#nancy's writing

[nancy-reads]

am I the one you think about?

part 2!!

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: having your heart broken before love really blossomed hurts more than it should. but fred's flirty banter never quits. maybe your love story isn't quite over?

warnings: slightly angsty but with a happy ending

authors note: i am so sorry for how long this took! school got crazy and college applications are a nightmare. however, i hope you all had a good holiday season and enjoy this late christmas gift!

part one

CROSS-POSTED TO AO3

You refused to cry as you stomped back to your shop. Fred could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything. He just flirted with you like crazy and you developed a massive crush on him. 

And of course, the girl Fred was kissing was gorgeous. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. Clear, gorgeous dark skin and eyes, black hair in a braided ponytail that looked effortless, and a tall figure that looked like she was meant to be a model for Quidditch robes. 

You didn’t know how you even thought you could pull someone like him. Fred was gorgeous and strong and funny, and you were just…well, you. Not anything special. 

You swore as you stepped into a massive puddle near your shop. Tears were beginning to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. You would not cry over a man you knew not even twenty-four hours. 

And it would be better if it didn’t work out, you thought. You were going to be very busy with your shop once it opened, and you wouldn’t have time for any sort of relationship. It would be an absolute logistical nightmare, and you had to focus on your business. 

You nodded to yourself as you stepped inside your shop, decorated with candles, fairy lights, and plants. This was where you belonged. This was the important thing, not some stupid boy you met once. 

*

MAGICAL HERBS AND HEALING GRAND OPENING!!!

You smiled to yourself as you lowered your wand and took in the exterior of your shop. Everything looked perfect. The plants were in place, the widow displays were shining, and best of all, the banner hung front and center, inviting anyone and everyone to come in. 

People were beginning to trickle into Diagon Alley for some early morning shopping, so you rushed inside your shop and flicked the sign from open to closed. You bounced on your heels as you did some final checks to make sure that everything was in place.

You had already checked about seven times, but there wasn’t any harm in one more, was there? 

Soon enough, you didn’t have time to check anything, too busy ringing up the barrage of customers who entered your store. The line was spread throughout the shop, and you couldn’t stop smiling as your products and potions flew off the shelves. 

Your dreams were coming true. Everything was running smoothly, the customers were marveling at the aesthetics of your shop, and you’d gotten many promises to come back.

But the day couldn’t stay perfect forever, and your eyes widened as a familiar face entered the shop. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s handsome face and body, but you cursed yourself. You would not be thirsting for a taken man.

Attempting to look as busy as possible, you straightened the boxes behind you and fussed with the register. You could feel his stare on your back, and it took every ounce of your will not to turn.

He is a taken man. He has a girlfriend. 

And he is still staring at you.

After a generous amount of time, Fred cleared his throat. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment, and finally began to turn around. As slowly as humanly possible. 

“That excited to see me, huh?”

You ignored him.

“And what are you looking for today sir?”

His eyes widened. “Sir? You haven’t forgotten my name already, have you?”

Taken man. Taken man. Taken man.

This was going to be an exercise in self-control.

“Just-” you paused. “Come on, Fred-”

“I knew you remembered-”

“This isn’t a great time-”

“Well then tell me when is,” Fred said. “I’d be glad to arrange a date.”

Why did he have to say these things?

“Are you really going to make me do this now?” you asked, anger coloring your tone. “It's opening day, and I’d really rather you not ruin it.”

“Ruin it?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“You know what? Fine,” you snapped. “Come here after closing. We can talk then. I have customers to help, and I’m sure you do too.”

Fred’s eyebrows were scrunched together, and his mouth pulled into a frown. “I-” he paused when he looked at your face, and a defeated expression appeared on his face. “Okay.”

You stared at him as he left, and a part of you wondered if you’d hallucinated the whole thing. He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted to talk to you. Like you were important, not some other girl he wanted to have on the side. 

But you couldn’t think like that. He probably had some other ulterior motive.

You turned to the next customer in line. “Hi, how can I help you today?”

*

You had to give him credit, Fred was at your shop door at six pm sharp. You tried to ignore him for a while, but he eventually caught your eye as you wiped down the counters.

He gave you a big smile as you opened the door, and part of you wanted to melt. His smile was so bright and full of ardent hope. His freckles made him look younger, and it really added to the sweetness of his face. 

“So,” Fred began after a moment. “Why didn’t you come see the shop? It’s been weeks.”

You sighed. “Look, Fred. I just don’t think us talking like this is appropriate.”

He scrunched his brows. “Appropriate? Why not?” his eyes widened. “I haven’t been impolite, have I? I swear I’ve never meant to say anything weird, I just like to have a laugh-”

“No! Nothing like that,” you said. “I’m not interested in the kind of relationship you want.” There you said it. You would not be someone’s side piece or a good fuck. You wanted something real.

You should have known he was too good to be true as soon as you hit him with those boxes. 

“Oh,” Fred said, his face falling. “I’m so sorry that I assumed-” he paused, “I mean, yeah, sorry, you’re really busy so…yeah.” He forced a smile and stepped back. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”

You ignored the disappointment in your chest as the bells rang, signifying Fred had left the shop.

*

The shop was still packed a few days later. You supposed word had spread about your low prices and fast wait times because potions were flying off the shelves. You’d begun to think about hiring someone else to help check people out while you brewed in the back. 

Plus, people seemed to like the idea of a small A&E in the back, and you’d definitely need more help with that. 

You’d just finished restocking some salves when he walked in. His brown eyes sparkled when they met yours, and that easy, earnest smile was back on his face. There was no hesitation or the anxiety you’d seen the other day. He was acting like nothing had happened. 

