#steve and eddie meeting in every different world

[kennahjune]

My favorite occupations for Steddie fics

Steve- baker, teacher, guidance counselor, artist, musician/singer, florist (cannot get over florist Steve), NANNY/BABYSITTER STEVE

Eddie- tattoo artist, singer/musician, celebrity (does that count?), mechanic (I LOVE MECHANIC EDDIE), WRITER EDDIE

And I love mixing them so randomly.

Bitchy Florist Steve who has a “rivalry” with Asshole Mechanic Eddie next door because he plays his music obnoxiously loud? Absolutely.

Sweetheart Baker Steve who listens to all types of music while working to “get in the zone” listens to Corroded Coffin for the first time and is absolutely enamored by Lead Singer Eddie?? Sign me the fuck up.

Badass Guidance Counselor Steve who helps Tattoo Artist Eddie’s little sister Max and Eddie falls ass over tea kettle because “Jesus H Christ Max that’s your /guidance counselor/?”? HELL YEAH.

Musician Eddie who finds most of his inspiration from these beautiful art pieces he sees online that are made by Under-appreciated Artist Steve?? I’m already working on it!!

Celebrity Eddie who needs to find someone to watch his kid (Max) and Absolutely Amazing Babysitter Steve bringing his own kids (Dustin and Mike) along to play with Max and Eddie being floored by this stunning man who is so good with kids????? Would you believe me if I said I was working on it?

I just really like mixing and matching odd occupations.

[psychotic-nonsense]

"I'm sorry."

It's the first thing Steve says after everything.

After getting Vecna Cursed. After nearly dying. After a hallucination of Eddie saved him. After running through a looped forest. After finding sanctuary in Steve's memory of that Starcourt bathroom. After Eddie reveals himself as Eddie.

It's the only thing he can think of. It's not big enough to fit everything, but it's the only thing that fits in his mouth.

"Don't be."

Maybe that's the only thing Eddie can think of too. The only thing Eddie can bear to say.

Because don't be can't stop Steve's eyes from watering when he sees the vest in his closet. Don't be can't stop Steve's feet from dragging him to the cemetery every evening to clean Eddie's graffiti-covered tombstone. Don't be can't stop Steve from sitting beside Wayne and listening to him talk about the Eddie he remembers. Don't be can't stop Eddie's body from showing up in Steve's dreams, nor Eddie's corpse from his nightmares. Don't be couldn't keep the pain away enough, didn't stop Vecna from latching onto it while Steve was walking alone in the woods.

Don't be isn't enough for what Steve wants to hear. But even stuck here waiting, hoping, for someone to get Steve out, there just isn't enough time.

"I miss you."

"...Why?"

Eddie says it back so quickly, so quietly, like it's just unfathomable to him. Maybe it is, considering their last memories. But their eyes meet and he looks just as sad, just as longing, as Steve.

"You were my friend."

Steve can't help but say it like that. Like they were friends for years instead of days. Like Eddie was that important to him in their final moments. Like his heart really aches for Eddie every second of the apocalypse.

Can't help but say it like he means it.

"I wish we could've had more time..."

Steve's voice cracks a little there as he turns away, hiding. It's all he wants. It's all Vecna used to entice him with. It's all that's keeping him going, to finally fulfill the last request Eddie made. It's all he has left to feel close to Eddie.

The Eddie that's sitting right next to him, silent, his sight weighing on Steve's skin. Conscious and aware and the real Eddie. Trapped in Vecna's head as a backup power source, yet who still risked everything to come save Steve. Who Steve will never see again because killing Vecna means killing Eddie for good, and his heart doesn't want it, is begging for another solution...

But for once, his broken head overpowers his shattered heart.

"Maybe we did."

Eddie takes Steve's hand. Meets Steve's surprised look with his own small smile of hope. They're both suddenly tearing up, eyes glistening with life in this gray stall.

"Maybe in another world, we got a second first chance. A first second chance. Maybe even a third, or fourth. Maybe in a different life, we had everything we wanted. Because you, Steve Harrington, are too good for me to be doomed to meet just once."

And for a moment, Steve sees it. Feels it. Versions of them connected through the universe.

Little kids playing in the lake. One with bruised skin and shaved hair, loud but unfathomably lonely. One with a bruised heart and soft eyes, timid but stubbornly hopeful.

A rockstar with glittering chains, center stage in the spotlight. A set of eyes in the crowd or behind the curtain, watching only him.

A werewolf and a vampire, two cryptids of horror, meeting in the dead of a full moon night to feel safe with the only other one who understands.

A future where they won, where the only death was the one that mattered. A process of healing and learning, coming home to a family every single day.

A world without pain, without their hell, where two high schoolers found freedom from their shackles and company in each other. Hiding away together in the dark corners of the town.

Steve even sees other versions of them. Versions that he knows were originally never supposed to meet, yet forces so much greater than them pulled them together.

A metalhead drug dealer, constantly getting into trouble with one nail-bat-weilding cop.

A criminal's fugitive nature leading him to a rugged trailer park, and the dangerous owner within one such home.

An eccentric king in an old coliseum, always choosing one particular warrior as his champion.

A young programmer being pulled away from his work by sobs above his apartment, running upstairs to check on the law student that recently moved in.

Two actors, finding an easy friendship in the months of filming one season of a show that would change their lives.

In that moment, Steve's overwhelmed by the closeness he suddenly feels with the soul beside him. Falling into tears, he pulls Eddie into a tight hug, holding him so so close to convey everything he can't say. Feeling Eddie hold him back, hearing everything Eddie can't say in return.

Familiar music comes on outside the stall. Robin's voice calls out to him, telling him to come home.

And when he does leave, Steve hopes that someone out there will understand that he never can. Because here in Eddie's arms is the only place that will ever truly feel like home.

"Thank you... for everything, Eddie."

Thank you, Steve. For everything and more..."

--------------------

- List of AUs, in order, after, "Versions of them connected through the universe": Childhood Friends / Rockstar!Eddie / Werewolf!Steve & Vampire!Eddie / Eddie Survives / No Upside Down & High School

- List of Multiverse Steddie AUs, in order, after, "...yet forces so much greater than them pulled them together": Eddie x Gator / Baron x Michael / Geta x Sean / Keys x Eric / Quinn and Keery

[lexirosewrites]

Ok last slick sunday ask that's been sitting in my head!! The 2 part one I did was a great exercise & helped me get some imagery thoughts processed abt things for my haunted Harrington fic 👻

A!Eddie is ofc our favorite famous rock star, an aspirational horror director/actor, fantasy nerd, who's seen w a different omega in every city @ every event

O!Steve is a historian, specifically a costume historian, he has a degree tht he has framed in a reproduction of a rococo golden frame, he has a YouTube channel, Steve's Seams, tht he started initially as a way to keep his adopted mom (B!Claudia) updated & involved w his projects, he specializes in the mid to late Victorian era but he has put in the work on other projects of different eras (high middle ages, Renaissance, regency) Steve makes an effort to make these garments using materials & tools tht r as close to historically accurate as one can get, his videos r informative & calming & his voice is soothing & his projects r creative at their core

he did an entire video series when he was invited to the Met Costumes Department just absolutely nerding out, asking questions, having bubbly conversations. It's this series tht makes his channel suddenly blow up. He's getting comments on old videos, alot of the comments abt how attractive he is, the most popular videos tend to b his videos reviewing costumes in "period piece" movies/shows, not bc he's harsh but bc he takes the time to explain/illustrate how something would've looked if it'd been made accurate to the period the media is meant to b set in

Some time later.........

Eddie & Corroded Coffin r planning a series of music videos for their upcoming album, they've got a reputation for their conceptual albums tht have powerful aesthetics, their albums till now r set in blatantly fantasy worlds following a vague middle ages aesthetic, but now they're stuck.

They've made a rock opera essentially & they know the story they're telling in the album: an alpha detective finds themselves swept up in a missing persons case turned to a murder case tht leads them into a vampiric city underground, literal blood sucking mafia essentially, where they finds the victims omega mate amongst a coven of vampires, now turned & mated to the vampire tht leads the entire underground, the victim had been abusing the omega & when they went to the vampire mafia bc they saw no other recourse, the omega was discovered to b the reincarnation of the leaders first & only love, the album/opera ends w the detective being fed to the hungry horde.

They're throwing ideas back & forth for the music videos w their ever talented manager/agent/creative coordinator A!Chrissy, they have a disappointing meeting but when they come back the next day Chrissy has pep in her step & proudly shows them a YouTube video. It's a critique of one of their music videos from their first big break album, it'd been vaguely set in the middle ages/Renaissance, except this person doesn't care abt the music instead they’re observing the costumes, explaining the time period they'd been borrowing from, how the costumes would've been constructed/actually looked during the historic period they'd presented. Then Chrissy shows them a video of this YouTube channel constructing a Victorian opera gown & opera suit. It's a eureka moment as the band realizes where she's going w this, a Victorian vampire is classic! Why not lean into the whole thing? Eddie is quiet as they discuss giving one word & noncommittal answers, bc he's stuck staring at the gorgeous omega in the paused video, then he speaks up over all the noise saying they NEED this specific historian on their creative team specifically to consult & design the costumes. Chrissy raises an eyebrow but agrees

Steve agrees, signs a rlly big NDA, & is flown out to LA so he can begin his role as a consultant/designer for the 6 music videos the band has conceptualized for the album.

Steve meets the entire team at a meeting meant to discuss & establish the various logistics needed to make the videos the quality the band wants, they've hired a famous horror cinematographer, an even more famous horror director, everyone in the meeting has a lot of experience in a big scale filming environment & Steve doesn't, but he tries to not let it get to him. He wears garments he made himself (ofc) some of them he made on the channel even. A walking skirt in a very sensible deep green & an embroidered matching walking jacket r the focus of the outfit, when he gets to the building he's met by Chrissy & she leads him to the meeting room. He meets everyone especially the band, Eddie stumbles over his words, when Steve removes his walking jacket to reveal the equally green vest Eddie chokes on his water.

Blah blah blah

They don't want any of the ppl who audition for the role of the omega, Eddie is playing the vampire boss ofc & everyone's gotten closer to Steve & tht means everyone basically loves Steve, & hey he's an omega who is more than just pretty & he'd have a rlly easy time making a costume for himself, so Steve ends up as the omega in the music videos. Steddie get closer than they should since Eddie is technically Steve's boss

by the time the albums dropped with the music videos dropping each following week they've fallen fully in love & have discussed mating & Eddie’s been seen w a mystery omega around multiple cities but what's got everyone interested is the fact tht this is clearly the same person & they've been "practicing" for trying for a pup for awhile now😏

Dustin has a full freak out abt his older brother working w his favorite band of all time, AND HE HAD TO FIND OUT THRU PAPARAZZI THT HES DATING EDDIE MUNSON, when he tries to go to Robin w his melodrama tht rlly is more boundless happiness for Steve she blinks at him & tells him she already knew, Steve had told her abt their relationship literally two minutes after a conversation tht was followed by sex tht cemented them as romantic partners, before Dustin can leave to call his mom Robin tells him she knows already as well, after all Eddie had to ask SOMEONE for their blessing to mate & marry Steve & that's how Dustin learns they're engaged 🥰

i love how Steve is just living his best life (AKA making his hyperfixation into a career) and ends up snatched up by a rockstar with big ole heart eyes!!! he deserves nothing less!!!

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 8: Miscommunication

"I just don't know how to tell him, Robs."

Eddie didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he'd forgotten to grab a fresh towel before going to have a shower, he hadn't even known Steve was on the phone. But Steve had sounded worried talking and Eddie couldn't help himself, he always wanted to make sure his boyfriend was happy.

He couldn't hear what Robin said on the other line, but Steve's response was, "I don't want us to end up like my parents." Why would they end up like his parents? They were happy, weren't they?

Eddie had finished his tattoo apprenticeship, Steve was finishing college soon he was excited to start working in a school full-time, Eddie was seeing a bright future for them.

"I'm scared."

Scared? What was he scared of, of Eddie, their relationship?

Eddie couldn't listen to any more, moving quickly back to the bathroom, letting the water wash away his worries.

He tried not to think about it in the weeks that followed. Instead he focussed on work, on holding Steve close at night, on the sound of his voice, the shape of his smile. He wanted to commit it all to memory while he still could. Steve kept leaving in the afternoon, saying he was meeting up with Robin, which wasn't unusual but after that phone call Eddie couldn't help but worry.

It was a bad day at work that made it all come to a head. He'd had a girlfriend of a client come in and berate him for letting her boyfriend get a tattoo, his midday appointment went long and so he had to skip lunch and his car didn't start so his boss had to drop him home.

Steve is making dinner when he comes through the door, the radio is playing softly, the lights are turned low. Steve looks up and smiles at him and Eddie just breaks.

Steve's face quickly changes to one of concern as Eddie begins sobbing in their living room, quickly turning off the stove and taking Eddie's hands in his own.

"Eds, baby, what's wrong are you ok?"

Steve's voice is so soft, Eddie can't bear it. "I don't want to lose you," he cries into Steve's shoulder.

"Lose me? Eds, why would you lose me, I love you, just like you love me right?" Eddie's grip on Steve's fingers tighten, "I love you so much."

Steve pulls him closer, "Then why would you lose me? Did someone say something to you today?"

Eddie shakes his head, "I heard you on the phone to Robin, you said you had something to tell me, that you didn't want us to be like your parents, that you were scared."

