#Dustin Booth

[retropopcult]

Rain Man (1988)

[munsster]

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong. 

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

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masterlist

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[ashwhowrites]

Hiii i really lovee your writings! Hope can make it into your request list. I'm thinking of simp eddie doing everything that he can to keep his girlfriend's attention on him all day, especially when there is an event outside that gets her busy from catering to his needs. And one thing that he can't stand, is waking up to an empty side bed. Thank you!

This was adorable. And I'm definitely Eddie in this situation. I want my partners attention 24/7. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Her attention

Eddie was smitten and in love with his girlfriend, and everyone knew it. It didn't matter if it was a stranger or his best friend, it was clear he lived for the attention of her.

Y/N and Eddie have been together for a year and the honeymoon phase never fizzled. He loved her more as each day passed.

And he loved having her attention focused just on him. If her eyes wandered elsewhere, he was quick to bring her eyes right back. He was like a little puppy, with his soft eyes and hyper attitude when she looked at him. He sat and waited at the door, staring at the window all day long, and bounced at her feet once she walked in.

He didn't like to be alone, and she knew that. She was happy to bring him along everywhere if he was welcomed. She loved that boy just as much as he loved her.

~~~

Y/N led Eddie into the restaurant and he refused to let go of her hand. She loved how he followed her around with no thoughts in his pretty boy's head.

"Last to join us, I wonder why," Steve teased as the couple joined the gang in a large booth. His eyes looked to Eddie as he made room.

"Traffic," Eddie lied

"At least you had someone to keep you busy," Robin added as she flicked the red lipstick on Eddie's neck. He flinched and muttered ow.

Eddie kept his hand in hers as they ordered their drinks.

The gang was quick to jump into a conversation.

"How is the new job?" Nancy asked, her eyes on Y/N

"It is so good!" Y/N exclaimed with a smile. "My boss is very nice and the workload isn't too bad."

She felt Eddie's fingers tap against her thigh but she continued to talk. "My coworker did the funniest thing!"

The longer she told the story, the more she felt Eddie's fingers tapping her thigh. He began to poke her skin as he waited for her to notice him. He ignored everyone else, his head turned just to face her. His puppy eyes frowning as he waited for her to look back at him.

The group laughed as she finished the story, Dustin quick to add on with his own. Y/N gave him her full attention as she listened. She gave Eddie's hand a squeeze, but that didn't satisfy him.

"So Eddie!" Mike went to ask a question as Y/N talked with the group. But Eddie didn't bother to turn around. He waved Mike off with his free hand.

Eddie groaned as Robin brought her into another conversation.

The drinks were dropped off and the food was in the kitchen. And Eddie still didn't have her attention.

He huffed and puffed, pouting like a baby as he kicked whoever started a conversation underneath the table.

"OW!"

"OW!"

"EDDIE STOP!"

"Edward!" Y/N scolded, as the table grumbled in pain. Her eyes finally looked over to him. That excited puppy look in his eyes. He smiled like he did nothing wrong, just excited that she was finally paying attention to him.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, picking up her hand to kiss the back of it.

"Stop hurting our friends!"

~

It took another five minutes before Eddie started pouting again. Her attention was on Nancy, as Eddie groaned.

"We'll be right back," Y/N said as she dragged Eddie out of the booth. The tabled "ooo" ed as Eddie flipped them off.

They went outside and rounded the corner to be out of eyesight.

"What is the deal?" She snapped, her hand dropped his as she crossed her arms.

Eddie knew she was slightly pissed, but he knew exactly how to get out of it.

"I wanted to get you alone," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned against the wall

"Why?"

He didn't say anything, just grabbed her arm, making her uncross them. He grabbed her hand and yanked her right against him. She gasped as her body smacked into his hard chest.

"Because this is more fun," he whispered as he looked into her eyes. His eyes flashed down to her lips before he leaned in. She closed her eyes and met him halfway in a steamy kiss. He let go of her hand to wrap his arms around her waist. She moaned as his tongue slipped in her mouth. Her hands were against his chest as she kissed him harder.

She moaned as he moved his hand down to her ass. He budged his knee between her legs and pushed her hips against him.

~~~

Y/N and Eddie were finding their seats. Y/N munched on Twizzlers as Eddie led them to two open seats. The previews played on the big screen and Eddie dug into the popcorn.

As the lights dimmed and the movie started to roll, Eddie remembered why he hated the movie theater. He had to be silent, he couldn't talk to his girlfriend like he wanted. And he was supposed to keep his hands to himself. If he can't touch her or talk to her, how would he ever get her attention?

Eddie barely made it thirty minutes into the movie before he slipped his hand in hers. She held his hand back but eyes focused on the movie. He rubbed her hand with his thumb, but her eyes were locked on the film.

He unlaced their hands and grabbed her chin instead. He softly turned her head and kissed her lips. She thought it was a quick peck, but Eddie had other things in mind.

~~~

Eddie groaned as the morning sunlight shined through his window and right on his eyes. He turned his body, reaching for Y/N but felt his hand hit the empty space.

He shot up immediately and opened his eyes.

"BABY?" he screamed into the empty room

"SHOWER"

He got out of bed, yawning as he crossed the hallway to the open bathroom door. He watched as her body slid behind the curtain and the water began running.

He rubbed his tired eyes and then slipped out of his boxers. He opened the closet and grabbed another towel. Placing it on the hook next to hers.

He didn't say anything as he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower. He wrapped his arms around her waist and planted his head on her shoulder. He pecked her cheek and hummed in delight as the warm water began to soak into his curls.

"I missed you," he said into her skin

"I missed you too, baby," she said, turning her head to give him a quick kiss.

~~~

"And then he-"

Eddie groaned as Y/N talked on the phone. He was lying on her bed with his guitar. He strummed a few random chords as she gossiped with one of her friends. Her back was to him and he hated it.

"Babeeeeeee" he whispered but she didn't turn around

"Babyyyyyy" he tried again, she turned but held her finger up

He rolled his eyes and picked up his guitar, he stood right behind her, waiting for her to turn around.

"One sec, Rob. Eddie needs to show me something," she sighed. She turned to Eddie with a questioning look.

"I learned a new song! Listen!"

~

Robin sighed as she waited for Y/N to return to the phone. After a while, she heard the guitar stop and the couple whispering. Then it got silent

"Y/N, you there?" she asked

more silence

then a high-pitched moan came through the phone along with Eddie's name.

Robin gagged and hung up the phone. She'll try to have Y/N's attention another day.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[hellfirenacht]

Candygram

Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw

4.8k Words Master List

“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 

Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 

You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 

“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 

“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 

“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 

“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 

“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 

“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”

“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 

“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”

You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 

During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.

You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 

Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 

“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”

“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 

“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 

“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”

Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 

“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 

“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 

“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”

“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”

“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 

“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”

And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”

“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 

---

Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 

No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 

He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 

“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 

“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”

More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 

Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 

And nothing else. 

You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 

Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 

It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.

That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 

---

“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 

“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”

“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 

“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”

Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.

Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 

By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 

“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 

He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 

Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-

You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 

Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 

Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 

You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 

Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 

Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 

“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 

You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 

The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 

“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 

Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 

To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 

Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 

“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 

“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 

“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”

You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 

Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 

Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 

But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 

Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 

“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 

“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”

“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 

“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 

After that... well, the ball is in his court. 

Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 

“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”

“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”

“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 

“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 

“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”

“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 

You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?

---

“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 

He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 

Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 

One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 

Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 

You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 

Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-

It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 

Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 

You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 

The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...

It looked like some bird

Some sort of weird bird

Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-

Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 

Eddie had-

“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 

Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!

 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 

The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 

What was that about?

Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 

You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 

This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 

You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 

There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 

“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 

When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 

Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 

“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 

He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 

To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 

“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”

He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 

“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 

“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 

“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.

“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 

“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 

“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 

“Spell my name, Eddie.” 

You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 

“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 

“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 

Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”

“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”

“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 

Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 

“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”

Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 

“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 

“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 

As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 

“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”

Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 

“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 

---

Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3

Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie since you joined Hellfire Club. Too bad he's crushing on Chrissy Cunningham...right?

Warnings: angst to fluff, idiots in love, super cheesy but it's Valentine's Day so idc WC: 1.6k A/N: My entry for @corroded-hellfire's This is Music! event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie’s looking at her again.

You can’t blame him; he’d be crazy not to stare at Chrissy Cunningham, clad in her tiny cheerleading uniform with a bouncy blonde ponytail and sugar-sweet giggle. If you just ignore him, act like he isn’t imagining sweeping her off of her feet–

“Do you think I should send her one of those candy gram things?”

Almost instinctively, Dustin’s eyes flicker to you, but he turns back to Eddie before anyone can notice. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he stammers, scrambling for an excuse. “She and Jason, like, just broke up.” 

This information doesn’t deter Eddie in the slightest. “Exactly. She’s probably heartbroken from getting dumped right before Valentine’s Day. I could be her…Freak in Shining Armor.” He grins at his spin on the unwanted nickname, pausing for a half-second before turning to you and asking, “You’re a girl. What do you think?”

The question is almost laughable. What do you think? You think he should stop pining over Chrissy and start seeing you in that same light.

With a painful swallow, you force a strained smile. “If you like her, you should go for it.”

That’s all of the motivation Eddie needs. He slams his palm on the table and proudly declares, “All right, I’m doin’ it.”

Tears bite at your lash line as he strides across the cafeteria over to where the student council has set up the candy gram booth. You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Dustin offering you a sympathetic look.

“He’s an idiot,” he says, low enough so that his words are inaudible to other Hellfire members. “He’ll figure it out one day, but you shouldn’t sit around waiting for it to happen.”

Logic tells you that he’s right, but moving on is easier said than done. Especially when he’s one of your closest friends.

Determined to avoid any inquiring from the other guys, you do your best to assimilate into their conversation about beating this week’s campaign.

Chrissy received Eddie’s candy gram on Valentine’s Day. To his dismay, she also got one from Jason Carver. 

“Of course she went back to him,” Eddie mutters, tossing his tin lunch box on the cafeteria table with a harsh clang. He heaves a sigh and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you with his big, beautiful eyes. “Am I gonna be alone forever?”

“Probably.” You muster a tense laugh and brush a tendril of his hair off of your cheek. “Maybe you can try sending out a message in a bottle and see if anyone bites.”

He harrumphs and slumps over, burying his face in his palms. “She told me she ‘appreciates my friendship.’” He shakes his head. “Fucking humiliating.”

The irony of his statement is too much to bear, and you slip away from the table with a half-hearted excuse about needing to study for the history test you have next period. 

The walk to the library feels like it takes decades, silent tears falling as soon as you find an empty table among the stacks of books. 