You hesitatingly smiled when he reached the counter, but your jaw dropped when you noticed the bruise that had formed around his eye. 

“Holy shit, Fred!” without thinking, you reached to touch his black eye. “What happened?”

He scoffed. “This is nothing. We just had a slight malfunction with one of our new products.”

“This doesn’t look very slight.”

“I’m fine. But,” he smirked. “I do appreciate your concern.”

“It’s professional concern,” you muttered as you searched for the anti-bruise cream behind the counter. “You’re not special.”

Fred’s jaw dropped dramatically. “You hurt me, dear lady.”

You snorted. “I think you can take it.”

Fred’s hand brushed yours as you handed him the cream and the anti-swelling potion. Your cheeks flushed, and he gave you a sweet smile as he left the shop. 

You could feel yourself smiling throughout the rest of the day, and you cursed yourself every time.

 He isn’t actually interested. He’s just a flirt. 

*

The next time Fred came in was a week later, and this time he had a cut branching up his arm. Thankfully, it was nearly closing time and most of your customers had trickled out by then. 

“What is this?” you fretted, grabbing his arm. “You hurt yourself again?”

“It was just a small incident with one of the pygmy puffs,” he chuckled. “They don’t like being told what to do.”

“Probably because they’re your orders,” you joked. “They can probably sense the stupidity from a mile away.”

“Hey!” he mock-yelled. “They don’t listen to George either.”

“My point still stands,” you said, tapping the cut with your wand. You held back a shiver as your thumb brushed his strong bicep. Was it just you, or did he have goosebumps?

“You don’t even know George.”

“He’s your brother, so if he’s anything like you, I’d be worried about his intelligence.”

Fred pouted. “They don’t listen to Angelina either, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think they just don’t listen to anyone.”

You paused your cleaning of his cut for a moment and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. “Who’s Angelina?” Could she be the girl he was kissing?

“Oh she’s George’s girlfriend,” he said, oblivious. You breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I don’t know how they’re still together, honestly she could do so much better, but she likes him, I suppose.”

You hummed, finally letting go of his arm to grab a potion. The cut was just barely a scratch now, but you wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“Make sure you drink this, Fred, tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll wash out any weird pygmy puff or whatever you call it infection from your body.”

“Yes ma’am!” he saluted and headed for the door. You couldn’t help but watch him make his way back from his shop, a spring in his step and a smile on his gorgeous face.

*

It kept happening. Fred came in with food poisoning, many more bruises, and even boils at one point. They were apparently from his inventions and experiments, but you were starting to get worried. Who gets injured this much?

The last straw was when he walked in with an injured leg. Your A&E hadn’t been opened yet, but you had hired a retired healer to run the counter so you could run in and out on occasion.

You were in the back, mixing a new potion when there was a loud commotion at the entrance. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was but continued to stir the liquid until Martha poked her head into your office. 

“It’s your boy,” she said. “And I think you’ll want to see this.”

That got you out of your seat immediately. Most of the time Fred’s injuries honestly seemed more like excuses to come see you, for what reason you didn’t know, but Martha’s tone made it seem much more serious.

“What’s wro-” fear shot through you as you saw the pain on Fred’s face, and the fact that he was leaning on….a direct copy of himself?

You weren’t sure whether to be more worried or confused. Had Fred somehow invented a cloning machine? 

As you looked closer, you realized that they weren’t completely alike. The person next to Fred’s face was more rounded, and his nose was slightly bigger. His face was a bit uneven, and there was something off with his ear, but you couldn’t tell from far away. 

Suddenly, it all clicked. 

“You must be George!” you exclaimed. “Fred, you never told me that you had an identical twin!”

“Pleased to finally meet you,” George said, turning to Fred. “I can’t believe you never mentioned we were twins!” He glanced at you, mischief in his eyes. “It’s like you don’t care about me or something.”

“Shut up, George,” Fred said, turning your attention back to him. “I’m sorry to bother you again, darling-” your heart jumped, “-but I’m in quite a bit of pain and I was wondering if you could fix me up again?”

He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. 

“Yes, of course,” you scooped Fred’s other arm over your neck and helped George carry him into the patient room. “Martha! Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”

You didn’t wait to hear her affirmative before slowly and carefully lowering Fred down onto the patient bed. His face was contorted in pain, and you couldn’t help yourself from squeezing his shoulder in support once he was safely in bed. 

“Drink this,” you said as you passed him a cup full of silver liquid. “It’ll make the pain go away for a bit.” Fred gulped it down, and a goofy smile filled his face when he finished. 

“You’re so pretty,” he said lazily.

You could feel heat creeping up your face, but you ignored him.

“Sleep well.”

You cleared your throat and turned to George. 

“Judging from the dirt and the Quidditch robes, I assume he fell off his broom?”

George nodded. “Yeah. He got distracted and a Bludger came flying toward him and…” he made a violent gesture, “Crash!”

You nodded. “Did he fall unconscious at any point, or hit his head?”

“He was a bit confused at first,” George said, hesitating. “He kept asking to come here though. My girlfriend kept trying to convince him to go to St. Mungos, but he wasn’t having it.” George smiled. “Are you two together? Because he kept asking specifically for you.”

Call the fire department, because your face was scorching. “I-” you stammered. “I thought he had a girlfriend or something?”

George snorted. “Fred? A girlfriend? He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. I was honestly starting to wonder if he was gay and just afraid to tell me or something.”

“Really?” Your mind was spinning. Had you actually just hallucinated seeing Fred kiss someone outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? “I thought saw him kiss a girl outside your shop a few months ago.” You sighed for a moment. “They looked really happy, so I didn’t want to intervene or anything.”