Steve's eyes soften, "Eddie, love, you missed the most important part of that phone call." Eddie looked at him confused but Steve took a step back before bending down on one knee. That's when Eddie took in the rest of the room, the set table, the low lights really being candles, the fact that it was the 8th, their anniversary.

"Eds, I'm not just scared, I'm terrified, but you make me feel brave just because I know you love me. I don't want us to end up like my parents but every day you show me that we never will." Eddie is still crying, but for a completely different reason now.

"I do have something to tell you, I want to tell you that you're my person, my soulmate, my love and my future and most importantly I have something I want to ask you." Steve let go of one of Eddie's hands, reaching into his pocket pulling out a small box.

"I know we can't do it the legal way, but that has never really been your style anyway, so, Eddie Munson, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

Eddie hopes the kiss he pulls Steve into is enough of an answer but like any misunderstanding going forward, he thinks they can figure it out, together.

[steventhusiast]

Steve and Eddie both being autistic and not finding out until one of their kids gets diagnosed autistic in the late 2000s.

Turns out when you grow up not knowing you're processing things differently to everyone else, the alarm bells don't go off when your kids do the same. Not for them anyway. Not until a teacher called them to set up a meeting and gently suggested they get their kid assessed.

And while they're at the appointment, after making a few too many comments like "but that's normal right, I did that?" about different things, they end up leaving with a phone number for another doctor. Everything slots into place, they just don’t really know how to start unlearning their masks.

But they try. If not for themselves, for their kid, who they don’t want to grow up learning to detach themself and hide away from the world.

So they figure out how to help each other. They remind each other that stimming is okay and normal, try to set a good example for their kid of letting themselves self-regulate that way. They put time into figuring out everyone in their family's individual sensory sensitivities, and adjust their environments accordingly. They consciously try to be more direct with each other and their kids to avoid pointless misunderstandings. They try to work through the shame they feel when being their true selves around other people.

And they’re not always successful. But they do understand themselves a little better every day.

Plus, seeing their kid be able to grow up unmasked? To be authentically themself, without shame? It's healing. They never got to have that (may never truly have that), but they're gonna make damn sure their kid does.

[apomaro-mellow]

His Love Makes Me Beautiful

some a/b/o fluff

Steve knew he was handsome. He knew he was good looking. He'd been told so all his life in many different ways, so visually he was never lacking in confidence. But that confidence had a different flavor when he started being with Eddie. Eddie didn't look at him just like he was a ten out of ten. Eddie looked at him like he was the only man in the world.

He loved Steve with such adoration that it bordered on worship and at first Steve thought it too much but now he basked in it. And if it bordered on worship before, now that he was pregnant Steve felt like Eddie was literally sending up prayers to him.

"Hey there, baby", Eddie pecked Steve's lips as he came into the kitchen. "And hello little baby." He knelt down and kissed Steve's belly three times.

"I think you've increased your knee-dropping by 75% since you knocked me up", Steve smiled as he opened up the cabinet to pull out some syrup.

"You know I can't resist prostrating myself at your altar." Eddie glued himself to Steve's back, taking in a whiff of his sweet vanilla scent that was mingling with the pancakes he was dressing up. "Speaking of..." He turned Steve around lowered down to the ground again.

"Eddie, it's 7 in the morning."

"Curse you for turning me into a morning person", Eddie said in between kissing Steve's thighs where his shorts stopped.

"Don't you want breakfast first?", Steve asked, his hands braced against the counter.

"I'll have whatever they're serving right here." Eddie put one of Steve's legs over his shoulder and mouthed at his crotch which was already wet from Steve.

It didn't stop there. As Steve got bigger, Eddie did whatever he could to make him comfortable. And for once, Steve thought there might be a point where he got insecure about his appearance. He thought that as he started growing out of his clothes and gaining weight that he might begin to feel like he wasn't attractive anymore.

Eddie never let that happen. He still touched him the same way and just as much. Honestly sometimes it seemed that the pregnancy just turned Eddie on more. Steve didn't believe the whole 'alphas go crazy horny over their pregnant omegas' thing until he saw it in action with Eddie. He would go from lovingly rubbing his belly to tantalizingly drifting his hands down.

The alpha found it difficult to keep his hands to himself before all this. Now it was damn near impossible. Eddie wasn't kidding when he compared Steve's body to an altar. He was a regular patron to the Temple of Steve and considered himself honored to pay his respects.

Eddie watched as Steve's face contorted in pleasure while he fucked into him. Hands gripping the sheets and lips parted in a continuous moan, slick dripping down where their bodies met. Steve's stomach was covered in bite marks and sat roundly between them. Eddie felt like he was making love to a fucking fertility god and he simply the mortal blessed with the privilege.

At seven months pregnant, Steve would look at himself in the mirror, feeling so many things. The love he felt for his unborn pup was there the minute he confirmed it with a test. The ever-present confidence in his appearance was always there too. But he didn't just think he looked good. He felt beautiful because Eddie made him feel beautiful. And every time he looked at his baby bump, he thought about Eddie and his love, and how he literally had the physical proof of it, carried it around with him every day.

They scented each other, shared matching bond bites, and now soon there would be a walking, talking reflection of their love. The affection they had for each other, given life. And Steve couldn't wait to meet them.

[letstevengrantsleep]

Part Three

Previous part / Next part

Eddie Munson x reader slow burn

part summary: heated words are exchanged between you and Jake, big decisions are made, and bonds are broken

word count: 1,145

warnings: toxic horrid relationship, smacking (just the one, to the face, in the heat of the moment), swearing, ANGST

a/n: This chapter is kinda heavy so please be aware of that before you read it. I've got a humble little taglist going too so lemmie know if you want to be added to it okay thanks byeee xoxo

main masterlist series masterlist

Your heart is pounding in your chest so hard you can feel it in your throat, following Jake to your meeting spot as the dread seeps in. He's gone silent, the tension in the air palpable as he stops abruptly to huff and practically slams himself down onto a park bench.

"What's going on, Jake?" You ask, knowing full well that it's a ridiculous question. You know what's up, you just don't want to admit it yet.

"I thought I was clear on the phone about how much last night upset me."

You want to roll your eyes, tell him he's being ridiculous and to get over himself, but something holds you back.

"I can't help it if I bump into people on the street, Jake." You really do try to keep your tone neutral but there's an edge of bitterness that seeps through the seems, soaking your words as they leave your mouth.

"No. But you have full control over whether you stop and have a fucking conversation with them," your name leaves Jake's mouth and it's sharp, harsh. It sounds completely unlike any way he's ever said your name before. It makes you recoil slightly, pulling a face at his words.

"You're overreacting." Sighing, you run your hands through your hair in frustration, "we've literally known each other less than twenty four hours, you have nothing to worry about here."

It sounds unconvincing, and honestly you're not even trying to make your words sound any different. What's the point? He's only going to accuse you of lying anyway.

"This is a fucking joke," he groans, voice rising, "I feel like I'm loosing you." His hand comes up to touch your face and it's involuntary, the way that you flinch back before he makes contact. You don't think he notices. "It used to be just me and you against the world, baby. Now it's like there's all these people in your head, everyone except me."

Oh God.

You can taste acid at the back of your throat, and you're convinced it's been brought on by this sudden show of affection from your boyfriend. You're not used to it anymore.

"Jake." You warn, pulling away.

"See?" His voice raises again, drawing attention from a few passers by. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole. "I can't even touch you anymore. What's up with that?" There's that anger in his eyes again, glazed over like a bull seeing red.

All you can do is stare at him, not even knowing where to start with that line of conversation. There are so many reasons why you pulled away, where do you even start?

Fuck it.

"Do you think maybe if you hadn't ditched me for your friends last night then maybe I wouldn't have spoken to Eddie at all?" There's an edge to your tone but you're calm, way calmer than he is.

"The fuck you just say to me?"

"You heard me, Jake."

"I'm not having this conversation with you right now." He snaps.

That makes you laugh, really laugh. "Right," you nod, "because it only suits you to hash things out if you think I'm in the wrong, yeah?"

"Shut up," he grinds out your name through gritted teeth.

"No,” you shake your head, "actually I think I'll carry on. While we're at it, in fact, let's talk about other noted absences."

"Shut it-"

"-what about the time you left me for four hours to go speak to a 'friend' while we were at my graduation?"

"I mean it, stop-"

"-or the time you forgot to pick me up from the station after I'd been to visit my dying grandma, alone-"

"No."

"Or every time we go to Steve's an you leave me to go 'swim' for hours when you're actually-"

SMACK.

Silence.

The sound came before the sting, and it takes you a second to catch up with what's actually happened. Instinctively, your hand comes up to grasp at your cheek, eyes stinging with tears not through sadness or fear but because of the impact. Your heart is in your throat again but this time in pure fucking rage. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake says your name. Sheepishly. Quiet. His hand is coming up to meet yours but you move back, shaking your head.

"We're done." Is all you say. Voice stoic, mind made up.

"No, you're not doing this to me." Jake's stubborn, but so are you.

"Jake you just fucking hit me in a public park. We. Are. Done." You accentuate every word, making sure he understands how grave a mistake he has just made.

He says your name again, firmer this time. "We're not breaking up."

"Yes we are, Jake. You made that decision for us."

-

You're not even sure how you made it back home without a fight, dodging the main street in favour of side streets as the sting on your cheek got more and more aggressive. As you close the door you take a second to compose yourself, the silence of your home a stark contrast to the chaos of the park.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself off the wall and make your way to the bathroom, your steps heavy and uncertain. The light flicks on after a moment and you brace yourself as you look in the mirror. There's no emotion on your face, you can't even bring yourself to look surprised as you glance at the deep bruise forming on your cheek.

Turning on the cold water you splash your face in an attempt to sooth the ache. As the water drips down onto your chin you look back at your reflection. The face staring back at you is angry, determined. This isn't about the bruise, this is about the betrayal. The broken trust and the realization that something had to give.

You take a deep breath, shaking out your limbs as you straighten your posture, stretching your neck with closed eyes. Somewhere in that bathroom you find a new sense of resolve, the determination not to take any more backwards steps.

The phone sits, quiet on the shoddy side table, and as you take a seat next to the window you catch it in your peripheral. For a moment you sit there, debating whether it's worth the trouble. If picking up the phone and calling someone is worth all the inevitable questions. Paralyzed, you mull it over a thousand times, each with a different outcome, before ultimately deciding that you're going to have to explain eventually, so why not now?

You grab the receiver, punch a series of numbers into the square number pad and hold it to your ear.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

"Hiya, it's me." A beat while the person on the other end responds, "yeah, something's happened. Can I come over?"

Taglist:

@sapphire4082 @twirls827 @bewr0210

[jewishrat420]

Steve always thought Eddie was beautiful.

He never let himself linger too long on it in fear of what he might see if he let himself look. If he let himself dust off the dirt that lay on top of it, too overwhelmed by the possibility that he really hadn’t had himself figured out the way he thought he did.

But it’s true.

Like the sky knows clouds that filter in and out of eyesight, like the moon knows the unwavering devotion of the tide, Steve knows this to be a fact as irrefutable as the nature of gravity:

Eddie Munson is beautiful.

It’s in the way his hair bounces with every step. These springy, frizzy little curls that Steve desperately wants to know, intimately, the way he knows his own. Wants to compare them, wants to feel them in the spaces between his fingers, the sensitive parts that nothing else really touches.

It’s in the way he lights up a room as soon as he steps into it, a walking sun that burns so bright that he leaves the hole of every space he was once in great and gaping and singed at the edges. Everything he touches turns to gold, everyone he meets ruined for anyone else.

It’s in the way he carries himself. Tall when people are looking and small when they aren’t, like his body is a show that no one ever willingly buys tickets for but ends up seated front row at regardless.

Steve would buy tickets.

If he had known, if he had been brave enough when it really counted, he would have bought tickets.

There is no one like Eddie, and there never will be again.

But it doesn’t matter now.

Because Eddie is still beautiful, Steve thinks, even when he’s pale.

Even when his skin is sallow and sunken, even when his big brown eyes are tucked behind grayed eyelids.

Even when Steve himself was the one to shut them, but only after he spent nearly an hour gazing into their emptiness.

His hair is shorter now, the frayed edges trimmed by Wayne. He’d laughed as he did it, a sad little hitch in his throat, because apparently Eddie never let him cut his hair when he was younger.

When his blood flowed warm through his arteries, when his skin was still pink.

Wayne said he used to bounce his leg so hard that he was worried he was going to stab the scissors right through his thick skull.

So Eddie grew his hair out, split ends running wild.

But Steve still thought he was beautiful. Frizzy hair and all.

Steve’s never seen him dressed so fancy, not even for his own graduation.

But then again, he never got to try on that suit he borrowed from Wayne. Never got to see just how long the sleeves were, because he never got to be as tall as his uncle, did he?

No, Eddie never got the chance.

Never got the chance to he a normal boy with a normal childhood. To grow into the man he could have become and then into the world that was always too small to fit him.

Eddie Munson: born to die in Hawkins, Indiana.

If only he had tried just a little bit harder.

Fought just a little bit longer.

But he did his best, didn’t he?

Steve certainly thinks so.

Steve thinks he looks beautiful, now, still, always. He tucks a trimmed curl behind his ear, wishes he could have known what it would feel like if his skin were warm.

But it’s okay. He’ll know the feeling one day.

Next time.

Next time, they’ll try again. They’ll try harder.

Next time, Steve won’t be afraid to tell Eddie how beautiful he is.

Won’t be afraid of what comes after, because it will be different.

It won’t end with Eddie, sallow and skinny in a suit six sizes too big for him.