Chrissy wanted Jason the way Eddie wanted Chrissy, which was the same way you wanted Eddie. 

And no one wanted you. 

A few minutes pass before Jeff slides into the seat next to you. “We’re in the same history class. Figured it would make your lie more believable if I had to study, too.” He shrugs. “Plus, I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t believe you, you know he doesn’t. Embarrassment is written all over your face, both at your abrupt exit from the cafeteria and your pathetic crush on Eddie. 

Jeff takes a deep breath. “Look, Eddie doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Seems pretty obvious to me that he wants Chrissy,” you say wryly, twirling a pen between your fingers. 

“No…I mean, yeah. But that’s because she’s, like, safe.”

You scoff. “Asking out the Queen of Hawkins High is safe?” 

“Sounds ridiculous, I know, but hear me out.” Jeff leans in a bit closer so he can whisper to you. “She’s not part of our group, so he doesn’t have to worry about constantly hanging out with her. Plus, she’s nice enough to not publicly destroy his ego. I’m sure she didn’t tell Jason about the candy gram, or else he would’ve announced it to the whole school by now.”

You nod in reluctant agreement. 

“And speaking of that jackass,” Jeff continues, “how many times have they broken up and gotten back together?” 

“Too many to count.” Their relationship is like one of the novelas you watch when you’re stuck at home with a fever. 

“Exactly.” Jeff exhales. “Chrissy paid a little bit of attention to Eddie because she wanted some weed for a party, and now he’s head over heels for her. Because he can be. Because her rejection stings a little, but it’s nothing compared to how being rejected by you would feel.”

Wiping at your tear-dampened cheeks, you shake your head. “I don’t think he cares about being rejected by me.”

He mumbles something under his breath but doesn’t say another word until the bell rings, and the two of you walk to class together. 

Thank God you don’t actually have a test today; you wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to answer a single question. All you think about is what Jeff had implied: that Eddie does like you but is afraid to ruin your friendship.

You brush off the idea as ridiculous. Why would Eddie choose you over the gorgeous head cheerleader?

Uneasiness builds within you until it’s impossible to ignore, and you scrawl a note in the back of your composition notebook before you can fully think it through.

Eddie–

I’m sorry that Chrissy turned you down. Trust me when I say that I know what it’s like to feel unwanted by the person you want the most. It sucks, but you’ll move on and realize that she was the one who missed out, not you.

You sign your name and add a P.S. Fuck Valentine’s Day for good measure, folding the paper in fourths and slipping it into his locker between class periods. Not quite a confession, but it’ll do.

Eddie’s waiting by your locker after the last bell rings, scraping a front tooth against his bottom lip and fiddling with something. As you get closer, you realize that something is your note.

“Who is he?” Eddie demands to know, sighing impatiently when you raise your brows in confusion. “This mystery guy who doesn’t want you. Who is he?”

“No one. It’s fine,” you say quickly, refusing to make eye contact with him as you twist open the lock. “It was just to let you know that you’re not alone in this, okay?”

He shakes his head and chuckles tersely. “Nah, not okay. I’ve gotta kick his ass.” He shuffles from foot to foot, already anticipating a fight.

“Well, you can’t.”

“And why not?” Eddie scoffs. “I know I’m scrawny, but I’m pretty damn scr–”

“Because you’d be kicking your own ass!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your blood runs cold and your pulse thuds in your ears when you realize what you’ve said. “I’m sorry. That was too much, especially with what happened with Chrissy today.”

You start to leave, but you’re tugged back in place by his gentle grasp on your wrist. “Follow me,” he murmurs. He makes a beeline for the Hellfire room with you right on his heels. As soon as you walk in, he closes the door. “Repeat that? Because I don’t think I heard you right.”

“You’re the guy who doesn’t want me,” you manage through the lump in your throat, “and it’s okay, because we can’t help who we like and who we don’t. I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that.” 

You’re rambling, and you tuck your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from talking yourself in circles.

Silence seeps into the room, the only noise is the hum from the fluorescent lights overhead. Finally, Eddie speaks again. “Do you know why I asked you to join Hellfire?”

You swivel your head back and forth in a definite no.

“Yeah, I tried to keep it that way,” he says with an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “So, um, I kinda had a massive crush on you. And I figured that we’d get to know each other here and then I’d ask you out or whatever, but I kept chickening out. So…there ya have it.” He shifts his hands as if to say ta-da.

“And now you like Chrissy.” Out with the old, in with the new.

Eddie takes a small step closer, one ring-clad hand taking yours. “Not the way I like you,” he breathes, his other thumb tracing a faint line over your jaw. “Not even close.”

You close the gap between you, tilting your head so your lips meet his. The fear that he’ll hesitate or turn his head altogether disappears as soon as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. His hand tucks behind your ear, and he leaves it there until you both have to break away for air.

The two of you wear matching smiles, shy but relieved. Eddie leans in to kiss you once again, only to be interrupted by the rest of the club’s musings.

“Took them long enough.”

“Seriously, I thought we were just gonna have to watch them pine over each other forever.”

“Crap, do you think they can hear us?”  

“Yeah, shit-heads, we can hear you,” Eddie calls out with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

--

[scoops-aboy86]

Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.

But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.

So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)

And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"

Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.

Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.

The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.

Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.

By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."

Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

[loveinhawkins]

Bit by bit, Eddie finds out that Steve Harrington has many in-jokes going on. He falls in love a little more every time he discovers a new one.

Some are self-explanatory: Robin and Steve quipping obscure ice-cream orders back and forth to refer to annoying customers of yore at Scoops Ahoy. There’s other times where Steve will whisper, “Muppet,” and Robin will crack up, and Eddie will just look on with bemused affection. But he doesn’t need to know the context to get it: to see the way their eyes sparkle with mirth, how they shake with almost silent laughter, falling against each other in a diner booth—like siblings wholly unable to keep a straight face during a family dinner.

In school, Eddie came to know in-jokes as a source of exclusion, all too aware of eye rolls in the cafeteria, snide whispers. Oh, you weren’t there, you wouldn’t get it.

This is something far different. Something precious.

He understands without needing to be told; there are stories he does not know yet, but he can read them in Steve’s voice when he laughs and calls Dustin, “Roast Beef,” when he puts on funny voices, singing along to the radio to make Max laugh, when he echoes random phrases in a conversation and Lucas snorts, and it’s so clear that everything’s come from years of knowledge, years of friendship, this rich tapestry of knowing smiles.

Eddie loves it all. Feels so goddamn lucky that he’s here to witness it, to even be the slightest part of it—wants to reach back in the past, find the Steve who’s just starting the story of a lifetime and say you will love these kids, and I will love you for it, your past, your present, your future. Steve Harrington, it’s a fucking privilege to know you.

The first time Eddie is given an in-joke of his very own, is such a tiny thing: bored out of his mind, making pleasantries with the Wheelers, and Ted makes a passing comment from his armchair about how so-and-so from down the street has bought an RV, but they don’t know a damn thing about how to drive it, let alone park it on their driveway.

Steve smirks behind his hand, catches Eddie’s eye with a fleeting wink.

Oh, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know where to start with that, Mr Wheeler,” Steve says, voice level, but Eddie can hear the secret giggle, just for him.

“Well,” Eddie says, “maybe if someone got it started for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, grinning. “Maybe.”

He briefly nudges Eddie in the side, a soft brush. Warm skin. Leaning into each other, sharing a secret.

Here’s something no-one else knows. It’s our little joke. Our story. Ours.

And oh, Eddie wants. He wants.

[withlovemark]

all of the moments that led me to you. (ii)

warning(s): steve's black eye (again), mentions of: gun, car crash, death.

pairing: steve x reader

words: 6.3k+

summary: a continuation of moments with steve harrington. takes place in season three.

an: first, thank u so so much for over 1k hearts on aotm pt 1 and to be loved. it’s unbelievable to me that that many people have read my writing. i’ve been writing and posting my stories on here a long time and this helps me feel like i’ve been growing, even just a little 🥹

second, i'm so sorry this took so long. i have no other excuse except the devil himself - mr. writer's block. thank whoever the hell is controlling my sim that they got rid of him (at least for now) and now i'm finally here to share this with you

hope you like it <3

-

yr. 1984

yr. 1985

i. robin’s game of you rule/you suck, intercepting russians and suzie 

quickly walking into scoops ahoy, you finally catch up to the curly headed kid, just in time to witness your favorite boys reunite through a silly greeting. 

you let them have their moment before finally making your presence known, “hey there sailor,” you greet steve with a quick hug, his frame enveloping you. 

he whines at the nickname, knowing how much you enjoy the little blue sailor outfit on him, mind wandering back to when you first saw him in the get up. 

“oh. my. god,” you gasp, a hand to your mouth, trying to hold your laughter in as he makes his way back into his room, after finally successfully putting on his “uniform.” 

“don’t say a word,” he warned, hands on his hips. 

“steve harrington. you are sooo…” he raises his eyebrows, lips morphing into a thin line, daring you to finish your sentence. 

“…pretty,” you giggle, closing the distance to adjust the sailor tie around his neck. he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat, maybe two. 

“it's not TOO bad, girls LOVE a man in uniform,” you tease, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. 

a playful smirk on your lips as his sailor hat comes in contact with your face in a matter of seconds causing a bubble of laughter to ring in his ear. 

a sound that has grew to be his favorite.

“sorry we came unannounced,” your voice brings him back to the ice cream parlor.

“he got home from summer camp today,” you explain, motioning to dustin who was now seated calmly in a booth,  “and immediately asked me to drive him here so he could see you,” you grin, steve returning the expression. 

“i think you’re his favorite,” a pout grows on your lips, eliciting laughter from the boy who you now call your best friend. the two of you being glued to the hip since that night in 1984.

days with steve harrington included sneaking into movies, butter popcorn in hand; road trips to nowhere and everywhere all at the same time; late night conversations that lasted into the a.m., a judgment free zone.

“well, yeah, i think we’ve known that a while ago,” he teases, earning a playful shove from you. 

“it’s ok though, i missed that little bugger too and there’s a new ice cream flavor i want you to try,” steve molds his hand into yours as he hurriedly leads you in front of the counter. the warmth of his hand disappearing as he made his way behind it.

you greet robin a quick hello and she acknowledges your presence by playfully saluting, making you smile. 

“here, try it,” steve snaps your attention back to him, placing what seemed to be a cup of just plain old vanilla ice cream in front of you. upon further inspection you notice it has chunks of something in it. 

“i don’t think ice cream should have that?,” you comment, eyeing it suspiciously. 

“just try it!,” he says, nudging the ice cream closer to your face. 

