely footsteps echoed down the hall, each one diminishing your chances of getting back to the library undetected. 

"We'll go around, cut through the lab, and double back. C'mon."

Eddie urged everyone to start running. You all swerved around corners and scrambled downstairs, sacrificing volume for speed. You narrowly escaped Higgins' sight when you turned and corner and seen he was walking head on towards you all. He was too busy sipping on his Cola to notice the group of students at the end of the hall. At least he had decided to take the scenic route back to the library. He was unintentionally buying you all some time. You all ran in the opposite direction again.

"Cut through the cafeteria." Eddie directed, starting to run down the hall to the right.

"The gym will be faster." Steve countered.

"What? No, you don't know what you're talking about."

"No, you don't know what you're talking about. I'm through listening to you. You'll just end up getting us into more trouble. We're going this way." Steve had managed to persuade the others into following him. 

Eddie hardly spent time in school, and he certainly never used the gym. He couldn't remember if it was quicker or not. He didn't like not being in control. He felt like he was running off a cliff head first with a blindfold on. He watched as the others followed Steve down the hall to the left. It was just you and him left. You stared at him fearfully, listening to Principal Higgins' footsteps grow closer. You started backwards slowly, encouraging Eddie to follow. He did with a scoff of annoyance. The two of you quickly caught up with the others, falling behind while Steve led the way. After a couple of twists and turns and another almost run in with the Principal, you reached the gym doors. Steve pulled on the handles.

They were locked.

Sheer panic set in.

"Great idea, shitbag." Eddie spat at Steve.

"Fuck you." He tried the doors again to double check that they were locked. 

They were. He kicked them bitterly.

"Fuck you, why didn't you listen to Eddie?" You defended. 

You crashed back on some lockers and folded your arms in frustration.

"We're dead." Robin whimpered.

Eddie looked at you. You had probably given him more credit that what he was worth before when you had asked him for help, but now, as you stared back, he wanted to prove himself to you. You seeing the clogs working in his brain and the change in his eyes.

He didn't take his eyes off you. "No, just me." He said heroically.

"What do you mean?" Steve's voice finally drew his eyes away from you.

"I'm gonna take the rap." He pulls his baggie of marijuana out and shoves it down Steve's pants. "Keep your unit out of it."

The girls giggled. Steve was horrified that a group of girls were laughing about his genitals.

"I mean, what if the bag broke and the dope seeped into his thing and it got high?" Robin laughed.

"Can you imagine this airhead running around with his little weenie stoned?" You cracked up.

"Little?" Steve looked wounded. "It's not that funny." 

The girls just cracked up more. Eddie smirked.

"I don't want this, Eddie!" Steve begged.

"C'mon King Steve, I'm gonna save your buns! It's your fault we're in this mess, the least you could do is hold on to that until Dick leaves." 

The girls were still laughing. You meet Eddie's eye and he starts laughing too.

Steve turned back to the group of girls snickering behind him. "Excuse me, but I don't want to do this. Eddie's making me, so I'd appreciate it if you guys would stop with the jokes. Okay?"

Eddie turned and started running back down the hall. "Just get back to the library!"

There was a pause as the girls calmed down. No use in trying to be sneaky when you can't stop laughing. 

"Eddie, wait." He paused, eyebrows raised in interest at your voice. "Be careful."

Eddie beamed and shot you a wink before sprinting down the hall.

"That stuff couldn't really happen, right?" Steve's voice quivered with concern for his unit.

With a roll of your eyes, you urged the group to start towards the library. You lead the way, taking Eddie's route through the cafeteria. As you ran through the halls, you could hear his loud singing, but he was too distant for you to understand any of the words. If you could hear him from all the way over here, Principal Higgins would most definitely already be on his way to catch him. 

You managed to get them all back to the library safely. Everyone was huffing for breath, and Steve kept adjusting his pants. Everyone took their seats, except for Nancy, who was peering out of the doors to keep an eye out for Higgins or Eddie. 

Nancy gasped. "Higgins' got him! He's gonna get reamed."

Steve recoiled at the name. "I do not want these drugs in my underwear anymore."

"Shhh!"

Nancy rushed from the door to her desk. No sooner was she seated than the door opened up, and Principal Higgins shoved Eddie in. He was red-faced from running around, and he had managed to tie his hair back into a low bun that you thought suited him. His red paid shirt was half hanging off, and he was carrying one shoe in his hand, but he still had a big shit-eating grin on his face. You wondered what on earth had happened. He made his way towards his seat next to you, hopping on one leg as he tried to walk and put his shoe back on at the same time. 

Higgins crossed his arms impatiently. "Mr. Munson has taken it upon himself to visit the gymnasium. So, I'm sorry to inform you that you'll be losing his company for the remainder of the day." 

Eddie chuckled to himself as he sat back in his seat next to you.

"Everything's a joke, huh, Munson? The false alarm you pulled on Friday? Are false fire alarms real funny? What if your home was on fire and the fire department was over here answering a false alarm?"

"I'm not that lucky, Sir."

Everyone suppressed the urge to laugh at Eddie's wisecrack. 

"Fine, what if it was your dope on fire?"

"That's impossible, Sir. It's in Harrington's underwear."

Everyone cracks up again. Steve turned red, adjusting himself in his jeans not-so subtly.

The Principal turned his attention on everyone else. "You like this? You think Munson's funny? Do you think he's cute?"

He got no reaction from anyone. Eddie glared at Higgins as he made his little speech, trying to hide his embarrassment at the fact that the Principal had managed to one-up him. 

"I bet Y/N thinks I'm cute." He mumbled under his breath. Eddie had spoken your actual name for the first time. It sounded like honey running off his lips. Your eyes widened, but you pretended not to hear. 

Higgins continued. "Go visit Big Eddie Munson in five years and see how goddamn funny he is." He smiled and leaned in close to Eddie. "You look like you're gonna cry, Munson."

Eddie was struggling to keep himself from striking Principal Higgins across his smug fucking face. How dare he humiliate him in front of everyone. How dare he humiliate him in front of you.

"You're not tough, Munson. You're pathetic." He reached out and grabbed Eddie by the front. "Let's go."

Eddie smacked his hand away. "Get your fucking hands off me! I'd expect better manners from you, Dick."

Eddie shuffled around the table, planting a big kiss on your cheek as he left. You almost gasped in surprise. As he walked away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Why he was carrying sunglasses in October, you had no idea. You had learned it was probably better not to question him. He lay them on the desk in front of Steve. 

"For better hallway vision." He sniped.

Principal Higgins walked out, holding the door open for Eddie as he shuffled languidly behind him. He turned his head and looked at the others. 

He held up a peace sign in farewell. "It's been a slice, ladies."

The door closed behind them.

The room was silent once more. 

You reached a hand to your cheek where Eddie had kissed you. The skin was tingling under your touch. You couldn't help but smile at the memory of his surprisingly soft lips. Billy flashed through your mind again. Your heart dropped into your gut. How could you have let Eddie have that effect on you when Billy was waiting for you at home? The thought had your body tingling again. But not the good kind. 

Everyone awkwardly glanced at each other. You realised now that somehow Eddie had been the glue that was holding you all together. You had all bonded over your inadequacy to tolerate Eddie that, now he wasn't here, you had absolutely nothing in common.  You were unable to prevent the disappointment swarming in your chest.

"Principal Higgins is a total meat head." You broke the silence and everyone turned to you.

They all had the same sort of sorrow in their eyes. The girls agreed with you, but Steve shook his head like he didn't have any regrets.

"The freak asked for it."

The insult upset you more than it probably would have upset Eddie. "Hey! It isn't fair that Eddie gets treated like that. We all left. He saved our asses."

"Oh, get a life, Y/N."

You thought Steve was starting to come around to you after your talk on the way to the teachers lounge. You guessed not. "He sacrificed himself so we could get back here. I didn't see you volunteering."

You had wounded Steve's dignity. "I didn't want to leave in the first place. He got us into it, it's only right that he take the shit for getting us out of it." He bit back.

"You weren't forced to go!"

"Munson is a troublemaker."

"Yeah? So what does that make you?"

"Meaning what?"

"Wimp."

CCRRAASSHH!!!

Everyone turned in the direction of one of the seclusion rooms. There is a gaping hole in the ceiling where the tiles had crashed through, and Eddie splayed, stunned, on his back on the table. After catching his breath, he sat up and shook the dry plaster out of his hair. He sauntered out into the main library like nothing had happened.

"Miss me?"

"How did you do that?" You bewildered.

"Smoke and mirrors." He winked, taking his rightful seat beside you.

"Goddammit!" Footsteps came hurtling towards the library doors.

"Shit!" Eddie ducked underneath the table. 

His tall, lanky body hardly fit underneath. He shuffled upwards until his upper half was tucked between your legs. You cringed, trying so desperately to close your legs so Eddie didn't look straight up your skirt, but your legs were trapped on either side of his shoulders. 

Principal Higgins stood at the door, red-faced and puffing. "What was that ruckus?" 

"What ruckus?" You played dumb, jumping in before Steve could open his mouth and rat on Eddie. 

Higgins eyed them all up. You all sat like little angles, up straight and arms folded innocently in front of you.

"Could you describe it, Sir?" Robin asked.

"Watch your tongue, Missy."

Eddie shifted in discomfort, adjusting himself so his back didn't ache as much. He eyed your white keds. Only a slight discolouration in the laces and few specs of mud from when you had crossed the school field, but otherwise clean. He moved back slightly so he didn't get any dirt on himself. He followed his eyes up your white socks, tracing the green trim at the top of your knee. He was glad to be under the table when he flushed at the sight of your bare skin. The soft flesh of your thighs enticing him to follow higher.

There was a sudden knock from under the table from Eddie accidentally banging his head. You jolted in surprise, hitting your hands on the table to disguise the sound. The others copied, tapping their own little beats.

"What was that noise?"

"What noise?"

Eddie hoped that the sight he saw would never leave his mind. It was enough to send anyone into a cardiac arrest. His mouth hung open as he ogled straight up your skirt. You hadn't worn your spandex briefs since you weren't actually doing any cheerleading, and instead had opted for a pair of baby blue cotton panties. Eddie's mouth was watering at the excruciatingly tender bulge. In his entire life, Eddie would not be able to duplicate the raw power of this moment. Eddie's eyes were locked in a stare, hand trembling and eager to touch.

"Really, Sir, there wasn't any noise, just ---"

You shot up straight with a gasp, hands reaching underneath the table and into Eddie's hair. You could feel it tickling the skin of your thigh as his head moved further between your legs. The others looked at you with alarm. You pulled gently on his hair to urge him to stop, but couldn't find yourself putting in any effort to resist him. Your hand stayed weaved into his curled as he continued to delve in deeper. Your legs had started trembling when you felt his lips graze your inner thighs before placing a soft kiss there. Your mouth hung open in shock before you came to your senses. You quickly covered your gasp with a cough.

The others joined in and you couldn't be more grateful. The four of you sat in a coughing fit with Higgins eyeing you all suspiciously.

"What that the noise? The noise I just made. Was that it?" You thought fast.

Eddie's nose prodded at your mound. You suppressed another gasp and slammed your thighs closed around his head to stop him from moving any further. Eddie snapped out of his trance at the sudden pain on either side of his head. He slapped your leg to tap out, and you relaxed your thighs. He moved away from you, rubbing his ringing ears. When you felt him leave, you gave him a deserved kick to the arm. He hissed in pain, but Higgins hadn't heard it.

The Principal scowled. "I didn't catch you this time, but you can bet I will." He pointed a finger at you. "You!"

You tensed.

"I will not be made a fool of."

And with those final words, he stormed from the library.

Everybody held their angelic expressions for a couple beats and then, assured that Higgins was out of earshot, Steve, Nancy, and Robin break into laughter. You shoved your seat back and kicked your legs at Eddie as he scrambled out from under the front of the table. 

"You're such an asshole." 

Eddie tried to keep as serious as he could, but struggled to contain his laughter at your anger. "What?" He asked innocently.

"You know what."

"It was dark under there, it was an accident."

The others seemed to take interest in your spat. They wondered what had Eddie laughing and felt inclined to join in.

"What?" Steve asked.

"None of your business." You slumped back into your chair and crossed your arms, angry and embarrassed.

Eddie saw your wet eyes and soft pouting lips. He started to feel bad. He hadn't meant to upset you.

"I couldn't help it, okay? I'm sorry." 

You refused to look at him. He placed a gentle hand under your chin and guided your eyes to meet. His voice was much softer. "I'm sorry."

You hadn't said it out loud, but Eddie could see the forgiveness in your eyes. You relaxed under his touch, feeling the truth in his words. He smiled tenderly.

"What did you do?" Steve asked again, still hoping for a laugh. 

Eddie had clearly embarrassed you somehow. Steve thought it was only fair to get a few jokes out on you after you and the other girls had made fun at him in the hallway.

"Shut up." Eddie snapped, and the moment was over. 

He held out a hand to Steve who just looked at it in confusion. He reached like he was going to shake Eddie's hand but he slapped it away just before they clasped hands. Eddie looked at him like he was as thick as pig shit. 

"You smoke all my reefer or something? The dope, waistoid. Give it to me."

Steve's eyes lit up at the disclosure, wondering how he had managed to forget. He reached into his pants and tossed the baggie to Eddie, murmuring a 'good riddance' to it under his breath. Eddie sat back next to you and opened the bag on the table. You stared at it in curiosity.

You had never smoked weed before. You had never smoked period. But Billy did. He always tried to force you to smoke it with him, but you refused. It wasn't that you hadn't wanted to do it, it was because Billy wanted you to. It was kind of like when your parents ask you to do something and it immediately puts you off wanting to do it. He'd call you a killjoy, or Miss Priss, which always got under your skin. But what made it worse was that Billy always got horny when he was high. He struggled to contain himself around you, even when you told him no. Luckily, he had never done anything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he would. 

You knew Eddie wouldn't be like that though. You had never seen him stoned, but there was something about him that told you smoking with Eddie would be okay. He wouldn't pressure you into trying it if you didn't want to, and if you did, that was okay too. Eddie sold weed to people all the time, heavy hitters and noobs alike. He had taught plenty of people how to smoke before. You could try it for yourself, without Billy's untoward provocation. 

He patted his pockets then looks troubled. "Do you have any papers." He asked no one in particular. 

Then with a shake of his head, he answered his own question. "Why would you dinks have papers?"

"You're not smoking in here." Nancy looked fearful.

"Yeah? Watch me."

"If you want to smoke, go back to where you were before. Before you fell through the fucking ceiling." Steve ordered on Nancy's behalf.

Eddie reached over and pretended to click a switch to turn Steve off.

"What can I use for papers?"

"A book?" You suggested.

"What about the smell?" Nancy quizzed.

Eddie regarded her off-handedly. "Take your shoes off, that'll mask the smell."

Nancy's mouth hung open in offence, She knew her feet didn't smell so the insult hadn't wounded her pride too much. But it was still embarrassing none the less. Especially in front of Steve.

Eddie ignored her and turned to you. "Book pages are too thick."

"How about dictionary pages? That paper's real thin."

Eddie looked at you impressed, eyebrows raised and a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. The look of pride made your stomach flip. You took a great deal of pleasure at his silent praise. He walked over to the dictionary stand. 

"You can't tear up a dictionary." Robin protested. "What if somebody needs a word and you smoked it?"

Eddie ignored her, opened a dictionary and ripped out a random page. He couldn't care less if he had caused someone a minor inconvenience. There was more than one dictionary in the world.

He pointed at Nancy. "Hey Princess, watch that door. This is a police matter if we get caught."

Nancy tensed. She didn't like that idea very much. She swallowed hard. Eddie walked to the back of the library where the comfy chairs were and plonked himself down on one of the bean bags, making himself right at home.

You got up to follow. Steve looked at you completely pissed off at you for encouraging Eddie's behaviour.

"Loosen up." You scoffed.

"I'm not getting my paper written." Nancy sighed to herself.

"You know," you continued, "he's not all that bad. I'm kind of getting used to him."

"You're just bored."

"Why are you acting like this towards me, Steve?" You'd had enough of the way he was talking to you. "I thought we were fine after I apologised."

It was like when you were alone together you were fine, but in front of the others he hated your guts. You thought he had some nerve calling Eddie out at lunch for trying to keep up with his image. He was being such a hypocrite right now.

He scoffed. "It was hardly an apology."

"It was hardly an apology because I had nothing to be sorry for. I told you already what Billy did wasn't my fault."

"I know!" His voice softened. "I know."

Nancy gave him a gentle look, as if urging him to apologise. He sighed in defeat, tracing a finger along the split in his lip. Suddenly it didn't hurt as much anymore. Like holding this grudge over you was a constant reminder of the pain Billy had given him. He knew apologising was the right thing to do. He opened his mouth, but his time was up.

You shook your head in disappointment. You didn't know what you were expecting from him. Perhaps Steve wasn't as nice as you once thought. It was crazy how things had turned out. In the beginning, you thought for sure that this experience would have given you a chance to make amends with Steve, maybe even become friends of some sort. Turned out that you grew apart from Steve and found yourself feeling closer to Eddie. A notion you had never entertained in all your years at Hawkins High.

You walked away before Steve could say another word to you. 

~~~~~

<<<Previous // Next>>>

~~~~~

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola

[flowercrowngods]

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

day 03: first kiss

a/n: not sure if I vibe with this part, but I hope it's okay. also don't think you're getting fluff

A broken heart is such a thing that will make you live either in the past or in the future; never in the present moment. Lovesickness feels like a virus is attacking the very fabric of your universe, distorting time and space and leaving you floating; directionless and hurting. 

That is how Steve feels as he goes through the motions of his life, getting his kids ready for finals, for their oral and written exams, or planning end-of-year school trips. While school provides a great distraction and he has mastered the art of switching into teacher mode almost effortlessly, he feels like he’s just an inch or two beside himself. Beside where he should be. 

He’s dwelling in the past or mourning dozens of possible futures, an infinity of them that will end up unrealised, unlived, unloved. His heart is heavy all the time, his head hurting, and his phone chiming with an endless string of messages that go unopened, unreplied. 

It’s been a few weeks since the engagement party, since he last saw Eddie — who asked if he was okay, who has been asking to see him again, to hang out, have a drink, just catch up. But every time he does, Steve just hurts, and he finds excuses. 

— Sorry, it’s finals season, I’ll be spread thin for the next few weeks :(

Eddie had replied with a litany of sad, brokenhearted emojis that were at equal measures ridiculous as they were exactly what Steve was feeling. Is feeling. Will probably always be feeling, for the rest of his life and beyond. 

So far, Eddie hasn’t asked him to be his best man. Steve sort of doesn’t want to give him the opportunity for that. He’s cowardly enough to wish he could avoid Eddie forever if only that meant he wouldn’t have to see his face fall and crumble when he tells him, No. 

No, I can’t be your best man. I can’t make it to the wedding. I can’t make it, I can’t do this, I can’t stand by and watch as you show me and the rest of the world that your dream life is not with me. Never with me. I can’t hand you over when all I wanna do is hold you. Hold your hand. Walk you down the aisle and then sweep you up in my arms, just to run out, run away; anywhere, as long as it’s with you. 