It won’t end with Eddie, pale and pretty as ever, laying in the coffin that’s been on reserve for him since the day he was born.

Next time will be different, see, because it won’t end.

They’ll do it right.

Steve will do it right.

And Eddie will still be beautiful, and Steve will tell him so.

x

original post

[burntsecrets]

Steve Doesn't Know

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Word Count: 2022

Prompt: Scotty Doesn’t Know by Lustria

Summary: A secret affair between the reader and Eddie Munson begins to unravel when Steve Harrington, unaware of their relationship, confesses his feelings.

Warnings: secret relationship, implied sexual content, romantic tension, emotional manipulation, jealousy, love triangle, secret-keeping, mild angst, friendship betrayal, power dynamics, suspense

You lean against the worn, grimy counter of the laundromat, the faint hum of machines filling the air, trying your best to focus on the magazine spread out before you. The pages are glossy but dull, and the content is irrelevant because your attention keeps slipping to the back corner where Eddie Munson sits, legs sprawled out, his dirty boots propped lazily on the folding table. His posture is relaxed, one arm draped over the back of the chair while the other holds up a dog-eared comic book. He flicks through the pages absentmindedly, not really reading, and every few moments, his lips curl into that familiar, secretive smirk—the one that sends your pulse racing.

It’s a smirk he reserves just for you that says he’s in on the secret you’ve both been keeping for months. Every shared glance, every brush of his fingers, feels like it’s charged with something unsaid—something electric and heated that only the two of you understand. His dark eyes lift every now and then to meet yours, just for a split second, and in that brief moment, it feels like the rest of the world disappears. 

It’s a game, a dangerous dance of sneaking away, of meeting in the dead of night when the town is quiet. The back of Eddie’s van has become your sanctuary, the place where he pulls you close, his hands on your waist, his lips on yours as the metal walls rattle around you. Or sometimes it’s his trailer, the cramped, messy space where you can hear the creak of the bed as he whispers your name against your skin.

No one knows—not Steve, not your other friends. They’re all blissfully unaware of the secret conversations shared in the shadows, of the way Eddie’s smirk grows just a little darker when you’re alone together. And when you're back out in the open, you both return to your roles, acting as if nothing's different, hiding behind casual smiles and subtle nods. But you feel it—he feels it—the crackling energy that lingers between you, the magnetic pull that no one else can see. It’s a secret world, one only the two of you share, and with each stolen moment, the line between danger and desire blurs a little more.

The bell above the laundromat door jingles loudly, its shrill ring cutting through the stillness, pulling you back to the present. Your gaze snaps up just in time to catch Steve Harrington as he strides in, his broad grin lighting up the otherwise dingy room. There’s an easy confidence in the way he moves like he’s oblivious to the undercurrent of tension that hangs thick in the air between you and Eddie. Steve’s always had that ability—his carefree charm, his boy-next-door grin that disarms everyone in the room.

He heads straight toward Eddie, hands shoved in his pockets, oblivious to the electric glances exchanged between you and the man sitting in the back. Eddie barely shifts in his seat, though the smirk playing at the corners of his lips never falters. There’s a strange dynamic between the two of them—part grudging respect, part camaraderie, built from their shared battles in Hawkins. They’re not best friends, but there’s something between them that can’t entirely be defined, and today, Steve seems utterly unaware of just how much he’s walking into.

You force yourself to look back down at the magazine, its glossy pages a blur. Your fingers tighten around the edges, though you try to appear casual, pretending that you’re engrossed in the article. But your pulse quickens, the beating of your heart loud in your ears, because something feels different today. Steve has that look like he’s here for more than just a casual chat.

Steve approaches Eddie with an easy confidence, standing just a few feet from him. “Hey, Eddie, you got a minute?”

You glance up briefly, just in time to catch Steve standing a few feet away from Eddie, his easy confidence still intact. There’s something in his tone, though—something that tells you he’s about to say something important. Your curiosity spikes, and you shift your posture slightly, angling your body toward them while pretending to flip another page of the magazine, though you aren’t reading a single word.

Eddie lowers the comic book in his hands slightly, one eyebrow quirking up in mild interest. “Yeah? What’s up, Harrington?” His voice is relaxed, but there’s a glint in his eyes, a knowing look that’s hard to miss. He’s already sensing that Steve has something on his mind, something more than idle conversation.

Steve shifts on his feet, a nervous energy radiating from him that’s out of place compared to his usual carefree demeanor. His eyes flick briefly in your direction—so quick you almost don’t notice—before he looks back at Eddie. You keep your head down, pretending not to notice how he hesitates. Steve’s hands dig a little deeper into his pockets, and then he lowers his voice, his tone suddenly quieter, more cautious.

“It’s about her,” Steve says, his voice dropping just enough to make it clear he’s trying to keep this conversation between him and Eddie.

Your body tenses instinctively, fingers tightening slightly on the magazine as his words hit you. Me? Steve wants to talk about me? A rush of surprise shoots through you, making your pulse race faster. You fight to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away, though the words on the page blur beneath your gaze. You stay frozen, pretending to stay focused on the magazine, but your heart is hammering in your chest.

Eddie leans back slightly in his chair, and though he keeps his casual posture, you notice the subtle change in his body language. His smirk deepens, and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes like he’s already two steps ahead of whatever Steve’s about to say. The tension in the room thickens, heavy and unspoken, as you wait for the conversation to unfold, your heartbeat syncing with the undercurrent of secrecy swirling around the three of you.

"Her, huh?" Eddie's voice is slow and deliberate, each word rolling off his tongue with calculated ease. He leans back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Steve with a glint of amusement as if he already knows where this conversation is going and savoring every second. The casual smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s entirely in control here. "What about her?"

Steve shifts nervously, the weight of what he's about to say hanging between them. He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his usual confidence faltering. "Look, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an idiot, but... I think I might have feelings for her."

Your heart skips a beat, but it’s not for the reasons Steve would expect. Feelings? For you? Steve—your dependable, kind, and funny friend—has feelings for you? It catches you off guard, but it doesn't set off the kind of reaction you’d imagine. Sure, you and Steve are close, have always been close, but the idea of him harboring deeper feelings had never crossed your mind. You’d always seen him as a friend, someone you could count on, someone who made you laugh and always had your back.

But now, here he is, standing in front of Eddie, spilling his heart, and you can’t quite process it the way he’d want you to. Instead of feeling flattered, it feels… strange. Unfamiliar. And your eyes instinctively dart toward Eddie.

Eddie’s smirk falters for a split second, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, but it’s fleeting. The smirk returns almost instantly, sharper now, more amused. "Feelings?" He drags out the word, toying with it like a cat with a mouse. His tone is casual, but you know Eddie well enough to sense the undertone beneath it—the subtle, dangerous edge. "Didn’t see that one coming, Harrington."

Steve laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, his unease apparent. "Yeah, I know it’s probably stupid, but she’s... different, you know? Not like other girls." His voice is a little too eager, a little too hopeful. "I just… I don’t know what to do about it."

You glance at Steve, feeling a pang of something—maybe guilt, maybe sympathy—but it’s not enough to stir anything deeper in you. You’ve always liked Steve, but not like this. Not in the way he seems to like you. For you, Steve has always been a friend, and nothing more. There’s no rush of excitement, no nervous flutter in your stomach when you’re around him. Just warmth. Comfort. Friendship.

But Eddie? Eddie’s the one who sets your pulse racing.

As Steve keeps talking, his words fade into background noise, overshadowed by Eddie's presence. He doesn’t even have to move, doesn’t have to look your way, but just knowing he’s sitting there, the quiet confidence in his posture, and gods that smirk, sends an unexpected thrill through you. It’s Eddie who makes your heart race, Eddie who fills the air with a tension so thick you can barely breathe.

You shift slightly, the heat of the moment pressing in on you, making you hyperaware of everything—the worn fabric of the laundromat seat beneath you, the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the way Eddie’s fingers drum lazily against the comic book in his hand, the secret weight of the moments you’ve shared with him when no one else was around. The late nights in his van, the stolen kisses, the way his hands move over you like he’s staking a claim. That’s where the fire is, the electric undercurrent that Steve can’t even begin to suspect.

Eddie leans forward slightly, and that smirk on his lips sharpens like a blade. "You sure she’s not already taken?"

Steve blinks, clearly confused. The question seems to knock him off balance. "What? No way. I’d know if she was seeing someone."

Eddie’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Are you sure about that?" He’s playing with Steve now, dangling the truth in front of him like bait.

Steve frowns, his confusion deepening. "Yeah, man. We hang out all the time. She would’ve told me if she was with someone."

Eddie lets out a low chuckle, the sound dark and knowing, sending a shiver down your spine. He shakes his head, leaning back in his chair with an almost mocking air of disbelief. "You think so, huh?" His voice drops lower, more dangerous now as if he’s daring Steve to figure it out. His eyes flick toward you for the briefest moment—just long enough to send another wave of heat crashing through you. "Maybe she’s got her hands full with someone else already."

Your breath catches, heart pounding, as you realize what Eddie’s doing. He’s no longer hiding it, no longer playing coy. He’s toying with Steve, pushing him closer and closer to the truth without ever saying it outright. And you’re caught in the middle, feeling the weight of the secret you’ve been keeping with Eddie pressing down on you like never before.

Steve stares at Eddie, his confusion giving way to suspicion. His eyes flick between you and Eddie, the pieces slowly starting to click together, but he’s still not quite there yet. "Wait... is she seeing someone?"

Eddie shrugs, his smirk never faltering, the look on his face one of pure triumph. He’s enjoying this far too much. "I’m just saying... maybe you don’t know everything that’s been going on with her."

Steve’s face goes pale as the realization begins to sink in. His gaze locks onto you, searching for something—confirmation, denial, anything—but you can’t bring yourself to move. He turns back to Eddie, his voice quieter now, more hesitant. "What are you trying to say?"

Eddie doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t need to. The truth hangs in the air, thick and suffocating, waiting for Steve to finally piece it together. Eddie’s smirk widens, and the tension in the laundromat becomes unbearable.

Your pulse pounds in your ears as Steve’s confusion shifts into understanding. You can feel the secret unraveling right in front of you, and there’s no stopping it now.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 6

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

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

5.1k words

A/N: How are we feeling in a post-"Flight of Icarus" world, y'all? I knew from the beginning that I'd want to add some of the lore in and let me tell you, I LOVE Ronnie Ecker. For those of you who did not read the book, or haven't had a chance to, Ronnie is Eddie's best friend who ended up with a full scholarship to NYU. They're siblings, your honor.

Also if anyone can show me on this map where the plot is going, I'd really appreciate it.

This late at night, the only sounds in the trailer park came from the occasional dog barking and the echoes of Eddie’s tapes blasting as he pulled up to Wayne’s trailer. His uncle was working tonight as usual, which would normally allow Eddie time to hog the tv before passing out for a few precious hours before he had to get up for school. 

Tonight however, his mind was buzzing with what had just happened less than an hour ago. He liked you, he wasn’t sure how much yet but he did. You were sharp and knew your stuff about metal. It helped that you were cute. Really cute. 

He liked seeing you in the passenger seat of his car, matching wits with his friends and ranting about Ozzy. He liked seeing you laughing and the way you watched him play. He really liked the way you had fiddled with the pick he’d thrown at you at the end of the set. 

Eddie had never done that before. He’d wanted to, but never had anyone’s attention like that before- no. That wasn’t true. There had been one other person who’d listened to him play like that, two years ago. 

Was he always gonna fold to the site of a pretty girl actually paying attention to his music? 

“Of course you are.” Ronnie’s voice echoed on the phone. “And I’m gonna laugh every time you do.” 

Eddie groaned, holding the receiver to his ear as his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge. He hadn’t planned on running to her with this, but he was nowhere near able to wind down. He hadn’t even expected Ronnie to pick up the phone this late at night with the time zone difference and the fact that it was a school night. He’d have to push his stash a bit harder to pay Wayne back for the long distance call. 

The past two years had been a slow crawl of building back trust up with Veronica Ecker. The two had gone almost a whole summer without talking before Eddie had basically groveled for forgiveness outside of Granny Ecker’s trailer before Ronnie left for New York. She had forgiven him enough to let him give her a ride to the airport. 

“Last time?” He’d asked. 

“Last time.” She’d repeated. 

“So why didn’t you shack up with her tonight?” Ronnie asked. “You got her into your van, and you dropped her off like a gentleman.” 

“I don’t know, I panicked.” Eddie sighed, bonking his head against the fridge a few times. “She was right there, and she was leaning in and all I saw was Paige leaning in-”

“You know not every girl who shares your taste in music is Paige, right?” Eddie could practically see Ronnie rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Any girl that shares my taste in music ends up fucking off to the opposite end of the country.” 

This made Ronnie laugh. “You’re an idiot. Paige fucked off back to her job and I fucked off to college.”

“Fucking off is fucking off.”

“Maybe you need to fuck off.”

“I tried, remember?” 

She remembered. Both of them remembered. 

“Look, stop being a dipshit.” Ronnie said after a moment of awkward silence. “You’re graduating this year, right?”

“Uhhh...”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m working on it. I just need those last stupid two classes and then I’m home free.” Eddie confirmed. 

“You can’t stay in high school forever.” Ronnie said. “And you’re gonna realize that there’s life outside of Hawkins. Have you even talked to Paige since then?”

He hadn’t, and they both knew it. Eddie gave up two months after she’d bailed him out of jail. Two months of dead air silence. He got the hint. 

“No.”