“That would be news to me,” he paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Wait, what did she look like?”

There was an insistent knock on the door. 

“Sorry, we’re busy right now!” you called. “Ask the counter if you need anything.”

The door burst open, and your jaw dropped when the women came crashing in. She was much less put together than the last time you’d seen her, her hair flying everywhere and her cheeks flushed. But she had the same dark skin and hair, and the same commanding appearance that made you see why Fred liked her. 

“I’m sorry,” you said politely. “But I’m currently busy with a patient. Please wait outside or go to St. Mungos if you-”

“She's fine,” George interrupted. “This is Angelina, my girlfriend.”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t Fred you’d seen kissing a girl, it was George. Who was kissing his girlfriend. Like a normal person. 

You were completely and utterly stupid. 

“Angelina, this is that girl that Fred won’t shut up about.”

“Oh excellent!” She strolled over to you and stared at you seriously. “Please go out with him. Just to put him out of his misery. All I hear about anymore is him whining that some beautiful girl from the shops won’t date him and I need it to stop,” Her eyes were wide and solemn. “Please.”

George snorted. “Way to expose Freddie there.”

Angelina grinned back at him. “I think he needs it.”

“Well,” you clasped your hands, ignoring the redness in your cheeks. “I’m just going to do a quick skull exam just in case he hit his head, and then I’ll set his leg and let him rest.”

You couldn’t believe you’d messed it up this bad. Of course, you’d just seen Fred’s identical twin kissing his girlfriend. How hadn’t you thought of it before?

You quickly began your work, murmuring spells to yourself as you ensured everything was fine. You winced at the loud crack that sounded when Fred’s leg was set, but a final “Episkey,” finally healed the break.

You turned to face George and Angelina, who were watching with rapt attention. “Fred needs to sleep for an hour or two, just to make sure he doesn’t feel all the pain right away. I’d prefer to keep him here, just to make sure he stays asleep and pain-free, and I’ll also be able to check him over again once he wakes,” you said. “But I’ll do whatever you guys want.”

Angelina elbowed George before he could speak. “I think Fred will be perfectly content with staying here for a few hours.”

“Yup,” George said. “He’ll be fine.”

*

You’d been running in to check on Fred for what probably was close to every 5 minutes for the past hour and a half. Martha had given you multiple suspicious nods and knowing looks every time you stepped out of the back room, and she winked at you as she left at the end of her shift.

The store was closed and empty after another long and busy day, and the urge to go check on Fred was already pulling at you. 

Just in case.

It seemed your intuition had been correct, as he began to stir the moment you opened the door. His nose twitched adorably, and there was a small smile on his face as his eyes opened, the sleep still present in his stare.

Without thinking, you stroked his hair, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned into your touch, the smile on his face growing. It was all so domestic, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from spreading across your face. 

“Your smile is so pretty,” Fred mumbled. “You should do that more.”

Warmth filled your face. “I like yours too,” you sat on the edge of his bed. “Does anything still hurt?”

“Not when I’m looking at someone as beautiful as you.”

“You are shameless!” you giggled, smacking him on the side.

“Are you slapping a patient?” Fred teased. “I’m gonna have to report you to the Ministry.”

“You’re making me wonder if you have brain damage that I missed somewhere.” You said as you helped Fred sit up on the side of the bed. “Let me check again.”

Fred, much to your surprise, passed all of his exams with flying colors.

“First time that’s happened,” he joked. 

“I guess that means you’re sane enough for me to do this.”

You leaned in and brought your lips against his. Fred gasped into your mouth and responded eagerly, his hand rising to cup your face and bring you closer. His mouth was soft and gentle, and you almost wanted to cry with how sweet he was. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while your other hand grabbed his bicep.

Fred leaned back for a moment, chuckling. “I guess you’re finally free to touch my arms now.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been thirsting over my arms the entire time we’ve known each other.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughed again as he leaned back in, taking control of the kiss this time. He was more passionate now, and you let out a gasp as his tongue brushed against yours. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and you had to break the kiss because you couldn’t stop smiling.

After you leaned back, Fred just stared at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. Sure, he was already handsome, but that smile made him look ten times better, and even younger than before. His freckles made his smile boyish, and there was childlike joy in his face as he looked at you. 

“What made you change your mind?” Fred asked after a moment, his brows furrowing. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”

“So here’s the thing,” you laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”

Fred’s eyes widened. “I think you’re the one who needs to get your brain checked, love. Because I think I was being pretty obvious.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be nice to me now.” You poked his chest. “But remember when I told you I’d come over to see your shop the day after we met?”

“Vividly.”

“Yeah, so I ended up seeing George and Angelina kissing in front of the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and since someone,” you stared at him pointedly, “didn’t tell me he had an identical twin, I assumed it was you.”

Fred was silent for a moment. “I have been coming to your shop nonstop for months, and you still thought I had a girlfriend the whole time?”

“Well now it seems stupid-”

He kissed you lightly before you could finish. “You can never make fun of me for being clueless again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to upstage me.”

Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that was on your face, and you were sure Fred had a similar one right next to you. He squeezed your shoulder, and you leaned your head against him. Warmth enveloped you, and you’d never been so comfortable before.

“Don’t worry, love,” Fred said. “You’re the only one I think about.”

*

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, posting to Tiktok: Why does Steve do a couples costume with his best friend and not me? Why don’t we do group costumes? Great questions.

Eddie: I married a man that got dumped so hard at a Halloween party that it changed the trajectory of his life.

Eddie: At that party? Wore a couples costume so he vowed never to wear a matching costume with the person he was dating. Which we’re not dating so-

Steve: We date! We go on dates. That’s dating!

