mrsweasley23 - Tumblr blog

[mrsweasley23]

For @hbyrde36, who requested angst #14 💕💜💗✨ cw for cheating (kissing) (and only kind of-Steve’s an idiot in this, happy endings only!!)

Eddie’s not moping. Or sulking. Or yearning or pining or grieving or any of the things his friends think he’s doing.

Because Eddie didn’t think Steve—

Steve wasn’t—

Steve—

Eddie had known better. Known better than to let a pretty, rich boy sweep him off his feet. Known that letting Steve’s big warm eyes and kind smile and sweet words and gentle touches melt right through all of the ways he keeps people at arms length, was letting himself get swept up.

He just thought Steve would catch him.

Naive.

So if he’s practicing for longer than usual, well. Eddie’s neighbors are more than used to it by now.

His fingers are cramping. There’s sweat on his temples. On his neck where the strap rests. The pads of his fingers ache and his ears are getting that fuzzy feeling that means he has his amp up too high, but this is his one outlet that isn’t hazardous to his lungs or liver. Definitely the only one that isn’t actively self-sabotaging, and Eddie can’t make himself break away.

He wants to stay here. Where his worst problem is his finger cramps. Where he doesn’t have to think about Steve kissing that girl.

Steve kissing that girl after he’d held Eddie’s hand so tight, and caressed his face and placed kisses on his cheeks and Eddie had just thought—

His string snaps.

It pings, lashes out across the back of his hand and Eddie curses. It doesn’t even hurt but suddenly he wants to—to smash the stupid thing. Wants to see it splinter across his dresser and feel the neck of it snap, feel the rest of the strings pop and hear the sound of it echo within the trailer’s walls, wants to shatter sweetheart until it can’t play anything. Ever again.

Sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart.

He throws his guitar to the bed, and grabs his smokes.

It’s raining. Fat droplets fall from a brooding sky and he sits on the couch out front, sticks out his legs so his toes get dampened by the rain, and lights up.

And lights up again.

He’s debating, after his third, on whether or not to go inside and roll a joint. Dull his nicotine rush with some good old THC, when headlights flash.

That Eddie ignores. He’s not too keen on starting conversation with any of his neighbors, all of them horrid busy-bodies, but the headlights don’t turn away. They come straight to him. Park not five feet away from where his now-soaked feet rest under the summer rain.

Eddie hates that he still softens at the sight of him. Still feels all gooey and warm despite the memories that flood. The way white-hot embarrassment licks up his spine and his teeth grind without intention and he feels his chest cracking just watching the way he gets out of his car.

Eddie stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word as Steve closes his car door. Doesn’t twitch as Steve hovers in the rain, his hair dampening. His shirt beginning to darken.

The kids always say he’s most unnerving when he gets quiet. Knows something horrible is going to happen if their DM isn’t saying a word, so it’s what he sinks into now.

He has no words to say, anyways.

“I know I shouldn’t be here.” Rain glistens on his upper lip. Clumps his eyelashes. “I know you want me to stay away, but Eddie I just need you to understand, I didn’t think it was like that.”

But Jesus fucking Christ he doesn’t listen to Steve’s.

He stands. Does it with as much of his shattered goddamn dignity he can muster, and stalks to the door.

Steve curses. There’s a wet slap of shoes and then a hand is on Eddie’s shoulder, pulling them face to face.

Eddie’s skin roils at the touch. He knocks Steve away, and bares his teeth. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

But the four words are a damn breaking, how good he was at holding it all in when he’d seen it happen, caged it all up so he didn’t give Steve a single more piece of himself, is faltering, now. “I get it,” he seethes, and despite the rain dampening their voices he keep his tone to a whisper, doesn’t need his neighbors poking into why he’s sending Steve Harrington away from his porch, “I’m the it was fun while it lasted or the experiment but I am not the one to have it like that with anyone.” And this is why he hadn’t wanted to do this. Had wanted to break it off clean and suture himself closed because now he feels his nose begin to burn and his throat begin to tighten and he is not going to let Steve Harrington see him cry about him. “Go away, Steve.” His voice doesn’t crack. But he has to swallow down the lump in his throat as he goes for the door handle again.