“Then stop worrying about one girl from over two years ago!” Eddie could feel the phantom pain of Ronnie punching him in the arm like she always used to. “Get laid and graduate, Munson. You earned it.”

Eddie snorted, sliding down the fridge to sit on the cool floor. “Is that the only advice you got for me, Ecker?”

“It’s the only advice you need. Did you pass that test last week?” Ronnie asked. 

“By the skin of my teeth.” Eddie sighed, leaning his head back against the fridge. 

“Your new girl graduated, maybe she can help you study.”

“She’s not my girl. She’s a girl that I’ve met a handful of times-”

“That’s turning your brain to mush.” 

“She doesn’t even know who I am, Ronnie.” He fiddled with the chord in his hand, watching the spiral wind and unwind around his fingers. It was already stretched out pretty bad, with a few spirals already tangled beyond repair like his old slinky from when he was a kid. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ronnie asked. “She doesn’t know you, that means she doesn’t feed into the bullshit of the rumor mill.” 

Ronnie had a point and he hated it, but that’s why he called her to begin with. Ronnie was the only person who could cut through his Munson bullshit and give it to him straight. He missed it. As much as he enjoyed the power he had to protect his little lost sheepies, they were all too intimidated to actually stand up to him and call him out the way that Ronnie would.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Eddie could hear her snort and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “So why the hell are you even awake right now? Up til 2 am on a school night, Ecker?”

“It’s barely past midnight, the time zone isn’t that off. I was studying for a test, but hearing you complain about your love life is a far more productive use of my time.” 

“You’re using me to slack off, aren’t you?” 

“If I have to look at my flashcards one more time tonight my eyes are gonna go square. How’s Granny doing?”

“She’s an empty nester and is determined to turn me into her replacement grandson until you visit again.” Eddie shook his head. “She threatened to give me a haircut the last time she dropped off a plate for Wayne.”

Ronnie had come back to visit a grand total of five times since she’d left, returning for holidays and summers to visit Granny Ecker and by extension Eddie. Each time she’d come back with stories of law school and how different New York is. 

It seemed impossible, everything that Ronnie had told him about going to college and about life outside their small town. She was playing Dungeons and Dragons still, having found a group that would play with her. According to her, being a rules lawyer for the game at a law school hit way different than it had their small Hellfire group in high school. No one even cared that they played outside of a few students who had better things to do than enact violence against a few nerds. 

Then again, in law school everyone was some sort of nerd. Eddie wondered if even a freak would be accepted there. Well, socially at least. He wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to be accepted into law school with his grades. Ronnie had invited him up to visit a few times, but there was never time or money to do it. 

The two continued talking for another hour, catching up until Ronnie was scolding him for staying up so late on a school night. 

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?” Eddie said. “It’s almost 4:20 am there.” 

“Ha. Ha. Again, ha.” Ronnie said. “Still not how timezones work. And my first class doesn’t start until noon.”

Right. In college you didn’t have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day. 

“Night, Ecker.”

“Night, Munson. Graduate and get laid.” 

“Does it matter the order?”

“Good night, Eddie.”

Talking to Ronnie had eased his nerves, but there was still something inside that wouldn’t let him lay down and go to sleep. It was late now, way later than he intended to stay up tonight. The night he played at the Hideout always had him up late, and his teacher already considered him more useless than usual on Wednesdays. It’s not like anyone would care if he slept in class, unless they were in a particularly foul mood. 

He made his way to a stack of books in his room rummaging through a pile or two until he found what he was looking for. Eddie’s copy of Lord of the RIngs was well loved at best, and completely trashed at worst. The cover of the paperback was nearly torn off, taped back together haphazardly over the years. Pages were dogeared, the spine was cracked, notes were scribbled in the margins, and his name was scribbled in messy cursive on the front page declaring that this book belonged to Eddie Munson and that he was in third grade.

Eddie stripped out of most of his clothes, tossing his jewelry on his nightstand, and hopped into bed. He turned on a small lamp and opened the book. He could probably recite the first chapter from memory if he tried, the words on the page a comfortable lullabye for his wound up mind. But tonight he flipped to a page near the end where his bookmark was. The flower made out of blue construction paper wasn’t nearly as old as the book, and only in better shape because it never left the safe pages of Tolkein’s writing. 

His eyes glanced at his arm again, your phone number a temporary tattoo on his skin until it washed off. Shit, it was going to wash off eventually. Eddie grabbed a pen from under his bed and added another scribble to the inside of the book before copying your number carefully onto the paper flower. At least this way he’d always know where it was. 

With that aside, Eddie didn’t make it through three pages of his book before he passed out with the light still on. 

Fall Semester, 1984

The PrinciPAL’s office was just as interesting and inviting as it always was, which is to say not at all. Eddie was slumped back on a chair, watching as Janice sorted through paperwork, pretending to look busy so that she could avoid any small talk with ‘that Munson boy’. He had been waiting for Higgin’s to show up for almost fifteen minutes now, because why shouldn’t he waste Eddie’s time at this point? The worst that was going to happen today is that they’d do their little song and dance, Eddie would plead his case that the flyers were absolutely serious and that Chris Morrison had every intent to run for student council, and that it was all of the club that had made the posters, Higgins would shake his head and not believe Eddie for a second (which to be fair, this would be the first time that Eddie would admit privately that it was his fault), they’d go back and forth until Eddie got some form of detention or Saturday school. 

Honestly, the worst part would be rescheduling Hellfire if he wound up in detention. 

Eddie had counted out 13 paper clips that Janice had used in her papershifting before the door to the front office opened up again. He looked up, expecting to see Higgins walk in, ignore him for another five minutes, before Janice would let Eddie go in. 

He didn’t expect to see you, pale and shaken, clutching a teacher’s note in your hand. Eddie watched as you handed the note over to Janice who read it, shook her head, and pointed at the chair next to himself. Your eyes never left the floor as you sat next to him, staring at the cheap carpet as if you could somehow burn a hole in it and disappear. 

Trouble was no stranger to Eddie, and Eddie was no stranger to trouble. In Hawkins the name ‘Munson’ might as well be in the thesaurus next to the word. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and it would be far from his last as long as Higgins stayed the princiPAL. He’d walk away with a lecture and a sigh and then it would be business as normal. 

The look on your face though, that was far from the mild annoyance he felt. You look downright traumatized at the idea of having been sent here. Eddie glanced up at Janice who deigned to make eye contact with him now. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, a disapproving look behind her purple frames as if this was somehow Eddie’s fault that you had ended up here as well. But then, as far as any of the faculty from the office was concerned, even him being enrolled at this school was a death sentence to the rest of the poor student body. Eddie was a disease that they would try to contain until they had the cure to remove him. 

The shaking of your knee made your chair (and his chair by proxy) rattle slightly. The quiet of the office and the mundane shuffling of Janice’s papers only added to the tension that was radiating off you. 

“Janice, is Higgin’s gonna be long?” Eddie finally asked, and your bouncing knee stopped for just a moment before going back to its nervous movement. 

“He’s in a very important meeting.” Came the reply over a stack of papers, still not looking at Eddie. 

He sighed again and looked over at you, trying to place where he knew your face. Your eyes were a bit red, and you looked like you were on the verge of crying. Shit, he needed to do something before he had to ask Janice for the tissue box. 

“First time?” Eddie asked, and when you didn’t respond he nudged your knee with his. 

You jumped slightly, head snapping up. It was a wonder you didn’t give yourself whiplash and it would have been almost funny to Eddie had you not looked like a deer in the headlights looking at him. 

“I... Huh?” your voice cracked slightly. 

“What are ya in for?” Eddie did his best to give you a smile which he was sure made him look more like a serial killer than a comfort. It was rare he wished that he had his dad’s smile, but in cases like this he’d make an exception. 

You looked at the paper in your hand and swallowed. “Uh... skipped.” 

“Skipped school or just class?” Eddie prompted, trying to get you to talk more. If you were talking, then you weren’t crying. That’s what he hoped at least. 

“Class.” He didn’t think you’d say anymore but you surprised him. “US History.” Eddie caught the way your eyes darted to Janice again as if to make sure she wasn’t listening in, but Janice had better things to do than to eavesdrop on two delinquents. “I wasn’t... I had a bad day. I'm having a bad day. I felt like I was going to explode and I went to the library.” 

Eddie nodded, wondering what had happened today that made you need to duck out. It wasn’t his business, and frankly Higgin’s was going to grill you enough as it was. 

“Rookie mistake.” He said instead. 

“Rookie...?” 

Eddie kept his voice low and leaned in closer to you as if telling you a secret. “If you’re gonna skip, you can’t go to the library. You might as well have walked into the teacher’s lounge and announced that you were cutting class.”

You let out a sharp breath that he swore counted for a laugh. “Thanks for the heads up, can you tell me that a few hours ago?”

There was color returning to your face now and Eddie kept going. His brown eyes scanned your face, trying to place where he knew you from. Hawkins was a small town, and there was nothing about you that screamed ‘I’m new!’. 

He liked your sarcasm though, and his ‘comforting’ grin shifted into a genuine smile. “If you’re gonna ditch, you need to go to the bathroom or go outside.” He said. “Especially for last period. Go hide outside in the woods and you can slip into the parking lot seamlessly without anyone noticing. By the end of the day the teachers are barely taking attendance anyway.”

“Have you been in the girls rooms here?” you asked, shaking your head. “I think I’d rather take my chances here than stay in there longer than I’d have to.” Eddie wasn’t sure if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious.

“Would you rather hide in the boys room?” he asked. “I swear it only smells like piss almost all of the time and you’d end up in the splash zone even if you were in a stall.”

That got a laugh out of you, a genuine one. Your shoulders were relaxing and you looked down at the paper again and took a deep breath that you exhaled with a sigh. 

“I’ve never been in trouble before.” you said, your hands starting to bend and fold the paper on your lap absently. “I’m not good at being in trouble.”

“Well, lucky for you I’m here.” Eddie nudged your knee again with his. “Being in trouble is kind of my job here at Hawkin’s High. I’m a professional, you know. If I wasn’t here taking up all of Principal Higgin’s time he might have to actually do his job.” 

That last part was louder, as he directed it to Janice who refused to take the bait and only reached for her lilac stapler instead. 

A small smack on his arm drew his attention back to you, you were smiling at him looking astonished. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!” you whispered at him. 

“We’re already in trouble.” Eddie reminded you, his smile never fading. “Look, you’ve never been in trouble before, right? You’re gonna be fine. Just give him a good sob story about being overwhelmed with school, or about a sick pet. If you can squeeze out some tears that’s even better. The worst that he’s gonna do is give you a slap on the wrist and maybe detention if he’s in a shit mood”

You take in his words, listening to him carefully and taking in every word he was saying as if this was life or death. Eddie admittedly, had purposefully slipped into his Dungeon Master voice. It was a skill that normally only worked on his little sheepies in his club, and that was after semesters of training his players to listen and pay attention to his words or else it would be life or death for their characters. 

Having someone else listen to him like that? It felt really good. 

Your mouth started to open to say something but then the office door opened again and Higgin’s stepped in, nodding to Janice and then looking at the two of you. There was an accusatory look in his eyes as he made eye contact with Eddie again, and it was clear what that look said. Leave her alone, don’t make things worse for her than they already are. 

“Munson.” Higgins said and it took everything in him to stay still and not flinch at his last name. He was used to the weight that came with his name, but he hadn’t wanted you to know who he was. Not after he just remembered where he knew you from, glancing down at the note that you had folded into a flower in a fit of nerves. 

“I heard you missed me, Sir.” Eddie forced his eyes to meet Higgin’s. “You really should just start saying hi in the hallways instead of inviting me to these little chats every week. You’re taking away valuable learning time from me, you know.” 

If the two of them had been alone, Higgins would have snapped back at Eddie about being a smartass. But you were there, and the color had drained from your face again, and there was a shine to your eyes that was threatening to spill over your waterline. Higgins looked at you and motioned for you to follow him into his office. 

Eddie wished that you would turn and look at him before disappearing into the PrincePAL’s office. He could imagine you turning to look at him for comfort, he’d give you a smile that would put you at ease and a thumbs up. You’d give him another smile and walk in feeling brave. 

Instead it was like you forgot he was there as your figure disappeared behind the heavy wood door that shut with a heavy click. 

Of course Higgins had you come in first, even though Eddie had already been sitting here since the beginning of the period when he’d been called in. 

He was tempted to go over to the door and press his ear up against it to listen in on what he was saying to you but even Janice would scold him for that. So there Eddie sat for another ten minutes as he waited for you to step out again. 

Higgin’s was the one to open the door and let you out of the office, as if he were some gentleman instead of Eddie’s own personal warden five days a week. You walked out and to Eddie’s surprise you gave him a nod and mouthed thank you as you slipped back out the door and into the hallway. 

Eddie’s eyes followed you until he couldn’t see you anymore and it took Higgin’s standing in front of him with folded arms and saying his full government name for Eddie to snap back to reality. 

“Munson. A word about your little flyers?”

“Well, I’d say a picture is worth a thousand words-”

“In my office.”

Eddie didn’t remember much else about that talk, only remembering the white paper flower that had been carelessly tossed into the trash next to Higgin’s desk. 

“He still hasn’t called you?” Steve asked as you, him, and Robin continued your closing routine. The day had been busy, with almost everyone in Hawkins coming to rent a movie for the weekend. Robin was stocking the candy while you wiped down the sticky counter where children had been touching all day. Who’s idea was it to leave out free suckers on the counter anyway?