“alright, alright!,” you giggle, finally bringing the spoon between your lips. steve awaits your verdict, slightly bouncing up and down in excitement, eyebrows dancing.

“oh…wow,” your eyes widened, sparkling. tastebuds exploding at their new discovery. 

he knew you’d like it. 

“are those cookies?” you wonder aloud.

“mhmm, brand new flavor, cookies and cream, who would’ve thought huh?,” playfully raising his eyebrows as he stole the spoon from you, taking a bite out of your ice cream. 

“how are things with laura?,” you bring up nonchalantly, stealing the spoon back from him. 

“ugh, don’t even bring her up,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing another spoon from behind the counter while the two of you mildly attack the sweet cup. 

“another bad date?,” you concluded, eyes focused on scooping up a spoonful of your newfound favorite ice cream flavor. 

“we had absolutely nothing to talk about! i swear we just sat there and ate in silence the whole time,” he dramatically testified, shrugging his shoulders. 

“was the sex good at least?,” you asked, his face cringing. 

“didn’t have sex with her,” he shrugged,  “i just went home after and crashed, i think i really am losing my game,” he jokes. 

you know him well enough to know that he hasn’t been feeling as confident as he used to be. you think back to the night when steve confessed to you that he wasn’t able to get into the only college he applied to. on top of that,  his dad cut half off his allowance and he’s now, as he would describe it, “stuck working at a job that pays $3 per hour.”

all in all, steve felt like he had hit rock bottom. 

“how about you? how are things with isaac?,” steve smirked, changing the topic before you got to ask him if he was ok. 

“eh,” you replied. 

“ehhh?.” he mimics, urging you to go on. 

“not gonna go anywhere, very cocky, talks too much…and he’s a lot better when he doesn’t speak,” you cringed, remembering the way the boy spoke about basketball and cars the whole time, not at all caring about any of your interests. 

“maybe we should’ve switched dates?,” steve teases, head tilted.

you tuck away his golden locks that had fallen out of place and he finds himself holding a breath, eyes focused on your movements.

an action that was so familiar to him yet, lately, has been bringing up a weird feeling that he chooses to ignore.

“maybe we should have,” you playfully agreed, slowly retracting your hand, snapping steve back to reality. 

“anyways, thank you for my new favorite ice cream flavor,” you approved of the cookies and cream. 

“now, i have a favor to ask,” you grinned sheepishly. 

“hm?” he hums, grabbing a napkin and wiping away the bits of ice cream that have stained your lips. 

“can you watch dustin for the rest of the week? i have a bunch of cheerleading practices,” you explain, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, voice going a tad bit higher than usual. 

“yeah, yeah, you don’t have to do that,” he shakes his head, smile on his lips, “i got it all handled here, go ahead and just leave me with the lil monster,” he teases dramatically, making you roll your eyes playfully before beaming at him. 

“thank you, you’re the best!” you praised, lips planting a soft kiss upon his crimson cheeks, expressing your gratitude. 

he ignores the way time slowed down for a second, that fleeting surge of electricity that danced within him, igniting a spark that he quickly brushes off.

“i know,” he winks as you swiftly turn around, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the ice cream parlor. 

“stay safe!,” he shouts at your retreating figure.

“yes, dad!,” you tease, his face morphing into disgust. your laughter rings in his ears as you exit scoops ahoy right after lovingly messing up dustin’s pretty curls, an annoyed groan coming from the younger boy. 

“i can’t believe it, harrington,” the sound of robin’s voice captures steve’s full attention, taking his eyes off of your retreating figure. 

giving his coworker a pointed look, steve cluelessly wonders what she’s about to say when she pulled out her whiteboard and finally drew one tally mark under ‘you rule’

he rolls his eyes at robin, like he couldn’t believe what she just did, “hate to break it to you but i wasn’t flirting with her,” he defended himself.  

“huh, you sure about that, loverboy?,” robin snickered, clearly not convinced with the golden boy’s answer. 

“yes buckley, i’m sure,” steve deadpanned, “she’s my best friend alright so just…just erase that,” he mumbled, not entirely sure he believes his own words. 

it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before…he has.

but falling for someone is never a good idea. he has firsthand experience that investing in love can be dangerous and if his worst fears happen, if the love unravels and crumbles down, he knows all too well that you will never get that same person back. 

and falling for his best friend? it’s not a risk he’s willing to take. 

he repeats to himself, ‘he must not have feelings for you. he simply doesn’t.’ these words continue to echo, living in his mind, until he believes them as truth. 

“well i think she could be your suzie,” dustin pipes in, quickly introducing himself to robin. 

“m-my what?,” steve inquired, the famous hand on his hip stance appearing. 

“your. suzie.” dustin pronounced slowly like that was going to help steve understand what he was talking about, “like how i have my suzie,” he adds. 

“and what the hell is a suzie?,” the older boy scoffed. 

“my girlfriend,” steve’s eyes widened at the boy’s proclamation, refusing to believe what he just heard. there’s no way dustin henderson has it all figured out before him, especially in the ladies department.

“it’s not important right now,” dustin says, shaking his head,  “i need to talk to you,” he says urgently. 

“we’re talking right now,” steve points out the obvious. 

“no,” dustin glares, “just you,” he continues, eyes glancing towards robin who just shrugged, not caring, as the two boy’s made their way back to dustin’s booth. 

“i intercepted a secret russian communication,” he confessed to the older boy.

believe it or not, those words were music to steve’s ears.

‘finally, he’ll be of use again,’ he thinks to himself as they start decoding the russian’s riddles. 

-

3 days later

the boys have vanished without a trace.

normally, steve would swing by after work, or when he was off – which you knew he was supposed to be, considering he gave you a copy of his schedule, – he would pick you up from cheerleading practices. 

dustin was also nowhere to be seen and the uncertainty of their whereabouts fills you with growing concern. 

there were no knocks at your window at midnight. no sound of an engine revving or the horn honking to greet you in the morning. not even the static sound from dustin’s talkie had made its appearance.

the last you heard from them was at the ice cream parlor. so after today’s practice, you were on a mission.  

you rush to the mall, hoping to see both of them devouring ice cream, ready to hear their half-ass apologies on why they went radio silent only to be face to face with two unfamiliar employees behind the counter, robin also absent from the scene.

quickly, you drove to steve’s house, the maroon vehicle nowhere to be seen causing you to reroute your drive to dustin’s house - still nothing.

this puts an end to your speculations – the boys are in trouble.

and they left you here with nothing but silence and the fear that’s rising in the pit of your stomach. 

you think back to where the kids usually were this summer and found yourself running down the wheelers’ basement, after mr. wheeler kindly let you in, only to reveal everyone else was already there…except for your two main culprits. 

seven heads turn towards you, your entrance hushing their conversations, “have any of you seen steve and dustin?,” you ask as they all shake their head no.

“well,” max spoke up, hope glimmering in your eyes, “el and i saw him at the mall,” she revealed.

“when was that?,” you inquire.

“like, 2 days ago,” she quickly replies, making you groan in exasperation. 

“hey,” nancy snaps you out of your despair, “they’ll be okay, it’s steve and dustin, they’re just probably out doing something ridiculous,” offering a smile, failing to comfort you. 

bless her but the only thing you could think about was how the last time those two did something “ridiculous,” they almost died, making you sink deeper into concern. 

“yeah, steve’s probably just helping him talk to his imaginary girlfriend,” mike chimes in as you remember the girl dustin briefly told you about when you drove him to starcourt mall. 

‘that was plausible,’ you convince yourself, finally nodding and accepting their assumptions. 

“we have bigger things to worry about,” jonathan said, directing the group’s attention back to their previous topic as they fill you in on the mind flayer — a mrs. driscoll, a tom and bruce, and a billy hargrove acting as its host. 

you just hoped to god that steve and dustin really are just looking for suzie because if they were in any kind of danger, you might kill them yourself. 

for now, you’d just have to play on this team. 

ii. starcourt mall and the TODFTHR 

starcourt mall in its after hours has a tauntingly beautiful presence, its hallways bathed in the soft glow of neon lights that crackle with static, creating an ambiance that breathes an almost palpable energy, as if the very essence of the mall comes alive in the quietude of the night. 

dustin finally radioed in a while ago with another code red, making goosebumps rise throughout your body. “code red” was definitely the last thing you wanted to hear. 

all the group could make out from him were the words, “open the gate,” and you knew this was all connected to everything you’ve seen in the past couple of hours. 

“where the hell is he?,” mike whispers as max shushes him and you silently thank her in your head. 

the group is extra attentive, everyone looking around in hopes they’ll find something out of place. 

finally, a faint click reaches your ears, followed by hushed footsteps. you think you’ve imagined it until nancy voices your suspicions, “what was that?,” she whispers. you feel the blood draining from your face, heart racing, afraid of the events that could transpire. 

following the sound, the group ends up at the second floor — right above the food court.

you spot the four men first, each one of them with their arms raised, gun aiming at a food stall. 

eleven immediately steps in making the car alarm go off then proceeding to throw it at the armed men. she leaves you stunned and amazed, like she's been doing the whole day, and you can’t help but send her a smile of gratitude. 

after a second or two, the two familiar heads finally emerged, eyes finding the golden ones you’ve grown accustomed to, all beaten up and bruised. 

rushing towards them, you pull dustin into a tight hug first, exclaiming “where the hell have you been?….i’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

“i’m okay, i’m okay! i promise! im sorry,” he apologizes as you quickly look him up and down, your protective side kicking in, checking for any signs of injury until he finally slipped from your hold, reuniting with his friends. forcing you to look up at the beaten up, beautiful boy in front of you. 

“steve-,” you whisper, before running up to him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. the beating of his heart against your ears, and in that moment, you feel like you can breathe again. 

he holds you just as tight, visibly relieved that you’re unharmed. as he exhales a sigh of relief, you pull away slightly, inspecting the mark around his eye. soft hands ghosting over the bruise that was already starting to turn purple.

“didn’t i tell you to stop getting into fights?,” voice laced with concern as you fought to hold back tears, overwhelmed by the rush of comfort having him by your side brings.

“i know it doesn’t look like it, but i actually won,” he smiled, tenderly brushing away the tears in the corner of your eye before they could spill. 

“what happened?,” you asked. 

a light cough from behind him breaks you out of your embrace, slightly pushing the boy away from you and finally taking in robin’s presence.

their matching appearance doesn’t go unnoticed.