Eddie: We’re married. I don’t think us dressing up as Bill and Ted is going to destroy a thirty year relationship.

Steve: You don’t know that.

Eddie, heavy sigh and then cheerful: Anyways, it works out better for me. Getting dumped on this day has made him incredibly horny every Halloween since.

Steve:

Steve: Don’t say that

Eddie: Notice how he didn’t say it wasn’t tr-

*video ends because Steve threw a pillow at Eddie and he dropped his phone in between the bed frame and the wall*

[gotlostonmywayhome]

This would be so much fun to write. I wish my brain would word so I can write it. So many ships that I love would be perfect for this.

[blckbrrybasket]

𓆩 𓉸 𓆪 Kinktober 2024

• MDNI! porn with little plot

• all of these are x reader with no use of y/n

• both female and gender neutral readers featured

꒰33k+ words total꒱

1st. — “Hotter than a Burning Fire”

        -> Face sitting + Inexperience, Robin Buckley

2nd. — “Give and Take”

        -> Squirting + Edging, Steve Harrington 

3rd. — “Bite her Hip”

        -> Caught + Hate Sex, Nancy Wheeler

4th. — “Yer Killin’ Me”

        -> Boot Worship, Arthur Morgan

5th. — “Girls on Film”

        -> Being Filmed, Mickey Altieri

6th. — “Heaven in Your Mouth”

        -> Throat Fucking + Breath Play, Rafe Cameron

7th. — “Closer”

        -> Mutual Masturbation + Forbidden, Robin Buckley 

8th. — “Oh Honey”

        -> First Time + Domination, Kurt Kunkle

9th. — “Hearts a Mess”

        -> Public Sex + Gag, Art Donaldson

10th. — “Ghosting”

        -> Under the table, Javier Peña

11th. — “Burning For You”

        -> Sleepy Sex + Cockwarming, Sejanus Plinth

12th. — “She’s in Parties”

        -> High sex, Rafe Cameron

13th. — “Melting With You”

        -> Double Penetration, Stu and Mickey

14th. — “As You Are”

        -> 69, Ellie Williams

15th. — “Of Love For Love”

        -> Cream Pie + Cum Play, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

16th. — “Maneater”

        -> Dacryphilia + Masochism, Kurt Kunkle

17th. — “What I Need”

        -> Degradation + Cum Eating, Ethan Landry

18th. — “I was made for loving you”

        -> Praise Kink + Body Worship, Steve Harrington 

19th. — “Takin’ Time”

        -> Spanking + Orgasm Denial, Joel Miller

20th. — “Sweet As Whiskey”

        -> Blood Kink + Period, Vampire!Eddie Munson

21st. — “Wind You Up”

        -> Hair Pulling + Rough Sex, Trevor (Hellraiser)

22nd. — “Eyes On Me”

        -> Bondage + Femdom, Agent Whiskey

23th. — “Show and I’ll Learn”

        -> Sex Toys, Robin Buckley

24th. — “If You Knew”

        -> Overstimulation + Wet Dream, Joel Miller

25th. — “Hell And You”

        -> Mask Kink + Knife Kink, Stu Macher

26th. — “You’ve Got Me Now”

        -> Dry Humping + Tipsy Sex, Eddie Munson

27th. — “Happy Birthday, Baby”

        -> Lingerie + On The Counter, Walter ‘Keys’ McKey

28th. — “Quit While Ahead”

        -> Pussy slapping, Rafe Cameron

29th. — “Love My Way”

        -> Scissoring, Tara Carpenter

30th. — “Suck It Up”

        -> Marking + Possessiveness, Love Quinn

31st. — “Body Electric”

        -> Cucking + Breeding Kink, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington

taglist closed!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Robin might platonically marry Steve, though it's not the only reason, just so she can say dramatically in an argument:

"That's it! I'm divorcing you, and I'm taking everything!"

It's usually only said when they're playing monopoly. Steve would respond with:

"Fine! But I'm keeping your last name and the kids!"

"I never wanted them in the first place!" Robin shrieked.

"What a rude thing for our dad to say," Dustin said.

They were eating popcorn and watching the whole thing unfold before them.

"Well, it's not like we don't all have daddy issues," Max said. "Except for Lucas."

"What am I looking forward to with that? Any advice?" Lucas said.

"Don't date older men," Max said. "Especially ones who are old enough to actually be your father."

"You mean the same age as Robin?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah," Max said.

"Damn, there was this cute college guy - "

"Cheating whore!" Robin shrieked.

"And here it comes," Max grinned.

She hollered and flipped the table.

"Yeah, that's right, I cheated. Dustin isn't yours!" Steve yelled.

"I knew it!" Robin gasped.

"Okay, so when Dustin said that things get intense with Steve and Robin during Monopoly. . ." Nancy said, trailing off.

"Yeah, he wasn't kidding," Jonathan said.

Eddie was gaping with Jonathan, Nancy, Vickie, Chrissy, and Argyle while the kids watched from the sidelines.

"Who else isn't mine?! I bet it's both Mike and Dustin. They both could be Eddie's! Look at them!" Robin yelled.

"Babe, I swear, I didn't touch Steve," Eddie said to Chrissy.

"Okay, first off, Dustin and Mike are not actually Steve’s sons, and two, this is just a game," Chrissy said. "Also, Steve can't get pregnant."

"Oh no! Did the doctor say why?" Eddie asked with a gasp.

"Eddie? Did you smoke with Jonathan and Argyle without me?" Chrissy asked.

"Totally," Argyle said.

"The wedding rings were a nice touch," Nancy said.

"Oh, no, they actually got married. I was the witness!" Vickie exclaimed happily. "I got to kiss the bride!"