Oh right, that was your idea because you loved Halloween. 

“Nope.” you said, your voice a little tense. It had been almost two weeks since that night at the Hideout. You hadn’t returned to the dive bar, hoping that Eddie would call you and make the next move. Each passing day you had stayed as close to the phone as possible when you were home and you’d checked your voicemail every day when you got home for any sign that he’d attempted to reach out. 

Nothing. 

You shouldn’t feel this rejected but you did. It was far too early to tell if you had any feelings beyond initial attraction to the guy, but... you’d felt something. An enjoyment of bantering with him and an ease that came as naturally as your friendship with Robin and Steve. 

Plus, you had to admit it, he was really fucking hot. Seeing him play guitar two weeks ago had haunted your dreams and slipped into a few of your fantasies when you were alone. 

You kept that part to yourself though, that was the last thing that Steve or Robin needed to hear. Besides, that was Steve’s job to go far too into detail about his sex life. Steve had tried ribbing you about going home with Eddie but you’d told him that you were a complete gentleman with him. 

That night had left you feeling electrified, almost high as you danced around your room as you got ready for bed. Even as his odd parting rattled around your brain, you couldn’t help but to feel excited at the idea of seeing him again. 

Then a few days went by. Then a week. And now two weeks later you hadn’t heard from him. The kids hadn’t stopped by either so you couldn’t hassle them about Eddie either. Even if they had, you weren’t sure if you could ask about him, you didn’t want to come across as desperate. 

“Did you ever figure out what he meant by ‘five times?’” Robin asked, opening up a squished package of Reese's Cups. “Like, didn’t you say you didn’t know him?”

You threw your hands up before tossing the paper towels you were using to clean in the trash can. 

“I have no idea.” you said. “Either I’m bad at math, he’s bad at math, or maybe we’re both stupid.”

“He did get held back a few times.” Steve muttered to himself. 

“There’s a chance that you two have met before though.” said Robin, “I mean think about it, you’re both weirdos who went to the same school. Shouldn’t you both have bumped into each other before?” 

“You’d think so, but my group kind of kept to ourselves.” you said with a sigh. “We were private weirdos. When I DID try and make other friends-”

“Yeah, yeah, Chris Morrison shot you down.” Steve said, waving his hand. 

“Oh, you heard that story?” you laughed. “I didn’t think I mentioned it to you before.”

Steve gave you a blank stare that only made you laugh more. “I swear you keep talking about that guy more than Eddie. Maybe I should track him down and set you up on a blind date with him instead.” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

“Hey, that could be fun!” Robin added. “We’ll dress you up super hot, set you up with Chris, and then you can turn him down instead!” 

“Excuse you, Robin. I am always super hot.” you declared, straightening out your unflattering Family Video vest. “Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

You hadn’t done laundry in a week, and your hair had seen better days. The green polyester vest was wrinkled and if Keith saw you looking sloppy he’d probably have words about it. Not big words or even intimidating words, but words nonetheless. It was night and day compared to how you’d looked at the Hideout and the arcade earlier in the month. But it wasn’t like you had anyone to impress while you were at work anyway. 

“Hey, nerdy chicks can be hot.” Steve said. “I mean, Nancy’s an academic nerd and I was crazy about her.” 

You hummed thoughtfully and turned to Robin. “How about we get married instead?” you asked. “You, me, a fuck ton of cats, and a tax break. What do you say?”

Robin laughed and shook her head. “You aren’t my type.” Her eyes darted nervously to Steve for a split second and you sighed dramatically. 

“Guess it’s just me and the cats I’ll eventually adopt.” you said. “Not even a tax break.” 

“You know, Keith thinks you’re cute-”

“I am going to pretend that you did not just say that, Harrington.” you said firmly. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh. Absolutely not.” 

“He’s not... that bad?” Robin said, but you could hear the pain in her voice through the laughter. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” 

“The lady is trying not to think actually.” you laugh. “We’re closed, I’m actually done thinking. I just wanna finish cleaning up and go home. What’s left?”

“Rewinding the returns,-”

“Ugh.”

“Cleaning up the kids movies,-”

“Ugh.”

“And cleaning the bathroom.”

“UGHHHHHH.” 

“Would you rather clean up the porn room?” asked Robin. 

“Yes actually, I would.” You said. “Whatever they think about doing in that room is what they do end up doing in the bathroom.”

“Gross.”

Steve sighed “Okay, I’ll be the hero and save you ladies from cleaning the bathroom. Robin, you fix the kids section, and you can rewind the tapes.”

“I thought I was in charge here.” You crossed your arms. 

“Okay, did you have a better way to divide and conquer?”

“...No.”

“Then let’s hurry up and-”

Ding!

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” you asked. 

“It was Steve’s job to-” Robin started. 

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was staring at the person who had just walked in. You turned around and your heart jumped in your chest and your stomach dropped. 

“Cursing in front of customers, Harrington?” Eddie said. “Now that’s not very professional of you.”

Robin’s eyes were darting so fast between you and Eddie that you were surprised she wasn’t giving herself vertigo. You tried to give her a pointed glare but your friend either didn’t get the hint or refused to. 

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. 

Eddie looked away from Steve and made eye contact with you. It had been two weeks since you’d seen him, and you glazed at his arm for a second, trying to see if the faded remains of your phone number were still stamped on his arm. Unfortunately for you he was wearing a heavy leather jacket and you had not yet developed x ray vision. Perhaps in another genre. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie asked and you, ignoring Steve who looked mildly offended. 

You stood there in shock for a second before Robin nudged you in the rib. 

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, snapping out of it. 

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Robin grabbed Steve and shook his shoulder. 

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, already reaching for your bag under the counter. 

“We can handle it!” Steve said. 

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You could trust Robin, and as long as Steve didn’t knock down any displays then it wouldn’t take them more than another ten minutes to finish up. You were so tempted to turn them down, make Eddie wait as you had waited for him for the past two weeks. 

But you were already stepping behind the counter towards Eddie and tossing the keys to lock up to Robin. Keith would murder you and write you up (in that order) if he knew what you were doing but looking up at the roundest pair of brown eyes you’d ever seen had you in the mood to make questionable choices. 

You shrugged off your vest and tossed it at Steve, in an attempt to make yourself look like you hadn’t spent the whole day dealing with unruly customers and screaming kids. Part of you almost wished that you had agreed to bathroom duty, if only to give you an excuse to look in a mirror and straighten yourself out. 

“Thanks, guys.” you gave them a quick nod, catching sight of Robin’s knowing smirk and Steve shaking his head before walking out the door that Eddie was holding open for you. 

The last thing you heard was the scrambling of the entrance to Family Video being locked. 

Part 7

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Please comment and reblog <3

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[forestmossling]

okay. oh my fucking god. oh god, okay.

this is INSANE. this is absolutely fucking crazy. what i’m about to recommend you is absolutely fucking mind-bogglingly pants-shittingly bonkers in its brilliance, so y’all better read closely.

it’s always the fics with the shortest, least descriptive summaries ever, the ones you absent-mindedly stashed in your “marked for later” and forgot about them, isn’t it?

anyway, this is a masterpiece. in every definition and understanding of the word. there are too many great points about what’s going on in this fic and why you absolutely have to read it, so forgive me if i’m gonna be pretty incomprehensible and incoherent rn, okay?

first of all, the way this fic just ties the whole of the st universe together, the way eddie munson doesn’t just spawn out of nowhere in the beginning of s4, but actually exists in hawkins all this time. the way he witnesses all the crazy going-ons in town from the sidelines, and still has his own opinions and thoughts on them, even if he didn’t actively take part in them. just, love to see it.

second of all, different “first” meeting. oh my god, but how i love thee. obviously it wasn’t really the first meeting here, but steve and eddie coming together before the original timeline is something i will never get enough of, and it was done brilliantly here. the way their first conscious interaction happens when steve comes to apologize for being a piece of shit, and the way the narrative, from eddie’s pov, never lets you downplay and just forget that steve was, in fact, a douchebag in high school, is also something i love to see. yes, he’s forgiven, but not because he wasn’t that bad in the first place, as a lot of fics love to make it out to be (which, i don’t blame them, that’s also fine), but because he actively works to become a better person. we see him, time and time again, actively holding himself back from sliding into the “king steve” persona, owning up to the shit he did and proving that he has changed, and it’s beautiful. and it’s also nice to see here, because eddie doesn’t even find out about all the upside down shenanigans in this fic, so for him, steve isn’t a better person now because he saw him in his heroic martyr era and was impressed. he’s better because he doesn’t just let these objectively heroic and admirable actions automatically absolve him of all his sins, but actively works to repair the damage he did before he committed them. which also happens in canon, i guess, but i really love how it was shown here.

third, eddie. characterization in general, but eddie’s in particular, because oh my fucking god. he’s absolutely insane in the most humane and captivating way possible. the way he has so much history that made him the way he is, the way we see this past overlap with the present and realize how it affects the decisions he makes, the interactions he has with other people. and the way his past was written in general, the way it flashes him out so deeply as a person is absolutely brilliant. and the way he sees the world around him, the way his perceptions of the moments we catch him in is so deep and full of volume, dimension. it’s like one second you’re with him, listening to the conversation he has with another person, and another - in a wave of sound and music he taps on his leg with his fingers, in the songs he hears reverberating through every feeling he has. and the author is so masterful with throwing you around from one plane of reality to another, the way eddie is in his brain, and it’s so much it’s almost overwhelming, but they catch you just on the edge in the last second and keep your brain from being torn apart from trying to comprehend the absolute insanity going on in eddie’s head.

it really felt like this fic was repeatedly slapping me across the face and all i could do was deliriously ask for more.

and, while we’re on the topic of characterization, literally every character and every interaction between them are so real and so fitting for who they are in this universe. the way even through eddie’s warped perspective of him, steve’s actions and views fall into a perfectly functioning justified mechanism for the reader, not a screw out of place. the way through simple, and, on the surface, absolutely mundane conversations about the horror and romance genres, about the characters in the book eddie’s writing (he is, btw, and it’s also brilliant), we see the whole of who these characters are, how they see the world and themselves in it, their deepest fears and desires. and even aside from steddie, a personal stand-out for me was jeff, because he has a whole life outside of eddie’s narrative, and still manages to contribute to the plot and give insights into eddie and himself while not being a cardboard cut-out, only existing for the benefit of pushing eddie’s story forward. and the rest of hellfire - past and present - while mostly serving the purpose of showing how precious steve’s attention and care for things they didn’t get about eddie is, are still their own people.

whatever the next number is, i’m losing count, - the language the fic is written in. it’s just so fucking clever. the dialogues are witty and captivating without stinking of made-up-ness, the metaphors are so deep and colorful and voluminous without being pretentious and over the top. the words of this fic are something you have to chew on before you swallow, let the author immerse you in the picture they’re painting without breezing from one predictable trope point to another (which, they aren’t really predictable and expected here, which is another huge pro) in the everlasting greed for cheap escapism, as i am prone to doing. and that’s another thing i’m really grateful to this author for - making me sit with the words i’m reading for a second, instead of just gorging on them in my haste to get to the end and start another story, frantic to keep my brain occupied.

also, this fic genuinely had me endlessly invested in the fate of the characters, scared shitless or elated for them. it yanked me right out of the usual safety of predictable plot tropes which usually makes fanfiction so attractive for me, but i really wasn’t complaining. on one of the most stressful and deciding scenes of the fic (no spoilers tho), i genuinely started crying. i felt eddie’s resignation and anguish so deeply and personally, i couldn’t hold back if i wanted to. and that’s another thing i’m extremely grateful for - the absolute rollercoaster of emotions i went through before i got the reward of the happy ending.

i would also like to say that i was floored with how period-typical homophobia and other social issues were presented in this work. obviously, i can’t really vouch for it being realistic or not, because i’m not american and wasn’t even alive during that time, but i can say that it did feel very very real. in a lot of other works that talk about these issues the homophobia and societal judgement seem like such nebulous, far-away concepts, that are obviously real and have a tangible impact on the characters, but it’s like their still escapable, still out of reach (which, again, is not a bad thing). but here i felt like the repercussions for being who you are were physically breathing down my neck, incapacitating me with horror. and, on that note, just, the author’s overall attention to detail and period-fitting pop-culture and other little things that painted such a larger picture of living in that time period, tying the fictional story so tightly down to it. it felt so grounded in reality, that i felt like a person could tell me their older relative had gone through this in the eighties and i would believe them. but, as i said, i’m obviously not an authority on that topic for aforementioned reasons.

and also, aside from the reader’s perspective on the work, as a person who tries to write myself, i realize that this is the level of writing skill i’m aspiring towards. this is what i want my works to feel like to a reader, and i’m really not there yet, but seeing works like these inspires me so much to grow.

also, i would’ve absolutely loved to see a little bit more of robin there, to find out how this change in the canon narrative would affect the events of the s4, to see how steddie’s relationship would develop and transform with the upside down thrown into the mix. and that’s definitely not a slight against the fic for not including this things, but more of a testament to how greatly invested the author made me in their version of the story and how hard it is for me to let go of it. this fic is perfectly complete without those things, but, once i got a taste, i couldn’t help but want more and more, even though this story definitely isn’t in any way lacking or in need of those to feel whole. but that’s mostly my selfish desires speaking, don’t mind me.

and, here, have a couple of snippets with no particular reasoning behind them, just because they made me giggle:

i’m getting real rambly and i’m genuinely afraid this whole post is absolutely unreadable with how frantic and jittery i am in trying to get this off my chest, but when i’m telling you i was buzzing with this word-vomit, almost frothing at the mouth with the need to express the absolute glorious hellscape this fic left me in after i finished it, i’m probably underselling it.

so, in conclusion, please read this fic. please please please read this fic. if not for my sake or the @fabelds-blog’s (who got criminally little recognition for this masterpiece), then for your own, because i can guarantee you that not one second of reading this work will feel like a waste of time or a disappointment. *me, pointing a gun at you with shaking hands while tears stream down my face* please, PLEASE read this fic, because it’s absolutely worth it.

so, yeah. i don’t think a number large enough to rate this work even exists, but my closest approximation is 999999836526272910018172654244536384847635526728190199986553781010018654463892010197654272458499900909261379/10, am recommending. and, obviously, it’s up to you if you’re going to actually read the fic, but if after this madman’s rant you still opted not to, i regret to inform you that that is, in fact, the wrong choice, and i’m strongly urging you to reconsider.