It doesn’t make sense. There won’t be an aisle, there won’t be any sweeping, there won’t be a future for them. Never has been. Not like this. 

Although there was a brief moment in time where their futures almost aligned. Almost. The timing was never right, though, stumbling through the motions and currents of two lost boys’ emotions. But it was almost there, almost enough.

And it's what's been on Steve's mind all week, playing and replaying, tearing at him from the inside out, leaving him with a jigsaw puzzle of infinite pieces of could have beens, would have beens, and what ifs.

"You know," he tells Robin one evening, who has practically moved in now, claiming that broken hearts are best nursed together. "I was actually Eddie's first kiss."

To her credit, Robin doesn't drop the carton pizza at Steve's non-sequitur. She just swallows hard and looks at him in that careful way she has now, where she's trying to read him and ask his eyes to tell her what it is that she should say next. It's frustrating. It's the greatest kindness anyone has ever shown him. It makes him want to punch a wall, and it makes him want to wrap her in the warmest hug and never, ever let her go.

"You were?"

Steve just nods, his lips trembling as his throat closes up again.

"No," she says in the gentlest voice, taking his hand as she guides him to the living room couch. "I didn't know that. Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shakes his head, tucking his feet under her thigh and leaning sideways against the backrest of the couch. His head is heavy and he's tired. He's always tired, even though he doesn't cry as much anymore. It's been four weeks since the engagement party.

"No, I just, uh– Just wanted to say that."

She nods, her eyes boring into him for two, three, four seconds before she finally turns to her pizza.

He looks past her, his eyes unfocused as his mind travels back to that day when they were still in high school.

~*~

The day that Eddie told him he was gay. And Steve had asked how he knew, because he'd been wondering about his own sexuality.

"I don't know, I just know."

"Well, have you ever kissed a boy?"

And Eddie had blushed a little, charred with his feet in the dirt like he always did – still does. "No."

"Okay."

And Steve, ten years ago, had thought, why not kill two birds with one stone. "Would you like to?"

"Huh?"

"Well, I mean, I'm kinda on the fence about it? Sometimes I think I might like guys, but then other times not so much. But I've never kissed one either, so," he shrugged. "If you, like, want to? We can."

"You want me to kiss you?" Eddie sounded incredulous, but his eyes were very big, very dark, very vulnerable. And it was not a no.

"Only if you want to."

A grin split Eddie's face then and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, but there was something forced about it. "Well, what If I fall madly in love with you, Steve Harrington, hm? What then?"

"Oh, please," Steve had only snorted; the thought that Eddie would fall for him out of all people was just too absurd.

And then something had shifted between them, the air turned into something sizzling as Eddie's smile fell and he stepped closer to Steve, raising one hand to his cheek.

"Here goes my first kiss," he murmured.

"Ever?"

"If we discount Lisa from kindergarten, then yes."

Steve huffed, looking down at Eddie's lips, the moment strangely intimate – but not uncomfortably so. Being this close to Eddie wasn't something new, Steve was used to his friend's tactile nature. "Fuck Lisa from kindergarten."

"I'd really rather not," Eddie smiled before finally, finally leaning in and capturing Steve's lips in a kiss.

To this day, Steve is not sure why he went and deepened the kiss like he did. Was it because he knew this was Eddie's first and he wanted to make it good, make it last? Was it because something deep inside of him knew that he liked boys, too, and that he liked Eddie, even though that realisation wouldn't come for another year at least?

He doesn't know why, but he feels it on his lips still, the memory of their first kiss. Their only kiss. A spectacular one that ended with twin smiles after Steve showed Eddie how to move his lips, how to tilt his head, how to open his mouth to let him in. How to capture the little sigh that he would make.

Eddie had looked at him, a little dazed, and Steve grinned at him, delighted at his expression more than at the kiss itself.

"A-And did you," Eddie started, pulling his hands away from Steve and shoving them deeply into his pockets. "Did you get any closer to, uh, to finding out?"

"If I like guys?"

Eddie nodded.

Steve thought about it; about the kiss and how it wasn't as soft as making out with Nancy or Allison. How he would swallow their moans and run his hands along their soft bodies. Eddie wasn't like that. Eddie was just Eddie.

"I think I'll just stick with girls for now," he shrugged with a smile, patting Eddie on the shoulder and squeezing lightly when the other boy began to sway a little.

"Suit yourself, Harrington," Eddie said, shoving him a little. "But you're missing out."

Years later, Eddie had drunkenly confessed to him that he'd had a crush on Steve back then. For years. And Steve had wanted to ask about it, ask if it's still there, that crush, that connection on a deeper, closer level; but then Eddie told him, "Remember Chrissy? We're official now."

And all the words had died on Steve's lips. All those questions, or the confession that, Yeah, me too. Though Steve's crush on Eddie was much later, years after their first kiss, – and it never really ended.

Still hasn't. And it's not a crush. It's more. It's everything.. He's in love. In it. Caught, stuck, trapped inside, while Eddie and everyone else is on the outside, just watching him struggle.

~*~

Later that night, on his umpteenth re-run of the First Kiss Episode that's keeping him from falling asleep, leaving him frustrated and sad and wondering, his phone rings. Eddie's name pops up on the screen, the impersonal Eddie Munson feels like a knife through his heart. He couldn't bear any of the silly nicknames that Eddie's always had in his phone, and needed to go back to a clean slate.

It hurts, though. He watches, considering to let it go to voicemail – but he hasn't talked to his... to Eddie in four weeks. Barely even talked to him on his engagement party.

And even though there's a chance opening for Eddie to ask him or to talk about his wedding, Steve answers the call.

"Stevie," Eddie says, somewhere between a sigh and a hum, and immediately takes away Steve's breath.

"Hi," he rasps. His heart is racing, his hands begin to tremble and he's shaking even under the thick, warm blanket.

"Did I wake you?"

He hums a negative, not trusting himself to speak, and it comes out a pathetic croak, because God, he missed Eddie. Part of him was missing – part of him will always be missing now, he knows –, and it makes him cry. It's not a sob, not a wail, not anything that Eddie can hear or something that would alarm Robin in the other room.

They're silent tears, and he presses his face into the pillow. He should hang up.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks again, his voice so small, so gentle, so worried. "Are you okay?" And after a moment of Steve being unresponsive because he can't catch his breath without gasping, Eddie asks, "Are you crying?"

And just like a kid that tries to be brave through the pain after falling down, but breaks the moment someone asks if they're hurt, Steve lets out a tiny, broken little sob.

"Oh, Stevie baby," Eddie sighs, and he sounds so sad, so compassionate, Steve never wants to hear his name like that ever again. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," he croaks pathetically, hitting himself once, twice, three times for not keeping it together. For not being strong enough.

I can't do this.

"What do you need?"

"Sleep," he sniffles, stupidly.

"Okay. Then I'll stay here and be silent company, yeah? Don't need to be alone. Is Robin there?" He hums again, affirmative. "Good. Want me to say something? Read to you, tell you a story? Play you some music or–"

"Eddie," Steve manages. I love you. "Just silence? But you don't have to."

"Nah, I'll stay with you," Eddie says before Steve even finished his objections. "Until you've fallen asleep, yeah?"

Steve just nods into his pillow, even though Eddie can't see or hear it.

He's watching the seconds turn into minutes as the time passes. He's so tired, but he doesn't want to let go yet. Not when Eddie is right there. Not when there's still the phantom feeling of his lips capturing Steve's, a memory that is ten years old and still as strong as the very first second.

He should have known, then. Should have leaned in for another kiss, should have told Eddie that he knows he's into boys now, too, and ask Eddie to keep kissing him.

He shouldn't have taken years.

He should have created a new world just for the two of them, with an infinite amount of futures, and all go them happy. All of them SteveAndEddie.

But he didn't. And he wants to apologise. For being so slow, for not knowing until it was too late. For pulling away these past few weeks when that's the last thing he ever wants to do. For not being strong enough; for being too weak.

I'm in love with you, he thinks. Over and over and over. Mouths it voicelessly into the silence between them. Says it out loud when after almost two hours, Eddie hangs up with a quiet, "Good night, Stevie. I miss you." He says it when Eddie's gone, the beep of an empty line the only response he gets before that cuts out, too.

And then he's all alone again.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @imzadidragonfly @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae and thanks to everyone who said nice things about this 🤍🌷

come back tomorrow for: here come the tears (and hurt/comfort, maybe) | read part 4 here

[leandra-kinard]

Love, Actually

„So… which of love stories do you like best?” Evan asks, his chin resting on his palm which is lying on Tommy’s chest.

They’ve slid down on Tommy’s big couch as the credits started rolling. During the film, they’ve sat side by side, with Tommy having one arm slung around Evan’s shoulders most of the time, kissing occasionally.

“Hm,” Tommy hums, “I have an answer, but… you go first, if you don’t mind.”

Evan lets out a soft laugh, scrunching up his face a little as he ponders. “Uh— I can tell you which one I don’t like.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Evan replies, lifting his head a little higher. “The one with… Uh, what was her name? Keira Knightley.”

“Juliet and Peter.”

“And… Mark, was it?”

Tommy nods, shifting just ever so slightly to the side so Evan can rest most of his weight on the leg that’s not wedged between Tommy’s. Not that Tommy minds, per se, but they’re trying to have a conversation here.

“Yeah, so I didn’t really like that one.”

“Why not?” Tommy asks, wondering if Evan’s opinion is similar to his own.

“Well, she— I wouldn’t say she cheated, per se, but she kissed another guy, even if just as a sort of thank you. And he? He broke every— Every ‘bro-code’ there is. That was just… That’s like if— uh, if we got married and Eddie came by to tell you you’re perfect to him, and then you’d kiss him and—”

“Oh, so I’m Keira Knightley in this scenario?” Tommy asks, amused but also cringing ever so slightly at the mental image of Eddie in front of his house, holding up hand-written signs with a declaration of unrequited love. He deliberately doesn’t let his thoughts dwell on the premise of the hypothetical scenario, even if a part of him wants to. It’s much too early for that.

“I mean… well, yeah. I mean you and Eddie are friends too, so it doesn’t exactly fit. But Mark was supposed to be Peter’s best friend. So yeah, that’s just… it’s kinda—”

“Icky?”

Evan huffs out a chuckle. “Yeah.”

~*~

(Read the rest on AO3)

Spontaneously had the idea for this ficlet after my chat with OP in the comments on this post @dovrianaftlalini

[ladykailitha]

Soft 2 of 2

And finally part 2! I haven't written more on Grief because guess who got an ear infection over the weekend? If you guessed me, you'd be correct! Who knew that symptoms included neck pain, headaches and sore throat...yeah...

Also I should probably warn for smut. Under 18 you've been officially warned.

Part 1

***

Eddie was vibrating out of his skin when his present was finally ready. It had taken a week and his excitement bubbled out all of the place.

He had already preformed his bet pay out. Jeff was positively gleeful about the whole thing.

Jeff and the rest of his band were even more gleeful about Eddie’s surprise for Steve. More than once one or more of them expressed their desire to see the look on Steve’s face when he realized what Eddie had done for them.

They only stopped when Eddie told them that if everything went to plan then they’d probably would be having sex right after.

And since none of them wanted to see that part, they stopped teasing him about seeing the first part.

He walked into the apartment that afternoon like he always did, jaunty and carefree. Jeff had whined several times that Eddie spent more time at Steve and Robin’s place then he did their own.

Robin was bopping to her music in the kitchen and Steve was on the sofa watching a game show of some sort.

“Eddie!” Steve greeted.

Eddie grinned. “Looking good, Stevie. I’m glad you head is feeling better now.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks for stopping by so that Robin wouldn’t worry about me.”

“It was no trouble,” he said. “You needed looking after and I was more than happy to be of service.”

He pulled something out of inner pocket of his leather jacket and handed it to Steve.

“I wanted to get you a little something as thank you for the chain and picks you got me.”

Steve frowned. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds. I like buying things for you.”

He said it so easily, as if that didn’t make Eddie’s heart speed up faster then anything caused by his nervousness.

He opened the box and pulled out a pair of light blue sunglasses, so clear that you could see in and out with a relative ease.

“Oh, Eddie...” Steve murmured. “They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re your prescription,” Eddie explained. “Which means you can’t wear you contacts when you have them on.” He tapped the space between Steve’s eyes.

“Wait, really?” Steve murmured. “What? How?”

Eddie tapped the side of his nose. “That’s my secret. But I remembered that your senior year of high school you were wearing sunglasses all the time. Everyone thought you were being too cool. But none of the teachers said anything. So it got me thinking...you wore them because you needed to, didn’t you? Too many concussions made you sensitive to light.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit! I didn’t realize anyone noticed.”

“And I bet I know why you stopped wearing them,” Eddie continued. “It’s because Scoops wouldn’t let you and then you would just forget to put them on the rest of the time.”

Robin tapped Steve’s shoulder and pressed something into his hand. He opened it to find his contact case.

“But I–” he protested and she handed him the bottle of solution. He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

He took out his contacts and carefully put them away. He handed them back to Robin.

He pulled the glasses out their case and put them on. They fit perfectly.

“The frames are the same style as your regular glasses,” Eddie said. “You can wear them all the time or just when you know you’re going to be in a situation where there are a lot of lights. Say...a certain band’s metal concert.” He winked at Steve.

Steve let out a giggle. “They’re amazing, Eds. I love them.”

“Looking good, dingus,” Robin said affectionately. She kissed his cheek. “I’m heading out. Please no sex on the sofa. I have to sit there too.”

She waved by to Eddie and then slammed the door behind her.

Steve blushed furiously. “We aren’t even dating…” he pouted.

“Yet.”

Steve’s head shot up. “Wha’?”

“We aren’t dating yet, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. “Robin and my band both think this little trinket,” he plucked at the necklace around his neck, “is a declaration of true love. Are they right?”

Steve ducked his head again, pursing his lips. “Yeah, Eds. Of course it is.”

Eddie tapped the glasses. “Back atcha, big boy.”

Steve raised his head again, this time much slower. “You really mean that?”

Eddie gently pulled Steve closer and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, melting into the kiss. Eddie leaned backward onto the sofa, Steve following to keep pressing their lips together in kiss after kiss.

Eddie tenderly removed the glasses and set them on the table before he resumed kissing Steve. The pace slow and languid. Just the two of them exploring each other’s mouths and bodies. Not really heading toward sex, just feeling the euphoria of finally getting together.

Soon they drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

They woke a couple hours later, to an alarm on Eddie’s watch going off.

Steve looked up at Eddie blearily and still soft from sleep. “Wha’?”

“Hey beautiful,” he cooed. “We have a dinner reservation at seven, it’s now five. Go get yourself a shower and change so we can go, okay?”

Steve smiled. “Okay, baby.” He kissed Eddie and then deftly rolled off the couch onto the floor.

Eddie smacked his ass as he passed. “Show off.”

“For you?” Steve said. “Always.”

Eddie blushed.

*

“Hey, Eddie!” Steve called from his room. “Can you come here a moment?”

Eddie hopped to his feet and was at Steve’s door to his bedroom in a flash. “What’s up, dar–” he stopped when he saw Steve standing in the middle of his room, dripping wet with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

Eddie gulped.

Steve must have realized his state of undress, because he blushed furiously. “I, um... couldn’t remember what you were wearing and didn’t want to be too overdressed for dinner.”

Eddie grinned. “You sure, sweetheart? Because this looks like a ploy to get me into that bed of yours.”

Steve looked up through his eyelashes, coy. “Well...if you’re interested, I could make it about that if you prefer.”

He removed the towel and dried himself off. The towel just barely covered his modesty as he dragged it over his body.

Eddie’s mouth dried with it.

And then towel dropped and Eddie was faced with the reality of a naked Steve Harrington.

He drank in his fill, eyes darting across every line, every plain, every freckle.

“You like what you see, babe?” Steve purred. He took a couple steps back and threw himself on the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at Eddie through half-lidded eyes.

Eddie licked his lips. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I just have to do two things and then I will happily join you in the bed.”

Steve grinned. “Hurry back.”

Eddie nodded and ran out to the front room. He locked the front door, and then quickly called the restaurant to cancel their reservation. Screw dinner, Eddie was going straight for dessert.

He walked back into Steve’s room to find him with hands tucked behind his head, pulling his already taut body longer.

He kicked off his sneakers first and then pulled off his shirt. Steve watched him strip with eyes blown wide and lips slick from licking them.

Eddie grinned. He dragged out pulling down his zipper, nice and slow. He saw Steve’s Adam’s apple bob. He took off his pants and was standing in front of the bed with just his underwear on.

“Babe,” Steve moaned. “Let me see. Please.”

And who was Eddie to deny Steve anything. He pulled off his boxers, dropping them to floor.

Steve reached out and Eddie went willingly into his boyfriend’s arms.

Like with their languid kissing on the couch, this too was slow and tender. Mapping each other’s bodies with their hands, their lips, their tongues.

Soon they were coming and they laid next to each other, covered in cum and giggling like children.

“I can now confirm that the rumors about your prowess in bed is absolutely not a myth but a god damn fucking legend,” Eddie breathed, his hands draped over his belly as his willed his heart rate back to normal.

Steve laughed. “Well, you’re certainly no slouch in the bedroom either, sunshine.”

Eddie sat up and started scanning the room for the towel.

“Where are you going?” Steve whined. “I want to cuddle with my boyfriend.”

Eddie chuckled. “Just grabbing the towel to clean us up, princess.”

Steve hummed and he took that as permission to get the towel. He grabbed it and cleaned himself off first before using it on Steve. He tossed it into the laundry basket.

Steve curled up into his side. “Hey, I thought throwing things into laundry baskets was my job.”

Eddie chuckled. “Oh it is.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Steve said sleepily. “You stick to the guitar playing rocker, and I stick to the throwing things in laundry baskets.”

Eddie laugh out loud. “Yeah, baby. We can do that.”

Steve snuggled closer. “Good.”

Later they would get up and dressed. They would order pizza and watch trash movies on late night TV.

And when Robin came home that night, she found the two of them curled up on the couch, asleep again in each other’s arms.

She grabbed a blanket off the back of the armchair and draped over them.

“I’m happy for you dinguses,” she said softly into the still room and then went to bed, content her soulmate had found his person at last.

***

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[chelseeebe]

pick a side or i’ll pick you both. (part two)

blood, guts and gore. cheating, smut.. idk what there isn’t in here.

summary: what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted? does anyone make it out of hawkins alive?

a/n: idk if i like this hehe. i’ve also not really read it through bc i detest reading anything i’ve written so excuse any mistakes. i’ve written a small epilogue for this which i’m gonna post separately soon!

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent @nope-thanks @secretdryrose @bibieddiesgf @val-writesstuff

part one. | part two. | epilogue.

for a memorial, things were pretty wild. suppose with the whole town still reeling from the murders, it was to be expected that people wanted to let loose.

including steve.

who was sat jabbering on about nancy and the amazing memories he held with jason. utter bullshit. but he was incredibly intoxicated so you’d let him off.

you stay away from the drink, nursing a singular beer all night. too afraid to get drunk and let go of your inhibitions. unsure of what you might let slip.

eddie was at least keeping his part of the deal, sat in the corner with jonathan. feeding him shots and occasionally disappearing to the garden to smoke. you watched on anxiously. getting sly looks from eddie every now and again.

they weren’t exactly telling you much.

he nods towards the stairs, standing up and walking away. you waited a moment before following. fobbing steve off to a member of the basketball team sat next to you.

you have to open every last door and eventually find eddie perched against the sink in the bathroom. gnawing on the skin around his fingernails.