"What?!"

"We were at Steve's house when Steve's parents came home and immediately started ragging on Steve about what a disappointment he was, that they were his only family. . .blah, blah, blah. Anyway, Robin was like "not anymore" before dragging him out of the house. We went to a wedding chapel, and I watched as my girlfriend married her platonic soulmate," Vickie said. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Didn't you notice that Steve took her last name?"

"I thought he kept calling for Robin whenever someone said Harrington," Jonathan realized. "He was correcting them."

"Buckley!" Argyle laughed.

"Yeah!" Steve and Robin yelled, looking at them.

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered.

"Well, hey, we're no longer bastards," Max said. "Except Mike. There's no fixing that."

"Hey!"

[cheer-nympho]

The older kids all have wills.

Nancy, Robin, Steve and Jonathan, ages 18 to 21, all have wills tucked away in various boxes under beds and behind wardrobes.

Their similarities only extending to the fear felt when writing them, mixed with resigned acceptance. A common feeling of “Man, it sure is sad that my late teenage years are spent contemplating the very real possibility of gruesome early death, I should be at the club.”

But in every other aspect they are completely different.

Nancy’s was written on a cream notepad with dainty flowers surrounding the border. Written from a view of logic and forward planning, a need to protect her family. All of the demands straight to the point, no nonsense.

Warped only by the small tear stains across the bottom.

Robin’s was clearly written in a panic, barely legible handwriting on a ripped off lined sheet.

Written after she read an article about a man whose boyfriend was refused access to him after his death because there was no will.

She refused to leave anyone in the dark like that.

Jonathan’s was the most emotional, surprisingly. But most of that emotion was palpable anger, the word “nothing” pressed so hard into the yellow paper next to Lonnies name it had almost ripped the page.

Even if it was the last thing he did, Jon would keep Lonnie away from them.

Steves was written begrudgingly, more out of a need to prevent his parents from tossing it all. They weren’t around to know about Robin or the kids, wouldn’t know he’d promised Lucas the car or Max his records.

They weren’t evil people, they just didn’t know. This way they would.

They hadn’t spoken about it in advance, hadn’t co-ordinated it or hidden them together like a morbid friendship pact. They had all just at some point come to the realisation that, given their current lives, it may one day be necessary.

Eddie had not had that thought.

Eddie Munson had many thoughts.

He had thoughts on the disease of pop music sweeping the last worthwhile radio station, he had thoughts on the price increases in his favourite gaming store in Indy, he had thoughts on selling enough stock to buy a new trailer gas canister.

What he very rarely had thoughts on was death.

It took a lot for him to say that these days, considering where he’d been not too many years ago. But these days the only thoughts on death he had were more abstract and fleeting, nothing more than the average schmuck.

And even if the thought would have crossed his mind, he would have shrugged it off with a ‘Wayne knows what to do.’

He had no other family and, as far as Eddie was concerned, nothing particularly valuable to single out to anyone. He may need one of the guys to burn the shoebox hidden under his bed, but that could be a more verbal agreement between bros.

So Eddie didn’t have a will.

Didn’t have a plan, didn’t have the worry.

And it’s not until he’s lying on his back, being cradled by a child that frankly should not have to see the insides of Eddies stomach, that he remembers that.

It rushes to him in a panic, the thoughts feeling slow and syrupy but in reality only taking a split second.

He needed to write a will.

He needed Wayne to know that Eddie /wanted/ him to have everything, not just given it by family rights.

He needed to write Dustin in, and Corroded Coffin, maybe even some random shit for all the other nerds.

A donation to Hawkins Church to really confuse them, not that Eddie would be leaving any money behind. Maybe they could have his guitar.

When he got back he would write it up on the finest non-scrunched up paper he could find.

When he got back he would take care of it all.

But that was a job for later Eddie, right now he really needed to sleep.

He could see Dustin crying above him but that was okay, he’d take care of it when he woke up.

When he wakes up he’ll take care of it all.

When he wakes up he’ll write his will.

When he wakes up.

[tubesock86]

80s BABY!

[dynamic-power]

The four of them are sitting in Robin's living room watching a movie when Robin's mom pops her head in and says that the pizza had arrived. Steve and Robin stand from the couch immediately, pushing and shoving at each other to get to the kitchen first. Nancy and Eddie stay behind, heads tilted together as they talk and giggle in hushed tones.

By the time Nance and Ed have made it to the kitchen, Robin and Steve have made it back to the couch. Robin's mom joins them after a moment, sitting in one of the chairs they've pulled in from the dining table to seat all five of them.

As Robin reaches over to try and pluck a piece of pepperoni from Steve's pizza, Steve catches Robin's mom watching them with a fond smile and twinkling eyes.

Steve knows that look. That's the look of a mother who thinks Steve is the perfect boyfriend to their daughter.

He spots a flash of curls before the couch sinks down beside him. He can divert Robin's mom's attention and show her that he and Robin really are just friends. Nancy won't mind. She'll understand and play along, so he lets his hand drift out to grip her thigh. "Hey, baby, do you think -"

Only his palm doesn't land on the cotton of Nancy's skirt. It touches rough denim instead.

He should snatch his hand back, should apologize and explain, but as his eyes meet the wide, startled gaze of Eddie, he freezes.

Eddie's eyes flash up to Robin, then to her mom, and Steve realizes that Eddie has understood. A warm palm slides onto his and dexterous fingers flip his hand over and twine with his own. "Think what, sweetheart?"

Gooseflesh rushes up his arm as Eddie's rough thumb begins to stroke his hand, and he swallows down a potentially embarrassing noise. "Um. Do you think your uncle would mind if you stayed with me tonight?"