[luveline]

radio cure | steve harrington

an unhappy you meets steve harrington and his merry band of dorks. he shows you that some things are worth sticking around for.

5k words, fem!reader she/her used, tw mentioned/implied suicidal ideation please don’t read if that’s going to have a negative impact on you (no graphic imagery. but reader is passively suicidal and dealing with the other factors of that), robin steve + eddie chaotic trio, friends to lovers, multipart, swearing, friendly teasing, sarcasm, artist!steve, 90s au

.•° ✿ °•.

You're twenty two when you decide to kill yourself.

It's a warm day. The sun shines like a flower bud unfurling, a faint hint of golden yellow masked by cloud cover. You're savouring the brief moment of blessed cool as you walk around Lover's Lake, your ipod in one hand, headphones around your neck.

The flowing pants you're wearing help mitigate the heat around your legs, an itching, slick thing. Warmth feels like oil on your skin. You tip your head back and smell the grass, the lake water, the dry mud under your feet. You're thinking it's as nice a day as you're going to get this week, and you're forlorn, because it doesn't make one drop of difference.

You look up at the blue sky, squinting against the light, and you think it to yourself resolutely. This is going to be my last year. When your savings run out you're giving up.

It doesn't feel conclusive. It doesn't feel scary. It's just a decision.

You walk over dry grass until you reach the short pier on the leftmost side of the lake and sit down. You pull your headphones over your ears and bite your lip when the music isn't loud enough. The dock is rough. You're uncomfortable immediately. You want to go home, but you pull out your little craft sketchbook made of yellow paper and a pencil you've sharpened with a pen knife, staring out across the lake for something to strike you. A duck. A goose. Anything at all.

The thing is, you don't want to draw. You aren't some master, though you try, and you aren't a natural talent… You try sometimes. Nothing seems right. Most people have a style, charm, but you could draw a picture perfect copy of the day in front of you and still feel the lack; you have no idea what it is that makes other people's art beautiful, and that's the problem.

It doesn't matter. You put the sketchbook away. You have nobody to impress but yourself, and besides — you're not the first person in the world to feel uninspired. Thousands of people must feel it everyday, and they aren't throwing any pity parties. You peel off your cardigan, ball it up, and lay down with the fabric behind your head. You can hear the soft pant of a dog across the way, the happy chattering of a Frisbee game. Under the dock, little bodies thwack the planks, tiny green frogs that occasionally hop in the grass nearby.

You press your arm against your stomach and you fall asleep not long after that, your ipod playing music a few feet away.

—

Steve Harrington doesn't know why he stops to look at you. You're just a girl enjoying the summer sun, and he doesn't mean to be a creep. But you've left your stuff laying in small hills around you and your body's lax. You're asleep.

He kneels down next to you. Enough room to swing away if you try to stab him for perving. He isn't perving, he reasons. He wants to check if you're okay.

He tilts his ear toward you and holds his breath.

You're snoring.

Good, he thinks, crawling back to the far side of the dock, at least two feet between you. You're sleeping.

He sits down, knees up, hands between his thighs, and looks out across the lake. The sun shines high as the clouds shift to reveal it in full force, a burning yolk. It kisses every bit of green foliage it can find, dappled sunlight everywhere he looks. Steve is out today to draw whatever beauty he can find, and the light across the water riding the rippled waves of ducklings and brave human swimmers seems nice enough. He peers out of the corner of his eye at you, deems you still sleeping, and takes the pocket sized sketchbook out of his denim jeans.

His pencil is a stub folded between the pages. He lays down graphite in big sweeping lines, more focused on the impressions of shape than the specifics. It's hard to see a coloured world in black and white values. Steve isn't great — he's been drawing for two years now, and that feels like both a lifetime and a flicker. Every day he learns something new about making art, and every day he looks back and feels embarrassed at what he made before. The start of his sketchbooks make him cringe. This one is a mixture of pride and tepid reluctance.

Being bad at something is a stepping stone at getting better. Not every drawing he makes is good, but hopefully it's teaching his brain to be better. He doesn't know what he believes about art but he likes to draw, and he has gotten better.

The point isn't in being good, he'd told Robin. I just need something to do. Before I go crazy doing nothing. 

He draws the lake. He loves the way it comes into being. Ten minutes can turn grey splotches into trees, and bluegrass, and the heat rising off of the water. He draws a duck when it swims really close, though he has to abandon it when it swims away, leaving a half formed lovecraftian creature to haunt the page. He draws the dock, and his shoes, and your shoes, and your hand curled weakly next to your ipod. He draws your wrist, though he stops quickly.

He looks at your sleeping face.

Steve thinks you don't look like anyone he's ever seen before. He notes your lashes, your brows, and your nose. The sun emphasises the fine hairs across your cheek, and the texture beneath them.

He wants to draw your face, but he thinks drawing your hand and your shoes might have been too much without permission. He lets you sleep for a while, and then when he realises the heat is making him dizzy, he can't leave you there to bake.

He rips a sheet of paper out of his sketchbook and shoves the small book back into his pocket. The dock groans as he stands, and he casts a shadow over your face and upper torso.

"Hey," he says.

You flinch awake.

"Don't panic," he says, which is something a pervert might say, so he amends, "don't freak out, I'm just worried you're gonna cook your brains. I didn't want you to get sick."

You sit up. You look kinda cooked already, blinking and disoriented.

"You okay?"

You don't look up. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you for waking me up."

"Yeah, sure. Here."

He holds out the drawing of your hand. He doesn't think it's good, doesn't want you to see it, but he already did it. Giving it to you will ease his guilty conscience.

It's unlike Steve to bail, but he bails. Your fingers are barely brushing the paper when he's wiping his palms on his thighs and stepping away.

"Bye," he says, uncertain. "Try not to fall asleep again!"

—

It's not so weird. Sure, he'd made your fingers skinnier than they really are, and he made your shoelaces look like spaghetti, but they're good drawings.

You're trying to read a book in the corner of Benny's when he finds you a second time. He hovers, and you're not cool, you aren't, you're working with what you've got. Not many people skills.

“Hi,” he says.

"They were good drawings," you say, in lieu of your own hello, thumbing at the pages of your book all full of jumpy nerves.

"Thank you, I'm… new to it. My best friend, she's– she's actually nicer than she should be about them, I can't lie. I was going to say she thinks I should be banned from picking up a pencil, because I wanted to make you laugh, but. She's nice when it matters."

You can't keep looking down, it wouldn't be polite. You dog ear your paperback and let it lie against the tabletop, greasy to touch but you doubt it'll make a difference. The book is old and had cost you 50 cents at Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's yard sale.

He's tall. Hair falls around his face and curls gently against his cheeks, a sandy brown. He's wearing a hat. He hadn't been wearing one the day he'd given you his drawings, but you can understand why he needs it. The sun is an inescapable force: sun stroke has half the town down for the count. The whole reason that you're in Benny's is because it's air-conditioned and shady.

"Do you want to come and eat with me and my friends?"

You say no automatically. "No, that's okay. I don't wanna," —you don't know what to say, so your voice hikes up awkwardly— "impose."

"You don't have to, but if you want to, you're not imposing." He twists at the waist and nods to a booth across the room, where a boy and girl sit. When they see you seeing them they look away. "Sorry, they're dorks. There's usually more of us, but Jon's in work and Nancy's in Emerson, so…" He seizes up.

You wonder why people are so afraid of being awkward. It terrifies you, to think one day you'll fuck up and be awkward and the other person will remember it and laugh, but looking at him now, you can't see why it matters. It actually makes you feel better, knowing he's worried too.

"I only brought enough for the milkshake," you say.

"I'll get you something."

"That's– no, that's okay."

He hesitates. "You'd be doing me a favour. I love them, really, but I can't stand it when they're together, they bully me."

It would probably be worse to reject his offer and sit here lonely while they laugh and talk. You'll worry they're talking about you.

"Okay," you mumble, picking up your book and your milkshake.

He grins at you and you follow him through the diner. It's not busy today, but there's still feet to fall over and backpack straps to tread on, so you watch the floor.

"My name is Steve, by the way."

You tell him your own name, which brings another quick smile to his face. He slows as he approaches the booth of his friends and beckons for you to slide into the empty side before following you in.

"Guys, this is– Eddie, what the fuck is that? We said no gross shit at the table."

"This, my friend," Eddie says, words rolling around his mouth grandly, "is a monster."

It's a little man made of coffee stirrers, sporks, and chewing gum seams. It's kind of gross, but it's cute. Grossly cute and cutely gross.

"We're about to eat."

"You're stepping on his artistic licence," says the girl, her voice distinctly pretty and a tiny bit hoarse.

"Disgusting," Steve says.

You shift on the leather chair underneath you and anxiety pulses in the bottom of your stomach. They're ignoring you, but not really. Both have lifted their eyes to look at you, and, in sync, they smile. The girl's smile is startling, lip gloss lips and white teeth. Eddie's is softer, less happy and more reassuring.

"I'm Eddie," Eddie says, though you'd figured it out. "That's Robin. Do you think my monster is gross in the gross way or gross in the sick way?"

"He's cute," you admit to thinking. "But the gum…"

"I didn't have any glue."

"Steve told us about his drawings. If he's holding you hostage right now, blink three times, okay?" Robin jokes.

Eddie and Robin lean their shoulders together and start a bit where they count your blinks. There's murmurings about shelters and how they can definitely throat punch Steve hard enough to make him mute. You're stunned at being the object of a joke and don't know how to react, feeling like you've been whacked and now there's cartoon birds flying around your head and they can all see them.

Steve grabs the menus out of the rack and slaps one down in front of everybody. "Alright, team. You know the drill. Last person to choose what they want has to buy drinks." He spares you a glance. "Except you. She's on me because hostages don't pay for themselves."

"I would make such a pretty hostage," Eddie says.

He is pretty, in fairness. Dark curls thick with baby hairs frizzed up in the summer heat frame a pale face. He has big brown eyes.

“And talented,” Robin adds, poking the gum man until he falls flat on his face. The head pops off and Eddie shrieks, not loudly but with a passionate upset about him that makes you laugh.

Steve leans over. “Please choose quickly so I don’t have to pay for Robin's lemonade addiction. No pressure.”

“I’ll just have what you have.”

“With a coke?”

“Sure.”

“Robin?” he asks.

“I want a cheeseburger with a lemonade and then, if you will, another lemonade.”

She dumps her menu in Eddie’s lap, who looks up from his decapitated figure with a look of defeat.

“Wh- hey, she cheated. She hurt my dude.”

“Rules are rules.”

Eddie sulks and accepts everybody’s money. He slinks up to the window like an annoyed cat. After he’s placed the order, he looks back to the table and flips the bird covertly.

“So, how old are you?” Robin asks.

“Twenty two.”

“How’s that?” she asks sympathetically.

“Robin.” Steve chides. “She’s twenty so she thinks she’s a baby.”

“I am a baby. This is my first year not being a teen, which means it’s my first year as an adult. I’m one.”

“We have this argument a lot,” Steve says, though not with any bravado. Simple explanation, his voice soft and warm. “When being an adult actually begins. It’s not the adult part that even matters, it’s the not having rules that fucks people up. Look at Eddie. He’s been out of school for a year and he’s been arrested three times.”

You frown, not because his getting arrested would bother you (depending on the charge), but because you’re surprised, and surprise is quick to appear as anger on your face. His shirt and rockstar rings, his nice smile, his gum man — you’d assumed he was a huge nerd. His arrests are a surprise.

“What for?” you ask, before you can remind yourself that invasive questions are rude.

“Once for indecent exposure– completely accidental. Once for trespassing, and the last time was because he chained himself to a tree outside of Tawny’s bar. They weren’t cutting the tree down,” Steve says. “He, and I quote, wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“Don’t give away my RAP sheet when I’m not here,” Eddie says, placing a tray of drinks on the table carefully. Three cokes and two lemonades.

“It’s not a RAP sheet if you don’t actually get in trouble. They let him off ‘cause they know his uncle. And also ‘cause it’s Hawkins.” Robin slides her slice of lemon between her teeth, shepherding her two lemonades as far away from everybody as she can, looking extremely hedgy. “I’s a bitch sheet.”

Eddie feigns for her second lemon slice and snickers when Robin defends it, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

“I paid for it!” he says through laughs.

Your hands start to shake. You hide them under the lip of the table but it’s no use. Soon your legs are shaking, your arms, all of you. They’re minute tremors, both invisible and impossible to ignore. You glue a smile to your face and try to calm down. You’re overwhelmed and you don’t know why — this isn’t a new feeling. You are not the first person to feel this feeling.

Then why does it feel like it?