Steve doesn’t touch him. But he steps in between him and the door, sets those woeful eyes on him, and suddenly Eddie can see how horrible he looks. Bags under his eyes. Patchy stubble on his cheeks. Down his neck. “Please, Eddie, that’s not what I meant.” It’s Steve’s voice that wobbles, now. “I didn’t think you wanted that with me.”

The pain in Eddie’s chest goes numb. “What?” His tone is flat. Affectless. A single sharp syllable that causes Steve to run his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t—” Steve shakes his head. Bites down on his lip. “I didn’t think that was like, an option.” He says it so quiet, the drops on the tin awning nearly drowning him out. “I’ve, done what we have,” Steve murmurs, “before. With—it doesn’t fucking matter who oh my god—just, it never meant what it did with girls. With him. He just, he just always acted like nothing ever happened. And when he got a girlfriend we never really stopped things. And I just thought that’s how it goes. That when it was with a guy it wasn’t the same. That I was wrong for, for wanting more.” Steve sighs. Curls his arms around his middle. And he looks so sad. Like the last few days have been just as hard on him, and when Eddie reaches for the anger that was there not a minute ago, he finds that it’s shrunk on him. And it’s not as anger-shaped, anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” he breathes, “but I need you to know that you weren’t a, an experiment or something fun, I—” Steve breaks off again, his eyebrows pinching. His mouth turns down. “I meant everything we did.” He whispers.

And Eddie knows what he means. The afters and the in-betweens, the pauses and the just-befores, all of the moments that stacked up that made Eddie feel like Steve was someone safe to fall for, Steve had felt them, too.

“I’ve always wanted more with you,” he goes on, and Steve’s fingers twitch by his sides, like he wants to reach, “and I know it’s, it’s always gonna be different but I don’t want it to be different the way I thought it had to be. I want—” Steve’s hand twitches again. Bridges the small gap between them, brushing their fingers together.

Steve’s hands are warm. Eddie can’t imagine them being anything but.

“I want you,” Steve breathes, “and I want you to have me, too.” Steve licks his lips. “All of me,” he clarifies.

Eddie closes his eyes. Feels the relief and the heartache like a vice in his chest because—

“I’d thought that’s what we had,” Eddie admits. And just saying those words feels like a betrayal to himself, in letting Steve see where he’d hurt him.

Steve’s hand curls tighter. His broad palm envelopes Eddie’s and he watches as Steve’s face crumples, as he pushes himself away from the door to come closer.

And Eddie hates that all he wants to do is fall into him. To bury his face in Steve’s chest and let himself be swept away—

But his feet stay planted as Steve comes closer. His wet shoes make dark rings on the porch. “I know,” Steve says, like the words pain him, “and I understand if, if I’m too late.”

Eddie wants it to be too late. Wants to be strong enough to put this all behind him, to send Steve away in the rain and the mud, but Eddie’s anger is gone, now. Drained like a stopper being pulled, and he doesn’t know what to do, now that it’s gone.

His heart thuds against his ribs. Steve’s hand heats his own, and Eddie still wants.

He curls his fingers around Steve’s. “We can’t be like before,” he murmurs. Because he can’t. Can’t find it in himself to leap with the same trust, blind and faithful that Steve’s arms will catch him, but, maybe, he can take a step.

If Steve holds his hand while he does. “It’s slow. Or not at all.”

Steve nods. Keeps nodding, the horrible frown on his face lifting into a small, hesitant smile. “Whatever you want,” he promises, and his other hand twitches, but stays by his side. “Whatever you want,” he repeats, instead.

Thunder rolls. A flash of lightning illuminates the dark sky, and Steve’s grip doesn’t loosen.