“we found a secret lair, got drugged by russians and then they beat up pretty boy over here for some answers,” they share a smile. 

for a second, you feel your heart twinge. you’re not too sure whether it’s because the information robin shared painted a disturbing image in your mind or if it was because she was there and you weren’t. 

you can’t allow yourself to dwell on it as the group finally reunites, connecting all the pieces together and figuring out the next step. 

—

“oh screw tod, steve’s her daddy now,” steve says excitedly, as he got into the driver seat of the TODFTHER. 

robin and erica comment on his use of referencing himself in the third person and the word “daddy,” causing you to laugh as you sat in the passenger seat. robin, erica and dustin squeezing in the back.

driving off with the scoops troops, you make your way to dustin’s tower. 

“suzie must be pretty special, huh? for you to make this tower just for her,” you finally get a chance to interrogate the young boy, earning an excited nod from him and a groan from everyone else, making you feel like an outsider in their very obvious inside joke. 

“he described her as scientifically perfect and has yet to shut up about her,” robin fills you in, obviously tired of the topic at hand.

“i mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect but suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be,” dustin added, causing more annoyed groans to slip from everyone’s lips except yours.

“she sounds made up to me. she sound made up to you?,” erica sassed back, resulting in an eye roll from the young boy. 

“steve, y/n, you believe me right?,” he says, sitting forward, glancing between you and steve. 

“of course,” you quickly assured him while steve remained silent, before finally nodding his head along with you. 

“you hesitated,” dustin points out, a pout on his lip, “why did you hesitate, steve?”

“i didn’t hesitate!” he defends himself, his voice reaching a higher pitch. 

the older boy turned towards you, asking for your help but all you could offer him was a shrug, a smile playing on your lips.

dustin impatiently repeats his question, finally getting his answer, “i don’t know man, no one is hotter than phoebe cates!,” steve bursts, earning a look of confusion from you and a whine from the younger boy, giggles bursting from the two girls sitting in the back. 

you definitely missed out on a lot. and you realize how much you hate it. 

“left. turn left.” dustin said suddenly, prying you away from your thoughts.

“there’s not a road here,” steve points out the obvious. 

“turn left! now!” the younger boy yells urgently.

“jesus! hang on!” steve yelled before finally making a harsh left, your hands immediately going up your face, acting as a shield against the tree branches coming in contact with the vehicle. 

“oh my god, where the hell are we going!?.” you shout through all the ruckus. 

“just keep going!,” dustin continues with his unreasonable directions. 

“we’re not gonna make it!,” robin yells from the back and you see determination flash in steve’s face.

“yes we are!, come on baby!” he urges TODFTHER to go on until it finally hit its’ limit, leaving the group stuck in the middle of the woods.

“guess, we’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” dustin says. 

“how far is this thing?” erica says, voicing everyone’s annoyance. 

iii. dustin’s tower and an epiphany

it wasn't long until the group finally made it to dustin’s radio tower, finally being able to instruct murray’s next steps.

you were seated on the field with the rest – the calmness before the storm. 

“hey, guys?” steve’s voice causes the group to get up and follow his line of vision. 

starcourt mall’s rapid flickering lights causing panic to rise in the air, dustin immediately runs back to his talkie, trying to radio the others but all that was received was a loud, screeching, monster noise. the younger boy repeatedly tries to get a response but all that was left was static. 

steve makes up his mind, immediately getting up on his feet, ready to run towards the direction of the mall, but before he could get any further, your voice makes its way to his ears, halting his movements.

“where the hell are you going?,” you shot, panic evident in your voice. 

“to get them the hell outta there!,” he exclaimed, adrenaline running through him. you knew you weren’t going to be able to persuade him to stay here with you. but after the past couple of days of thinking you’ve lost him, there’s no way, in hell, he’s leaving you here. 

“i’m going with you,” you announced, already walking towards him. 

“no,” he says sternly, meeting you in the middle, “just stay here, watch the kids,” his eyes pleading with you to obey. 

“robin can watch them,” you countered quickly, reaching out for his hand, fingers fitting in yours perfectly.

“y/n-,” he whispers desperately. hoping you could hear how much he wants you to stay here, where it's safe. 

he can’t keep putting you in dangerous situations just because he wants to play hero. 

“you’re not going without me! i won’t let you!” standing your ground, your hand tightening around his.

steve can’t help but think back to earlier that night, sitting in the tiled bathroom of starcourt mall, robin opposite of him. 

“i just don’t get it,” robin says groggily, slowly coming down from the high and voicing her opinions. 

“what?,” steve looks at her, eyes droopy, mouth slightly agape. 

“you…going on all of these dates,” robin pointed out, “how you don’t realize you have the perfect girl in front of you,” she wonders aloud  he knows she wasn’t talking about herself, especially after she trusted him with her little secret. 

“you don’t think i know that?,” steve says, eyes closing, head slowly coming in contact with the wall behind him, defeated.

“why don’t you do anything about it then?”

“because….because- she’s y/n! and i’m…” he pauses for a second, trying to find a better way to explain it to robin but all he could manage to say was “i’m just steve.”

“well ‘just steve,’ i think you’re pretty cool,” robin compliments him, allowing him to fully strip away the walls, his hidden feelings coming to surface. 

“she has dreams and goals and i know damn well, she’s going to make every single one of those things happen, meanwhile, look at what i’m wearing! look at where i am! sitting on a bathroom floor, drugged!,-”

“hey, what does that say about me,” robin interjects. 

“please, i practically dragged you in here with me,” he continues, “all i do is drag people into chaos….i dragged y/n in this mess too, i can’t continue holding her back,” an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. 

“hm, you don’t have to hold her back, y’know?” robin countered,  have you ever considered being the one to hold her hand and support her through all her ‘dreams and goals’?,” she asks, hopefully giving steve a new perspective. 

“she doesn’t want that,” he says defeatedly.

“have you asked her?” robin questions. steve lets out a sigh before shaking his head no. 

“you’ll never know if you never try, but if you need a little push, if i were her, after everything i’ve seen today, i would’ve left a long time ago,” she says like a prophet. 

those words echo in his ears now and he sees it all clearly. 

you stayed.

you could have left, could have stopped talking to him and walked away forever. yet here you are, gazing at him with pleading eyes, hands in his, hoping he won’t let go.

that fact is evident to him now as he feels your hand tightening around his. 

steve found himself nodding slowly, a blast of realization striking him. you mirrored his gesture, sealing an unspoken agreement – minds and bodies communicating before any words were uttered. 

within the next second, the two of you made your way back to TODFTHER, headed to the mall - together. 

iv. the car crash and neverending story

“holy shit, hoLY SHIT! STEVE-,” you shout, the boy’s foot not leaving the gas as the car continues to accelerate.

steve takes a quick glance at you, “PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON!,” he yells and you quickly obey his order knowing he has no intention of stepping on the brake. 

as soon as he heard the little click, with both hands on the wheel, steve immediately stepped on the gas, the car accelerating at a speed you couldn’t even imagine. you can’t help but hold your breath, scared for the impact you know is about to come. 

in a matter of seconds, TODFTHER crashes into the black car driven by billy hargrove — bursting it into flames. nothing can be heard but the ringing in your ear as you try to refocus. this wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had matching concussions because of billy. 

“are you okay?,” steve immediately inspects you, unbuckling your seatbelt, warm hands gently cupping your cheeks, eyes finding yours. your chest heaving, trying to make sense of how the two of you were still alive. 

as you catch your breath, you look up into his golden eyes, rapid breaths syncing. then, in one swift moment, his lips are on yours, in a quick, passionate kiss. 

well, this is definitely not how steve imagined his first kiss with you.

he pulls away as soon as he registers his actions and you’re left breathless, not at all sure with what happened.

“sorry, i got caught in the moment,” he panics. 

“it’s okay,” you nod still trying to catch your breath. 

you don’t catch the way his eyes lose a little glimmer of hope. he’s about to take back what he said until the mindflayer makes an appearance on top of the building and you both very much snap out of the trance, being reminded that you were still in the middle of the battle. 

nancy directs your attention to her, yelling for your safety. steve immediately jumps out of the car, his warm hands instinctively grabbing yours, making sure you enter the car first. 

silence envelops the vehicle, everyone too afraid to say anything as the haunting size of the creature continues to taunt the group.

it wasn’t until dustin’s voice rang into the air followed by a young girl that everyone finally released the breath they were holding. 

you look at steve with recognition, “suzie,” you say in harmony and he can’t help but be in awe. 

“you’re going to have to say sorry for doubting him,” you tease, making steve chuckle.

he liked that. the fact that you guys can immediately joke around like he didn’t just kiss you after he crashed the car that could’ve caused your deaths. 

suzie-poo and dusty-bun keeps the group entertained, especially when they start singing a duet to never ending story. 

steve looks at you like this is the craziest thing he’s ever heard, the rest of group looking disgusted. 

you can’t help but giggle, quietly singing along to dustin, for only steve to hear, making him shake his head in disbelief. 

“i cant believe she’s real,” steve says after the musical that is probably in the top three most life changing moments in his life and the two of you break out in quiet giggles. 

v. ambulances and “friends?”

the battle was bloody and not everyone came back unscathed. some didn’t come back at all. hopper made a huge sacrifice. billy was dead. 

now everyone was seated in their own ambulances, near star court mall, waiting for clearance. 

you’ve spent the last hour trying to comfort max in her grief. losing billy like that, right in front of her eyes, left her in her thoughts, refusing to talk to anyone. 

the only reason she let you in was because you knew her brother in a different light, unlike the others who has always viewed him as the villain. 

“is it bad that part of me is relieved?,” max quietly whispers like she didn’t even want you to hear it, almost like the guilt of saying it out loud was going to kill her. 

you shake her head no, “grief can present itself in different ways, you don’t have to feel a certain way,” you reassure the younger girl, “just feel what you’re feeling now and take it day by day” you try to comfort her, hoping your words can somehow reach her. 

meanwhile steve was with dustin and robin, sitting in a different ambulance. 

“i kissed her,” steve confessed to the duo.

“you kissed her?” robin and dustin says at the same time. one with pride, the other, shocked. 

“i. kissed. her.” steve repeats, more to affirm himself that it actually happened and it wasn’t just  the drugs that had completely worn off at the time nor was it the concussion he surely had. 

he really kissed you. he knows its true because if he closes his eyes and think about it hard enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips on his. 

“well are you gonna go talk to her about it?,” robin breaks him out of his daydream and the question immediately causes bubbles to rise through his stomach. 

he feels like he's going to throw up. 

“what if i dont?,” he panted, “i did tell her it was just a spur of a moment thing,” he reveals. 

“now, why would you tell her that?” dustin says like a father disappointed in his kid.

“i don’t want to ruin our friendship!” he defends himself, arms flailing in the wind. 