Sometimes, everything gets so scary so quickly, and you sit there wondering why it isn’t scary for everybody else, and you wonder why they can’t see it on your face how scared you are, and they must see it? They must know you’re fucked.

You’re shot with thoughts. These people, you could be friends. All you have to do is make a good impression. But how should you go about that? How do you talk? What do you say?

“I draw too,” you say, hands clamped between your knees.

Steve’s eyebrows do this little dance. It’s adorable, and it makes you want to be his friend most of all.

“You do?”

“I do. I’m not good, I mean. I used to be better. I’m out of practice.”

“I draw,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Jonathan, too. God, you should see his shit. And he’s an even better photographer. But I draw shitty zine comics. And Robin does the typesetting for me.”

“Oh, wow,” you say genuinely.

“Nancy writes,” Robin says. “So we’re, like, a jerk circle of artists. She’s good, too.”

“She’s good,” Eddie imitates fondly. “I bet she is. Robin’s gonna be a great writer as well, once she gets all these private Nancy lessons.”

Steve puts a hand up and Eddie promptly shuts up. He takes a big, sheepish slurp of coke and you feel like you’ve said something wrong though you barely said anything at all, sipping at your own coke.

“What are you reading?” Robin asks.

You slide the book toward her so she can see for herself. “The Sea, The Sea,” you tell her. “It’s about, uh,” —you’ve only managed to read the first thirty pages, and that’s after reading the first ten five times straight— “this guy named Charles, he’s unique. He’s uh, annoying.”

“You know, Nancy used to have a book that looked just like that,” Steve says.

You laugh weakly. “It must be popular. I got it at a yard sale.”

“Can I open it?” Robin asks.

“Of course. It’s already pretty beat up, I don’t think there’s anything you could do—“

Robin opens the book with one hand, thumb and pinky fingertip pressed to either side, and tries to take a sip of her drink without looking, tipping her glass of lemonade straight into the pages of The Sea, The Sea. What doesn’t get soaked up by your book rushes down the length of the table and into her lap.

Steve reaches across the table to grab up the glass, but the damage is already done. Your lips part. Eddie gawps, throwing a hand over his slack-jawed face.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says, looking at you with wide eyes. “I have the worst case of butterfingers ever, I’m sorry.”

It’s as if she can’t believe she did it. You fluster when you realise they’re all waiting for your reaction.

“It’s okay!” you say, as loud as you’ve ever spoken in public.

“You can be mad,” Steve assures you.

“No, it was an accident. I’m not mad, it cost fifty cents, and it was totally garbage anyway. I’m really not mad.”

Eddie stuffs napkins under the table and Robin shivers uncontrollably, dishing ice cubes from her lap and the seat. Steve, laughing now, says, “God dammit, Robs,” sounding like she might be the most golden person on the planet.

—

Steve works his hat over your hair the best that he can. “There. Now you won’t die from heat stroke.”

You bring both hands to the hat to encourage it down onto your head. “Steve,” you say, sounding unsure on how to continue.

“It’s on loan.”

You nod and look out over the lake, where Eddie stands at the edge of the dock. "It's getting way too fucking cold for this," he complains, in swim shorts and a shirt, gazing in distrust at the lake’s shimmering surface.

Lake is kind. It is technically a lake, but also technically a really, very pathetic lake that feeds from a pathetic tributary. If you stationed Steve on one side and you the other, he would strain to hear you talking. Likely infected with brain eating amoeba or tadpoles or leeches. Slimy things. It’s less disgusting than Lover’s Lake, a condom cesspit, so that’s a plus.

You aren’t looking any more eager about jumping in than you had been, thighs naked and kissed by the hem of an oversized, black t-shirt. It’s wrinkled. Steve kind of loves it.

"Just jump in, you big babies," Robin says.

She'd already jumped in, screamed at the cold, and now languishes in the chest height water in front of the small fishing dock with a smug smile on her face. "Not you," she says to you. Steve rolls his eyes.

You shake your head, hair slipping out of the hat. You sigh as you pull it off and readjust the sizing band.

"I guess I am being a baby,” you say to him quietly. “The sun’s been out all day, how cold can it be?” You’re not feeling confident. It seeps into your voice, to which Steve lends a placating smile.

"Really fucking cold."

"Eddie, shut up. Y/N, it's fine. You'll like it."

“I really don’t think she’ll like it.”

Steve doesn’t either, but he wants you to feel included, and less tense. Distract you from whatever it is that’s giving you such a big case of the frownies, and prove he and his friends aren’t just book-ruining hooligans.

Eddie finally jumps in over Robin’s head, disappearing into the not quite blue water with a cut-off curse. He appears again a few seconds later, black hair slicked to his face, neck and shoulders, wiping the water from his eyes as he splutters and giggles boyishly.

“Shit, Stevie,” he says. “Not that cold after all.”

“You don’t have to jump in, you can just ease off the dock, if that’s better,” Steve says.

“Frogspawn,” you murmur.

Steve does a bunch of flexing, throws in a jumping jack for good measure. “Alright,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s go.”

You shake your head gently.

Steve doesn’t wanna embarrass you further, or insist when you really don’t want to, so he nods and smiles and takes a running jump into the lake. Robin and Eddie both swear and dart away as his body collides with the surface of the water, and he sinks like a well-practised stone to near enough the lake bed, feet gracing slippery pond weed and things he’d rather not think about. The air shatters out of his lungs and the water, despite the summer sun, is cold. It feels amazing — he hadn’t realised how warm he was until the temperature abruptly shifted.

He rushes back up to the surface and shakes his hair out like a dog, water running down his face and shoulders in fast thick rivulets. He peels his eyes open and turns to find you still hesitating on the dock. Robin splashes at Steve in retaliation for his hair splatters and Eddie laughs evilly as he joins in.

“Come on!” he begs you. “I told you, they bully me! I need back up!”

You toss his hat on the dock. The jump you take into the lake is timid but enough to miss the frogspawn and not break your legs, a cold splash of water and you’re there. Luckily, your presence has Robin and Eddie both stopping in their cruel tracks, and you don’t have to save Steve after all.

Your happy laughter is stunning.

"It's so cold!" you squeal, water in your eyelashes.

Eddie takes one of your hands and together the four of your tread into deeper water.

"Now that all who can be present are present," he says, falling into his dungeon master drawl, "it's time we commence the The Tournament. Swimmers, take your stations."

Everyone falls into line. You don't know what you're falling into line for, raising your timid voice to ask, "What's the game?"

"The game is me and you dunk the ever-loving out of dumb and dumber," he says.

"Hey, what?" Robin asks. "How come you get her? She's a total wild card, she might win the game all by herself."

"Or she might really suck. We don't know, and so in the interest of fairness, I propose she swims with me." Eddie's wet sleeve sticks to your skin as he nudges you. "But you don't suck, do you?"

"Um…"

"Attagirl. On your marks, get set, go!"

You spend an hour like that. Steve and Co, they're stupid, but they aren't stupid stupid. The Tournament is a series of chasing and dunking (stupid but fun) wherein you get to throw yourself on the shoulders of the person you're chasing and submerge them (stupid again). You can't hold them down, though, they aren't trying to drown one another. Much.

The sun regretfully starts to set. If it's anything like the last few days, that means it's likely near 10PM, and they're all working tomorrow.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Steve asks in concern, after he's heaved himself up onto one of the huge stones on the opposite side of the lake.

Cattails obscure you from view on your own stone. Across the lake, your possessions lay thankfully unscathed on the dock. Robin sits as close as she can to Steve on his rock, kicking water at Eddie every time he tries to approach.

"You fucking rat," he fumes, mouth full of lake water.

"I'm not really working right now,” you say.

"Do you need a job?" Eddie asks. "They're hiring— Harrington, restrain your creature! They're hiring at the Palace Arcade, aren't they?"

Steve nods voraciously. "Yeah! Hey, we can get you an interview no problem, they probably won't even ask you that many questions. I mean, Keith worked there."

"Don't be mean about Keith," Robin says, though she doesn't really like him. He thinks it's akin to defending your deadbeat older brother.

"I don't know, I think even a couple of questions might be too many," you worry.

"How come?"

You pull the fluff off of a cat tail, and it explodes in your hands. Steve yanks one down to do the same, watching the fibres float across the lake's disturbed surface with a cool breeze. Robin shivers beside him, sensitive to the cold in her wet clothes, the adrenaline of swimming and almost but not really dying wearing off.

"I'm bad at stuff like that."

"I don't think anyone's good at interviews at our age," Eddie says, nose wrinkled as cat tail floats toward him. "We're, like, babies."

"I always feel like I'm really old," you confess. You look down at your naked knees. "Like I wasted all the good years already."

"What, school?"

"And the four years since," you say.

Steve gets it, in a way. His high school years sucked, and he'd maybe thought he'd get out of Hawkins on a track or swim scholarship, basketball — anything. But he's here still, and at first that hadn't been what he wanted. Sure, he'd expected it, but in different ways.

Steve pushes back the cattails to see you clearly. "I didn't even get any real good years until just now," he says, as kindly as he can.

"I failed senior year twice," Eddie speaks up, "I kinda thought I was wasting my life too, but if I didn't, I wouldn't even know Robin, and she's, like, my best friend."

He throws his hands over his face before Steve can kick a huge wave of lake water into his eyes. "Get your own," Steve fumes. He's not really mad.

"Yeah, these are the good years," Robin says, "probably. I never had guys fighting over me in high school." She laughs and tucks her wet hair behind her ears, her freckled cheeks pale in the oranging light of the sunset.

You hold your hands out for Eddie and he finally climbs onto one of the rocks. From this side of the lake, you can watch the sun set behind the silhouettes of Hawkins town a half mile away. It dips slowly down, meandering almost, a pearl sinking through layers of raspberry pink and orange and, as Steve holds his breath, that sudden flash of electric green.

"I'm blind," Eddie mumbles, falling back into the rocks and grass.

"Shit, that was cool." Robin stands up and stretches. "I'm so cold I'm gonna die right here. Steve, do you still have a blanket in your car?"

Steve looks over at you again. You look shell-shocked, not quite awed. He doesn't know what emotion you're feeling, only that you're feeling it, eyes wide and set across the lake at the darkened sky, lights from the buildings like stars shimmering in your pupils.

He stands up and offers his hand to you. When you take it, he pulls you up without hesitation, not a flicker of doubt or an ounce of struggle.

"I'll get you that interview," he says, questioning, soft. If you want it. 

Your fingers linger in his palm.

"Yeah, okay. Thank you."

"Come on!" Robin says, taking your other hand and tugging without apology, barefoot over the asphalt path surrounding the lake. "Before the gnats come out."

"We might see fireflies if we stick around," Eddie says.

They bicker. Steve lets go of your hand and you and Robin walk just ahead, your head bobbing between his two arguing friends like you're watching a quickfire tennis match.

You turn to the side and hide a smile. Steve sees it, and he figures it's a start.

"Munson," he hollers, "how about you stay and watch the fireflies and you tell us all about it? Me and the girls aren't gonna freeze out here so you can get back in touch with nature."

It's a bad joke, but it works. "Fuck you, Harrington. The ladies wanna see the lightning bugs, don't you?"

"I can't remember the last time I saw them," you say.

"Then we have to stay," Eddie says smugly.

You all crowd the back of Steve's car, the heaters on but not doing a lot, the blanket stretched over Robin's shoulders. She tucks it behind your back, and you all look out to the night and scout for bugs.

"There," you whisper, pointing.

Green dots of light rise from the dry grass like tiny lanterns, a handful at a time.

"Jonathan's gonna be sad he missed this," Robin murmurs.

You try to count them all. Four voices whispering bets into the night air, though the real number isn't possible to calculate. "Winner gets a new paperback on Robin," Eddie jokes, swiftly quietened by a barrage of elbows to his side.

They let you win.

[withacapitalp]

On the first day of school, Eddie had stood on their table in the cafeteria and declared that this was going to be his year. 

Well, ‘86 was going to be his year. Technically it was still ‘85 for three more months, but semantics semantics.  The rest of the club was confused, not exactly sure why he felt like this year was going to be different to the years of torture and mayhem that had proceeded it, but they appreciated Eddie’s insane amounts of optimism. 

Then two weeks later, Eddie spotted a group of lost little freshmen sheep. The one wearing a Weird Al t-shirt introduced himself as Dustin Henderson when Eddie came over to offer them refuge amongst the freaks of the school, and there was no doubt in the world that Eddie had been right. 

‘86 was going to be his year. 

Because it wasn’t like Dustin was a super rare name, but Eddie had never met a Dustin in Hawkins before that day. Meeting Dustin Henderson wasn’t just a fantastic coincidence, it was fate in action. 

Because Dustin Henderson was going to be the reason Eddie met his soulmate. 

Eddie had never shown anyone but Wayne his words. They had always been something sacred, special, no one else needed to know. There were people who showed everyone in the world, always looking for the person that might be the one to complete them, the one who would have words that matched their own. Eddie wasn’t one of those people. 

Even Gareth didn’t know.  

But, every night before bed, Eddie would carefully unwrap the bandage he always kept wound around his upper arm, looking down at the words and carefully tracing them with a single fingertip. 

Yeah. On Dust-Dustin’s mother. 

Dustin’s mother. They were so distinctive, so unique. It wasn’t the thing everyone dreaded- ‘How are you?’, ‘How can I help you?’, or even the worst, ‘Hi’. Eddie’s words were special, and that meant his soulmate was special too. 