Eddie nods towards the trailer. “Want to come inside?”

Steve’s hesitant smile grows. Turns hopeful. “I do.”

Eddie opens the door. And Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.

Okay taglist enough of you told me to continue to bother you (IM SORRY I JUST DONT WANT TO BE ANNOYING AND I APPRECIATE YOU ALL V MUCH) so if you don’t want me to spam you with all of these, I completely understand and I can remove you 💗✨

My tag list is now closed: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade @transvampireboyfriend

@morallyundefined @micheledawn1975 @sidekick-hero @steddieonbigboy @devondespresso

[mrsweasley23]

For @hbyrde36, who requested angst #14 💕💜💗✨ cw for cheating (kissing) (and only kind of-Steve’s an idiot in this, happy endings only!!)

Eddie’s not moping. Or sulking. Or yearning or pining or grieving or any of the things his friends think he’s doing.

Because Eddie didn’t think Steve—

Steve wasn’t—

Steve—

Eddie had known better. Known better than to let a pretty, rich boy sweep him off his feet. Known that letting Steve’s big warm eyes and kind smile and sweet words and gentle touches melt right through all of the ways he keeps people at arms length, was letting himself get swept up.

He just thought Steve would catch him.

Naive.

So if he’s practicing for longer than usual, well. Eddie’s neighbors are more than used to it by now.

His fingers are cramping. There’s sweat on his temples. On his neck where the strap rests. The pads of his fingers ache and his ears are getting that fuzzy feeling that means he has his amp up too high, but this is his one outlet that isn’t hazardous to his lungs or liver. Definitely the only one that isn’t actively self-sabotaging, and Eddie can’t make himself break away.

He wants to stay here. Where his worst problem is his finger cramps. Where he doesn’t have to think about Steve kissing that girl.

Steve kissing that girl after he’d held Eddie’s hand so tight, and caressed his face and placed kisses on his cheeks and Eddie had just thought—

His string snaps.

It pings, lashes out across the back of his hand and Eddie curses. It doesn’t even hurt but suddenly he wants to—to smash the stupid thing. Wants to see it splinter across his dresser and feel the neck of it snap, feel the rest of the strings pop and hear the sound of it echo within the trailer’s walls, wants to shatter sweetheart until it can’t play anything. Ever again.

Sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart.

He throws his guitar to the bed, and grabs his smokes.

It’s raining. Fat droplets fall from a brooding sky and he sits on the couch out front, sticks out his legs so his toes get dampened by the rain, and lights up.

And lights up again.

He’s debating, after his third, on whether or not to go inside and roll a joint. Dull his nicotine rush with some good old THC, when headlights flash.

That Eddie ignores. He’s not too keen on starting conversation with any of his neighbors, all of them horrid busy-bodies, but the headlights don’t turn away. They come straight to him. Park not five feet away from where his now-soaked feet rest under the summer rain.

Eddie hates that he still softens at the sight of him. Still feels all gooey and warm despite the memories that flood. The way white-hot embarrassment licks up his spine and his teeth grind without intention and he feels his chest cracking just watching the way he gets out of his car.

Eddie stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word as Steve closes his car door. Doesn’t twitch as Steve hovers in the rain, his hair dampening. His shirt beginning to darken.

The kids always say he’s most unnerving when he gets quiet. Knows something horrible is going to happen if their DM isn’t saying a word, so it’s what he sinks into now.

He has no words to say, anyways.

“I know I shouldn’t be here.” Rain glistens on his upper lip. Clumps his eyelashes. “I know you want me to stay away, but Eddie I just need you to understand, I didn’t think it was like that.”

But Jesus fucking Christ he doesn’t listen to Steve’s.

He stands. Does it with as much of his shattered goddamn dignity he can muster, and stalks to the door.

Steve curses. There’s a wet slap of shoes and then a hand is on Eddie’s shoulder, pulling them face to face.