‘finally,’ he remarks, throwing his hands up.

you lock the door behind you and stand opposite him, ‘so? what did he say?’

eddie sighs, finishing off his drink, ‘well, the bad news is that he definitely thinks you had something to do with it.’

‘what?’ you hiss, widening your eyes at how nonchalantly he just said that.

‘but,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘he thinks steve’s involved.. some jealous ex thing, he wasn’t really making sense at this point.’

you exhale, so jonathan doesn’t necessarily think you killed nancy. just that you helped steve do it. which wasn’t really any better.

‘fuck,’ you sigh, rubbing your forehead. where the fuck do you go from here besides the obvious?

‘hey, maybe it’s not all that bad.. he doesn’t think it was you exactly, we could just.. convince him it was someone else?’

‘he thinks it was steve,’ you say pointedly, ‘my boyfriend? the entire reason we started this shit in the first place?’

‘yeah so.. we frame someone else. one last kill.. murder-suicide. someone you really have it in for,’ he shrugs, his calm demeanour was really irking. he should be more scared.

you ponder for a second, you didn’t really hold hate for anyone apart from nancy. well, maybe there was a few people. tommy fucking hagan for one. steve’s desperate best friend who you were sure definitely wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

but why would he murder any of these people?

maybe nancy was some weird homoerotic jealousy thing.. higgins because he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble? leaving jason, who you were sure he’d never even spoken to.

‘i don’t know,’ you shake your head, stuck on where to go from here.

killing jonathan was an option. get rid of him before he could spill anymore of his stupid theory to anybody else. he was the only person that had suspected you.

the police had partially moved on from the school. looking further into the community for answers. grilling innocent people on their whereabouts last week.

someone bangs on the door, screaming about needing the bathroom and interrupts your entire conversation.

you hadn’t thought about how you’d get out of the bathroom with eddie. how strange it looked the two of you being in here alone.

you look up at him and then the window. his eyes follow your gaze and he immediately shakes his head no.

‘no. i’m not jumping out of the fucking window, are you crazy?’

‘what else are you gonna do?’

‘why don’t you go out the window? i was in here first,’ he hushes, the desperate party goer now slamming the door.

‘i’m not going out the window,’ you look around desperately for anyway out of this, ‘get in the bath.’

‘what?’

‘bath,’ drawing back the curtain and gesturing for him to get in.

he scoffs but admits defeat as he climbs into the white tub, it was a hell of a lot better than falling thirty feet to the ground.

you pull the curtain back, hiding him behind the thin plastic. gathering yourself for a moment before opening the door.

the desperate attendee in question is jonathan. looking a pale shade of green and covering his mouth. he doesn’t even acknowledge you before pushing past, hunching over the toilet and emptying his stomach.

god bless eddie who was now guaranteed to be stuck in the bathroom for at least another hour.

it gives you a small giggle as you make your way back to steve. now stood up, wildly gesturing around and still boring the pants off of everyone in the room.

-

the party had died down in the early hours and you’d managed to get steve to bed. though, it was a struggle carrying him up the stairs. even now he was talking about nancy and jason. you’d wanted to just let him go. let him fall and then maybe he’d shut up about his dead ex.

eddie had escaped back downstairs at some point and had passed out next to robin on the couch, lying over each other in a mess of drunken limbs.

steve falls asleep sprawled over the bed, one arm draped over your waist, rambling about how good you were and that you always do so much for me.

he had no idea.

you hadn’t really been sleeping lately, far too much swirling around your brain to shut it off. horrifying nightmares of the pool of blood surrounding nancy. the gargling sound higgin’s had made as he met his end. the sheer look of terror on jason’s face as eddie had taken his life.

though you must’ve dozed off at some point. being woken by steve’s groaning.

‘hungover?’ you ask, opening one eye to peek at him.

‘you could say that, yeah,’ his voice rough, one arm extending out to pull you closer.

‘you’re lucky i bought you up here.. you’re heavy as shit,’ you chuckle, running your fingers through his messy hair.

this is why you had to do what you did. for moments like these. where it all seemed worth it.

‘mhm thank you,’ he squints at you, a small smile on his face, ‘definitely feel better waking up next to you.’

you return the smile, humming in response.

‘y’know what would make me feel even better?’ he states huskily, moving on top of you, his smile replaced with a little smirk.

‘hmm? what’s that?’ fingers intertwining in his hair, moving your legs for him to slip between.

he responds by kissing your lips. you ignore the smell of alcohol and last nights party, returning the kiss. you two hadn’t had sex since.. well, since before you’d brutally killed his ex girlfriend. not for lack of trying, though.

his hand slides up your thigh, reaching your pajama shorts while his tongue makes its way into your mouth. his fingers toy with the elastic waistband and you move your hips against him, feeling his growing erection.

your shorts are halfway down your legs when the door knocks. eliciting a deep groan from his throat, although he doesn’t pull back in hopes they’d go away.

they don’t. knuckles wrap against the wood once again.

‘what’d you want?’ he hollers, still on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress either side of your shoulders.

the door creaks open and you’re not at all shocked to see eddie stood in the doorframe, ‘we uh- we wanted to make coffee.. couldn’t figure out your machine,’ he utters and you swear you can see the slightest smirk.

steve exhales sharply, ‘seriously?’

‘yeah man.. people are dying down there,’ eddie states, as if it’s the most serious subject in the world.

steve looks back at you, ‘i’ll be two minutes,’ planting one last kiss before rolling off of you with a grumble.

you pull the duvet up, eddie’s gleaming eyes not leaving you once as steve pulls on his discarded jeans from last night.

‘lead the way, coffee man,’ eddie laughs, still looking at you.

steve pushes past him, making his way down the hallway but eddie doesn’t follow. lingering in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

‘dickhead,’ you mouth, attempting to bore holes in his head with your eyes. he most definitely waited for the perfect moment to come and interrupt. it was kinda his thing.

‘whoops,’ he shrugs, turning to follow steve down into the kitchen.

good god you could’ve slammed his head into the damn doorframe until that stupid look was wiped right off of his face.

you give steve five minutes before huffing and getting out of bed, walking down to the full kitchen. you can vaguely hear robin and steve arguing over something stupid.

eddie clocks you first, eyeing your exposed thighs before meeting your gaze. same sly grin on his face.

you roll your eyes, ignoring his very existence and wrap your arms around steve’s waist, laying your cheek on his spine.

he jumps slightly but quickly realises who the hell is touching him and settles into the embrace, still trying to demonstrate how to use a coffee machine to robin. ignoring the feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into your back.

-

you tumbled into the back of his van, suddenly extremely grateful that he’d decided to bring this instead of your moms car. though the risk of being seen in this death trap was much higher.

you’d gone to tommy’s house to try and end this shit tonight. luckily, his bedroom was on the ground floor, there’s be no scaling of any buildings tonight.

it hadn’t particularly gone to plan though. you’d perched on either side of his window for what felt like forever when he stumbled in, carol fucking perkins in tow. of course. shit could never go to plan, could it?

you’d had to call it off. having never tackled a double kill before, you were not going to try tonight. no, it wasn’t worth it. not when all you were doing was trying to end this shit.

you yank the mask off, lifting the black polyester gown over your head, your shirt rising up as it’s launched into the corner. of course he’s watching, desperate for any last slither of skin.

does murder make you horny? was it the fucking mask? is that what this was? a mask kink?

his bottom lip between his teeth was driving you nuts. you wouldn’t ever do this. not normally. but you move over to him on your knees, not bothering to fix your shirt.

he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt whatever unintelligent spiel he was about to come out with, pressing your lips to his, clambering onto his lap.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist, working on fully removing your shirt. he lifts it up and over your head, resuming the passionate kiss as soon as it reached the dirty van floor.

you waste no time and reach between your bodies, grabbing at his belt buckle and undoing the metal clasp. the kiss messy, full of spit and tongues as you huff, struggling to remove his jeans.

there’s no words spoken, just a silent and slightly aggressive need to get inside of you as quickly as possible. your lacy underwear dragged down your thighs, almost in shreds at the ferocity he’d pulled them down.

your arms hung over his shoulders as he positions himself at the entrance of your throbbing cunt, lowering yourself onto him with a low moan. pausing for a moment to adjust to the fullness.

you don’t wait long before beginning to move, bouncing on top of him, only encouraged by the grunts and filthy words coming out of his mouth. picking up the pace, bare knees scraping against the rough ground of the van.

you throw your head back, whimpering as he begins to buck up into you. his hand slides up from your chest, finding place around your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes, your hips clashing against each other as his thrusts get harder, letting him take full control of the situation.

his hand moves down, palming your breast, his teeth almost splitting his bottom lip as he bites down on the skin. deep grunts slipping out of the small gap.

you look back at him, mouth hung open, ‘shit.. i’m gonna..’ the angle hitting perfectly, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your clit at just the right momentum.

‘yeah?’ he barks back, reaching his own climax, thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls clench around him, coming to your own high.

‘fuck,’ you whine, writhing above him, stilling your hips. pausing for a moment to come back to earth. to realise you were in the back of eddie’s old rusted van, his cock still inside of you.

you slide off, perching beside him, scrambling to find your discarded clothes and your long lost sense of dignity.

you pull the strap of your bra back up onto your shoulder, avoiding eddie’s eyes and fumbling for your shirt.

‘that’s not happening again,’ pulling your shirt over your head. it was like an immediate overwhelming feeling of guilt. every time.

‘you said that last time,’ he laughs, sitting back against the inside wall of his van, re-doing his belt.

you glare at him but don’t honour his remark with a response, gathering your things and shoving them into your small bag.

‘that one was all you, remember that,’ he adds, wiping his sweaty face with his t-shirt before pulling it on.

‘maybe if i wasn’t cockblocked, i wouldn’t be so.. frustrated,’ you sneer, crawling over to the double doors.

‘you can just say you want to fuck me.. the world isn’t going to end if you do,’ he shrugs.

‘yours might if you keep speaking like that,’ you warn, going to open the door.

eddie stops you before you can, a hand on your outstretched arm, ‘wait.’

‘what now?’

‘are we really doin’ this with tommy?’ he asks, suddenly completely stoic.

you exhale, ‘i don’t see how else we can end this,’ shrugging, ‘we have to.’

he nods slightly, avoiding your eyes, ‘okay.. as long as you’re sure.’

‘i am,’ you assure, ‘and then we go back to normal.’

-

since school had been called off for the foreseeable an array of parties had cropped up, including another at steve’s house. you think he just didn’t want to be alone. his parents were on another trip out of town and the house was so big, it’d be stupid not to gather everyone together in his house.

tommy was going to be there. you’d made sure of it with steve, asking under the guise of wanting to know all attendees just in case.

eddie was going to lure him away from the party with promises of a free joint. lucky for you, steve’s house backed onto a large, creepy forest where you’d be waiting, ready to get rid of tommy and dressing him in your murdering costume.

sneaking away from steve would be the hardest part, constantly clutching onto your hand and desperate to not get as drunk as last time in hopes he’d get lucky tonight.

eddie was waiting on your cue, you’d go out first and wait for them both in the forest. everything you needed was hidden out there before the party started.

‘i’m gonna go freshen up and get another drink, i’ll be back,’ you smile at steve, patting his arm and wriggling away from his hold.

‘i’ll come,’ he says, following you in standing up, a quickie in his bathroom would very much suffice.

‘no.. no it’s your party, stay here.. i’ll be five minutes.. ten tops,’ you nod, just praying that he wouldn’t insist.

he doesn’t. thank god. and you slip out of the house through the back door and out of the mossy garden gate, making sure the gaggle of teens in his backyard wouldn’t see you. they were too drunk to even care.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you find the tree you’d stashed everything behind, probably slightly unwise to do this all in the dark.

eddie springs into action the second you’d left, having already been chatting to tommy about the promise of weed, it doesn’t take long to get him to follow.

‘nah, let’s go to the woods.. i don’t want everyone bothering me for freebies y’know?’ eddie coax’s him out of the back garden and further into the forest where you were waiting.

a branch snaps to the left of your hiding spot and you can hear tommy’s irritating voice get louder as they get closer.

as soon as you appear from behind the tree, eddie grabs onto tommy’s arms, holding them in place behind his back.

‘woah woah, what the fuck are you doing?’ tommy scrambles, eyes wide and darting around the darkened forest.

‘oh tommy,’ you coo, walking over to the ginger and shoving the makeshift gag over his mouth, muffling his screams, ‘i wish it didn’t have to be this way.’

you throw the frayed rope to eddie and he wraps it around tommy’s wrists, tying it in what you hope is a tight knot. you’d known that realistically eddie couldn’t overpower tommy for long and as soon as the adrenaline hit, he’d be fighting back stronger.

eddie kicks the back of his knee and he falls down onto the ground, kicking his feet in the dirt, trying with all his might to get free from the ties.

eddie was hyper aware of your decision not to use the mask, the party continuing somewhere in the background, ‘we need to be quick,’ he presses, gritting his teeth as tommy thrashes around beneath him.

‘i am,’ you glare at him.

see, the plan was to frame tommy. make out that he’d dragged you into the forest. attacked you first. you’d just acted in self defence and got him before he could get you. even prepared to sustain a few injuries for good measure.

tommy shakes his head desperately, looking up at you with tearful eyes, the knife reflecting off his glossy eyes. he looked utterly pathetic and you’d wondered how many poor people he’d instilled this level of terror in.

tommy was an asshole, through and through. a real bully. and you’d detested the fact steve was still friends with him. even if it was because they’d been friends for so long as steve tried to tell you.

‘it’s not nice being on the receiving end now, is it?’ you poke him with the sharp knife, bent down to his level.

no no. he incoherently mumbles through the gag. he’d seemed to calm down slightly, maybe convincing himself that you were playing some cruel joke on him and he wasn’t actually about to die.

‘it’s a shame, really,’ you pout at him, ‘steve really likes you.. god knows why, i bet he’ll be really sad that you’re gone.. oh well.’

tommy’s breathing is laboured, sweat pouring from his forehead and you step between his legs, gripping onto the handle of the knife.

maybe that was a mistake as his legs clamp together, trapping yours in between his causing you to topple down onto him. cursing as you hit the ground, the knife falling somewhere in the dust.

‘shit,’ eddie hisses, stumbling to find the knife as tommy writhes around, trying to grip onto something, anything that’ll help him.

you get your bearings again, standing up and placing a foot on tommy’s back as he attempts to army crawl away from you.

‘you fucking idiot,’ you say through gritted teeth, eddie finds the knife amongst the leaves and hands it back to you, cussing at tommy for making him crawl around in the dirt.

you plunge the knife into his back, blood immediately soaking through his t-shirt as his arms flap around. a muted scream escapes the gag and you twist the knife slightly before removing it from the wound.

for good measure, eddie gives him a swift kick to the ribs, stopping any attempt at getting back up. you stab him again, this time in the side as if it was a desperate attempt to get him off of you in the pretend struggle.

he groans, head dropping to the floor, eyes drooping as he fights the imminent death. the blood seeps into the ground, colouring the dried autumn leaves a shade of red.

you watch as his movements get slower, weak attempts at shouting for help in his final breaths. until they stop. and he lays lifeless on the mud in front of you.

you swallow before looking at eddie who had that psychotic look on his face. it should’ve scared you, his eyes glinting with pure evil intentions. but it doesn’t. you know exactly how he felt. the euphoric feeling coursing through your veins.

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. when his eyes meet yours, that familiar feeling throbs in your stomach. were you turned on by this? or was it just a need to excrete the energy that had built up inside?

you’re quickly snapped out of whatever weird trance you’re in when the party’s music stops and calls of your name ring out in the back yard.

shit. steve was definitely wondering where the fuck you’d gone. tommy had taken slightly longer than anticipated to get rid of.

you push the knife into eddie’s hand, ‘cut me,’ offering your arms to him.

‘no, what the fuck?’

‘eddie it has to look like a fight, cut me!’ you insist, almost grabbing the knife and doing it yourself.

he hesitates, ‘shit shit shit,’ he exclaims, lifting the knife to your arm.

‘do it!’

he does, sliding the knife across your arms and slashing the skin, drawing blood instantaneously.

you bite down on your lip, humming at the searing pain but urging him to continue. gesturing to your midriff area, blood dripping from your arms.

he glances at you quickly before pulling the knife across the skin, cutting open your shirt in the process. you nod over to tommy, if he was found tied up and gagged, you’d have another problem on your hands.

eddie saws off the rope, stuffing it into his jacket pocket alongside the gag. it had been planned meticulously you see, eddie was going to hand you off to whoever you saw first in the garden, rush off to ‘call the police’ and rid himself of any evidence in his van. everybody too preoccupied with your wounds to notice him disappear.

the police would come and you’d put your sixth grade drama classes to good use, telling them that tommy had pulled you out into the woods and just went crazy, slashing and stabbing at you. but oh no he’d dropped the knife and in your desperate attempt to survive you’d picked it up and stabbed him instead.

you were sure you could improvise if it really came down to it. it wasn’t like you weren’t actually in pain, the gash on your stomach stinging as the hem of your shirt rubbed against it.

eddie throws his arm around your waist, walking back to the now quiet party, ‘so i just.. found you out here, right?’

‘right,’ you breathe, gripping onto his denim jacket and preparing for the performance of a lifetime, ‘you were getting some fresh air.. heard a scream and found me.’

you near the gate and turn to nod at eddie, pulling your best in pain face as he swings open the gate. horrified party goers turn towards you, mouths wide at your gushing wounds.

you can vaguely see steve pushing through the crowd, sprinting over to take you from eddie’s hold.

‘what- what happened? what did you do?’ steve shouts, taking ahold of your arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘i-i didn’t do anything.. she was just out there like that.. i don’t know,’ eddie stutters, looking at you to back him.

‘it wasn’t.. it wasn’t eddie, steve.. tommy,’ you nod, putting on your best terrified face, clinging onto steve’s shirt as he sits you down on one of the garden chairs.

‘tommy? what are you saying?’ his eyes go wide at the accusation, crouching down to your level, keeping one hand pressed to the gash on your stomach.

it wasn’t really deep enough to cause any serious problems but christ was there a lot of blood.

‘he.. told me to follow him.. that you were out there, so- so i did.. and then.. there was a knife..’ you trail off, looking down at your wounds, hands beginning to shake.

you were really selling it, god, if this shit was a movie you’d for sure be owed a few awards for this performance. it was easy to cry seeing as eddie’s knife work actually was pretty painful. burning as the blood leaked into your clothes and onto steve’s hand.

it was the longest night of your life. spending hours at the hospital patching you up and making sure there were no internal injuries. and then carted off to the police station the second the nurse had okayed you going home.

steve followed along, waiting on the uncomfortable chairs as you re-told your story for the umpteenth time. ensuring that every detail was the same as the last time you told it. occasionally letting a few tears fall but putting on your best brave face so the officers take pity on you.

they do eventually. telling you that you’re so incredibly strong and they’ll be in contact soon about how they’re proceeding with this all. it worked though. they’d bought your story and you could get back to some sort of normality.

just this time without nancy or tommy fucking hagan trying to interject themselves in your relationship. the thought of having steve to yourself, finally, was enough motivation to sell this damn story and get it done with.