Eddie had no idea what to expect from that first conversation, but he knew it was going to be wild. Probably some long winded crazy debate with laughter and sharp quips, and finally those words pushed out between giggles, which was the reason they would be shuttered. 

What Eddie never would have expected was to hear those words come out of Steve’s Harrington’s mouth. 

He never even thought that the words might be stuttered in fear, not laughter. Fear because of Eddie. Fear because of the broken bottle being held against his neck by his own damn soulmate.

Except no. No it couldn’t be him. Steve Harrington was not his soulmate. Steve Harrington was a jock douchebag, the kind of person Eddie had spent his entire life campaigning against. Steve Harrington was the epitome of everything Eddie wasn’t, and there was no way the universe or fate or god meant for them to be together. 

There had to be someone else in the room, someone he hadn’t seen who was going to appear out of the darkness and repeat exactly what Steve said.  

“Did you just say the words Dustin’s fucking mother to me?” Eddie growled out, desperate to be wrong, watching as Steve’s face grew impossibly whiter. There was a sharp burn on his upper arm, and he shakily dropped the bottle, hearing it shatter on the ground between the two of them. 

No doubt about it. Steve Harrington was his fucking soulmate. 

“Oh my god,” Robin Buckley said faintly from the background, but Eddie didn’t turn to face her. He couldn’t turn away from Steve, who was staring at him with the widest, most beautiful set of brown eyes Eddie had ever seen. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Steve offered, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

Eddie stumbled backward, the back of his thighs hitting up against the boat he had been hiding in. He roughly jerked at the right sleeve of his shirt, pulling it upward until the deep black words were visible, standing out against his pale skin. 

Steve fell back against the side of the boat house with a shaking sigh, slowly pulling off his jacket and peeling back one side of his stupid button down polo. He had left the top three buttons undone which made it easy for Steve to expose his soulmark to the rest of them. 

And there, sitting right over Steve’s heart, were the words he had just said.

Did you just say the words Dustin's fucking mother to me?

The first words Eddie Munson had ever directly said to Steve Harrington. 

[lexirosewrites]

I started watching too many videos abt human pregnancy & pets... & this thought wouldn't leave me

Steve & Eddie aren't mated yet, but they're living together, plan to mate, r already engaged, planning to maybe have a wedding or elope depending on how much a wedding would cost, when they adopt a dog (specifically a scottish deerhound bc I dream abt owning this breed in my wildest fantasy & what is fanfic if not wish fulfillment) after moving into a house they bought with the hush money

They love this dog, they did a lot of research into ethical breeders & how best to care for her breed, they've trained her in basics before moving onto more complicated commands & finally going thru a process to train her in the basics of emotional support (bc both of them have nightmares)

her full name is Gandalf the Gray Munson but they've both ended up just calling her Gray, for the most part Gray likes both of her owners equally she'll sit w Eddie as he paints minis or writes, she'll follow Steve around the kitchen or go with him on his morning run, & she'll sit w her owners as they watch something or try to dance w them when they listen to music, she even guards the door to their bedroom when either of them goes into heat/rut & will only move when a human she trusts comes to pick her up so they can take care of her without her owners worrying

Steddie finally elope & have a party w their closest family & friends afterwards, they exchange mating bites & have a short honeymoon, Gray is ecstatic when they get back to say the least, then a week or 2 after they get back Gray starts acting differently... she'll almost exclusively follow Steve around, she sniffs him more often, she cuddles him A LOT & then... Steve's period doesn't arrive so he takes several tests & every single one is positive!!

From there Gray's behavior starts to change more dramatically as the happy couple prepare to welcome their sweet baby into the world, as Steve progresses & his belly starts showing Gray needs to be near Steve like never before, she's purposefully slow on their morning jaunt tht has gone from a run to a walk, when they're out & she's w them & ppl decide to treat Steve's belly like it's public property she'll actually growl & even once jumped at a particularly insistent woman, she begins guarding Steve against pretty much everyone especially Eddie, the only exception to this is Aunty Robin the 3 of them often have cuddle puddles as Steve gets bigger & Eddie is very jealous, Gray especially loves lying w steve in a way tht allows her head to rest on his belly & as the baby grows she feels the baby kick more than once quickly loving the connection w her younger human sibling

when the day of the birth gets near she is glued to Steve & when his belly drops she's climbing into bed w steve & comforts him as the discomfort of pregnancy makes itself known even more

(This part is partially inspired by my mom's experience when she went into labour w me)

Steve gets up late at night because he thinks he needs to pee, Gray follows him into the bathroom as she's done all these 40 weeks, when he pees he realizes right away it isn't actually pee & gray obviously knows it as well

While steve slowly stands & processes tht his water just broke, she does something they never trained her to do: she runs & wakes up Eddie as Steve grips the sink when a contraction hits practicing the breathing he's learned, Eddie is literally dragged into the bathroom by Gray bc she's got his shirt in her mouth, he realizes what's happening & it's controlled chaos as he runs around grabbing Steve's shoes, a pair of clean sweat pants for his omega, & the maternity shirt Eddie’s been scenting every day for the last 40 weeks, he's got the hospital bag over his shoulder, car keys, he's actively calling Robin to come to their house & watch Gray while he's helping steve to the car, as they're driving to the hospital he's on the phone w their doctor telling her to meet them at the hospital they all planned to be at,

after they get to the hospital it all goes relatively smoothly: steve gives birth to a healthy baby boy, Eddie is a helpful presence in the birthing room, neither baby boy or steve have health complications, but it still takes close to 10 hours of active labor to meet their son, after its done steve demands Eddie get him a cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, & French fries from their favorite diner that's literally open by the time steve is in his hospital room recuperating and their son is back from a short bath & the usual medical procedures tht hospitals follow after the birth of a baby

When Steve & the baby come home a few days later Gray is ecstatic to see Steve again & so so curious & loving of her new human brother 💖

(I'm so sorry if there's any inaccurate medicine happening here, please tell me what I missed or even messed up)

i’ve always said that Steve and Eddie need an emotional support dog to help them with their trauma after everything they’ve been through, but Gray goes above and beyond for his little family🥺😭💕

[storiesforallfandoms]

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐ jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson ⭐ this is music ~ eddie munson` ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher* ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher can’t get too close ~ billy butcher ⭐ change in a heartbeat ~ billy butcher ⭐ the bad room ~ homelander ⭐

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐ too sweet ~ joel miller

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman` treat him better ~ barry berkman

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega` junker ~ beck oliver

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

PEAKY BLINDERS moved on ~ thomas shelby

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

GAME OF THRONES littlest lion ~ oberyn martell (part one) ⭐ freedom ~ oberyn martell (part two) ⭐

THE WITCHER destiny ~ geralt of rivia

DOCTOR WHO looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor ⭐

BRIDGERTON by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes fast ~ pietro maximoff ⭐

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐ the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐ partners ~ oliver quick ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

THE FALL GUY the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder

A QUIET PLACE i’d find you in any life ~ eric ⭐

GLADIATOR II betrothed ~ emperor geta ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making` sleepy head`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like` can’t keep doing this*`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world` i’m sorry i let you down`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life` cover me*`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

MOTLEY CRUE she is mine ~ mick mars`

CHRIS EVANS not used to normal` ⭐

SWAGGERSOULS our next step`

JSCHLATT too far ⭐ the hotel room* ⭐

JOHNNY DEPP just for us`

TRAVIS BARKER the parent trap`

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy`

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐ sitting on jschlatt’s lap ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

[metalhoops]

Steve and Eddie: Alternative ‘First’ meeting part 2.

Read Part 1 Here

Eddie Munson never expected Steve to be his friend. He kept waiting for the former king to realise how different their two worlds were. When that day came, he hoped Steve could look back on his time spent with the strange Metalhead with affection.

Several months had passed since the two had their first encounter in the woods outside the trailer park, and he hadn’t scared Steve away yet. Eddie found the boy following at his side every other day when he wasn’t at work. He was loyal as a golden retriever and strangely, almost as happy. When he and Steve run into each other for the first time since Steve’s graduation, one thing was clear: Steve wasn’t happy. 

Now, most days, he appeared more happy than not. Yet, he was still distant. There were things he was keeping close to his chest, but Eddie didn’t feel like he was close enough to push. 

Eddie kept waiting for the moment he’d chase Steve away. He talked the guy’s ear off about Hellfire, now that the school year was back in full swing. They’d both agreed to keep Steve’s flock of wayward children in the dark about their friendship, lest they think Steve was using Eddie to keep an eye on them, ever the babysitter. Steve listened attentively. 

He invited Steve around to watch obscure B-grade, horror schlockfests. There was no way he enjoyed it, but Steve stayed. He jumped at all the right times and laughed at all the wrong ones, just like Eddie. Steve was too good to be true. One day, something had to give. 

When they drove together, Eddie played the music too loud and performed air guitar solos at stoplights. He’d even gone so far as to serenade Steve with KISS songs as the guy helped him put together a dinner that wasn’t from a microwave container. 

He’d expected Steve to roll his eyes and call him a nerd, which admittedly he did. However, right after, he’d equipped himself with a wooden spoon and performed an equally cheesy rendition of a Bob Seger song. 

Hell, once his parents were out of town and they’d stayed the night at Steve’s he’d shown Eddie his best impression of Tom Cruise in Risky Business, complete with high socks, a poorly buttoned button-down, and too-short, shorts. Eddie was so gone for Steve Harrington, and it was horrible because he knew something was going to go wrong.

He was sick of waiting for it to happen. The two had been friends for months, and Eddie was sick of holding his breath, with each passing day knowing that the hurt would be all the greater as his attachment to Steve grew. 

Steve’s parents were out of town, which always made for a more relaxed Steve. He’d invited Eddie to stay the night at his place for the first time. Eddie realised what had to happen next as Steve invited him to crash with him in his bed. 

This was the thing that would finally scare Steve away. This was the thing that would get Steve to finally give up his reformed jock status and call him a freak. He couldn’t share a bed with Steve without him knowing, it wasn’t fair. 

“I kinda like taking the side next to the door. You mind taking the window side?” Steve asked so casually it made Eddie’s heart ache. 

He found it hard to swallow as he bit the bullet and told Steve the thing he’d been dancing around for months. 

“I’m gay, Steve.” He wished he’d been more eloquent, but he hadn’t. He spoke to the shitty plaid wallpaper, his words running together. 

When he finally looked, he found Steve sitting on the bed, his wide eyes looking equal parts alarmed and confused. He wasn’t cursing at Eddie or chasing the guy out of his house, so far, it was going better than he’d expected. 

“Uh... thanks for telling me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you steal my side of the bed,” Steve finally replied. Eddie was goddamn floored. 

“You heard me, right?” Eddie repeated. There was no way in hell this wasn’t the thing that chased Steve away. 

“Roger Dodger. Loud and clear. You don’t like boobs,” Steve paraphrased as he wriggled under the covers. Eddie let out a sound between a snort and a sob because, holy shit, Steve didn’t care. He was also an absolute idiot, but that was expected.

“And you’re still cool with me sleeping with you?” Eddie asked. 

“I don’t like to sleep alone much, anymore,” Steve spoke with a vague shrug of his shoulders. There it was again, the uneasy sense he got that Steve wasn’t telling him something important. 

Eddie didn’t pry, because Steve hadn’t pushed when he’d just goddamn come out to him. Eddie slipped beneath the covers, closest to the window and lay beside Steve until the man fell asleep. Eddie couldn’t sleep, his head still reeling. 

After an hour, he felt Steve twitch at his side and mumble something incoherent. Eddie stayed still, thinking the moment would pass, quick and painless as a sun shower. Instead, Steve started to thrash. Eddie sat up in bed, flicked on the lights, and gazed down at the former king’s pinched brows. It was hard to believe this was the same boy who’d stalked the halls of Hawkins High, looking seemingly untouchable from Eddie’s ranks amongst the outcasts and common folk. 

“Stevie?” Eddie breathed, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder in an attempt to wake him. 

The other man’s body stilled beneath his hand, and his face remained contorted. In his sleep, he crept closer to Eddie, curling his body around him. He had no idea what the hell to do. Steve hating to sleep alone made more sense. 

“It’s okay, Harrington. I got you. You’re okay,” Eddie mumbled, taking a risk and leaning down to card his hands through the man’s hair. 

Eddie sat there for another half-hour, muttering quiet nothings until he stilled and slept peacefully. 

When morning finally came and the two found themselves dancing around each other in the Harrington’s oversized kitchen, Eddie decided to broach the subject. Steve kept setting off alarm bells in his head, and he had no idea how to quiet them on his own. 

“Steve, I know I’m a shitty listener because I love to hear the sound of my own voice, but you know, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here, right?” 

Steve stepped back from the kitchen cabinet to get a better look at Eddie, his face the picture of conflict. He kept looking as though he were seconds from telling Eddie something before going dead quiet. Finally, he spoke.

“I don’t think I’m entirely straight.” 

That hadn’t been what he was fishing for, but holy shit. 

To make matters worse, Steve was sending him all the right goddamn cues. His eyes flickered to Eddie’s lips, then back to his face. He chewed on his bottom lip and ran his fingers through his carefully styled hair. Screw it. 

Eddie crossed the space between them and smash their lips together, pushing Steve’s back against the cabinet. It was a car crash kind of desperation. Limbs and lips everywhere. Steve ended up on the countertop, his legs wrapped around Eddie’s hips, hands in his hair. Eddie’s head was a chorus of holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. 

Eddie Munson never expected Steve to be his friend, but the one thing he’d never expected to ruin their friendship was a kiss. 

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