Eddie’s skin roils at the touch. He knocks Steve away, and bares his teeth. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

But the four words are a damn breaking, how good he was at holding it all in when he’d seen it happen, caged it all up so he didn’t give Steve a single more piece of himself, is faltering, now. “I get it,” he seethes, and despite the rain dampening their voices he keep his tone to a whisper, doesn’t need his neighbors poking into why he’s sending Steve Harrington away from his porch, “I’m the it was fun while it lasted or the experiment but I am not the one to have it like that with anyone.” And this is why he hadn’t wanted to do this. Had wanted to break it off clean and suture himself closed because now he feels his nose begin to burn and his throat begin to tighten and he is not going to let Steve Harrington see him cry about him. “Go away, Steve.” His voice doesn’t crack. But he has to swallow down the lump in his throat as he goes for the door handle again.

Steve doesn’t touch him. But he steps in between him and the door, sets those woeful eyes on him, and suddenly Eddie can see how horrible he looks. Bags under his eyes. Patchy stubble on his cheeks. Down his neck. “Please, Eddie, that’s not what I meant.” It’s Steve’s voice that wobbles, now. “I didn’t think you wanted that with me.”

The pain in Eddie’s chest goes numb. “What?” His tone is flat. Affectless. A single sharp syllable that causes Steve to run his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t—” Steve shakes his head. Bites down on his lip. “I didn’t think that was like, an option.” He says it so quiet, the drops on the tin awning nearly drowning him out. “I’ve, done what we have,” Steve murmurs, “before. With—it doesn’t fucking matter who oh my god—just, it never meant what it did with girls. With him. He just, he just always acted like nothing ever happened. And when he got a girlfriend we never really stopped things. And I just thought that’s how it goes. That when it was with a guy it wasn’t the same. That I was wrong for, for wanting more.” Steve sighs. Curls his arms around his middle. And he looks so sad. Like the last few days have been just as hard on him, and when Eddie reaches for the anger that was there not a minute ago, he finds that it’s shrunk on him. And it’s not as anger-shaped, anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” he breathes, “but I need you to know that you weren’t a, an experiment or something fun, I—” Steve breaks off again, his eyebrows pinching. His mouth turns down. “I meant everything we did.” He whispers.

And Eddie knows what he means. The afters and the in-betweens, the pauses and the just-befores, all of the moments that stacked up that made Eddie feel like Steve was someone safe to fall for, Steve had felt them, too.

“I’ve always wanted more with you,” he goes on, and Steve’s fingers twitch by his sides, like he wants to reach, “and I know it’s, it’s always gonna be different but I don’t want it to be different the way I thought it had to be. I want—” Steve’s hand twitches again. Bridges the small gap between them, brushing their fingers together.

Steve’s hands are warm. Eddie can’t imagine them being anything but.

“I want you,” Steve breathes, “and I want you to have me, too.” Steve licks his lips. “All of me,” he clarifies.

Eddie closes his eyes. Feels the relief and the heartache like a vice in his chest because—

“I’d thought that’s what we had,” Eddie admits. And just saying those words feels like a betrayal to himself, in letting Steve see where he’d hurt him.

Steve’s hand curls tighter. His broad palm envelopes Eddie’s and he watches as Steve’s face crumples, as he pushes himself away from the door to come closer.

And Eddie hates that all he wants to do is fall into him. To bury his face in Steve’s chest and let himself be swept away—

But his feet stay planted as Steve comes closer. His wet shoes make dark rings on the porch. “I know,” Steve says, like the words pain him, “and I understand if, if I’m too late.”

Eddie wants it to be too late. Wants to be strong enough to put this all behind him, to send Steve away in the rain and the mud, but Eddie’s anger is gone, now. Drained like a stopper being pulled, and he doesn’t know what to do, now that it’s gone.

His heart thuds against his ribs. Steve’s hand heats his own, and Eddie still wants.