Eddie smiles at him, wide and bright and disarming. "No, I don't think he'd mind. Parents out of town again?"

Robin's mom has diverted her gaze back to the TV, but Robin and Nancy are now staring at them with wide eyes. He ignores them. "Yeah."

"Big, spooky house too much for you?" Before Steve can reply, Eddie shifts closer to him and settles against Steve's side. "I'll protect you, sweetheart."

They watch the rest of the movie that way. Steve finds it a little odd to finish eating using his wrong hand, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to let go of Eddie.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble

Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta

~~~

His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.

What’s wrong with your back?

Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.

Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.

She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.

But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”

Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.

Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.

Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.

Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line. 

But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately. 

The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static. 

So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.

Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.

By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.

He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.

–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?

Robin?

There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.

That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet. 

It was a daisy.

“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”

My favorite.

Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways. 

But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents. 

You smell kind of like sunflowers

“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”

She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.

I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.

He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.

“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.

Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down. 

She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out. 

Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?

He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.

She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.

“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.

He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.

What magnets?

Never mind, Robs, shut up.

“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”

When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”

DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!

Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”

They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.

Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–

What…?

– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.

“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”

Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.

I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just–

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–

“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.

“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!”

Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?

“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”

It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.

“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.

Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?

“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”

“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”

Robin, don’t–

But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.

Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.

Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.

Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.

Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”

“I know, Nance, that’s not–”

“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now. 

Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble. 

“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, knows he'll be tasting that black sludge in his nightmares. 

Now that’s gay panic.

I thought that’s not what that means, Rob

Ugh, I regret teaching you things.

Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”

To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.

Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Joyce Byers?” She giggles and rolls her eyes. 

Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her brown, curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and almost brown under the dark sky, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie. 

Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–

“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”

This is why they call you mom.

“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”

“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint. 

She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.

Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.

Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[stevieschrodinger]

Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago, is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.

All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright.

Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.

He closes his eyes.

There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.

He's standing in a kitchen. it's nice. Eddie's clean; he's wearing sweats and a tee. Barefoot. The kitchen smells like coffee, and sun is shining in through the window.

Somewhere in the house, a child sequels; Eddie startles. "Steve?" He asks, carefully. "I mean...not that it isn't-"

The child comes barreling into the room. It's a little girl. She's wearing the smallest Dio shirt Eddie's ever seen. She throws herself at Eddie's legs, screaming "Papa!"

Eddie has no idea what his face is doing as he looks down at this little girl, but Steve is taking his hand, tugging it, Eddie looks up, "it happened again, didn't it? You forgot again?"

"I...what?"

Steve scoops up the little girl, throwing her over his shoulder, she squeals again, laughing like this is the best thing ever, "come on pumpkin patch, Papa's not feeling so hot today and auntie Robin's going to be here in two whole minutes."

He looks back to Eddie, mouthing 'just wait, okay?'

Eddie, at a loss, just nods.

He creeps to the doorway, watching, fascinated, as Steve Harrington fixes the little girls hair into pig tails. Helps her get her socks straight. Helps her tie the laces on her sneakers. Gets her back pack on her, "eat your carrot sticks today, okay Ronnie?"

'Ronnie,' Eddie mouths to himself.

Watches as Steve puts her little hand into Robin's, standing on the front porch. Robin looks different. Older. She's smartly dressed.

Steve whispers something to her, and she looks at Eddie. Smiles a sad smile. They leave.

Steve stands there for a moment, waves them off, then closes the door. He seems to steal himself, and then he turns and comes back to Eddie, "I have to go to work, but, come on, let me show you something."

Eddie follows Steve into an office, there's shit everywhere, "I don't come in here often, your mess drives me fucking batshit," Steve digs into a desk drawer, brings out a notebook. "I have no idea what's in here, I've never read it. Something about...what happened. You did die. You were oxygen deprived long enough to cause a brain injury, so sometimes you...forget everything. After the second time it happened, you started writing letters to yourself. So, yeah...you call it your instruction manual, I get it for you when this happens."