-

you hadn’t really thought about the implications of being the one to finally catch and kill the ‘infamous hawkin’s killer’. turns out just about everyone in the town now worshipped you. you were practically famous.

kids at school would come to you in the hallways, giving their sorry’s and telling you just how heroic you were.

it was sort of nice. well, after pushing aside the burning guilt inside of you.

you couldn’t fester on it too much though. what was the point? even if you did come clean at this point, who would’ve believed you? it was over. no reason to live in the past. it’s not like you could bring anyone back to life, so why not enjoy the glory?

steve was very clearly also enjoying the second-hand fame, making a point to throw his arm around you in the hallway and making sure everyone knew that you two were together.

in the whirlwind of shit you’d kind of neglected everyone else. especially eddie. though, you were kinda glad that part of it was over. you didn’t need to be reminded of the shit you’d done every time you saw dark curly hair. about what you’d done together.

he bounded up to you one day at school, ‘i need to talk to you,’ his voice hushed, hand gingerly grabbing your arm.

‘i’m kinda busy right now eddie,’ you reply, grabbing your books from your locker, trying your hardest not to look at him.

‘it’s important,’ he dips his head, ‘it’s about.. you know..’

‘well then it’s not important,’ you bit back, slamming your locker shut.

‘please.. i-i don’t know what to do,’ he pressed, desperate to get you to listen.

‘find me at lunch or something.. i’ve gotta go,’ you walked off, finding steve who was waiting for you up ahead, disregarding whatever eddie was talking about immediately.

it didn’t matter now.

-

‘steve?’ you call out. if his parents car wasn’t there, which was rarely, you’d just walk in. he’d get you your own key if he could.

you’d move in if it were up to you. since everything had died down a tad, you’d been closer than ever. exactly why you’d done everything in the first place. it was perfect.

there’s no response, which is odd. his car was outside and the door was unlocked. usually he’d come bounding downstairs at the sound of the door closing. nothing.

you pull a face and swing round into the kitchen, wondering if he’d just not heard you. nope. empty.

‘steve?’ you ask again, met with the exact same silence as before.

‘if you’re playing some prank on me, i will punch you,’ you warn, beginning to climb the stairs.

still nothing.

his bedroom door was closed which was also usual if his parents weren’t home but maybe he’d fallen asleep after basketball and couldn’t hear you.

you twist the handle, slowly opening the door so that you could scare him.

you’re met with the image of steve’s limp body bundled into the corner, head hanging down to his chest. your stomach flips, not knowing if he was even still alive.

‘he’s not dead, don’t worry,’ eddie’s voice calls out, appearing from behind the en-suite door.

your eyes widen at the sight of him. what the fuck had he done?

‘eddie.. what the fuck? what have you done?’ you manage to croak out, slowly moving towards steve’s body.

‘i wouldn’t if i were you,’ he comes further out of the bathroom, knife in hand, pointing the sharp edge at you.

you stop dead, holding a hand out as if to offer peace, ‘what do you want?’ you breathe, chest heaving.

he flicks the knife at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down, ‘i’ll explain.. you should sit though.’

you oblige, sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress, flitting between steve and eddie who was now making his way to you.

‘i-i don’t understand.. what’s going on?’ you blink, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

‘well.. as i’ve been trying to tell you for the past month, the cops found my dna on that knife you used to kill mr. hagan.. had my shit on file from some stupid drug charge last year,’ the corners of his mouth curled into a small grin.

‘wh-what?’

‘oh yeah,’ he nods, now towering above you, ‘haven’t left me alone since.. see, at the school, that shithead janitor saw two people running away from the crime scene and they’ve come to the conclusion that i must be involved. i mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ his eyes are dark, menacing.

you’d never been scared of him before. not even when he’d spilled jason’s guts in front of you. but he genuinely terrifying now. as if he was possessed.

‘eddie.. i didn’t- i’m sorry, we can fix this,’ you nod, a desperate attempt to reassure him, ‘hawkin’s police are fucking stupid.. we, we can come up with some story.. i’ll help you.’

‘yeah, you will,’ he laughs and it sounds demonic, nothing like him, ‘see i’m pretty much fucked.. so i had a thought,’ the knife flings around in his hand, still aimed toward you, ‘wouldn’t it be just so killer, heh.. ya’ see what i did there, if mr. ghostface’s final kill was the queen of hawkins.. the invincible girl, no longer invincible.’

your lower lip begins to quiver, tears welling in your eyes. if you weren’t in this predicament you’d throw up. finally understand the terror you’d inflicted on so many people.

‘you don’t have to do this.. there’s still a way out.. for both of us,’ you swallow, trembling as he is mere inches away from you.

‘oh but i do,’ the cold metal of the knife meets your cheek, stinging as the tears inadvertently roll down your face, ‘it was you who dragged me into this fucking mess and just left me to catch the blame on my own.. you don’t get to live if i’m going down.’

you can’t see him clearly at this point, a blurry vision of dark hair and evil, menacing eyes.

you’re angry. angry at yourself for getting into this situation. angry for ever trusting eddie fucking munson. it’s like a fire rising from your stomach. the same rage you felt as nancy begged for her life.

‘i was gonna make him watch,’ he nods his head towards steve, ‘but i don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,’ a roar erupts from his stomach, a psychotic laugh as the knife runs down your cheek surely drawing blood.

‘please,’ you plead, trying one last time to make him listen, just let you go and it could all be forgotten about.

‘n’aww, it’s kinda pathetic that you, of all people are begging for me to save you,’ he laughs again, moving the blade to your exposed neck.

your face scrunches in anger and the back of your forearm comes up to knock the knife out of his hand. it clatters to the floor and you take the opportunity to stand, barging past eddie and going straight for the door.

‘you bitch,’ he spits, jumping up and just about managing to grab onto your sleeve, jerking your back towards him.

his fingers dig into your arm, spinning you around to face him. a ferocity on his face that you hadn’t seen before. he wasn’t even this angry with jason.

his free hand comes up, landing a solid backhanded shot at your face. knocking the wind out of your stomach. you stumble for a moment, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in your head.

in the chaos, you trip over steve’s extended foot, landing on his carpet with a thud. eddie takes advantage of the higher ground, shoving you over fully. dropping to his knees, placing them either side of your rib cage, his full weight on top of you.

you struggle to regain your breath, balling his t-shirt in your fist, mouth wide as your lungs refuse to fill back up.

‘eddie..’ you manage to gasp out, voice hoarse. a desperate plea.

he scoffs, ‘it’s too late.. i can’t help you now,’ his hands come up to your neck, aggressively pressing down against your trachea, knocking any last air from your throat.

his hands tighten. his breathing heavy as your vision goes black from the lack of oxygen. your nails dig into his wrist in a last ditch attempt to get him off of you.

‘this could’ve all been so easy.. this is your fault,’ he frowns, staring down at you as your legs kick out beneath him, ‘i did this.. for you,’ he’s panting as if he was the one being strangled to fucking death.

the fuzzy feeling in your head started to feel good, like there was no point in fighting this anymore. it was almost calming. warm and welcoming.

your eyes close fully, surrounded by darkness and that uncertain feeling of what was to come next. this was it. this was your karma. it was deserved. you’d taken so much from other people, now it was your turn.

eddie’s body is thrown off of you, a jumble of voices invade the room but you’re too weak to even open your eyes. falling into what you assume was a certain death.

-

well, you weren’t dead. the bright white lights pretty much solidified that fact when you opened your eyes. you knew damn well that there were no pearly gates waiting for you on the other side.

you blink, unsure of what you were even looking at. the beeping sound confirms that you were in hospital, the sterile smell filling your nose as you come around.

two heads appear above you, though you can’t fully make out who the fuck it is.

‘ma’am?’ one of the heads calls out, his voice ringing in your ears.

your mouth tastes like metal. dry and gross. it makes you want to barf.

‘ma’am..’ he says, more certain this time, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement with an edward munson?’

[icallhimjoey]

Never Over

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Following “Only Now”, “Over Now” and “Then Again”, the story continues. You agreed to have coffee with Eddie, because Eddie needs to speak to you. Sure, he wrote that letter, but he needs to have an actual conversation. So you do, and then, afterwards, it sort of… all just, goes to shit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, mentions of smut, angst, substance abuse, hard drugs, alcoholism, lots of being sick, addiction, codependency, withdrawal symptoms

Author’s note: So, I was really convinced that this story was over for me. That the three prior parts to this would remain a trilogy, and that, if I were to ever write for Eddie again, it would be something entirely different. But then I got a message from my girlie and, shit. Here we are.

Wordcount: 10.7K

(find all four parts of this story here)

The rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the vehicle did a good job of slowly letting Eddie fall asleep. It quickly became too difficult to keep his heavy eyelids open still, but the wide grin on his face was there to stay.

It was late, and the day had been long, but Eddie was happy. So very happy. Everything was coated in a light layer of joy, satisfaction, contentment, fulfillment and love. Even grumpy band members with snarky comments coming from the other bunks didn’t spoil his mood.

They weren’t rose-tinted glasses that falsely made him think everything was perfect, because he knew they very much weren’t perfect. However, there was a beauty in being sure.

Eddie felt sure, and Eddie would tell everyone that he felt sure all the time.

You, on the other hand, were very consistently unsure. About everything. Constantly.

The entire week leading up to meeting Eddie for coffee after Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding you’d been unsure. Eddie wanted to talk. Had to get things off his chest. And you’d said, or, had written in your case, that you’d go to meet him. But you were so very unsure about the whole thing.

You were very hesitant. Completely in two minds. On unsteady footing. Wobbly legs. Constantly all up in your head, overtaken by thought and hesitation. Yes, you were going to meet Eddie for a coffee because, why not? But no, you really shouldn’t go to meet Eddie, should you? Especially not after regret found you fast after what you’d done. It was sort of waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, where you spotted it in a huge mirror and it kind of scared you.

The person staring back at you was someone who just cheated on her boyfriend. With Eddie. Who was still upstairs, in Nancy and Jonathan’s bridal suite. Asleep.

Regret.

It immediately made you want to sneak back upstairs and take that note that you’d left. You should have never fucking done that. Everything about it had been delicious, but, at what cost? Thank God you at least looked fine. You’d been on top for a reason; not a hair was out of place. No one was to suspect anything had happened.

“Hey,”

Except maybe Steve.

“Where’s Eddie?”

You looked at Steve in the large mirror as you smoothed out your dress, and you didn’t really know what to say. You didn’t want to lie to your friend, but you could hardly tell him the truth, could you?

“Where’s Matt?” 

You omitted Steve’s question with one of your own, as if knowing where Matt was at influenced the answer you’d give him. It would, actually, but that’s not what you wanted Steve to think.

Too late though.

Steve looked at you a second before answering, “Joyce has got him in a death grip, actually got him onto the dance floor– hey, are you okay? Did Eddie leave?”

“I’m fine,”  you smiled, turned to Steve and tried to let your smile reach your eyes. “We talked.”

You did talk. Well, Eddie talked. Eddie got to say a lot of things, needed to get things out that you only half-listened to.

“Long talk,” Steve raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue. The judgment coming from him made you roll your eyes.

“Yea, well, there’s lots of things to talk about, isn’t there?”

You walked past Steve, ready to get back to the party, but Steve grabbed you by the arm before you could.

“You wanna be honest with me?”

“Steve,” you pleaded, not wanting to get into it. The ‘not now’ followed unspoken, silently. You were trying to do your best to keep all the bad feelings at bay. Everything was so fun a minute ago, you’d been so in control of everything. High on power. Where had all of it gone all of a sudden? You realised just then how fleeting all of it had been.

“Where’s Eddie?” Steve asked again.

“Upstairs.”

Steve’s expression fell and his grip loosened in surprise. You took your chance to escape him and power-walked as fast as your heels could carry you, back into the solarium. You saw Steve enter seconds after you did and were glad he hadn’t gone up to find Eddie but had instead decided to stay out of it.

Smart man.

Smart men minded their business.

But then you saw him walk over to Robin and nod his head before stepping outside with her following his tails. There was no way they weren’t going to talk about you. But, so what? They could talk. You made the conscious decision to not care, because your boyfriend, the very one who didn't dance, was on the dance floor, getting instructions from Jim Hopper as Joyce tried her best to get him to follow her lead. They had every onlooker in stitches.  

Then suddenly something panged in your chest and realisation dawned.

Matt was too good for you.

You didn’t deserve someone like him.

Fuck.

Look at that goofy goober. There wasn't a bad bone in that body.

You were going to have to tell him. Tell him everything. Oh no, and he fucking loved Eddie too. Loved Corroded Coffin. Matt was such a fan, and you had just... ruined all of it, hadn’t you?

Shit.

You saw Hopper applaud proudly, booming voice going, "You got it, kid!" when Matt got something right, and he laughed as Joyce encouraged him, praising him for even trying with her at all.

Yea. You were going to have to tell him.

Not today, though. But soon.

Your coffee meeting with Eddie hadn't gone like you had expected. You hadn't known what to expect at all, really, but you had never anticipated for Eddie to be quite so brutal. So toxic. In a way it helped, because it just proved to you that Eddie was still Eddie, no matter how honest and up front he was now.

He was just sober now. Had a bit more insight and knew how to use his words right.

Walking into the coffee shop, you saw that Eddie was in disguise, already sat at a table in the far back. He had his hood up and was wearing sunglasses indoors which inadvertently only pulled more attention towards him, but it was whatever. It's what celebrities did, and sometimes it genuinely helped, so Eddie wore the uniform of a rockstar that didn't want to be bothered. You got yourself a coffee and sat down opposite him.

You kept your coat on and gave a tight lipped smile as Eddie removed his sunglasses and reached across the table to grab onto your forearm for a moment in greeting as he smiled warmly. Eddie seemed a little nervous, but excited to see you.

You were distant. Cold. You needed to be, because for seven agonizing twenty-four hour days you'd thought of everything Eddie could say that held potential to reel you back in, and you weren't going to do that to yourself.

Eddie wanted to talk. So you were going to let him talk. Talk, listen and then leave. That was the plan.

And so, Eddie talked.

Eddie talked to you with a tilted head, apologetic scrunched up eyebrows and hands that reached to touch you every time he mentioned you. Eddie talked and forgot all about his coffee.

He spoke of childhood trauma that shaped him, his attachment issues, his inability to root anywhere properly and of finding solace in familiarity. How he looked for escapes, easy fixes to cure him from the outside in, and how awful he felt about everything he'd ever done to everyone to make them feel bad.

"Especially you."

You had a hard time looking him in the eye, studied your coffee instead.

"I know you don't owe me anything... not your time, not your friendship, not your love... you owe me nothing, but, please let me give. I want to give, you deserve everything that I never gave before, and I want to give it to you now."

You could tell Eddie went to therapy. These were beautifully crafted words for you, but you didn't want to let them in. Didn't want to let them touch you. Didn't want to let them come even slightly close.

"I'm glad you're better now," was the first thing from your lips. Besides small nods and tight smiles, you hadn't said anything yet.

"I really meant everything I wrote in the letter I sent,"

You nodded slowly, then took the last sip of your coffee and looked at your empty cup for moment. Eddie took your silence as an invitation to repeat the things he'd written. After listening to it for a few seconds, you cleared your throat and interrupted him.

"You don't have to–... I read your letter. I know what it said."

You sounded colder than you intended, and winced inwardly. But maybe it was good that you came off extra harsh, because you saw it take effect immediately.

Eddie's jaw tensed as he sat back in his chair a little. He looked at you a moment, then asked, "Have you told him?"

Matt.

"There's nothing to tell," you shrugged, and it made Eddie scoff. He looked around the room, as if to check if anyone else was hearing this. Nothing to tell? Come on. There was plenty to tell.

Eddie reached into his pocket and retrieved a note. Your note. The note you had left on the pillow that said you'd go have a coffee with him.

"This was cute," Eddie held it up between his index and middle finger, then flung it onto the table where it landed in between you.

You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked at your handwriting.

"So, um, thanks for this Eddie, good luck with–"

"Whoa... hey, you're not just leaving?" Eddie sat up in his seat.

"We've had coffee. You wanted to talk, and you talked."

"But... no, wait, that's not– we slept together a week ago,"

"Shut the fuck up," you panicked, hissing through your teeth as you ducked into your shoulders and looked around to check if anyone had heard him.

"Tell me," Eddie sat up, moved in closer, both elbows back on the table. "What do I need to do to make it right?"

You blinked at him, a little dumbfounded.

"You putting that on me?"

"No, I– I just... I'm just asking, is there anything you think I could do or say that will fix everything I've done?"

"That's a big ask, I don't think so,"

"There's gotta be," Eddie said, confident. "There is. I'm gonna figure it out." and he sat back, legs spread wide with a disgustingly smug look on his face.

There he was.

Therapy and sobriety could do a lot, but it couldn't erase the man that Eddie had become over the past few years.

"Okay, well... enjoy that. I'm gonna go, good luck with... I don't know, life, in general–"

And as you got up, Eddie suddenly shot a hand out towards you and grabbed you by the wrist. For a small moment, you saw 17-year-old Eddie stare at you pleadingly. He almost looked... scared.

"I can't, Eddie..."

You thought of what else to say. Something good, to make him feel better. Something sweet, to make him smile, maybe. But then all you managed to say was,

"I'm sorry."

And with that, you gathered your things, turned your back and walked out. The second you were out of Eddie's sight, you broke, face scrunching up as you let the tears flow freely.

You were going to have to tell Matt. Tonight. You had to.

But then you didn't, did you?

Because what were you going to tell him?

"Hey remember that celebrity that you really love? Yea... same."

You couldn't.

And so, you didn't.

Until a few days later, Eddie called whilst you were at work. A classic move. Eddie knew you wouldn't be able to pick up. Knew he'd catch your answering machine instead. He wanted to leave a message.

"I know I'm not supposed to be calling you, I know this is stupid and I'm crossing all sorts of lines and boundaries, and I'll probably make things worse, but, fuck... what else am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing ever happened? Pretend that I don't think of you every second of every single fucking day? I can't... I don't know how I'm supposed to... that's not– I don't even want that to be an option. I don't want to pretend that having sex with you,"

Eddie paused. Sighed.

"That wasn't just a casual fuck, that was– we used that bridal suite for what it was meant for, I don't care if you don't want to hear it. That was making love. Shit, I fucking love you, I need to... You gotta– what do I have to do, you gotta tell me. There's gotta be something. There's–"

The phone suddenly clicked.

"Hey," a male's voice answered Eddie.

"Is this um... is this Eddie Munson?"

Just over a week after you and Eddie had met for coffee, Steve was meant to meet Eddie ahead of a Corroded Coffin gig. Small venue, not far from where Eddie lived, and they were going to get Indian food. That was the plan. But then Eddie didn’t show, and Steve waited for thirty minutes before asked if he could make a call.