He curls his fingers around Steve’s. “We can’t be like before,” he murmurs. Because he can’t. Can’t find it in himself to leap with the same trust, blind and faithful that Steve’s arms will catch him, but, maybe, he can take a step.

If Steve holds his hand while he does. “It’s slow. Or not at all.”

Steve nods. Keeps nodding, the horrible frown on his face lifting into a small, hesitant smile. “Whatever you want,” he promises, and his other hand twitches, but stays by his side. “Whatever you want,” he repeats, instead.

Thunder rolls. A flash of lightning illuminates the dark sky, and Steve’s grip doesn’t loosen.

Eddie nods towards the trailer. “Want to come inside?”

Steve’s hesitant smile grows. Turns hopeful. “I do.”

Eddie opens the door. And Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.

Okay taglist enough of you told me to continue to bother you (IM SORRY I JUST DONT WANT TO BE ANNOYING AND I APPRECIATE YOU ALL V MUCH) so if you don’t want me to spam you with all of these, I completely understand and I can remove you 💗✨

My tag list is now closed: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle

@westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @theheadlessphilosopher @spectrum-spectre

@itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade @transvampireboyfriend

@morallyundefined @micheledawn1975 @sidekick-hero @steddieonbigboy @devondespresso

[mrsweasley23]

Another absolute banger from @azrielgreen

30k • explicit • hard BDSM exploration and feelings make it messy

Read it HERE

[mrsweasley23]

"Under the moon, the stars, the beauty of a temporary world and a love that lives in skin and bones, shaped by experiences, by kindness, the way glass is shaped by water." (You're Divine, Chapter 8) @azrielgreen 🖤

(close ups under the cut)

Az, this piece was made with love and your unwavering encouragement fueled my motivation. Thank you again for being so patient and kind💜

To everyone else who sees this: go read You're Divine and prepare for your soul to be both softly cradled and cathartically wrung out by Azriel's beautiful prose and storytelling. Then go read everything else because it only gets better.

[mrsweasley23]

Me: *watching Stranger Things S5 Ep 1*

“Like, what do you mean Steve isn’t a bisexual hurt bbygirl with meanie parents and doesn’t have game nights with the kids in his big empty house and doesn’t have sleepovers with Robin and he isn’t in love with Eddie who came back from the dead as part monster with a split personality that’s also in love with Steve?!?!?!?!”

Me: *turns off TV*

[mrsweasley23]

It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.

He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.

Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.

"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.

it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.

And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.

"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.

"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"

"Eddie?" Dustin asks.

"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.

"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"

They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.

"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."

"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't answering your walkie!"

"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.

Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.

"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"

"Mom and I were looking for you!"

"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.

"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.

"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."

"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."

He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.

---

A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."

"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."

"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"

Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."

Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.

"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"

"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.

He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.

---

Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.

The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"

"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.

"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"

Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"

"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.

Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."

The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"

He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"

"He started it!"

"I highly doubt that."

"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"

"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"

She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."

He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."

"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."

---

It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.

It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.

With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.

"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.

"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.

Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.

"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.

"I wanted to apologize."

"What for?"

"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."

"But--why?"

"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.

"What?" He laughs.

"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."

"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"

"You wanted me to come?"

"Dustin didn't..."

"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."

"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."

"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."

"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.

"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.

"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."

"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.

"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."

"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"

"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.

"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.

"So Dustin said."

It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Too bad. He's a nice kid."

"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."

"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"

"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."

The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.

[mrsweasley23]

TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

[mrsweasley23]

The Harrington Parents

What if Steve is not actually an only child. He is actually the youngest. The reason his parents are never around and we never get any mention of older siblings is that there is a very large age gap. Is sibling closest to him is more than 10 years older than him. His sibling or siblings are in were in college or close to it when he was born.