It takes Eddie what feels like a really fucking long time to process this, and he can't help but notice that Steve's eyes are wet, Eddie feels crushingly guilty about it.

"Okay so what do I...do?"

Steve shrugs, "read it, I guess. You add to it whenever anything important happens...Eddie...just, the bats, they did a number on you...when you, when you look at the scars, the first time, just, brace yourself, okay and...don't forget that I love you, no matter what, I love you."

And Steve just...leaves the house. Leaves Eddie in this absolute disaster of an office. Leaves him holding a notebook that's ratty and untidy and feels like it's bursting at the seams.

Eddie reads.

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple, but I'm you, from the past, and our dumb ass has fucking brain damage...

You're not going to fucking believe this...we bagged Steve Harrington...

Hold on to your hat big boy, but we got fucking published! And if you're reading this, then you are in for a treat, because it means you get to read our genius for the first time all over again...

Okay, so this one was a bad one, we initially, didn't react so well, so, here's what I was worried about, and I'll talk you through it...

So, I need you to not fuck this up for us, okay? So, this is the Steve Harrington play book. The man is romantic, buy flowers, do nice shit. I cannot stress this enough - just pick up your crap man, he hates it when the place is messy. Now, we have to get it right so here's everything I know, I'll start at the top and work down. He loves having his hair played with, and tugged, but not too hard, gentle but firm, there's a sweet spot. The neck, the whole thing is an erogenous zone, I really can't downplay the importance of the neck...

We bought a fucking house! Look at it! Just look at it! And Eddie does, because there's a Polaroid stuck to the page.

So, this might sound dumb, and I probably should have written to you sooner, but...Steve jizzed in a cup for Robs, and Nancy turkey basted it, you know. Anyway, the point is...Rob's pregnant. With our baby. And then me and Nance got drunk, like, to celebrate, and she got all sad that her and Robin weren't having a baby, stay with me, I know this is mad as shit, but Nancy wanted our kid and their kid to grow up together....

Look, I don't know if it's the stress of like, imminent fatherhood, but we've been forgetting a lot lately, so, here's the plan for when Rob's in labor, and everything you've talked to Steve about when it comes to being the stay at home parent, okay...

The next page is just a Polaroid, a little scrunched up face. A little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Ronnie Jamie Harrington'...

And the next page, another Polaroid, another scrunched up face, another little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Stephanie Edwina Wheeler'...

Steve comes home. He looks exhausted. Like, drained. And, worried and scared and pale and lots of other things Eddie can't even begin to imagine. Eddie holds his arms out and Steve practically throws himself into them, "how long does it take, for me to get back to normal?"

Steve shrugs, "it's different every time, but it's a good sign you're still here, sometimes you run. Those times are the worst ones."

Six weeks later, Eddie writes to himself, "do not, under any circumstances, run away..."

Eddie thinks he's seeing things. Thinks maybe he's going senile. But he hasn't forgotten for...well, it's been years now. At least seven or eight. And yeah, Ronnie might be about to finish high school and Steve might be stressed to fuck over her college applications, but...Eddie's glad. He's glad she's spreading her wings. He's glad they managed to produce a stand up human being.

He's really glad her and Steph are trying for the same colleges, they're always going to have each other.

But yea...he's worried his mind is kind of...slipping. Hasn't told Steve. Doesn't want to worry him. They're both sprouting a few gray hairs, no need to add to those.

But sometimes. Sometimes when Eddie looks out of the window, he thinks, for a moment, that the sky is dark and...it looks like snow?

And sometimes, Eddie catches himself in the mirror, and he's sure he's dirty. A mess. Covered in blood but...no. He walks back a step, checks again. Everything is fine.

Sometimes he's sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, in the beat of the music or the rumble of the car engine, he swears he hears things. Sometimes a voice. Sometimes it sounds like they're yelling.

Sometimes it sounds like Steve.

And once, he blinked awake, Steve bringing him a coffee. But it wasn't Steve, for the time between startled, half asleep blinks, it was Vecna.

It gets worse.

Something isn't right. The house is empty, and it shouldn't be.

He can hear Steve, but he can't find him. And that's silly because the house isn't that big. He searches and searches, growing more frantic. He calls back to Steve, but Steve...doesn't seem to hear him.

There's something dim about the light, but the light has always been that way, hasn't it? Something...dusty, in the air. Eddie feels like he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming; there's a crack in the living room wall. A crack that spreads and lengthens until the whole house is crumbling and Eddie can see clearly now that the sky here flashes red.

That it's always been flashing red.

How did he not see before? The dust on every surface? The pages of his notebook are blank. Eddie knows. He's always known.

Steve.

Steve is here. He's hanging from Eddie's fist, bruised and bloodied and begging Eddie. Begging Eddie to stop this, to hear him, to see him. It's Steve.

It's Eddie's Steve.

Next to him, Vecna says, "finish it."

Eddie has something in his hand, the hilt of something he's sure of, long and sharp and dependable.

Eddie doesn't think, he just moves.

He drops Steve.

He doesn't need to look. Eddie turns, and he swings.

Part Two

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Sorry, but I just had a thought and I’m exhausted and don’t know if I’m going to write anymore tonight.

Just Steve holding a slight grudge against Nancy after she pretty much calls his love bullshit in the bathroom. He feels lead on, he’s slightly bitter but he knows how to be discreetly passive if he needs to be. But thing is he doesn’t have the energy in him to be passive. If this had been before the monsters, and someone who he thought was the love of his life did what Nancy did and proceeded to end up dating the guy who she said not to worry about within days after getting into a fight, he would have probably done something stupid. Probably would have ruined her locker with mean words or something like that.

He wasn’t sure what he would do, he was exhausted and couldn’t think of what used to come easy to him. Or maybe he’s grown to realize how immature that was, how it didn’t even seem all that fun to do to someone. Just thinking back to spray painting slut on the theater makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Once, he used to be the one to climb up there and spray something even worst. Now the thought made him want to throw up.

And maybe the grudge he is holding against Nancy isn’t really a grudge. Maybe he has matured to realized that the grudge he held was within himself for how fast he had fallen. For how stupid he was for thinking the girl would ever end up with him. He should have seen the signs. How she defended Jonathan even after he took non consensual photos of him and her about to have sex. Which he still felt disgusted by, his skin still crawled uncomfortably around the little creep whenever he was close by.