No one answered.

Worry shot over Steve, because Eddie had been good. Eddie had been really reliable these past few months. They didn’t meet up often, but when they did, Eddie would check and confirm their plans several times. Eddie made sure to not fuck up anymore, to be there for his friend, to make this right and prove to himself and to everyone else that he was doing better now. That he was sober and present and better.

But thinking of it now, Steve hadn’t heard from Eddie since they said they’d go for Indian food ahead of the gig Steve was going to attend. That was well over a week ago. He contemplated for a minute but then decided, fuck it, and left the restaurant. Something wasn’t right.

When he rang Eddie’s doorbell, he was buzzed in pretty quickly and it gave him a little hope. Maybe Eddie had just forgotten. Had gotten stuck in a song writing mood where he’d forget all about time and space and was just creative. In the flow. Spaced out, but in a good way. Steve crossed his fingers that Eddie was spaced out in the best way.

But stepping out of the elevator, he walked past a sketchy dude, the type of smug, criminal-looking guy Steve would usually steer clear off, who he saw had left the door open to Eddie’s luxury apartment.

Inside Steve found Eddie on his couch, expressionless, sort of dead-eyed. He didn’t even look up until Steve accidentally kicked a glass bottle that clattered loudly against the floor tiles, and even then it didn’t really seem like Eddie was fully in his body.

“No, no, no, no… Eddie, what the fuck,”

There were fresh coke lines on the table in front of Eddie and bottles just, everywhere. Some empty, some still somewhat full.

Fuck.

Eddie had relapsed, and he had relapsed hard.

The place looked ransacked, like Eddie had partied for a full week and hadn't let the cleaners in. There was just, shit, all over.

Eddie barely even heard Steve, but there was a shimmer of recognition in Eddie’s eyes when he saw him, followed by a disconnected smile.

“Harrington,”

Steve had never seen anyone like this. In this state. He knew Eddie had problems with alcohol – everyone knew of the alcoholism, it had been widely reported before. Just like everyone knew of his stint in rehab. And sure, Eddie used to deal a little in high school. They'd get high on bad quality weed together on Fridays sometimes, but Steve never thought that Eddie was the type of dude to snort actual lines of cocaine off tables. Especially not in his own home. Especially not by him fucking self, alone.

Shit, Eddie had been so good. He’d taken responsibility for the bad things and he’d been so good about everything.

“Forgot about dinner?”

Steve knew logically Eddie probably didn’t know what time it was, or even what day it was. He was about to miss another one of his own gigs, for fuck's sake. But the mention of food did something to Eddie.

Steve saw Eddie grow green in real time whilst he stayed overwhelmingly calm.

He’s about to hurl, Steve thought, suddenly panicked because Eddie’s place only had expensive furniture, the type of stuff Steve could never afford. And Eddie remaining so deeply calm only fucked with him more, because, why wasn’t Eddie rushing to a toilet?

Eddie leant forward slightly, only a little, and was just going to throw up right where he was sitting, so Steve darted around, found a sort of long vase stood in a corner and planted it right in between Eddie’s legs. Eddie immediately started filling it up, emptying his full stomach contents until Steve was sure the vein on Eddie’s forehead was going to pop and his throat had to be absolutely aching.

“This isn’t… fuck man, what are you doing? What happened?”

Eddie spit into the vase a few times, wiped a hand at his watery eyes, then at his mouth and sort of... babbled something. Steve could barely follow any of it, none of the noises sounded like actual words, until he caught your name. Eddie said your name and Steve thought Eddie was about to throw up again, but instead, Eddie looked at Steve and seemed a little more present. Sad and fucking hurt, but present.

“Ed… you can’t be–”

A heartshattering sob burst from Eddie's chest.

Eddie broke down and let himself fall onto his couch, curling up into a ball as he cried. Maybe it was the realisation of it all. Maybe it was Steve being there and Eddie being able to see the sheer fear in his friend's face. Or maybe it was just that it had been six consecutive days of this bullshit and he'd barely slept.

Steve looked around, sort of… defeated. Everything was a mess. The apartment had drugs and booze all over. Eddie was drunk, had coke crusted around his nose, was sweating, was crying and was sick. It was all fucked up. He had a gig in two hours. Steve needed to call people. Steve needed to get help. Steve needed to call someone, get help and...

He needed to get rid of all of the shit.

If Steve was going to help, he needed to start with getting all the substances out.

“Here, come on,” Steve took hold of Eddie’s arm and pulled him up. Helped him into the bathroom and sort of, propped him up next to the toilet with his back pressed against the tub. Then placed a glass of water next to him.

“Small sips,” he instructed, not even sure if that really was what was best.

Eddie's cries sounded worse in the bathroom, and Steve didn’t know what to do. Eddie’s voice echoed throughout the whole apartment now and sometimes, it was just wailing that turned into more vomiting, but then other times they were words, things like, sorry, I fucked up, I can't, I don't and your name.

Eddie kept crying your name and it made Steve aggressively wipe at his wet eyes all angrily as he collected bottles and other trash into garbage bags.

When was this shit going to fucking end?

When Steve called you, you let the call go to your answering machine.

You'd been crying and didn't need to talk to Steve right now. You knew Steve knew. Had heard from Matt, who had probably told him everything. Steve would say things like, I told you so. And, you brought this onto yourself. Shit you didn't want to hear. Truths you couldn't really face right now.

But when you heard Steve's voice on the tape, everything changed in an instant.

Steve's voice cracked, like he'd been crying and he sounded desperate. Panicked. Completely stressed out of his mind.

"I need you to come over, I'm sorry... I didn't want to call you, but you need to– I need you. Eddie's been... he's relapsed. It's bad. I don't know what– how I can–"

The phone clicked.

"Steve?"

You'd picked up , and Steve sighed a breath of relief. You were both sniffing down the line.

"I'm sorry," Steve said again.

"Where are you?"

"Eddie's apartment. It's... you need to know it's bad." Steve's voice didn't leave any room for questions. This was serious business. Steve would never call you over to Eddie's apartment if it wasn't absolutely desperately needed for you to be there.

"I'm on my way."

You'd never been to Eddie's apartment before, but you knew exactly where it was. Knew to steer clear of the area. Avoided it at all cost for a very long time, and found stupid excuses when Matt asked about it.

Steve buzzed you in and waited for you outside Eddie's front door. He needed to warn you extra before you were going to walk in, but stepping out of the elevator in a frenzy, you didn't let Steve stop you.

Just waltzed right in.

But the apartment was quiet, and it was just... messy. Kind of disgusting, actually.

You'd already been crying, emotions had been running high all day, so tears found you fast as you clasped a hand over your mouth. Steve caught up with you, said that he'd been cleaning for a little while already, but he didn't know what to do with the cocaine on the table, or the pills he found in the kitchen.

You sort of looked around in silence together for a moment.

This was insane.

You were scared Steve was going to say anything about Matt. About Matt finding out. About you and Eddie fucking in Nancy and Jonathan's bridal suite. But Steve said nothing of the sort.

"Corroded Coffin was meant to be on stage in an hour," with a broom in hand, Steve was a little relieved to now share the burden of all the horror he'd walked in on. He'd also called Eddie's manager. Said Eddie wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make it. Everything told Steve that his manager knew. Understood. But nothing else was said, nothing about drinking, or drug use, and Steve thought that maybe they already knew, because Eddie also hadn't shown up for sound check.

"Where's Eddie?"

Before Steve could say anything, you heard someone cough and retch. Bathroom.

"Wait, stop," Steve tried, but it was to no avail.

You found Eddie, arms folded over the toilet seat, messy head of hair resting atop, heaving.

"My baby," you sighed upon the sight of him, voice cracked, immediately crying. My baby? Where the fuck did that come from? Somewhere deep within, you thought. It pained you on its way out, you could feel it pull up from the pit of your stomach.

Steve frowned at it. He hadn't called you over to let you fall back into old patterns.

Eddie heard you and dove down deeper into himself, moved away a little, but remained on the toilet seat still. Refused to look at you because you weren't meant to see him like this. Ever. Pathetic excuse of a person.

"Eddie?" your voice was soft, small and high-pitched as your throat constricted with emotion as you kneeled down next to him. Eddie turned away, and when you reached a hand to softly touch, not to startle, but to comfort, you felt Eddie was shaking.

Steve stood in the door of the bathroom and looked at his two friends. The two people who'd been his best friends for a long time. One hiding his face into his arms over a toilet bowl, the other now moving from her knees onto her butt to sit with him, resting her chin on the other side of the toilet seat, one hand touching his arm, thumb slowly rubbing dry skin, waiting for Eddie to acknowledge her presence. One of them pretending they weren't even there, the other desperate for a connection to be made. Both quietly crying; your lip quivering, Eddie's shoulders shaking.

If this moment wasn't encased in the most awful, absolutely horrid circumstances, in a bathroom that could really use a fucking clean, Steve would've thought it was almost sort of romantic.

But it was bullshit, is what it was.

Seeing the two of you together like this, something dawned on Steve. Something that he somehow had always known was now staring at him, right in his face.

This was just like when you were 18 and Eddie had been sick after a house party where he'd been laughed at, had been ridiculed by some jocks. You'd sat with him all night until you'd both fallen asleep in the bathroom where you'd left mascara streaks on the floor tiles.

Or like when you'd been in a fight with your dad and Steve and Eddie found you on the steps of Wayne and Eddie's trailer. You'd hidden in their bathroom all night with Eddie on the other side of the door, softly talking to you until Steve decided, this wasn't what he'd come over to Eddie's for, and had gone home.

Or like when Steve had thrown you a surprise birthday party when you turned 19, but Eddie hadn't been able to make it because of work, and you'd just sulked all night. Steve had put so much effort into the preparations, and then, all throughout the party, he had put effort into cheering you up.

It was always the same type of shit with the two of you. Always so much effort. And it was just, never ending. This was who you were. Three friends who just... had a lot of bullshit happening, all of the time. You and Eddie always with the drama, and Steve kind of always there to help. It was always the same story. This was never gonna be over.

"Eddie, what did you do?" you whispered, and your voice revealed a little fear, but it carried mostly care.

"He fucked up is what he did,"

"Steve," you scolded.

"Wha–... am I wrong?"

Steve's anger built. Completely inappropriate, you thought. This was a delicate situation. A situation you'd been completely kept out of before. All those times you hadn't answered Eddie's phone calls all those months ago. All those times Steve told you that, Eddie was going to be fine. He was going to be fine, at some point. Get the help he needed. Get over whatever the fuck he'd been doing. You'd protected yourself and you'd listened then. Trusted that Steve was right. Gained strength in yourself and didn't allow Eddie to be a part of your life.

You had felt guilty then too, but... never like this.

This was the type of guilt that made you pick up when Steve called. The type of guilt that made you not even question going over to Eddie's apartment. That made you want to fix things. Fix Eddie. Fix all of it.

Guilt was the main emotion of the day. The real star of the show.

"Well? Eddie?"

Steve stood in that doorway still, broom in one hand, the other on his hip. Brow furrowed. He looked like his mom and his dad simultaneously, which, you weren't going to mention. You had no death wish.

"You've been crying out for her for over an hour, so I got her for you. She's here. Now what?" Steve spat.

Frustration and fear accumulated into this anger cocktail that Steve was spewing out at Eddie. Inability and helplessness, the complete not-knowing-what-to-do of it all that really didn't help. And now Eddie hid away and pretended you weren't even there and it rubbed Steve wrong.

Steve threw the broom he was still holding which landed hard on the bathroom tiles, making you flinch, before he left the two of you alone. Went back to the kitchen. Started furiously clearing counter tops. Had to not see you for a second.

"Eddie," you whispered, hoping that maybe he'd look up at you this time. Look you in the eye. You recalled how just over a week ago you'd been so dismissive of him. Heartless. Tried your best to come across it, at least. When you still thought that if you let Eddie in, he'd come between you and Matt, not realizing that... Eddie had sort of always been in between you and Matt anyway.

Cold and heartless was not the version of you that Eddie needed right now. And it wasn't the version of you that you wanted to be for him.

Eddie made small noises. You thought maybe he was going to say something, but then you saw his whole torso tense up, making Eddie hunch his back as he threw up again. Your hands were fast to push back his hair, collecting it behind his head into a ponytail that you tied with a hair tie you found near the sink. It revealed his face to you. Bloodshot eyes. Pained expression. Wet from crying. Awful skin.

Jesus Christ, it had just been over a week.

Eddie looked dead if it wasn't for blotches of colour that heaving brought to his face.

Not much came out of him. It was mostly just bile, by now.

Eddie struggled through it, stomach muscles spasming, nose snotting, eyes streaming and you had curled yourself around him all the way, like a backpack, pressing a cheek against his shoulder blade. You held him like that for a while, not really knowing what to say, or what else you could do.

A sudden loud clang made you turn your head. You caught a glimpse of Steve walking away, a huge big stinking vase now placed behind you.

"Rinse that out," Steve called out.

Yes. Good. A task. You could help by rinsing out what was very clearly a vomit filled vase, but when you were about to get up, Eddie clasped a hand onto your forearm.

"Stay," Eddie trembled.

"I'm staying, not going anywhere,"

You squeezed Eddie, carefully, but tightly. He seemed to need it.

"Just gotta clean something. I'll do it in the bath, I'll be right behind you,"

Eddie breathed heavily, tried his best to control it, to relax his stomach and not let it spasm, and let go of you. Rinsing out the vase in the bath was disgusting, but looking at Eddie helplessly sat by the toilet still, you couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of wanting to take care of him.

Wasn't that what it had always been?

Eddie would come back to Hawkins to be taken care of. And you always took care of him without asking any questions. Loved it. Loved him. Just couldn't stand him leaving every time.

Vase clean and turned upside down to drip-dry on a towel, you turned back to Eddie, stepped closer to him and that's when Eddie reached back, took hold of your leg. Tugged your jeans, pulled you down, turned a little, found handfuls of your shirt and pulled and tugged until you were sat on the floor in front of him, legs curled around his hips and his around yours. Arms folded around his back, and his strongly around yours. Embracing each other, impossibly tight, clinging, like that would cure everything.

Eddie cried again, buried his head into your neck. He smelled really bad.

"You're such an asshole," you said, your own lips quivering again. You kind of meant it, but hoped it would bring a little comic relief too.

"I'm a fuck up," Eddie agreed.

"You're both bullshit," Steve suddenly deadpanned and it made the both of you turn your faces to look at him.

"I was thinking, I really shouldn't say anything, because who am I... you know? This isn't my business. But then, you made it my business." Steve rubbed his brow, frowning deeply, clearly annoyed.

"Steve, let's not–" you tried.

"No. Let's!"

Steve crouched down right in front of you, elbows on knees, eyebrows raised high and nostrils flared. This is what Steve did when he was angry and had things to say. He'd get real close before he'd scold. Would make sure that you really heard what he had to tell you.

"I don't care what the fuck is going on here right now, between the two of you, but I'm done with it. It's always the same type of shit with you, like I'm stuck in a loop and there's no way out! Fucking groundhog day!" Steve got back up, intimidatingly towering over you, both hands in his hair before he continued.

"I'm not gonna come 'round and listen to you bitch and moan about why Eddie left this time," Steve said as he gestured a hand at you. Then he turned to Eddie. "I'm not gonna tell you–" Steve suddenly closed his eyes, breath shaking, trying real hard to keep it together. "You can't even fucking look at me straight, dude,"

Eddie was still drunk.

"I'm not gonna do it anymore. You can figure shit out for yourselves. I'm done." Steve turned, was about to walk out, but you stopped him. Said, "Steve, he relapsed," like that magically excused everything. But Steve stopped in the doorway, turned his head a little and said, "Yea, but so did you. Eddie with alcohol and whatever his dealers will sell him. You, with him."

Steve walked away. You thought maybe he'd just go into the kitchen again, but when you heard the front door slam shut, you knew he'd been serious.

You looked at Eddie.

Steve was right. Eddie had no control over what his eyes were doing.

"Let's get you clean. Then, bed."

Eddie obliged. Happy someone took the lead for him. Happy you took the lead for him.

But Eddie wasn't so happy the next morning, when he woke up at 4AM, sheets drenched in sweat. He was fucking freezing. You hadn't been able to sleep much and had set up camp in a comfortable chair that you'd moved to sit closer to the foot of Eddie's bed, where it was easier to watch TV. Volume all the way down.

"You should leave," Eddie croaked when he saw you.

"You should sleep more,"

"Slept plenty," Eddie tried sitting up, but was quickly fought back into the mattress by his own nausea. The pain in his head, in his stomach... he knew just the fix for it.

"If you think you're going to be able to find anything, I threw all of it out. Vacuumed up whatever you had lying around, washed everything else down the drain." You said it a little shaky, unsure of how Eddie was going to react.

Eddie thought for a second. He could definitely stick his nose into a dusty dirty vacuum, didn't feel like he was particularly above that type of behavior.

"There's nothing here, so go back to sleep," you were trying to fight off sleep yourself. Wanted to be awake in case Eddie would... in case something would happen.

Three days passed where you didn't leave the apartment. Three scary days and four scarier nights of caring for Eddie, never knowing if what you were doing was right, but doing them anyway.

You cleaned, finished Steve's job and made the place look tidy. Mess free. Aired it out, let Eddie complain about the cold that you skillfully ignored as you worked. You'd thrown all of it out. All the booze, the pills, the coke, the one discarded dirty syringe you found that you really hoped somebody else had used - you'd gotten rid of everything.

You asked Eddie if he wanted water, tea or a nap every time you caught him awake. And every time he'd sort of, frown at you. Didn't need your soft care, just needed a bit of... anything to take the edge of, but then, he always took you up on it. Always had a sip of water, maybe a little bit of tea and then would lay back down, always tried to go back to sleep.

Eddie slept a lot, but pain would wake him at odd hours. Always covered in sweat. Always shaking. Sometimes you'd worry he'd be sick again, but he'd growl he was just hurting.

Anger seeped out through his skin, and you knew it was never aimed at you, but you'd secretly cry once Eddie would drift off again.

On the second night you'd stayed over, you'd woken up on Eddie's couch around 1AM, went to check on him, and found Eddie drinking his mouthwash in the bathroom.

"Eddie?"

"Oh, shit, fuck–" Eddie scrambled to close the bottle, to hide it from you.

"What are you..." you took a small step back, scared of what you were witnessing.

"Don't leave," Eddie said, voice already cracking, afraid that you'd actually walk out now.

You took another small step back which urged Eddie to launch himself at you, arms encasing your strongly, Eddie's damp body pressed harshly against yours in an uncomfortable hug. One you didn't participate in.

"I'll get you a change of clothes," was all you managed to say when you felt how clammy he was.

Eddie sobbed and muttered things about how pathetic he was as you helped him freshen up. You sat him down in a chair as you changed his sheets. He had to stay close, couldn't really be trusted to be left alone, not even in his own apartment, apparently.

"Go back to sleep," you said when you'd finished, and you wanted Eddie to lay back down in bed so that you could sit in that chair he was sat in now, and watch him. Hold guard. But Eddie sort of looked up at you, and you thought he was going to say something. Something sweet, maybe. Something important. But then you both heard his stomach churn, and Eddie had to make a run for it.