His parents never wanted another child. They had done their WASPy due diligence and had the appropriate number of children and raised them to adulthood. Then Mrs. Harrington got pregnant. They thought is was menopause at first, but, no, it was another child. They were looking forward to being empty nesters, and they did not want another child.

Steve grew up knowing his parents didn’t want him. He was a mistake that got in the way of their perfect retirement plan. He would hear his parents talk to his siblings on the phone and seem so proud of his lawyer brother or his senator’s wife sister. 

His parents went to his sister’s wedding anniversary, it was the same day as an important swim meet. They were there for when his brother made partner, it was Steve’s 10th birthday. 

He tried to be more like his brother. His brother in high school was on the basketball team. He was swim captain. It didn’t work. His parents still were never home.

He is not close to his siblings. They did know what to do with a toddler begging for their parents attention. Then they had their careers and their own kids to focus on. Steve was left at home, alone, watching his parents be good ones to the children they actually wanted. 

It wasn’t them. They were good parents. They never forgot an important date. They were attentive. They called on birthday’s and visited on holiday’s. So the problem wasn’t them. He watched them be great parents, ones that any kid love to call their own. He was just watching it happen to other people.

His parents were good parents. They just didn’t want him. 

So, he must be the problem.

[mrsweasley23]

Modern AU, Eddie and Steve are together and live together, Steve is a paramedic and Eddie is a bartender + fairly successful streamer. He usually plays games where you can create your own character, or at least customize it.

Steve doesn't watch any of the streams, but he's very supportive of Eddie's career.

What he doesn't know is: Eddie always creates a character based on Steve. Always.

Mass Effect? Commander Steve Shepard, brown eyes, hair and tons of bitching from Eddie during the stream that the faces are all ugly and they don't do Steve justice. He goes for the destroy ending because he'll never, EVER have Steve die in a game for good.

Dragon Age: Inquisition? Warrior Steve to the rescue. He also romances Dorian because "of course he would date a sassy gay, duh."

Baldur's Gate 3? Paladin Steven with Oath of Devotion, doing as much good as possible, keeping Gale from becoming a horrible godly being, becoming besties with Karlach and romancing Astarion because "that's just who Steve is, he believes in people even when they don't."

Steve doesn't learn about this for years. But when he does, he completely loses it at a sentence that Eddie always uses to end his stream: "Be good, guys. Always ask: WWSD - What Would Steve Do?"

And yes. There is merch with that.

[mrsweasley23]

Are you ready to be broken to the core?

Sunday is theirs.

This beautiful, wild day spent completely alone.

In the bath later, they make each other come and Eddie wants to devote his life to bringing this boy to orgasm, the fucking look of him, the sounds are exquisite reward for beautiful work.

Sun down, they’re cuddling and watching an old movie, playing with skin and palms and fingers.

Steve whispers, ‘I forgive you,’ and Eddie closes his eyes, tries to let it in, but he can’t.

It’s the last night before he ruins it.

Hooke's Law Chapter Three - HERE

[mrsweasley23]

#steddie

No upside down but they still found each other AU where once they get out of Hawkins and move into a little apartment together in the city, Stobin set up a 'date night' routine once a week.

Obviously not a typical date night cause Platonic with a capital P, but they alternate each week who gets to plan the date night activities meaning they both get to do something fun, interesting, exciting, and potentially ridiculous that they themselves wouldn't have thought of.

One such date night, on Robin's turn to plan, is a relatively cheap art exhibition at a local small time independent gallery, focusing on portraits of people the artist has seen around the city, quickly sketched, then painted afterwards.

Her most recent crush had suggested she attend it as her best friend was the artist and was absolutely shitting it over revealing his work to the public that'd inspired those works, certain that everyone would hate them.

They get dressed up, ready to play the part of Fancy Art Connoisseurs, Steve ready to meet and big up Robin to this cute girl Robin had gushed about endlessly as the best wingman ever

Only for them both to wind up stuck one one particular painting titled and described:

E. Munson Angel Incognito Oil on Canvas, The most beautiful man i've ever seen in my life. I was certain i'd seen an angel.