Though when the time comes, he realizes he was holding a grudge against Nancy. When he falls harder for someone new he realizes within minutes that something was different about this one. Instead of smacking him in the shoulder and scolding him for staring to long, Eddie would pull his hair in front of his face with bright eyes. Would do something dramatic to snap Steve out of the trance he was in. Like lick his face instead of kissing him.

That was the other thing Steve discovered. In the moments where it was just the two of them, it seemed like every other minute time would stop and Eddie would be in the same bubble as him. Lost in the same spell that Steve had tumbled into, needing to kiss the other just as much as they needed oxygen to breathe.

Nancy rarely had those moments with Steve, and they had stopped right around the time she started hanging out with Jonathan.

And Steve does hold a grudge, for how she stayed with him longer than what she had to.

Eddie made him feel in love and loved. Whenever Steve watched the other man he could barely keep his hands to himself and the best part was Eddie didn’t care. Steve could bite off Eddie’s remaining nipple and the man would still let Steve do whatever he wanted to him. Nancy never trusted Steve and never earned Steve’s trust the way Eddie did within one week of knowing each other.

Eddie was the moon and Nancy had been the sun for Steve. The sun burnt his skin and left him blistered while the moon wrapped his arms around him and rocked him to sleep every night. While Steve worried about when the sun would explode, he never had to worry about the moon disappearing for to long. It always came back, no matter what happened. Even if Steve had been an asshole.

God was Steve in love. This was it for him. And maybe at one point he had loved Nancy just as much as he did Eddie.

But now, as each day passes he only finds himself falling more in love with Eddie Munson.

He slowly comes to the conclusion that his love was and will never be bullshit.

And when he finally sits down to talk to Nancy about it, he finally gets it off his chest. What had been bugging him for almost years before falling for Eddie.

“Nancy, we were bullshit. But my love, it was all real. Maybe not as strong as it is for Ed’s but I know that if … everything wasn’t such bullshit I could have gotten there.” Steve says softly to Nancy. Shortly after she confessed she still had feelings for him. He seen this conversation coming from a mile away, especially with how many one sided sparks happened between the two of them while running for their life’s on spring break.

And as he stands up, leaving her in her own shock. Letting her process that he was with Eddie, a man. He can’t help but feel proud of himself.

He didn’t intentionally hold this grudge, but he felt as if he got back at her the healthiest way he could. By maturing and moving on. And looking down at Nancy, he could tell that she needed time to do the same. Not to be with another man or date in general, but to just grow as a person. But that was no longer his problem. His problem was currently running up the steps of the trailer with what seemed to be a moving snake.

“Hey Stevie! Look what I found.”

Steve was in love, and it wasn’t bullshit.

[nancy-reads]

nancy's masterlist

warning that some of these fics are old and bullying is not nice!!

peter parker 🕷️

water and webs

levi ackerman 🧹

adoration and agony

smile a little more

fred weasley 💥

wake up 

am i the one you think about?

pt 1

pt 2

you belong with me

[morganbritton132]

I want a fic where Robin is adopted.

The only parents she has ever known are her own and the only time being adopted has ever bothered her was when Amanda St. James made fun of her for it in the third grade. But Robin told her that at least her parents wanted her and were not just stuck with her like Amanda’s parents, “And maybe that’s why your Mom and Dad are so unhappy all the time.”

She got in trouble for making Amanda cry and went back to never thinking about her birthparents. She had no interest in knowing anything about them and it stayed like that until she turned sixteen.

On her sixteenth birthday, her mom gave her a letter written to her by her birthmother. Robin doesn’t read it immediately, but eventually gives in to her own curiosity. She reads it over twice before her mind snags on a sentence, ‘I wanted to give you and your brother a better life…’ … you and your brother…. You and your brother…. You and-

“I have a brother.”

This eats at Robin, especially after her dad’s call to the adoption agency goes nowhere. It eats at her so much that she finally gives in – Fred Benson swears up and down that Nancy Wheeler is the best investigator on the school paper – and asks for help.

Nancy says yes and is maybe a little too invested in finding the truth, but honestly, Robin is having fun and she wants to find her apparent twin. She wants to know about his life. Settle the whole nurture over nature thing.

They hit a lot of walls, a lot of dead ends. They break a few rules and maybe commit a felony. They enlist Jonathan Byers to help and even Eddie Munson at one point because he knows how to pick locks, and it’s all for nothing.

One day when they have everything they’ve found spread out across the Wheeler’s dining room table, Steve comes over to pick up Dustin. He looks down at the whole mess and points at her birth certificate like, “Hey, we were born on the same day.” 

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[munson-blurbs]

Hopper minutes after a giant machine explodes .5 feet away from him:

Steve, Robin, and Nancy minutes after being choked by Vecna's vines:

Meanwhile... Eddie minutes after a few lil bat nibbles:

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Robin: Okay, I have to make this fair. I want to date your ex, but I have to make this even. . .

Steve: Okay, little scared, where are you going with this?

Robin: Eddie! Will you go on a date with me?!

Eddie: What?! No!

Robin: Why not?

Eddie: I make it a point not to date lesbians.

Robin: Hm, sounds kind of phobic of you.

Eddie: Fucking. . .how??? Lesbians don't like men??

Robin: Well, we like men. They just don't get it up for us. Look, so you won't date me. . .not even platonically?

Eddie: Well, that's different. Of course, I'll date you platonically.

Robin: So, what you're saying is that you'll be my platonic boyfriend?

Eddie: Yes? Steve, what the hell is going on here?

Steve: I gave up asking questions a long time ago.

Robin looked at her watch with an intense look on her face.

Robin: Ok! I'm sorry to have to tell you this but Eddie, I'm going to have to break up with you. I just feel like we're in two different places. Sorry.

Eddie: That's okay? I don't know what the fuck is going on here, anyway.

Robin: Longest relationship of my life. My first relationship with a man. . .I think it went well. Okay, now if you ever wanted to date my ex-boyfriend, then I'm okay with that.

Steve: What?! Is that what this was about? This was about Nancy?! Robin, you didn't have to do that! I'm a big boy!

Robin: It wasn't just about respecting your feelings. . .it was also about balance.

Steve: Balance?

Robin: Remember that day I lost my shoe and I felt uneven for the rest of the day. I don't want to be uneven, Steven. I have enough balance issues as it is.

Nancy walks in. . .

Nancy: Robin. . .you want to go on a date with me?

Robin: Yeah, I'm single now. I just broke up with Eddie.

Nancy: Aren't you a lesbian?

Robin: I don't know why people keep pointing that out.