He threw up the mouthwash, bright blue vomit clattered into the bath. Eddie seethed with anger, told you to leave him alone. "Don't want you to see me like this," he cried, and he promised he wouldn't touch the rest of the mouthwash, but yelled at you as you washed it down the drain with shaking hands.

Eddie cried. Vomited until it was all bile again, and you urged him to eat.

"Eddie, what if you die?"

"I won't fucking die,"

"You drank mouthwash!"

Eddie retched more, unable to stop it and unable to quite believe people could feel pain like this.

"You wanna go back to rehab?"

Eddie looked at you as if to say, is that a threat? You looked at him, and your expression read that it was a threat. Eddie didn't want to go back to rehab. Really, really didn't. Couldn't have you near him, but absolutely couldn't have you far. He reached for you, scared fingers dug into your skin, and you held him whilst he held on.

On the third day, you'd gotten Eddie to have a little soup and a few bites of an apple slice. Quite a bit of water, too, and Eddie seemed calmer then. Seemed to finally have snapped out of his mood.

You sat up on top of the covers in bed with him, and put on Pretty Woman.

"I'm not watching that big mouthed wench," Eddie had objected. Didn't want to watch romantic comedies with you. Happy people with happy faces and huge fucking smiles.

But you pretended you hadn't heard him, kept the movie playing until you were both sat against Eddie's headboard leant into each other, Eddie's head resting upon your shoulder and your cheek pressed into his hair.

This was nice, you thought. Almost like old times, a little.

Eddie would cramp up in waves. He'd be fine for a while, lucid, and present, and then suddenly, he'd be writhing. You always had a bucket ready, and helped him through it. Eased him back into his pillows, and would climb back into bed next to him. Always over the covers.

It was awful, but this was the process, you thought. It was complete misery, all kind of gross and disgusting, and Eddie was mortified but grew clingy. Needed you there. And so you were, but always over the covers.

That was, until Eddie, when the movie was nearly finished, groaned a little. His face was blotchy, eyes all red rimmed and his hair a tangled mess. You forgot what Eddie looked like without his bangs stuck to his forehead. He always seemed to be wet.

"You all right? What do you need? Water? I can make you more soup,"

"No, I'm just... cold,"

Eddie let his teeth chatter, and you looked around the room for a second.

"Eddie, it's fucking boiling in here,"

"Can you turn the heating on?"

The heating was on.

You took a good look at him. He didn't look as grey as he had a few days ago, but he still looked miserable. Sick like you'd never seen sickness before.

"I'll run you a hot bath,"

You helped Eddie ease into the water and sat on the ledge behind him, Eddie between your legs, so you could wash his hair. Eddie always loved it when you washed his hair, would really melt under your touch as you massaged soapy suds into his curls. But, his hair was one bit bird's nest, and so now, it was an agonizing job that needed doing. You were as gentle as you could be, but Eddie would wince as you worked to detangle the matted mess in the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry, baby,"

"Why does everything hurt so much?" Eddie let his arms wrap around your calves and broke your heart as he silently cried.

Eddie let you wash him until he was all clean and then let you braid his hair after. His hands hadn't left your body since you'd helped him into the bath, and you hoped that it meant that he was over the hump. That this was a turning point, and everything was going to get better now.

That night, you'd slept with Eddie under the covers. You big spooned him. Held him tight. Whispered that everything was going to be fine, and the fact that Eddie didn't seem to be so sweaty confirmed that you were probably right.

It was all going to be fine.

At some point, Eddie turned and tried to kiss you. He pressed his lips onto yours, and for a second, you sort of let it happen. Let your mouths brush together. But it didn't feel right. Eddie was vulnerable, and you were exhausted, and it all felt wrong. So you stopped it. Broke the kiss. Moved your head away a little.

"Let me love you," Eddie whispered. "Let me love you like you always love me,"

"Later, Eddie. You're unwell,"

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine," Eddie's voice cracked.

Beautiful words that made your chest swell. But these weren't things to dive into now.

"Later, baby. These are things for later."

You didn't reject Eddie, but to Eddie, it felt a little like a rejection, and he buried his face into your neck. Hid in there and kept it there, all snuggled up, until you both fell asleep.

The next morning you stirred awake at 8AM which really felt like sleeping in at that point. Eddie was bone dry. No sweat. No tears. You even detected a little colour in his cheeks.

It was time. Eddie had eaten, had managed to keep it all inside and so, it was time.

You'd done enough.

Home.

You slipped out, wearing one of Eddie's T-shirts still, and didn't leave a note. No dumb, stupid note. None of this was cute, or funny, or in any need of a sad little note that Eddie could keep and then throw at you later. Or, like you'd done, could keep in an old shoe box with other stupid things that you couldn't just get rid of.

You just left. Went home. Sort of trusted that you'd see Eddie later. Maybe. If he really had changed, was willing to at least try to change, like he'd said.

"I'd be yours, if you'd be mine."

You wanted it to be true so badly, but his actions were going to have to speak louder than his words.

You forgot what would be awaiting you at your apartment until you actually stepped inside and were greeted by your own mess. Drawers pulled open, half your clothes on the floor, big empty spaces left where Matt's things used to be. Slapped down and broken picture frames - completely your doing, not Matt's, but glass had shattered and you'd just... left it. You had even ran a bath for yourself, and then had let the soapy water sit and grow cold, because you didn't really deserve a bath, did you?

You remembered how you'd found Eddie's voicemail message two days after he had left it, listened to it with Matt in the room, and listened to it until you heard Matt pick up the phone. The tape had caught his voice, but then it cut off. Matt knew now, but Matt was just as non-confrontational as you were, and had known for two whole days. Hadn't said a word. But the truth had now been spoken into existence with the both of you looking at each other, and there was no way either of you could pretend still. Could pretend to not have heard it. Could deny any of it.

"What else did he tell you?"

It was the worst question to ask Matt, because it revealed there was more to your and Eddie's story than you'd ever told him.

"Enough," was all Matt said, never elaborated.

So, that was it then.

You'd sat on your couch, sort of dazed, stared into space, not even able to really cry even though this was a situation that deserved tears. Then Matt slowly started packing up all his things around you. Matt had stuff all over, hadn't technically moved in with you, but really only ever spent one, maybe two nights a week at his own place. Matt didn't move around with anger, but left the place messy, dropped your things on the floor without caring to pick up after himself. Good, you thought. Stand your ground, Matt. I deserve shittier treatment.

Just before Matt had walked out, he'd said, "If it had to be someone, it's pretty cool that it was Eddie Munson."

It was just like you'd fucking said all along: Matt was too good for you. You didn't deserve someone like Matt.

Self-hatred, absolute vile loathing of every single aspect that build your person, completely consumed you. Regret. Shame. So much guilt. You felt like you needed to hurt yourself because Matt hadn't hurt you enough. He hadn't yelled, hadn't shouted, hadn't said mean things. You only started crying once Matt was gone, and that alone added to all you had to be embarrassed about.

And then Steve called and offered you the greatest distraction of all. Eddie needed taking care of. And Steve was going to let you.

Back in your home now, it all came flooding back, and you sort of fell into the same state you'd been in then. Slumped back on your couch. Crying. Drowning in a weird version of self pity, sort of overwhelmed with how shit it all was. Steve mad. Eddie a mess. Matt gone. You empty. Alone.

You just sat like that. Stared into space, tears running all the way down your neck into the collar of one of Eddie's T-shirts you were still wearing.

Then, your doorbell rang.

You looked at your buzzer a minute, not really moving.

It rang a few more times, until it stopped.

A little bit later, footsteps followed on the stairs, and then, a knock on your door. A muffled mention of your name.

"Eddie?"

You got up, opened the door and found him there.

"I rang different doorbells until someone let me in," Eddie explained, but you didn't really react to that.

Eddie was here.

Actions were going to have to speak louder than words.

He was here.

Eddie looked over your shoulder, behind you, eyes scanning your pigsty of an apartment.

"Oh, shit," he commented, looked at your tear-stained face that was still staring up at him, gaze empty, because that's how you felt. All empty.

"Okay. Come on, your turn. Go sit down." Eddie took you by the shoulders and guided you back to you couch where you let yourself fall back on your spot.

"Tea?" Eddie asked, and then answered for himself, "Tea."

Eddie made you tea. Then started tidying. Cleaning. Just started putting everything in places where he thought they belonged. Did things wrong, but you didn't correct. He took broken picture frames, threw out shards of glass and tucked the photographs into a drawer. Ran a laundry after. Emptied the bath and rinsed and scrubbed the soap rim the water had left behind. Dishes next.

Eddie was sweating, more than was normal, and you knew he was struggling still. Probably felt sick to his stomach. But he was here, and for the first time in for fucking ever, you felt your battery charge with Eddie there. Eddie was charging your battery instead of draining it. Weird, but this was it. The thing. Eddie said there had to be something he could to do fix it. This was it. Eddie was fixing it.

Eddie saw you had three messages waiting on your answering machine, then told you, "Hey, you've got three messages waiting on your answering machine. Want me to play them for you?"

You nodded.

They were all from Steve.

"Hey, are you still not back home?" followed by a heavy, frustrated sigh, "You're going to end up killing each other, you know that right?", then a silence, followed by a loud beep.

Second message.

"I hope you're not answering because you're at work, and not still wiping vomit of Eddie's chin..." a beat, then, "You're like the wrong sides of two magnets who try to keep pushing themselves together. It's not gonna work!" another loud beep.

Third message.

"If you're not answering because you don't want to talk to me, I get it... I shouldn't have called you over to Eddie's place, I didn't know what I expected to happen, but... I spoke to Matt, just that afternoon, and he... sort of explained what happened, and, seeing you and Eddie be all cutesy– it made me mad for him. Matt's a good dude, you know he didn't deserve that... but guess what he said? He was like, this is going to be the best story ever – Eddie Munson stole my girlfriend. Can you believe that?" Steve fell silent for a second, then said, "Sorry I yelled at you. Please call me back when you get this... I'll call again tomorrow if you don't."

Loud beep.

No more messages.

Eddie just looked at you, tried to gather your reaction, but you were giving him nothing.

"You OK?"

With your eyes trained on your coffee table, you gave your head a tiny shake no.

"You wanna nap? Lay down for a little bit?"

They were words you'd said to Eddie many times over the past three days. Instead of answering him, you slumped sideways, rolled yourself up in a little ball, knees against your chest. Eddie immediately stepped closer, took a throw blanket and tucked you in.

"Can I lay with you?"

Eddie hovered, but you didn't answer. Couldn't answer, your throat had closed up with all these negative emotions, all of them aimed at yourself. You didn't deserve softness right now. So then, Eddie didn't lay with you, but instead sat down in a chair. He could just sit there while you slept. Not touching, but, he was close. That was all he wanted, anyway. To be close.

You woke up when your phone rang.

Eddie was quick, tiptoed to the phone as fast as he could and hoped it hadn't woken you up.

"Hello?" he answered, voice hushed.

There was a silence on the other end of the line, and then, "Munson?"

"Harrington," Eddie smiled a little smug smile, happy he caught Steve on the phone.

"Yea?" Steve asked, and Eddie knew what he meant. "You're actually doing this?" Steve challenged.

"I think we might be... well, I am, anyway. We'll see if she'll let me."

Steve laughed, but it was humorless. It said, yea, we'll see about that dipshit. Eddie understood. Therapy had made him understand that everything was going to need proof. He'd ruined trust with everyone. This was nothing new, especially not now that he'd relapsed.

"I swear to God, Eddie. I'm not-"

"I know. I heard you the first time."

Steve scoffed.

"You seemed pretty out of it then,"

"I was," Eddie confirmed. "But you were very clear,"

"No fucking it up, Eddie,"

"I won't."

"Remember? Be mindful."

Oh, Eddie remembered.

"Hey Steve?" Eddie swallowed, knew his words weren't enough, but needed to say them anyway. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, and, um... thank you... you didn't have to, you know... just, thanks."

"You're good. Is she there?"

Eddie turned around and saw you were awake.

"Just woke up, hang on - it's Steve, you good to talk to Steve?"

You held a hand out as you sat up, knowing the cord could easily make it to your couch, and Eddie passed you the handset as he sat back down in his chair.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing out of your mouth, voice all strained.

Steve was silent for a second. He couldn't just accept that and move on.

"You were right. I'm total bullshit," you admitted.

"Hey," Eddie frowned.

"Sorry, we're total bullshit,"

That wasn't what Eddie meant, but that did make him smile. You heard Steve sigh.

"You're not bullshit. I actually think, and this is going to sound fucking wild coming from me, but I talked about it with Robin and she agrees... I think you actually might just be perfect for each other,"

Eddie was close enough to hear Steve on the other end, and he placed a hand on your knee. Let you know he agreed, too. He really fully fucking agreed.

"Stop, you're going to make me cry," you joked, but actually meant it.

"You gonna let Eddie comfort you this time?" You could hear Steve's smile in his voice, could picture it perfectly and copied it.

"I think I might, he's doing a fairly okay job right now," you looked at Eddie. "You've done plenty, Steve,"

Passage of the token. Eddie squeezed your knee.

"I love you, but..." Steve searched his mind for the right words. "But, you're just... a lot, the both of you,"

That made you laugh. He was fucking right.

"Could you still handle, like... 50 per cent of me?"

Eddie leant over, whispered, "Ask him if he can do 40, I'll easily do 60,"

"40?" you asked Steve, and Steve laughed.

"30 and it's a deal,"

Eddie heard, loudly said, "I'm not watching romantic comedies with her, dude!"

"All right, all right. 40."

You laughed and loved how it felt to laugh together, all three of you. You couldn't remember the last time the three of you laughed together like this.

"Love you Steve,"

"I love you too. Hey, is it weird if I come over? We could do a late lunch, maybe?"

Eddie took the phone from you, said, "Yea, no, that's gonna be weird,"

"What? Why?" Steve was confused, but it only lasted a second. "Oh gross, you're going to be open about fucking now, aren't you?"

"Bye Harrington,"

Eddie didn't even properly hang up the phone, but had simply dropped it to the floor instead before moving over to kiss you.

He then fucked you right there on your couch.

Afterwards you'd looked around, had said, "We're even now," and Eddie had burst out laughing. "Oh no, sweetheart, we're far from even. Are you forgetting who caused you all this trouble?" Eddie said, and when you just looked at him. He then pointed a fat finger at himself.

"Yea, but, did you not reach for a bottle after what I said to you?"

You'd placed blame for his relapse fully with yourself, and Eddie gasped, couldn't believe you were actually being serious and hugged you close.

"Baby, I'm not the way I am because of you. It's because of all the..." Eddie waved a wild arm around.

You understood.

"Foundations for this shit show were laid long before I'd ever even met you," Eddie kissed into your hair. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me again. We're not even. I've got a lot more work to do, trust me."

And so you did. Decided you were going to trust him.

Eddie got more help. More therapy. More AA meetings. More keeping busy with other hobbies, like cooking. And baking. He made sure he'd see you every day, would never stray too far, even though you literally lived above and worked in a bar... this was never going to be easy. But Eddie had you, and he promised he'd take care of you and of himself.

You found a way to be together, and then, seemed to never not be together. Joined at the hip again, but without Steve this time 'round.

Steve came over all the time, though. Visited at least once a week. For lunch, or for dinner. To watch romantic comedies with you, and Eddie would join, just because actually, if he didn't focus on her mouth too much, Julia Roberts wasn't that terrible of an actress.

The band had taken a short break, and Eddie had decided they should be open with the public about why. Said it would actually help a lot if people knew about how difficult addiction could be. Would make it less of an awkward conversation whenever he had to explain to people he was actively practicing sobriety.

And Eddie did good. Got real good at all of it again. Had good days, and then good weeks. He felt more and more himself, and Wayne recognized it too. He kind of had his nephew back, said he'd missed him a lot and hadn't known if he'd ever really would get to see him again which had made Eddie cry.

Eddie was doing good, and Eddie knew a large chunk of it was because he had you now.

But then, after a few months of doing good, touring was back on the table, and Eddie immediately grew nervous.

Loneliness was Eddie's biggest trigger, and it wasn't being alone that was an issue, because on tour, you were never really one hundred per cent alone. There were always people all over. Everywhere. All the time. The real issue was the feeling of being alone, especially when surrounded by so many. Eddie's cure for this dull ache of loneliness had always been a lil' drinky drink. Just, a little sippity sip, a tiny little drop. Just one drink, you know, to take the edge of.

Eddie knew this about himself, and so, he was nervous. Scared. Sort of, riddled with anxiety.

You'd suggested some form of training. "We can sleep apart from each other for two consecutive nights, only call each other when we can find the time, just to try it out? See what that does? And then if that goes well, do three or four nights next..."

At 3AM on that first night, Eddie had snuck his way into your apartment and into your bed. Hugged you real tight, like he'd been gone for months.

"That was only a few hours," you'd croaked after checking the time.

"Few hours too many," Eddie'd whispered.

"How are you ever going to do this?" you were more awake then, wanted to have a talk. Face this head on.

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't cling to you so much," Eddie said, worried you'd judge.

"That's all right," you were quick to make sure he didn't feel any judgment. "I quite like being clung to,"

"I promise I'll get better at this,"

"It's going to take time," you warned, knowing tour started just over a month from then.

"Someday, I'll be better." Eddie snuggled closer, eyes closed, tired.

Someday didn't come fast enough, just like you'd predicted, and so, with some creative paperwork and serious conversations with your landlord, your boss, Eddie's management and the band, arrangements had been made.

Eddie needed you there. And you had your own thing, your own personal problems, serious issues, with Eddie leaving. So, it really worked out for the best for the both of you. The solution to both of your problems was one and the same. You were going to go on tour with them.

"Did I not tell you that you're perfect for each other?" Steve had said with a goofy smile when you told him.

You became part of the Corroded Coffin entourage, not with any other specific job than just... being there. It took a some adjusting, because Eddie was different when he was Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin. There were certain expectations, and Eddie felt like people wanted him to fall into his rockstar patterns, do the things he always did when out on the road. Go to parties, bring parties back to hotel rooms, invite who ever seemed like a fun time onto the bus, drink a lot. You had no idea how Eddie would've even done this if you hadn't been there and, you'd never tell Eddie this, but you were convinced that he probably would've killed himself.

You slept on the tourbus together, had tried to squeeze into one bunk together, but that was only really doable for naps. There wasn't enough room to even roll over without shifting and scooting your whole body when you laid in a bunk alone, by yourself, so doubling up was never comfortable for long. Not for the long stretch of rest Eddie needed after shows. That's when you'd sleep on bunks opposite each other. You would remind each other how many more nights until you'd share a hotel bed again, and then let the rumbling of the engine and the gentle rocking of the bus lull you to sleep. You'd close the curtains to your bunks enough, but never all the way, always leaving a gap so you could see each other.

And sometimes, even the small distance between your bunks was too much distance, and Eddie would reach out a hand from underneath his curtain. You'd grab it and then you'd fall asleep holding hands that dangled in the middle of the walkway.

Everyone else hated it.