It's Steve.

Sitting in the park, feeding the birds, painted to look... ethereal. Moles dotted with gold, sunlight hitting his soft hair just so, catching the rim of his glasses.

And Robin is immediately on a mission to be the best wingwoman ever because this is NO LONGER about her crush on Chrissy dammit she MUST find this artist, present Steve to him, and "now KISS" smush them both together like barbie dolls.

Good thing Eddie is nearby.

[mrsweasley23]

This is pure poetry 💗💗💗 read it up

This Az Verse gift fic is EXQUISITE, please read it!!

[mrsweasley23]

#steddie #eddie falls first Steve falls harder

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

[mrsweasley23]

Steve was used to being a disappointment. He’s let down his parents the moment he was born and continued to do so with nearly every choice he made. He disappointed the entire student body at Hawkins High right when they thought he might actually be someone important. And he let down the kids every time they asked for something he couldn’t provide.

He never thought he’d disappoint Robin though. She wasn’t fond of his dating tales of woe or his frankly pathetic work ethic at Family Video but he’d never seen the familiar spark of disappointment in her eyes. Not until he told her that he’s broken things off with Eddie.

It wasn’t like he’d wanted to either, despite their obvious differences, they made a great pair. But they wanted different things. Eddie wanted a cat when Steve wanted a dog. Eddie wanted to saunter in the streets and parade their relationship whereas Steve wanted to remain comfortable and committed at home. Most of all though, Eddie wanted to leave but Steve needed to stay.

Robin couldn’t understand that. She’s always wanted to leave the dead end town she’d been trapped in and planned to as soon as she raised enough funds. She was made for bigger and brighter things.

Steve, though, he wasn’t. He was meant to stick around and watch the kids until they left for school and grew up to lead happy lives. Steve was meant to stay the burdensome housekeeper of his parent’s home until either they kicked him out or he inherited it upon their death. He didn’t have the education to get jobs better than Scoops Ahoy or Family Video nor the experience that demanded anything better. He’d peaked in high school and everyone knew it.

Except Robin until that very moment. He watched the disdain form in her eyes and the hopes of their combined future leave her plans. By breaking things off with Eddie, he’d let both of them down. Eddie would leave without him to be the big rockstar he’d always wanted to be. He wouldn’t notice Steve’s absence. Robin would leave to go to school and become a professor or a linguist or a therapist, anything she wanted to do. But Steve would still be in Hawkins wasting away like he’d always been meant to…

Or so he thought until the day Eddie and Robin ganged up to kidnap him from Hawkins and start their lives together in the city.

Eddie became the world’s coolest rockstar, even more famous than Metallica or any other idols of his youth.

Robin became a social worker that assisted LGBTQ+ youth and at risk kids that needed her help.

And Steve became a novelist that sold his enchanting stories of monsters and super powered teens from alternate realms, of young men that fell in love with each other over cereal and bat bites, and chosen family that didn’t give up on each other.

Steve was no longer a disappointment to the people who mattered most to him (he’d soon realize he never was). Best yet was that he no longer disappointed himself. He could lounge in Eddie’s arms at night and spastically harass Robin during the day and the only emotion he ever saw in their eyes was love.

And annoyance from time to time but does that really count?

[mrsweasley23]

In The Water, With You

Now COMPLETE!

Harringrove • 93k • Explicit

Exquisite art by the beautifully talented and all around amazing artist @lemonhitsu

[mrsweasley23]

Aaaaah one more, why not.

[mrsweasley23]

The 'Little Bits' series will be completed this Sunday with the final part being posted on AO3.

This is such a bittersweet thing, saying goodbye to these boys and their monster forever but they'll always be with me and I'm so grateful for all the 'You're Divine' magic I've experienced the last few years.

Here's to new stories, Happy March!💜