“you already kissed her dumbass, thats like #1 on things not to do to ruin a friendship,” robin points out and he knows there’s no way he was going to win this two to one battle. 

he was going to have to talk to you.

-

“hey,” steve's hushed voice breaks you out of your own thoughts. 

max has left you on your own a while ago, saying she just wanted to be alone. when she was gone, you had a bit of time to process everything as much as you can at the moment. 

“you okay?” steve asks softly. 

giving him a small smile, you pat the empty space beside you, inviting him in your ambulance, “could be better, but yeah…i'm okay, are you?”

he nods, answering your question. “are you sure?... billy is gone,” he mentions cautiously, afraid of how you would react but prepared to offer comfort. 

“well... i do feel sorry for max, she’s the one that lost her brother tonight,” he nods, understanding what you meant. 

billy was long gone for you. surely, not like this — never would you have wanted it to be like this. but he no longer occupies any part of your mind and definitely not your heart. 

“do you know what actually scared me?” you whisper, your breath coming in contact with the cold air. his silence urges you to go on. 

“when i couldn’t find you,” you admit to him and to yourself. 

steve sees everything that he needs to see in your eyes – love, fear, a hint of sadness. 

he has the urge to pull you into him, to feel your lips like he did earlier that night. but before he does, he knows he has to come clean. he has to do it right this time. 

“i have to tell you something,” he says urgently. 

“if something like tonight ever happens again, god i hope it doesn’t, but if it did and i never got to say this, i would hate myself forever,” he rambles, trying to buy time. he knows that after he says what he’s about to say then things with you will take a turn. 

“you're scaring me steve…what is it?” you ask, softly placing your hand on top of his shaking leg, hoping to somehow help him calm down. he takes a second to gather his composure.

to make sure he says the words the way you deserve to hear them – honest, sweet, gentle. 

“y/n, i am in love with you,” he confesses into the night air, soft brown eyes locked on yours.

you stare at him, eyes slightly widening, registering his words. 

for steve, time seemed to stretch endlessly, it could've been three seconds or three minutes but but it was unquestionably the longest silence he had ever endured. 

when you still haven’t said anything, he realizes he has made a mistake and knows he has to fix it, immediately.  

“a-and you don't have to say it back!, i'm not asking for anything!, i mean it would be nice but i'm totally okay with just being fr-” he fumbles over his words, hoping that dustin could find some sort of way to teleport back in time to prevent this confession from happening. but then he feels it — soft lips pressing against his own, shutting him up ever so sweetly.

his body responds instinctively, returning the gentle kiss, eyes fluttering close. this was how it was supposed to go. 

“please don’t say you're okay with us just being friends,” you tease, finally easing his racing thoughts. 

he chuckles softly, “i am… i am not okay with us just being friends,.” he admits, mirroring your expression. 

“good.” 

that one word was all it took for all of steve's worries to fade, happily pulling you closer until there are no spaces left to fill. 

-

bonus: pretty privilege (3 months later)

walking into family video, you gently drop steve’s hand, immediately missing the warmth it provided and causing a tiny frown to appear on your boyfriend’s face. 

“hey keith,” you greeted the boy behind the counter sweetly. 

“h-hi y/n, what can i do for you?,” he was grinning from ear to ear and you knew this was going to be easy. 

“do you think,” you start, voice going an octave higher, an innocent glow in your eyes, “you maybe have two job positions open, right now?,” you finish, a hand placed softly, and very calculatedly on his arm. you were completely taking advantage of his “secret” crush on you. 

steve glances between the two of you in disbelief. 

meanwhile, the boy behind the counter was a blushing mess, mumbling a “god, y-you’re so pretty,” and steve has to physically hold himself back from kicking the air. 

keith leans over the counter, “yeah, i’m-” he starts to say, but before he could end his sentence, steve’s hands wrapped protectively around yours, dragging you out of sight and in between one of the aisles. 

“what are you doing?,” he quietly blurted once the two of you were out of sight. his arms crossing against his chest, biceps protruding, eyebrows going up. 

“trying to get you and robin a job,” you reminded him of the reason why the three of you were even in this store in the first place. 

“yeah but what’s with the cute voice and the eyes!,” he points out, “oh keith! do you have a job opening right now?,” he bats his eyelashes, mimicking you, completely appalled by the way you used your cute voice that was only supposed to be reserved for him. 

“okay first of all, i do not sound like that. second, it’s pretty privilege steve and you have to know when to use it,” he rolls his eyes at your answer. 

“yes, you do sound like that!” he whines like a five year old child, “...omygosh keith you’re so manly!, you have a job, you-,” he continues mocking. 

“steve harrington,” you cut him off, “are you jealous?,” you accuse, holding back your smile. 

“i don’t get jealous,” he scoffs, an absurd expression on his face like he couldn’t believe you even suggested that. 

“really? because you’re looking pretty green right now,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“y/n it’s physically impossible for people to turn green,” he rolls his eyes. you ignore the use of your name.

“it’s a metaphor,” you tease. 

“you're a metaphor,” he mocks and you can’t stand it anymore, he’s acting too cute. 

“you're cute when you’re jealous,” 

“you really shouldn't be though,” you continue.

“yeah i know...its just keith,”

“no, its because i’m all yours, steve harrington.” 

in an instant, all annoyance melts away from him and you know you won. your hands instinctively thread behind his neck, grabbing a hold of his curls, a routine you’re now all too familiar with but could never get enough of. 

the taste of strawberry chapstick mingles with spearmint. steve senses your smile against his lips, pulling you closer as his hands encircle your waist, deepening the kiss. soft moans escape your lips, audible only to him. 

he craves more of you, currently wishing you were alone in the comfort of his room, his car, or anywhere but here, in the middle of all these vhs tapes. 

“ehem,” robin’s cough breaks the two of you apart, making you jump.

quickly wiping your lips, you push steve away, taking notice of the lipstick that was now painted on him before sending robin an apologetic smile.

it’s all too easy to get lost in the boy beside you. 

“are you lovebirds done or should i go watch a movie first?,” she says sarcastically. she was honestly over all the lip locking. it was cute at first but the honeymoon phase is now starting to tire the rest of the group. 

“well, you could-” steve starts. 

you quickly jab him in the stomach, shutting him up. “sorry,” you smile sheepishly at robin, “yes, we’re done.”

robin chuckles, “whatever, i got us the job” she states, ready to get out of there. 

“how?,” steve asks, head tilting to the side. 

“told him that steve’s a real chick magnet and he’ll attract a lot of customers...especially hot babes,” she shrugs like it didn’t take any work. 

“ahh,” you nod slowly, agreeing, then redirecting your focus back to steve.

“see. pretty privilege.” you point out, making steve chuckle, his fingers naturally wrapping around yours as the three of you finally walk out of the store. 

and no, you don’t miss the way he looks back at keith with a smirk.

-

an: i will not promise a next year this time because in all honesty, i got nothing but moment titles. if i do write one, it will just be randomly posted one day lol.

thank you for reading! and if you were here when i first posted part one (exactly a year ago), extra love to you<3

please feel free to drop your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc, in my inbox <3 (anons are welcomed!)

[steddie-there]

They don't acknowledge it.

When Steve and Eddie share a bed - which, after that first nightmare-fueled middle-of-the-night phone call a few weeks after spring break, that first quiet "Come over," happens increasingly often until there's hardly a night they can't be found together - they don't acknowledge it.

They don't talk about how, though they start on either side of the bed (a decent space between them if they're in Steve's, elbows knocking if they're in Eddie's), it only takes a few minutes of anxious wakefulness before they tuck themselves together, arms wrapped tight and legs tangled.

It's just an unspoken understanding that Eddie sleeps better with Steve's arms curled around him, that Steve can't sleep without his palm over Eddie's heart, the rhythmic proof that Eddie is still alive beating into his hand.

So they don't acknowledge it.

Not when Steve starts pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head as they settle in, or when Eddie begins bringing Steve's hand to his lips before placing it back over his own heart.

And they don't acknowledge it when it starts to bleed over into their waking hours. When sitting next to each other on the couch during movie nights becomes Steve leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder becomes Eddie curled up on top of Steve, their eyes trained on the tv but their fingers tangled together on Steve’s chest.

When Eddie's regular visits to Family Video start and end with a hug that lingers maybe a little longer than strictly necessary and Eddie drapes himself over Steve's back to look at something in the magazine he's reading and they aren't more than an arm's length from each other the whole time Eddie is there.

When Robin sends Steve a raised eyebrow stare across the diner table, Eddie pressed against his side in the booth opposite her. She kicks Steve's leg under the table when he doesn't respond and he kicks her back, raises an eyebrow of his own that says not now.

And so they don't acknowledge it.

They don't acknowledge it until the sleepover when the kids beg Steve and Eddie to stay downstairs with them, to not retreat to Steve's room, to actually be a part of the sleepover like Robin and Nancy whispering in the corner, like Jonathan and Argyle giggling by the fireplace. When the combined forces of Erica's, El's, and Max's puppy dog eyes have him grumblingly setting up another sleeping area for him and Eddie. When Eddie smirks at him and knocks their shoulders together and Steve shrugs with a grin of his own that says I've got a soft spot for my girls, so sue me.

They don't acknowledge it until, after those few minutes of laying still next to each other, Eddie rolls into Steve's arms and Steve presses his lips to the side of Eddie's head and Eddie tugs Steve's hand to his lips and Dustin, observant and tactful as ever, asks, "What, are you two, like, dating now?"

There's a beat of silence before several muffled thumps and Dustin's, "Hey, ow, that hurt, jeez, it was just a question," sound from across the room, both Will and Lucas having kicked him while El smacked his arm. Max's hissed, "You can't just ask people that, Dustin, what the hell," has Robin and Nancy stifling giggles behind their hands.

Meanwhile, after a stiff, frozen moment, Eddie turns to catch Steve's eye and quietly asks, "Are we - ?" at the same time that Steve murmurs, "Do you - ?" They pause, only to speak in sync again when Steve answers, "I mean - " and Eddie says, "If you - "

They pause, matching shy smiles on their faces. Eddie pulls a strand of hair over his mouth, hiding behind it, before taking a deep breath and answering both their questions. "Yeah," he says.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, and the hope in it has Eddie squeezing the fingers still in his grasp.

"Yeah," he says, smiling softly.

"Okay," Steve sighs happily. He pulls Eddie's hair aside, gently presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

Eddie leans into it with a happy sigh of his own. Then he calls across the room, "Hey, Henderson."

The whisper-fight across the room immediately stills as they all turn to Eddie.

"Yeah, we're dating."