"This is worse than when they'd sleep on top of each other in one bunk those first few days,"

"Close your eyes and go to sleep, man. You don't have to look at it,"

Salty comments would come from bunks beneath you, and from behind your curtains, you'd smile sleepy smiles at each other.

Happy.

Eddie was so happy. So sure that this was it now.

Not perfect. Far from perfect actually. There were going to be hard days to struggle through, difficult moments he wouldn't know how to deal with.

But he knew you were going to be there. Was so very sure you'd be there. And he'd be there too.

Eddie was happy.

Had his past with you.

Cherished his present with you.

Felt sure about his future with you.

And that was all he'd ever really need. You.

the end

---

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

[artiststarme]

The Kids Grovel for Steve's Forgiveness

Part 3 of the "The Party Forgets Steve's Birthday" fic! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

There was something off with Steve and Eddie lately but Dustin couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. They’d both been distant for the past few weeks for unknown reasons. Steve hadn’t been answering any of the Party’s phone calls and he’d refused to drive any of them anywhere. The times he did interact with them, Eddie would swoop in and take him elsewhere. He was acting as a blockade of sorts, preventing any member of the Party besides himself from getting close to Steve. The last time any of the kids had spoken to him uninterrupted was weeks ago when Steve refused to let them rent a rated R movie and if anything, the kids should be mad at him, not the other way around.  

Perhaps most concerning about the whole situation was how Eddie was postponing sessions for the campaign. He’d canceled Hellfire club two weeks in a row, an action he once called “blasphemous and unjust”. Everyone was really worried about his change of heart and Dustin was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Everything came to a head at Friday’s session, the first one in weeks that Eddie hadn’t tried to postpone. He was unnecessarily brutal at this session and was doing his darndest to kill everyone like some sort of fantasy nerd serial killer. The session was supposed to continue from where they were recuperating at an inn in a small village and all of the boys were looking forward to some light humor in these confusing times. What no one was expecting was for the evil gorgons and their tamed serpents to attack the town in an effort to kill their group in an act of revenge. 

They were supposed to be having a fun time playing a campaign for DnD but Eddie seemed more malicious, more hostile than usual. Only two hours in and half the Party was dead, the rest low on hit points, right on the verge of death. 

“Okay, what the hell?” Dustin shouted as Gary the Great turned to stone after being caught in a fire and cornered by a gorgon.

“What?” Eddie asked him, his expression a careful mask of neutrality. 

“What’s your problem? We ended the last session safe at an inn, what the hell is this?” The other guys nodded their agreement with his outburst. No one was expecting to get their favorite characters murdered so ruthlessly, at least not so soon in the session. 

“The inn burned down and the town is under attack by merciless gorgons. That’s not my fault,” Eddie told them all. 

“Yes it is, you literally wrote this! This session was supposed to last ten hours. We’re two hours in and most of us are dead! Why are you doing this?” Dustin’s voice was embarrassingly shrill but it got his point across just fine. 

“It’s not my fault your strategy sucks, Henderson! Maybe you should try a little harder to stay alive!” Eddie yelled back.  

Will piped up then, “we should ask Steve for help, he’s good at strategy!”

“You will not! Do not bother Steve,” Eddie pointed at him. 

“Why are you being so neurotic today? And why are you gatekeeping Steve? We want answers!” Dustin yelled again. The other kids voiced their agreement as well. 

They heard a crash in the Munson kitchen and everyone jerked to look at Lucas standing in the doorway. He held up a small Polaroid picture dated from a few weeks ago with a small ‘Happy Birthday, Stevie-poo! I love you’ written in the corner. “What is this?”

Mike scoffed, “who cares about Steve right now? I want to know why Eddie’s been so weird lately.”

His comment must’ve thrown Eddie over the edge because he jumped up from his seat and started screaming at them. “You fuckers forgot his birthday! Steve’s been your friend for at least three years and you’ve never even done as much as tell him happy birthday! So now he’s hurt because he doesn't think you guys care and I think you’re all jackasses that shouldn’t get to be around him anyways! Nice going assholes, you pissed us both off.”

Jeff, Grant, and Gareth looked around the room before standing up from their spots on the couch. Jeff awkwardly clapped his hands and started moving towards the door. “Well guys, there seems to be some friction today so we’re just going to head out for now. We should probably just pick this up next week, that way we have plenty of time to make new characters.”

Eddie nodded at him before sneering at the rest of the Party. “That’s a good idea, Jeff. The rest of you can get the hell out.”

Then he dramatically whirled around and stormed into his room, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Jeff, Grant, and Gareth shook their heads at the kids before leaving, which left Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will to consider the gravity of what they’d done. None of them had ever even thought about Steve’s birthday, it had never come up in conversation and they’d never noticed a lack of celebration. Dustin felt particularly guilty as he picked up the DnD table in the Munson living room. Steve was practically his brother, he of all people should’ve known his birthday. 

Nearly twenty minutes later, they heard the bedroom door down the hallway open and paused in their ministrations. Eddie was either coming out to apologize to them or to yell at them some more and while they were all nervous, they were prepared for either option. They deserved it. But to their utter shock, it wasn’t Eddie that came out. No, instead it was a sleep-rumpled Steve, shirtless, with glasses on and his usually immaculate hair in disarray.

He squinted his eyes at them in confusion before making a double take. “What the- what are you guys still doing here?”

“Steve! What are you doing in Eddie’s room and why are you shirtless?” Lucas asked him. 

“Uh, I was taking a nap.”

“In Eddie’s bed? Why wouldn’t you just sleep at your own house?” Mike sneered at him.

“What’s with the interrogation?! Stop asking questions you don’t want the answers to and let me live!” Steve yelled at them.

So Steve was still mad. But now, Dustin understood why. “Steve, we’re so sorry! We didn’t know it was your birthday so we know why you’re mad and we don’t blame you. But-”

“Dustin, I’m not mad, I’m disappointed,” he said. Oh shit, that was worse! “But it’s fine. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, that’s on me.”

“Steve, we should’ve done something and we’re sorry. You’re one of our best friends and we’ll do better,” Lucas told him. He patted his bare shoulder to emphasize his point. 

Mike nodded at his words but said nothing in further agreement. Dustin felt awful. After everything Steve had done for them, they’d forgotten his birthday. And then he had the nerve to say it was his fault?! What was wrong with this guy?

“Steve, you didn’t deserve that. We’ll make it up to you somehow. We’ll wash your car and bring you lunch when you work, and we’ll never forget another one of your birthdays, we promise.” He promised him earnestly.

Steve pulled him into a hug and messed up his hair despite his squawk of outrage. “I forgive you guys. Really, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years so it’s fine.”

“You will not forgive them!” Eddie stormed down the hallway to pull Dustin out of Steve’s embrace. He wrapped his own arms around his… Steve, and pointed an accusing finger at them. “He’s not just going to drop his hurt feelings to make you assholes feel better. You bitches better grovel if you want Steve and I to forgive you. Now scram, why are you still here?”

~*~*~*~

For the next two weeks, the kids made it their mission to prove to Steve how much he meant to them. Eddie told them to grovel and grovel they did. 

Dustin brought him a homemade lunch from his mom to Family Video every shift he worked. He cleaned his car (technically he just bribed Nancy to drive it through the car wash but still, the thought was there). And he taught him how to play DnD so he could join the next campaign with his own character. 

Lucas went over to the Harrington house to clean the pool every week and mowed the lawn while he was over there. Steve looked shocked when he came home to that but Lucas was reasonably sure he was happy. He also played basketball with him at the park and listened to all of Steve’s mostly helpful tips. 

Mike just eased up on the glaring and brought him a Slurpee once. He also made sure to take his anger out on Nancy instead of Steve as he usually did. 

When they told Robin shortly after their odd interaction at Eddie’s, she was horrified. She immediately ditched Vickie to devote all of her time and best friend-ness to Steve as she should’ve done in the first place. She bought him dinner, stole movies to watch at movie nights with him, and bit her tongue when she saw Eddie kiss him in front of her. She would be the best friend she should’ve been initially and wait for Steve to come to her (which he did a few hours later). 

Needless to say, Steve was freaked out for a good month. People were being too nice to him and it was like he slipped into a parallel universe. Everything looked the same and the rest of the town seemed the same but his friends couldn’t be more different. After multiple panic attacks and burnouts, Eddie told the Party to ease up or deal with the consequences. 

What finally got things back to normal was Hopper organizing and hosting a belated birthday celebration at the Hopper-Byers’ house. All of his friends came together to celebrate him turning 20. Eddie obtained another cake from the bakery and decorated it himself, as per usual. This time, he had more room and was able to write a grotesque “BIRTH STEVE, Another year gone”. The adults of the Party were of course horrified at the dripping red frosting of the lettering and the spattering of rainbow sprinkles but Steve had never felt so touched. 

The Party sang him happy birthday in a myriad of too-flat notes and screeches but it was special nonetheless. Especially when Hopper threw an arm around Steve’s shoulder to tell him that it would happen every year. And from that point forward, it did. 

The End

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[bingebuddie]

Here... We... Go...

Hi all,

Well, so far, 2024 has sucked for me... but anyway...

I've been feeling pretty out of sorts mentally, and depending on where my head is at, I've been bouncing back and forth between Fics and my Wes and Cole novel.

I am going on a writing retreat May 4-12th... so... expect some major movement...

I wanted to provide a few updates on where I am with my Fics and other works.

Sideways:

Published updates here have been slower than I wanted or anticipated. This has nothing to do with the story, as I have this outlined for Arcs 6-10... Yes, up to Arc 10.

My personal life has gotten in the way a lot over the last few months and has just eaten up my time to write.

Now, Arc 6 will lead right into Arc 7 and 7 into 8. You will want to throw some stuff at me for some of the wtf moments and having to wait between arcs... but it's all coming. Anyone new to the series has had the benefit of reading five fully finished-out arcs that took me about a year to write. Have some patience with me. It will be worth it.

Arc 6, Into The Unknown, has multiple chapters drafted. I just need to clean up some edits from my beta, and they will be posted. May is going to be a big month for this arc.

This is a pivotal point in the series. It spans Chapters 37-48, making it the longest arc so far. This installment will delve into the Seals' backstory, their connection with Buck and Eddie, and much more. It’s a substantial piece of the puzzle that you won't want to miss.

This one does have some heavy moments...

This does end with a cliffhanger... But I promise, it's not our boys directly you are left wondering about...

Arc 7—Strong—Eddie will need his friends and family like never before. This is a heavy Diaz family arc. The outline is eight Chapters.

This also ends in a cliffhanger and that promise I made above... does not apply here.... insert evil laugh...

Arc 8 Genesis—This is the big one. It all comes together here, and it is the part I am most excited to write. It is also the longest, with an outline of 16 chapters. You will find out more about Genesis in Arc 6.

This arc will change all of their lives and the status quo as we know it. Grab your seats and tissues. The previous title for this was Unleashed...

Arc 9 - Experience/Circles - Tentative Title - No tease, as it will spoil what's to come...

Arc 10 - My All - googles Mariah Carey ...

Sideways isn't going anywhere...

Shifted:

Volume 1: Nevermore

This was originally planned to be 30 chapters. I have 20 published right now. The rest of this is outlined, and chapters 21-25 are written and ready to be published. I haven't posted these because Chapter 25 ends on a massive cliffhanger, and I don't want to leave you all hanging. I will be finishing this... after Arc 6 of Sideways ...

I have a plan for the second arc... but that's all the way behind everything else on my docket...

Impossible:

If you have read this one, I have yet to post the last chapter...

This has an MCD, and while I was writing this, I lost a friend. It was hard to finish. I have finished the outline, and this will be completed soon.

Run:

This is on hold. I have too much else to focus on. Consider this on hiatus until I say otherwise. It might even be scrapped... will see...

Would You Mind:

This one was a lot of fun... The wrap-up/epilogue is done; it's with my beta...

Lap Dancing Eddie will return... in Sideways...

I Don't Want To Be Your Freind:

As of today, 7 of 11 chapters are posted. This is all outlined. I have drafts of chapters 8-11 done. Going to beta and will be posting soon...

I started this leading up to Season 7; it was my mind dealing with all the rumors and leaks... In my mind and my group chat, I was calling this my Anti Tommy and Marisol fic...

This got way out of hand and became a monster of a fic...

Now... on to what else I have brewing...

Future Shock - 3 Part Series - Magic/BAMF/Mayhem/Found Family/Soul Mates/Redux/Ryan Throw's The Timeline Into A Blender and Tada...

As It Is - 2030 and the 118 have been a fractured team since the lawsuit. When members of the team start to be picked off one by one, Hen, Chim, and Bobby, have no one to turn to until friends and family return in their most desperate hour.

As It Was - Details what led to the fracturing of the 118. A retelling of Season 2 and part of season 3...

As It Was Always Meant To Be - Now reunited, will the 118 be able to rally around each other, or will their painful past be too much to overcome.

This has a loose outline and it's very large ...

Depressed, Devasted, and Destroyed aka Something To Hold On To:

I keep calling this Triple D or DDD... This is a pure angst fest... major whump... like I'm mad at myself for the whump here ... seriously...

This has an outline...

Relationship Goals—In an effort to rebuild their friendship after their recent relationships crash and burn, Buck and Eddie join a local hockey team along with some of Buck's old seal friends. This was pure fan service to myself and a way to get Buck, Eddie, Wes, and Cole to play hockey and not have to do it on Sideways. This currently sits around 60 pages.

Stolen - A stolen kiss changes everything between Buck and Eddie... This angst fest is somehow incredibly soft... This is about 35 pages right now...

The Ties That Bind - Buck breakdown fic... This might get scrapped and merged into DDD from above...

All I Want for Christmas - Think Scrooged Vs. It's A Wonderful Life Vs 911... This won't be posted until holiday time...

The Wes and Cole novel is still moving along... it's my refuge when the show does something stupid...

I should probably get to writing... it's not like I have nothing to do....

[mugloversonly]

Bedtime Story

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: FAIRY-TALE @steddiemas prompt: FIRST set in the same universe as The Revenant of You WC: 999 Rating: G CW: vomit mention Summary: Dustin’s wedding led to Abigail and Lilith becoming the best of friends. Tonight is their first sleepover. AO3

After Dustin’s wedding, Steve and Eddie started a tentative friendship, mostly through play dates for their girls. The two became the best of friends after that night, forcing Steve and Eddie to be in each other’s orbit a lot more.

Tonight was their first sleepover, but Lilith was still little. She was afraid to sleep without her dad there, so Eddie was spending the night too. In Steve’s guest room. He could do this, it was next to Abby’s room, so Lily could find him. And find him she did, when her little fist knocked on his door.

“Daddy, can we have a bedtime story?” She asked. He glanced up to see Abby and Steve with her.

“She said your stories are better than Dad’s.” Abby added. Steve shrugged behind her in agreement.

“Okay, my little demon. Let’s get you two to bed and I’ll tell a story.” He walked with Steve to Abby’s room, tucked the girls in, and reached for a book.

“NO! Tell her the bard story.” Lilith exclaimed. Eddie sighed and glanced at Steve. He pulled up a chair and motioned for him to continue.

“Okay, Once upon a time…

there was a lonely bard. He traveled the kingdom, singing his woes, hoping the people would tip him enough to buy a place to lay his head.

On one such night, he had one gold piece, enough for one night. But as he walked into the tavern, he saw a lone woman, sitting hidden in the corner. The bard sat beside her and asked her what she was doing here.

“Hoping to sleep here for the night. But I’m low on coins.” She admitted. The bard looked at the beautiful woman and slid her his last gold piece.

“It would be a shame for a lovely thing like you to sleep in the mud.” He stood but she grabbed his wrist.

“You shouldn’t sleep in the mud either. Let’s share the room.” She whispered. The bard stared at the lady, looking for some sort of deception but finding none. With a nod, they paid the barkeep and went to bed.

He lay next to the woman and knew, he’d write a dozen songs about her eyes alone.

In the morning, the lady awoke and asked the bard to escort her home, she promised to pay him back the gold coin.

“No repayment necessary, my lady. But I will walk with you.” As the bard and the woman made their way to her home, he found she was funny. Smart, pretty. He did not want to leave her once he arrived...at the Queen’s castle. The bard’s eyes widened and he bowed deeply, apologies leaving his mouth at a rapid pace.

“No apologies. Be my family’s bard.” She ordered. He would be an idiot to argue. He followed her inside, as she held his hand. The Queen was lonely, but with the lonely bard filling her hall with music, she was alone no longer, the bard a constant presence at her side.

The end.” Eddie whispered as the girls’ eyes slipped shut. The two adults quietly exited the room and Eddie moved to head to the guest room when Steve stopped him.

“Come have a beer?” He asked. Eddie smiled and nodded, following him to the kitchen. He handed him a bottle and used his own to gesture into the living room. Steve plucked at the label before he spoke. “Good story.” He said.

“Thanks.” Eddie replied awkwardly. This was the hard part of their friendship. Not knowing what to say, when to say it, or what to share. Eddie was trying, but he was exhausted relearning how to read Steve.

“What’s it about?” He knew...Eddie knew he knew, but if he wanted him to say it.

“It’s the fairy tale version of how I met Lyla. In real life, she was drunk off her ass and accidentally stumbled into a hotel I was staying at. She didn’t have enough for a room so I offered to let her stay in mine. After that I walked her home, met her roommate, got her number. I never called her. Then I saw her at another show and, well you know.” Eddie rushed out. He gulped his beer and stared straight ahead.

“That’s a rom-com meet cute if I’ve ever heard one.” Steve laughed and Eddie joined in.

“It’s more of a meet-ugly. She puked on my shoes.” Eddie smiled when Steve snorted so hard beer shot out his nose.

“That was my last sip, fucker!” He laughed. Then he sobered a bit. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” Steve asked. But for once, there was no tiny vein of bitterness or jealousy. Just genuine curiosity.

“Yeah, I did.” It was getting easier to admit to Steve. The pain of losing Lyla would never go away, but the burden of carrying it got lighter and lighter the more he shared her memory.

“Thanks for staying the night. Abby has been asking for months.” Steve said, changing the subject.

“So has Lily. Thanks for letting me crash here. She still wakes up scared, looks for her mom before she remembers. She usually climbs in the bed and sits on my chest to make sure I’m still breathing.” Eddie paused. That was the hardest part for him. His own grief he could handle, but Lily holds so much in her too. “If you see her doing it, just let it happen. It’s better for both of us.”

“Whatever she needs. Whatever either of you need.” Steve promised as he placed his hand on top of Eddie’s. Eddie watched Steve for a moment, with a soft smile.

“You’re a great friend, Steve.” Eddie watched the happiness fade just a little from his eyes. “I should, go to bed.” Eddie whispered and pulled his hand away.

“I love you.” Steve whispered, so quietly like he hoped Eddie didn’t hear it. He pretended not to. He wasn’t ready yet; but, he was getting closer.

tags

@katyawriteswhump

buy me a coffee

[dreamlandforever]

So… I have never written a Stranger Things fanfic, or even a fanfic (beyond a very vague prompt) in over seven years. But, I haven’t been able to get this idea out of my head.

Edit: I have started writing a fanfic on this premise! Part 1

Eddie, who his whole life has thought himself a coward. Who only knows to run, to hide, to lie his way out of every situation. The Munson name is not something you live up to, is something you live in spite of. Back from the dead, recovering from literal hell.