For a moment, it feels like everyone is holding their breath, then Dustin says, "Oh. Okay," and Robin calls out, "Congrats, Dingus," and the conversation gradually drifts to another topic.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, nuzzling into the space between his shoulder and neck. Eddie turns, just a little, just enough for Steve to lean down and kiss him, soft, chaste. Eddie leans into it, presses their foreheads together when they part, then settles back into Steve's hold.

"Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve."

Tomorrow, they both know, there will be more to say. Questions to answer. Explanations to give. But, for now, this is all the acknowledgment they need.

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson (it has a title y'all!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Nervous excitement has Steve out of his bed 25 minutes before his alarm goes off to wake him. It’s not unusual on game days. He gathers ingredients in the kitchen until he hears Robin’s alarm, and then he starts making both their breakfast smoothies.

She fumbles down the hallway a few moments later with her eyes still closed, takes the cup from him, and sits in the middle of their living room floor.

“Pilates today? Or did you get a workout in at the show last night?” She asks after a few sips, and Steve joins her near their mats.

“It’s a tradition, can’t go changing shit now.” He teases, laughing as she throws her head back with a tired groan. Then she’s hauling herself to her bedroom to grab a hoodie.

They exercise on the balcony, like always, but keep it light. Steve tries to get plenty of stretching in on game days, making sure he’s loose and limber before he hits the ice. After about 30 minutes, Robin’s teeth are chattering in the cool morning air, so he calls it, and they head back inside. He gathers his gear while Robin showers, and then they make their way to United.

Steve heads to the locker room to gear up, manages to finish a whole bottle of water before he hits the rink. He takes a few slow laps around the rink as the rest of the team starts to roll in, runs through a few drills on his own before team practice starts.

They keep things minimal on game days; sprints and passes, shots on goal. Steve does a final lap backwards around the rink, before clearing off to the locker room to finish putting on his uniform while the other team takes the ice for their own practice. 

As he refills his water bottle, he gets whacked in the shin with the body of a hockey stick. He watches it happen, feels an echo of the impact on his shin guard, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Max.

“Hello to you, too.” He says through a little smile. She rolls her eyes, but smiles back at him.

“They’re here.” She says, in an ominous tone, despite her smile. “You guys seemed to hit it off last night, I’m glad you didn’t scare him away with your weirdness.” 

“I’m not weird, you guys are weird.” He mumbles back, kicking the stick from her hand but catching it before it hits the ground. “Last night was fun. I just hope he doesn’t hate the game as much as I think he’s going to.”

“Awfully concerned about him having a good time.” She leans in closer to him to tease, and while he feels his ears get hot, he shoves the hockey stick back into her arms and walks back toward his locker. “Dustin is working in the AV booth tonight, so be prepared for a lot of Eddie on the big screen.”

“You overestimate how much attention I pay to the overhead.” He replies, rolling his eyes and taking a big gulp of water. 

He hadn’t exactly considered the consequences of Eddie actually coming to the game. He was bound to draw a lot of attention, but what would that turn into? Steve had, smartly, elected to stay off the internet after he’d gotten home last night, and he hadn’t bothered to check social media before coming in. He was sure there were pictures and videos of him at the show floating around, insinuating things beyond what they actually meant. He was just as sure that there was at least one person who had taken to their feeds to report that Eddie and Steve had hung out after the show; never mind the fact that everyone else was there. Never mind the fact that they weren’t alone. 

Except they had spent most of the night alone. Other than a few interruptions, their time at Fatpour had mostly consisted of Eddie and Steve sitting at a high-top table close to the bar, munching on snacks and talking about everything and nothing and whatever crossed their minds. Eddie insisted he was going to make a playlist for Steve, and Steve offered to teach Eddie how to ice skate. And it felt… nice. It had been a while since Steve had that with anyone.

Max just moves on, reminding Steve of which stretches he needs to do now that he’s in his gear, and the coach and captain both give speeches in the locker room, before everyone moves out to the rink. They take the ice as the announcer reads off their name, and Steve taps his stick with the right wing who stakes up next to him.

He glances around, chewing on his mouth guard absently. A part of him knows that Robin and Eddie and whoever else from CC made the trip to the game are in one of the boxes around the upper level of the area, but he hadn’t asked which one when he had briefly texted with Eddie this morning, and now it was too late. But, he figures it’s probably for the best. Not knowing where to look keeps him from running the risk of sparking more speculation about nothing.

______

Even having heeded Steve’s warning to wear layers to the game, Eddie is freezing. He’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under a hoodie under a leather jacket, but he’s still cold. And Robin is bouncing around the box suite in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking perfectly comfortable and Eddie doesn’t get it. He zips his leather jacket all the way up and sinks into his seat, bobbing his head along to the music echoing through the arena.

“You’re going to be cold when we’re leaving if you don’t take something off.” Robin chastises, and Eddie just rolls his eyes. Jeff, Freak and Lucas are chatting, sitting in the seats just outside of the box. Inside the box, Gareth looks just as cold as Eddie, chatting with Nancy and Will on a sofa.

Paige returns a few minutes later with a bag of merchandise, courtesy of a voucher from the team, and drops it on Gareth’s lap. “Hoodie for you,” She declares, pulling out a black hoodie with the Blackhawks logo and throwing it into Gareth’s face. “Hoodie for you,” She adds, tossing a red one in Eddie’s direction. She pulls two more thinner zip ups out of the bag and drops them on Jeff and Freak’s heads. When she comes back in, she locks eyes with Eddie, who pauses as he unzips his leather jacket.

“What?” He asks, cautiously, and she grins.

“Got something else for you,” She says, and he’s instantly concerned.

“You’re freaking me out.” Eddie points out as he slips the hoodie he’d worn over his head and replaces it with the fleece-lined red hoodie with “Blackhawks” written across the back shoulders. Robin claps and jumps up and down beside him, concerning him further.

“They put one aside!?” She asks, and Paige nods, before tossing the rest of the bag to Eddie.

When he pulls out the contents, he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “You guys asked them to give me a Harrington jersey?” He raises an eyebrow at Robin, before pulling it over his head. It fits a little loose over the hoodie, but looks similar to how he’d seen other people wear theirs.

“Steve doesn’t know, but I asked. Figured you might like it.” She says, grinning as he turns a light shade of pink he fully intends to blame on the cold.

When the team introductions start, Robin drags Eddie out into the seats just outside the box, so they have a better view. While it’s colder out there, Eddie’s warmer in the new tops, and finds he doesn’t mind it as much. 

Robin and the members of the Party in the box break into cheers when Steve skates out onto the ice, and Eddie can’t help the little smile that crosses his face as he watches Steve interact with his team.

The puck drops and Steve manages to slip it away from the Kraken’s center, gliding down the ice effortlessly before passing it off. It’s a tiny thing, trying to pay attention to the puck, so Eddie finds himself just tracking Steve as he zips and twists around. After a few minutes, Steve skates back to the Blackhawks box and jumps in as another player hits the ice.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” Eddie’s confused as he looks at Robin, who gives him a soft smile.

“He’s fine. They only play for so long, before they switch out to keep them from getting tired.”

He tries to pay attention to what’s happening then, with Steve off the ice, but finds himself watching the other sit along the bench. He bangs his stick against the wall a few times, shouting things Eddie can’t hear. When he gets up to go back into the game, he pats the player he’s replacing on the back before hitting the ice. 

The next chance he gets the puck, he takes a shot toward the goalie, who stops the puck between his legs. Steve keeps skating, zipping around and getting back into the action. He gets the puck back, but is quickly checked by two Krakens who send him into the boards hard. Eddie grimaces, and a penalty is called on both Krakens for charging.

Steve scores a goal in the second period, and Eddie joins the Party in cheering along. He spots himself on the big screen and grabs Robin, pulling her into frame as she jumps up and down. 

The celebrations die down a little, and Robin scooches closer to him. “I can have them knock it off, if you don’t want to be up there. Dustin’s in the booth right now.” She offers, and he shrugs.

“I don’t mind. I kind of expected it, after the TikTok blew up.” He shrugs, tracking Steve back around the ice.

Blackhawks end up winning the game, 5-2, and while Steve doesn’t score again, he assists in each of the following goals. Each time, he has a different celebration with whoever he set up for the goal, and it’s sweet to watch Steve goof off, to hear his friends' excitement as he succeeds.  Walking back out of the booth, Eddie feels like his voice is more raw from screaming at the hockey game than it was from last night’s concert. 

_____________

“You shouldn’t skip the ice bath, Steve, you took a hard hit into that wall.” Max is lecturing as they move through the arena to where she says everyone is waiting. 

“I’m fine, I’ve taken worse hits and I stretched plenty. My shoulder just dug into the pad wrong. I’ll have a bruise, but it’s fine.” He insists, holding the door open for her then following her into the box where chaos immediately erupts.

Mike and Lucas are bouncing around, gushing about how great he played. Steve laughs, squeezing Lucas’ shoulder and ruffling Mike’s hair, before his eyes land on the band. They’re all wearing fresh Blackhawks gear, and Steve can’t help but grin.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you guys were able to come! Did you have a good time?” He asks, moving closer to them.

“Dude, I fucking love hockey. I haven’t been to a game in forever, this was sick. And you were killing it out there. I think I like hockey even more knowing someone who is playing.” Freak says, and Gareth nods along.

“Hockey is the only sport I’d ever really been interested in, so this was fun! Great game.”

“I have never had an interest in hockey before, but it was still cool to learn about.” Jeff admits, and then Steve turns to Eddie. His hands are tucked up inside the sleeves of the jersey, nestled in the front pocket of the hoodie beneath, but he grins.

“I concede, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated. I think it helps that you were awesome out there.”

Steve turns a soft shade of pink, shaking his head before nodding back toward the door out of the box. “Want to grab dinner with us? I’m starving.”

______________

They’re in some bar Steve texted the directions to but Eddie can’t remember the name, when he catches Steve staring at him from his spot between Dustin and Lucas. Eddie raises an eyebrow and waves a little, which seems to snap Steve out of it. He blushes and waves back, before covering his face with his hands. Eddie snorts, before getting up and moving so he’s sitting across from Steve.

“You weren’t mad that I put you up on the big screen, right? I think the team actually put it up on socials at some point, so I hope you didn’t mind.” Dustin rambles at Eddie as soon as he sits, but he’s quick to ease the kid’s concerns.

“It was fun. Don’t worry about it, kid. Really.” He says, watches Dustin visibly relax, but then Robin carts him and Lucas away, giving Steve and Eddie space and tossing a wink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie finds himself growing to appreciate her more and more. “I really did have a good time tonight. Cross my heart.” Eddie says, before drawing an “x” over his heart with his fingers.