An Eddie who doesn’t know how to explain to Hellfire how or why he became friends with no other than Steve Harrington.

Eddie who hasn’t realized that what he has been doing so far wasn’t running away, it was surviving. Hide the drugs. Hide the weirdness. Hide his sexuality. Hide himself. So when one day, Garrett asks him why the hell are they holding Hellfire for the second time in a month in the Harrington residence, he doesn't think for a second before lying through his teeth.

"Look, man, I know Harrington is an asshole, but I am taking one for the team here. Do we or do we not have a big enough space for campaigns now? And the King even comes with amenities!" All sarcastic, holding the juice box Steve had laid out with the rest of the snacks.

And he meant it as he did most things, a way to hide who Eddie Munson is and protect himself. Except he knew he had fucked up big time the moment Dustin looked furious, but he wasn't looking at him; he was looking behind him. And there was only one force strong enough in this side of the world that could keep Dustin Henderson quiet.

And sure enough, as soon as Eddie turned around he could see Steve Harrington standing behind him, a tray full of nachos in his hands. He looked as calm and collected as ever, even a smile on his face. But Eddie knew that look and that face. It was his Family Video pose. It was his retail worker face. He had never looked at him like that before.

And Steve Harrington, who had learned to trust in the last three years those who he never thought he would. The Steve Harrington who had become the forever babysitter, and now felt more comfortable with a bat full of nails than with a basketball. A Steve Harrington, former swim captain, who now only got in the water if it meant saving someone else. A Steve Harrington who had worked so hard to leave The King behind and become Steve.

The same one who, once he find out Eddie Munson was one of them now, had received him like one of their own. A brother in arms, of sort. A friend, for sure.

Just smiled his customer smile, set the nachos down and said, “That comes free of charge, Munson. No need to pretend to be friends. Please lock the door on your way out.” And just turned to leave.

Steve had never joined a single session of Hellfire, but had started sitting in and listening to the stories, at the children’s insistence. Now, he turned around and left.

Both Dustin and Eddie made to stand up and go after him, but Mike’s voice stopped them. “Let him leave, he doesn’t like the game either way. Let’s just finish this”. And to Eddie’s surprise, the boy’s voice is full of venom directed solely at him.

Dustin turns to Mike and after a short silent conversation just sits back down, not turning back to Eddie.

Steve doesn’t come back. Eddie and the other teens are thrown out almost as soon as the game is over, only the Party staying behind.

….

I am not really sure what comes next. But my guess is Steve plays his part, a gracious Host who is doing Okay. No, he’s not hurt and the kids can stop worrying. And Eddie believes him. Wants to ask for forgiveness still, explain the situation. But Steve was the King of Hawkins, and not for nothing. He will play his part to perfection, while giving Eddie 0 chance to talk to him alone. They are Not Friends, and he needs to come to terms with that (Steve or Eddie or both). So yeah. Maybe I writes maybe I don’t. If someone knows of a ff similar please let me know.

If you read this far thank you. Also, I am sorry.

[magicalhideoutengineer]

Newt & Theseus

Crimes of Grindelwald:

Callum Turner: I play Theseus, who is Newt's older brother, even though I'm younger than Eddie, which is interesting! He's kind of the opposite of Newt. He's gone through the same schooling obviously, but once he got out he decided that the establishment was the way to fight the good fight. Theseus is or may be quite more rigid or just part of the establishment. You know, he's the head Auror at the Ministry.

Yeah, I mean, he's the opposite to Newt. I guess he's more rigid, and he's conformed to the way that people want you to … he's become one of them I guess, and he went to Hogwarts. He was taught by Dumbledore. He’s from that school, and he became this, which you can take...

- Collider

What are Theseus’s thoughts about the creatures? What are his relationships with them?

Callum Turner: Yeah, I think he has bigger fish to fry and it’s his little brother’s thing. That’s his sort of looking down on his brother.

- Collider

Callum Turner: He'd been educated at Hogwarts underneath Dumbledore the same way Newt had, but for some reason he'd separated and it always felt unnatural that Theseus had become part of the establishment when his natural instinct would probably not to be that, but like Newt, you know, they are brothers. There's a similarity. But he's somehow like closed that bit off and he's gone that way and he's gone really high up into the Ministry of Magic and pretty much runs it and that's how he decides to fight the good fight. As Newt is part of the rebellion so I look at it, and Theseus is part of the establishment, and that's the kind of main difference between two brothers. Apart from that, very similar.

- ChicagoSciFi

Eddie Redmayne: I'll never forget. I don't know if you ever saw it. I saw an early version of the script in which the young guys were...

Callum Turner: The flashback.

Eddie Redmayne: Yeah, flashback when they were at Hogwarts together. He [Theseus] came like flying past the window on a Quidditch team, on his broomstick. He was clearly like a schoolboy sporting hero.

Callum Turner: Like a jock.

Eddie Redmayne: Definitely. The antithesis of Newt.

- Movie'n'co UK

Eddie Redmayne: Thank you. He's kind of the opposite of Newt. He is like the schoolboy hero. He was great. I'm sure he's like a brilliant Quidditch player, so they have a bit of tension and animosity, and yet they also have great love for each other, and that's kind of what you see through the film, is they start kind of not on the same side, but they progress through, and that thing that family does, like however much your brother irritates you, there's still some－I have three brothers who I love dearly. They never irritate me－They feel great sort of affection for.

- Dingo Movie

Eddie Redmayne: But also she [ J.K. Rowling] watches and she even says the way Callum’s character, Theseus, was written in the script was quite like, he was quite a bit mean to Newt, but the way Callum played him made him so human in trying to do the right thing and ‘I’ve got my own struggles’ and when Jo saw that and said to me that … when she then sees that footage she then responds to that in how she writes the characters going forward so it is kind of a lovely dance in some way.

- Knockturnal

Eddie Redmayne: It is really complicated. [Theseus] is an Auror, he’s very establishment, and Newt is kind of the antithesis of that. But what I loved, actually, was the way Jo had written their relationship. It was quite antagonistic to begin with, and it certainly is filled with complexities. I mean, his brother is engaged to this girl who he had a huge affection for growing up, so there’s obviously a real tension there. But one of the things I loved is, actually, Jo said to me seeing what Callum [Turner] was doing and how David was directing – there was a lot of love there – that she progressed the relationship as a consequence of that.

- Buzzfeed

Callum Turner: Theseus is the polar opposite of Newt. In a sense they're both fighting the good fight, but Newt is part of the rebellion movement and Theseus is the establishment.  

- MTV News

Callum Turner: The focus was very much about the brother relationship. I don't have a younger brother. I have a younger half-brother, but we didn't grow up with each other and I got these stories and it's very much the older brother shouts at the younger brother a lot and so bullies him in a certain way because there's a responsibility. It's all about two people just playing at the same patterns they had for years.

- Evanna Lynch Interview

Callum Turner: Theseus is head Auror at the British Ministry Of Magic - it's a tongue-twister! - and is really straight-laced. And Newt's not. He's the complete opposite, and he actually wants him to get in line and try to save the world. Because he knows he's special, but he won't do that. And that's the tension. That's what's going on between the two brothers. A brother trying to boss his other brother around, basically!

- Total Film

Callum Turner: He's an establishment man. He's worked really hard and rose to the top incredibly quickly. His brother won't conform. Newt sort of sits on the fence, and Theseus is a man of action.

- Entertainment Weekly: The Ultimate Guide to Fantastic Beasts

Callum Turner: He [Theseus] decided to fight the good fight by joining the Ministry, whereas Newt is part of the rebellion. They're both on the same side, but fighting in very different ways. Other than that key detail, the brothers clearly care for one another. While Theseus may be a bit more self-assured and confident than Newt, they share a deep sense of humanity.

- The Archive of Magic: The Film Wizardry of Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

Callum Turner: What was important was not to focus on that friction but to try and understand maybe why. You look at the facts: [Theseus] is very successful through the establishment, and wants Newt to join and fight the good fight in the way that he knows how and the way that he thinks best. Newt doesn’t want to do that.

- Fandom Interview

Callum Turner: He is on the promise to fight the good fight in the ways he knows how, which means that he has to conform to the rules and the regulations of which the wizarding society is deemed acceptable within the establishment. He doesn't think that Newt's doing the right thing. Spiritually, I think probably Newt is the one that has figured it out. Yeah. He's doing what he wants. 

- HBO Asia

Callum Turner: He’s risen to the top of the ranks at the Ministry, he’s the Head Auror, and is fighting the good fight in the way he knows how. He’s incredibly stubborn and wants his brother, who he understands to be a more powerful, special wizard, to join the fight on his side, through the establishment, which obviously Newt is repelled by and I think that's the journey he goes on. Maybe he's making mistakes or had made mistakes.

- Futurepreviewsllc

Turner wracked his brain trying to figure out why Theseus would be so desperate to get everyone close to him to join the Ministry, and found a simple answer: Protection. “[Theseus] wants to protect his brother, he wants him alongside him, he wants to [know] that his brother will be OK.”

- Fandom Interview

Callum Turner: I think Theseus and Newt are complete opposites. He's worried about his brother and he wants his brother to basically do what he wants and to fight the good fight in the way that he know how, which is through the establishment. He does it through love. It's like an overbearing thing and that's obviously the worst thing possible for Newt.

- Crimes of Grindelwald UK Premiere

What does your character think of Newt’s newfound success? Does he resent him at all for it?

Callum Turner: I think there’s a sort of a relief. Theseus is really successful. He’s a very determined man to reach the top, and I think having his younger brother sort of float around in this obscurity, in a sense, was quite worrying for him.

- Collider

Callum Turner: And with Newt, the thing that drives Theseus actually is love. It’s very important to him, the brotherly thing. It’s not that he’s the older brother and, ‘You’re going to do what I say.’ There is that element to it, too, but I think the friction really is in Theseus suffocating Newt. Theseus is overprotective of Newt and doesn’t allow him space. But really that comes out of love.

- No More Work Horse

Callum Turner: As brothers separate at times, this is the moment that they have. We refind them. He's risen to the top of the Ministry of Magic and he's quite successful, quite stubborn, but this is a man that loves and this is a man that cares deeply about humanity in the wizarding world and his fiancee and also his brother, and I think that's where the stress comes between the two is that he wants to protect Newt and he wants to look after Newt, but Newt doesn't need it, but Theseus can't see that. And that's the dynamic. That's why older brother telling younger brother what to do, younger brother saying, "See you later."

- Sensacine

Callum Turner: I didn't grow up with a younger brother -- I have a half-brother but we didn't grow up with each other -- and my research was to understand what that's like, and to get into why Newt doesn't like him and why they don't connect. The communication has gone bad. Theseus is very head-in-the-sand in a sense. He's blind to what Newt needs, and, objectively, there's a selfishness to that and an arrogance to that and a brute force-ness to that. But subjectively, it's about protection and it's about love and it's about caring. Theseus is a carer. He's described as a hugger, and I think he's trying to hug the whole world. Newt, in particular. When you aren't able to give what someone needs, to facilitate what they need, you then either push them away -- which he does -- or suffocate. I think the friction between them is Theseus doesn't understand what Newt wants, and he is overbearing. It's almost like he's got him in a big, old bear hug and Newt doesn't want that at all.

- Etonline

The actor [Callum Turner] also found that it was easy to find similarities between the two characters, both from a character standpoint (they’re both “stubborn in their ideologies”)

- Fandom Interview

Callum Turner: I had obviously seen the first film, and then I looked at Newt and thought I’d do the complete opposite – because Theseus is the complete opposite.  Even though they’re very similar – and the similarities are through their stubbornness, and being successful, driven and powerful – it wouldn’t make sense if they were the same. There were little things, like having ankle swingers, I call them, in the costume; that was a nod to being brothers. But then, the writing’s so brilliant and layered and textured that it was awfully free, really.

No More Work Horse

Callum Turner: We tried to find loads of little touches that would draw the brothers together, like little details in the pocket square, or the tie pin, or having the trousers a little shorter at the bottom, that would link the two together. There’s a panache to Newt, and to Theseus, too — but it’s subtle. He’s engaged to Zoë Kravitz, so he’s got to have some style.

- Fandom Interview

Eight years Newt's senior ( although Turner is nine years younger than Eddie Redmaync), Theseus is less eccentric to the eye. 'Generally, he is part of the world, dressed in a fine suit,' says Turner. 'But there are tiny similarities between his and Newt's look: ankle swingers, a pocket square, these wizard-ish touches in the shapes of the lapel and the collar.'

- Lights, Camera, Magic!: The Making of Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

Hair and makeup designer Fae Hammond didn't have to do much with Callum Turner's hair in order to make it look like he and Eddie Redmayne were brothers, just lighten it. Her challenge, however, was that Callum has no freckles. and Eddie has a well-known smattering across his face. 'So one of my team ... Carefully freckled him up,' says Fae. 'But its a work of art and really necessary,' she confirms. Freckling took about fifty minutes each day.

- Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald: Movie Magic

Rebuffed, she comes to a halt. NEWT walks away toward THESEUS, who is very like NEWT, but more outgoing, easier in manner. THESEUS winks at LETA before turning to NEWT.

- Secrets of Dumbledore: The Original Screenplay

Callum Turner: He’s my younger brother. They love each other. It’s a lot of fun playing an older brother as well, someone who’s very sturdy, a war hero and we’re doing a scene today and Eddie gets slapped by Grindelwald with a spell and I was like my instinct in this kept saying, “Get up." You know. "Get up.” Not like, "Are you OK?” “Get up.” Like looking after him. I have a half-brother and a half-sister, but they grow up in Australia, so I didn’t grow up with them. So I didn’t know what it was really like being an older brother, feeding into that “get up” thing. Normally I’d be like, “Are you OK?” I actually did a lot of research for that. That was an important thing for me, to find the essence of being an older brother, and someone... I mean Newt is a worry for Theseus.

- Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald - Makers, Mysteries and Magic: Chapter 7

Callum Turner: And with Newt, it was very important not to play the hardened brother because that's not what he is. And I think the relationship between Newt and Theseus is that Newt is running away. Theseus is worried about Newt. He thinks he's slightly odd, he's not part of the same society or the system that he's in, and Theseus is actually trying to drag him into line, into what Theseus thinks Newt should be. And I think that's the mistake. But actually, it's born out of love. It's not born out of authority or anything. He's worried and he realizes the world around them is crumbling. He says it to him at the beginning of the film. "You have to pick a side. You have to make a choice." And that's the theme of the film, for me. And actually, what he's doing is suffocating him. He's not allowing him to breathe, instead of that "Easy, easy." I'm sure Newt, then, would be like, "Hey, Theseus, what's going on?" But he's not. He's like, "Do this. Do that. Because I know best." And that's the similarity between the two. They're so stubborn. Theseus says, "Do this," and Newt just goes, "No," straight away. He doesn't even think about... and that's the beauty; by the end of the film they're in line and they take force of the situation that they're in. But their ideologies combine, in a sense.

- Mugglenet

David Heyman: Family is a big part of it, and, you know, it's both the family you're born with and the family you make. That's a big part of, I think, of the themes of Jo's work. So family is a part of it, including the relationship between Newt and Theseus. Seeing Eddie and Callum next to each other, they really do feel like brothers, and you know, Theseus is a Ministry man, but Newt is still his brother, and that relationship is really beautiful and strong. So to answer your question, yes, family is very much a part of it, where you come from, who you are.

- Collider

David Heyman:  Callum brings such an authority and an authenticity to the part. I mean, you really believe that he’s Eddie’s brother and, as he so rightly said, they are opposites and yet are very clearly brothers. And what he did so brilliantly in his audition – and it’s in Jo’s [J.K. Rowling’s] writing, as well – was that you had a sense that these two people have a history. So, there is both an affection, but also a little bit of that brotherly or fraternal thing, which I think really comes across. And, you know, Theseus is a Ministry man. Newt is not a Ministry man. That brotherly love, I think, is one of the heartbeats of the film.

- No More Work Horse

THESEUS: This isn't going to be like the other times. This is . . . Just try and keep an open mind, will you? And maybe a little less— A wordless gesture indicates Pickett, NEWT'S blue coat, and his messy hair.

NEWT —like me?

THESEUS (not without affection): Well, it can't hurt. Come on, let's go.

- Crimes of Grindelwald: The Original Screenplay

David Heyman: But what I love about brothers in this film is that ultimately, brotherhood is more important than anything and that the two of them begin on opposite sides of it. Theseus is a Ministry man and Newt is anti-establishment. And yet, even while that is going on, Theseus whispers in his ear, "They're following you," which is a betrayal of the Ministry, but it is his brother and he's trying to get his brother to go to him. He's trying to help him, I think, not because he wants him to be on the Ministry's side. He knows what's true for Newt. And he wants to help. So the way these people both move, Newt comes through realizing he's going to have to join the battle, and Theseus realizes he might have to do it outside of the traditional Ministry platform. They're doing it as brothers, stronger together.

- Mugglenet

Callum Turner: I hope they are friends. I hope they they are best buds. I think they deserve to be friends, right? There’s been a lot of bad press in the press about their relationship. I’m sick of it. 

Eddie Redmayne: I feel like by the end, they really bond in this film. It’s an amazing thing in family, isn’ it? Where you have difficult times and dynamics, moments when there’s friction and then something happens and you kind of lean into each other a bit. I’m excited for the prospect of the Scamander brothers taking on the world together.

- IGN España

NEWT shuffles over awkwardly to the bereft THESEUS. NEWT hesitates, struggling to find words of comfort. Then, for the first time in his life, he puts his arms around his brother. They hug.

- Crimes of Grindelwald: The Original Screenplay

Secrets of Dumbledore:

Eddie Redmayne: One of the key themes is siblings really. It's there with my brother Theseus played by Callum Turner who I adore, and the complexity of those relationships in families when you're all of the same blood, but you've got completely different personality traits, and you have great love even though you are entirely different people.

- ChicagoSciFi

Eddie Redmayne: Newt is not a social animal. He is much more at ease with his creatures. He' s not inherently someone that' s good at being part of the system and he didn' t really fit in at school. In fact, he ended up being thrown out! Whereas Theseus is very much the schoolboy hero who' s gone into a life within the Ministry, was a war hero himself and has a physical authority and a facility with people that Newt just doesn' t have. So they' re sort of chalk and cheese and yet because in this movie they have to work together they begin to realise that actually they complement each other quite well.

- Secrets of Dumbledore: The Original Screenplay

Callum Turner: Between the brothers, they're re-entering a stage in their relationship that they haven't been there for a long time probably since they were kids, both of them trying to be more open with the other, I'd say that Theseus maybe a little bit more than Newt, and they're developing an understanding, a respect for the way that the other person thinks and using that for the greater good.

- ChicagoSciFi

Callum Turner: Well, I think what's so brilliant about the way that Steve and J.K. wrote this relationship is that it's complex. It's like two brothers that have a fractured relationship of growing apart, unfortunately, for every reason, and I think the reason is that they both think they are right. With this one, they align themselves. They both allow themselves to be slightly more flexible and see the way the other fuses the world a little bit more, and that allows them to come together to fight the good fight together.

- Secrets of Dumbledore Interview