Steve laughs, and opens his mouth to say something before he seems to reconsider. He thinks for a moment, before leaning over the table. “Are you wearing my jersey?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looks down and laughs. He’d forgotten he hadn’t taken it off, and Robin had said that Steve didn’t know about it. “I mean, it’s technically not yours. Just has your name and number on it.”

Steve squints his eyes before he leans back and takes a sip of his beer. Eddie seizes the opportunity to be chaotic, then, decides to take the leap. “I mean, I totally could be wearing your jersey, if you wanted me to. But you’re going to have to take me out of this one first.” 

It’s worth it, if for no other reason than Steve starts choking on his drink, coughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention. He composes himself quickly, but his face is still bright red, and Eddie grins.

“You’re a menace.” Steve accuses, voice hoarse and thick, and Eddie shrugs.

“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm going to try reblogging with a tag list this week because it's LONG and I have no idea how else to try to make it work without hitting a character limit. Thank you to everyone who is still reading! I've got so many ideas for this bouncing around in my head, I can't wait to flesh them out and I hope you continue to enjoy!

[morganbritton132]

I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me - Five

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Continuing immediately from part Four. And I hear your screaming, and enjoy it, but I am pretty sure that I'm not going the direction you expect me to.

------

“Huh?”

“I asked them to,” Eddie repeated, quieter.

It didn’t make more sense the second time.  His kids were stubborn. They were obnoxious, and someone asking them to do, or not do something had never once changed anything. Steve spent the last few years asking them not to leave crumbs in his car, and to call before coming over, and to please, just once, let him choose the movie on a movie night. Plus the part where everyone asked them not to put themselves in danger when monsters crawled out of the ground. 

Threats didn’t work on them, law enforcement didn’t work on them, like hell was something as delicate as asking going to do a damn thing. 

“Yeah, no, I heard you, but I don’t get it. So you, what? You sat them down and asked them to ice me out? And they said ‘sure why not!’ Man, even if you asked them to, they’re still the ones that did it. Shit, you’ve never liked me. There’s no way that you didn’t tell the boys to stop hanging out with me last year during your game meetings before everything happened.” Eddie shrank further into the seat, so Steve added, “So, it’s not your fault, but I guess I forgive you if that makes you feel better.”

Eddie gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wincing at what felt like every other word.

“Shit, Steve, it’s -- Shit,” he cursed as he sloshed some of his coffee over the brim. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was curled in on himself. “I didn’t sit them down and tell them to stop talking to you. That -- no way that would work. You’re right. They wouldn’t just -- Like I said, they’re crazy about you. It’s more, it’s all of the, I told them about how ever since -- shit. Look, it doesn’t matter why or how I did it, just trust me, I’m the reason. It’s my fault, and I fucked up, and I didn’t mean it to make -- but you left, and it’s killing them, and so you gotta forgive them, at least talk to them, cause its not their fault.”

“Yeah,” Steve stalled, “still don’t get why you think this is on you, dude.”

“At the beginning it -- shit, no. Doesn’t matter. Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t make this about that. Okay. I asked them not to invite you if I was around, cause I wasn’t -- I didn’t want to see you, and then I made sure they were always around me because -- because I wanted them to. And then I, you know, kept poking at them about it when they’d bring it up, reminding them that you don’t like D&D and that you wouldn’t want to watch the new Star Trek movie, and when they said anything I just kept telling them that -- Shit, just believe me. I’m the one that made them do this, it’s my fault, it’s not them.”

Okay, so Eddie was pushier since Spring Break than he was before it. Or the kids listened to him more. Or they were trying to take care of him. So Eddie was the prompt for them cutting him out of everything. Fine.

Still didn’t make it the guy’s fault. 

Steve got close with Robin after she found out about the Upside Down. But he didn’t get close to Jonathan. Dustin became, for a while at least, his brother. Steve would die for Mike, but they didn’t hang out if it wasn’t a group thing. All of them were tied together, and any one of them could make a call, and everyone would come to help, but that didn’t make them all automatically into friends. 

God, Eddie looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown in a booth in a diner. 

“Look, it’s,” Steve spun his coffee cup, “you’re real close with the guys in your club right? The ones in your band?”

Eddie went tense, then nodded awkwardly.

“You’re close because of that stuff, though. Not just cause you had some classes together or were next to each other on a bus. You got pushed together for some random reason, but  that happened with a lot of people. But you had shared interests, right? You like that game, and you got bullied at school and you like the same loud screaming music. So you got to know each other, and you had a bunch in common, and so you guys are friends. You’re close, so even though you graduated, and you don’t have class and lunch together anymore, you’re still friends.

“Christ, Steve, no,” he protested. 

Steve ignored that and kept going.

“I never had that with the kids, or any of them. Shit. Never had that with Nance either, but I didn’t know it back then.” His inner Robin glared, and he stayed on topic. “It wasn’t as simple as sharing some classes, there were monsters and all that, but that’s what kept me and them around each other. No more monsters now, so.”

His stomach twisted, like it always did if he got too close to thinking about this. 

He only barely managed to talk about this with Robin, because when it was Robin he was honest, and when he was honest, really honest, he ended the night quiet and hurting and picking apart the past year trying to find what he could have done differently. Shoving all of that back into the dark of his mind, he conjured up a casual shrug and a smile. 

“I get that they’re probably freaking out right now, but they’ll get over it. Give it another month or two and it’ll be fine. Start one of your campaign -- your big story things and distract them if they’re bugging you about it.” 

He wiped up the coffee Eddie spilled on instinct, and shoved the napkin in his now empty cup. 

Time to get home and get a nap before he went to the stockroom that night. He wouldn’t see Robin until he picked her up for work, but they were scheduled alone, so he could talk all of this through then. Trying to pretend this day didn’t happen would last all of eight seconds of contact with his best friend. Maybe she could make sense of how he was feeling. 

“Wait, stop, you can’t leave yet.”

“Munson, I’ve been here since before dawn, I wanna leave.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to talk to them. They miss you.”

“They didn’t six weeks ago, did they? Or for the holidays? Or for the months before that, huh?” Steve finally snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry. Answer’s still no.”

He bussed their cups and the creamer to the pass through and grabbed his coat and gloves. Steam rose off Hopper’s truck where he had the engine running to keep warm. They exchanged a single nod before Steve turned towards the road to walk home. 

“Steve!” 

It wasn’t a shock to hear, but Steve had hoped that Eddie wouldn’t follow. 

“Okay, I get that you’re not going to just forgive them, and that you don’t want to talk to them, but--”

“No. I don’t. And I know you think this is your fault, and I’m telling you it’s not, and I told you, I’m not mad at you about this. We weren’t friends. I’m not mad at you for not wanting me around or whatever. That’s fine. And? They’ll get over it, and everyone can just move on with their lives with the people they actually like.”

Steve’s stupid voice betrayed him, cracking, and he cut off the rest of what he might have said. Anger was the fastest way to shut down weakness, and it was easy for him to sink into it.  

Eddie had his hands in his hair, clutching at it near his temples, looking borderline hysterical. 

“Would you at least listen if they talked?”

“They don’t have my phone number, and if you tell them where I live, I’ll send Mrs Buckley after you. And Hopper.”

“You could call them.”

“No.”

It wasn’t about who placed the call. If he heard them, if they said a fraction of what he wanted to hear, he’d cave, immediately and entirely, and then both the real life Robin, and the mini Robin in his brain would give him hell. 

“Steve come on, something, anything. Letters? If they write letters?”

“I’m not giving them my address, and Hopper already asked about mailing stuff through him instead. No.”

It was cold and he was tired. Just about the only person in the party that he didn’t care had abandoned him was trying to pull Steve back into the vat of slow simmering pain he was still climbing out of. 

“Look, Eddie --”

“I’ll drive them. The letters. You don’t even have to answer, or read them. Let me tell them that I can bring you letters, and I’ll drive them up here. If you do want to answer I’ll wait and then drive whatever it is back. As many times as you want.”

“Come on, man.”

“I won’t even -- I don’t have to know where you live, or your number, anything. I can come here. To the diner. Won’t even come inside, just drop them off and wait. You won’t have to talk to me, or see me. Just, come on. Even if you never forgive them, or answer them, let them have this. Even if you don’t read what they say, let them think they got to apologize.”

The wind shifted, and Steve tucked his chin into his coat to wait it out. 

Eddie was shivering two steps away, gloveless hands shoved under his arms, hair tangling into more of a mess than usual. 

“That’s a stupid idea, Munson,” he said when the gust stopped, “If they know that you know where I am, and you don’t tell them, they’re going to hate you. They’d drive you insane trying to get you to tell them, and they’d be horrible the whole time. They already ditched me for you, so, don’t make them hate you too.”

“They already hate me.” The response was immediate and defeated.

“Dude, they don’t.”

“They do. They figured it out a few weeks ago. That I was the reason. Just cause you don’t get it doesn’t mean they don’t. This is my fault. They already hate me. They won’t even talk to me long enough to yell. They act like I don’t exist.”

“Christ, Munson, is that why you’re up here, freezing your ass off in a parking lot and bitching at me? So you can get them to like you by getting me to talk to them?”

Eddie flinched. Didn’t say anything for a minute as he shivered with wide eyes. Then, without any of the dramatics the guy was known for, “Please, Steve. Even if you throw them out right after. Let them write to you, and let me tell them the truth when I say you got them. I think they can survive if they don’t hear back. They’ll blame me, but that’s fine, they should. The silence is what’s killing them. They need to say how -- they need to believe that you heard how sorry they are.”

It was so fucking cold it was making Steve’s eyes water. That was the only reason for it. The cold front that came in overnight.

“I’m not gonna promise to read them,” he caved.

The tension collapsed out of Eddie, and he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I work here in the mornings Monday through Wednesday every week. You should drop them off then. M’not saying I’ll read them, or write anything back, but if they want to write, fine.” 

Eddie nodded over and over, hiding behind his hands, and whisper-mumbling something that Steve couldn’t catch. He was shaking again. The kind of full body wracking that meant the cold was sinking deep.

“Christ, go get in Hop’s truck before your fingers freeze off or something.” 

Without waiting for a response, or checking that he listened, Steve turned and kept walking. Another gust of wind tore through him, loud enough that he wouldn’t have heard another call of his name. It was a good thing that John messed up the big combo that morning, and Steve had eaten it during the lull after breakfast. He wasn’t going to manage anything else until tomorrow at the earliest. 

That was assuming Robin didn’t kill him on the spot for his stupid, stupid decision. 

Ten steps down the road, and he already regretted it. Even if he didn’t read anything, even if they never sent anything, the choice would sit like a rock in his gut; a new ache, a new bruise, and Steve was dumb enough that he’d keep poking at it. 

---

I'm sad that this is two chapters without Robin. That's some kind of a crime. Can guarantee that Robin has Strong Opinions about this when she talks to Steve that night.

I don't do tag lists or regular updates, and I have no shame about that.

>>>>>Part Six

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SEVEN: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS

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✦ summary: in which corroded coffin performs at the hideout (wc: 9.3k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF, jealousy, jealous!menace!eddie, the kiddos make an appearance!!!, uhmm kissing,,, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, uhm thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. SO VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. hopefully this makes up for it. as usual the song is by arctic monkeys, and the other song mentioned is lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. but we'll pretend like its all by corroded coffin so shshsh.

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

“Dude, I’m telling you it was not my fault.” Gareth exasperated desperately, hands up in the air in defeat.

But Eddie was quick to shake his head, “You drove her here, how is it not your fucking fault, Gareth?” He spat, bitter and angry. 

“She insisted! She wants to apologize to Pinky!”

“What?” Confusion etched across Eddie’s face. 

With an annoyed sigh, “Yeah, the whole fuckin’ world has to revolve around her,” Gareth muttered under his breath, knowing that saying anything about you would drive Eddie crazy. 

“Watch it,” Eddie warned, mouth downturned in disgust almost immediately. 

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Gareth, I’m not gonna tell you this a second fuckin’ time, okay? Don’t do that shit around me and never say one fucking word about her again, you got that?” He gritted through his teeth, his hand unintentionally clenching into a fist. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“I mean it,” Eddie spat.

“Fine, fine!” Gareth threw his hands up in defeat, both of them downing their drink before scurrying away. 

Shit.

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get a drink for the group, surfing through the sea of people—which was unusual for The Hideout. Still, you guessed the only celebrity from Hawkins was enough to have people swarming in, and Gareth and Eddie happened to be chatting right behind you. 

Even though it stung to hear Gareth talk of you like you were the fucking anti-christ, hearing Eddie defend you like that had that familiar warmth spread through your entire body. And you hated it, you hated the soft spot you’d always have for him, how it would take you back to five years ago when he would be there for you, every single time. 

Fucking great, you had so many people to avoid tonight; Chrissy, Gareth, and Eddie. 

With a sigh, you quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Plopping it on the booth with a slight sloosh. 

Everyone reached for it and you were quick to slap away Max, Lucas, and Dustin’s curious hands. “Oh, come on!” Max protested with a groan. 

“Not legal,” you hummed with a narrowed gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure you were legal when you were shotgunning beers and smoking joints like it was your lifeline during senior year,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quick to get settled into his seat with a huff. 

You gasped dramatically, “Lucas Sinclair!” Exclaiming as he gave you a simple shrug. 

“So what’s new with you and Mr. Rockstar, now?” He teased, and you narrowed your gaze at Max who snickered underneath her hand. 

“Nothing,” You mumbled, shying away from everyone’s gaze on you. 

“Good thing, we can always ask the other party, too,” Dustin chimed in with a smirk, head pointing toward behind you. 

There was a slow tap on your shoulder and you were quick to jerk your body around. 

Of course.

Eddie. 

His soft gaze was dumbly addicting, that boyish grin curled deliciously on his lips while amber eyes took you in wholly. 

His gaze wandered to your figure, the midnight blue dress embracing your figure, accentuating your curves, its hem grazed against your mid-thigh, allowing him to get a glimpse of your sun-kissed legs, simple but exuding how breathtakingly pretty you were. 

He couldn’t place why your brows were so tightly pinched together, or why your arms were crossed against your chest, plump lips downturned with a pout. Still, you looked so pretty, so alluring that he could barely form any sentence. 

Mind captured entirely by you, almost feeling paralyzed while he took you in. 

“H—hey!” He stammered, awkwardly putting his hands in the back pocket of his chained black jeans. He was just him, and oh, god, you were you. 

Plush lips that curled into the prettiest smile, the most captivating eyes, even when you seemingly looked upset, brows pinched together, those glossy lips downturned, you were perfect. 

You ignored Eddie’s greeting, your piercing glare was still not that noticeable to him, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked, and how he was glad that he saw you before his set. He wanted nothing more than to see you watching him perform the songs he wrote all about you. 

“Wow… Uhh—you look… amazing,” He mumbled, breath getting hitched on his throat when he saw your unreadable expression. 

And all you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile. Almost immediately wiping that glow off of his face, face going momentarily blank. 

But he should’ve expected this, he knew you wouldn’t jump into his arms at any opportunity, he deserved this. He needed to do more, he needed to win you back. 

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate, needing your approval, but you interrupted. “I—I’m going to get a drink,” you mumbled, face flushed with heat, you didn’t know how to act either. 

Eddie glanced over at the tray of drinks on the booth, with his head tilted, “there’s a bunch of drinks over there,” he mumbled, he didn’t want you to leave. 

“I can see that, but I still want my own,” you sassed with a narrowed gaze, not letting him talk back once you left to go to the bar. 

Eddie watched your figure leave with a deep sigh, turning to the booth to take one of the drinks. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Steve muttered with a nod, and Eddie was quick to give him a death glare. 

“So, will you finally enlighten us on what happened with you and Mrs. Grumpy over there?” Dustin huffed impatiently, grabbing three drinks from the tray now that you were gone, handing the other two to Max and Lucas with a grin.  

“She didn’t tell you guys?” 

“No! Which is a shame because she usually can’t say no to my adorable face.” Dustin blinked quickly, batting his eyelashes while Eddie shook his head at him with a chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon, Eddie, just tell us!” Max let out an impatient huff, her captivating icy blue gaze was pleading in a way that he could never say no to.

These doofuses would always be his weakness. 

“Yeah, Eddie, pretty please?” Lucas added exaggeratedly, mocking Max as she hit him in the chest playfully. 

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, running his hand over his forehead in frustration.  

“But nothing really happened and I don’t think it’s—” When he felt everyone’s gaze piercing through him, he was quick to shut up.  “Okay, okay!” He huffed.  

“She came to my trailer guns ablaze and then just slammed the note against my chest, calling me a coward, and then I told her off—”

“Wait what?” Max was quick to interrupt him, brows pinching together. 

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t the one who left.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, didn’t you kiss Chrissy in front of her?” Max taunted.

“Yeah, and did you not bring her to Steve’s?” Dustin added. 

With a huff, he turned back to Steve. “Jesus, Harrington, did you gang up all of them against me?” He just gave Eddie a shrug. 

“That’s not even the point! Everything has just become too convoluted with us,” He spat, anger returning quicker than you intended to, while the rest of the gang sipped their drinks with an ‘oof’.

“It’s not convoluted, just tell her how you feel!” Max inquired, gently, almost like she was trying not to tip him off. 

“I—” He took a deep breath. I will. He wished to say, but saying it out loud felt too real. And you were right, he was a coward.

“I’m gonna properly apologize and make things right by her,” he muttered, taking a big sip from his drink. 

“You better hurry up, rockstar,” Steve taunted smugly, the weird face he pulled was making crinkles appear on Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie’s head cocked toward Steve, aggressively. “You better tell her how sorry you fucking are.”

With an all-knowing snort, Steve’s finger accusingly pointed towards something behind him. “Or someone else might swoop in.” 

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes before he turned around with a huff. 

Oh, shit. 

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Steve’s accusatory finger, a slight ‘shit’ escaping from Robin’s lips which Nancy elbowed gently to shut her up. 

Eddie could barely move, his entire face feeling hot and jaw clenching involuntarily, jealousy shooting through him faster than the alcohol swimming in his system. 

Because there you stood, in front of the bar, with your head tilted sideways, a pretty grin sitting on your lips, mellow gaze looking up at the guy in front of you—dirty blonde, hair cut shorter than Eddie’s but almost as long as Steve’s, wearing the most expensive and tidy outfit Eddie had ever seen—making him feel stupid for choosing to wear those black chained jeans. 

His scowl was anything but pretty, brows furrowing in a way that made him look like a complex puzzle, eyeing the way this stranger was touching you. 

“Oh, isn’t that—” Robin spoke up, and the entire table shushed her because they also realized exactly who that was. 

James.

Your ex, not Billy, of course, the other douchebag before Billy. 

He really wasn’t much of a douchebag, a genuine, nice guy, and to make matters worse he was a total gentleman; attributes Eddie would never call a typical high school Jock. 

The relationship only ended because he went to college one too many states away, the distance getting between the two of you, but Eddie always referred to him as ‘the douchebag’ The jealous feeling sunk into his chest even then. 

Rich kid, a jock in high school, older than both of you, someone who had his life together. Everything that Eddie never was. Everything Eddie always wished to be.

But now, seeing you with him made something almost click in Eddie’s head, like he was meant for you as he suited you much better than Eddie ever would. 

He could treat you much better than Eddie would, sure Eddie had his name now, the riches he never had back in high school. But he was still just Eddie.

And he was certain James never kissed Chrissy, he’d never fuck up like Eddie did.

He watched the way your eyes lit up when he was animatedly talking, his gentle touch on your arm, the smile that curled on your lips. 

What if he asked for your number? What if he wanted to reconnect? What if you said yes? Just because Eddie had been a total fucking idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him? 

He tried so hard to push the idea of the two of you together back into his mind. To make sure it never left, to make sure it never manifested. 

But the way his jaw clenched and the deadly glare burning through both of you showed that he couldn’t. 

He was jealous, a type of jealousy that quickly translated into anger, one he could almost feel on his skin, hot and prickling rage stabbing into his body, agonizingly slow, making it harder for him to stay glued there and not do anything the more he eyed the hold James had on you. He was standing too close for Eddie’s liking. 

Usually, he’d let this feeling sink back into his mind, take a breather, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and then act like nothing was wrong for the rest of the night while he spent it sulking. Keep that rage caged in his chest, so he could keep his feelings contained. 

But he couldn’t do that this time, no. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, not again. He was going to fight for you, he was going to show you that you belonged with him. 

No matter what Mr. Fancy Pants could offer to you, he needed to tell you how he really felt, he needed to make sure you knew. Because even if he could feel the insecurities jabbing into his brain, he always knew, deep down that there was something there between the two of you. Something always left undiscovered because both of you were cowards.

He couldn’t let that happen again, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Oh, I get the appeal now,” Max murmured, breaking the silence between everyone, and earning a hard glare from Eddie. 

“What? He seems nice, has pretty hair, much better than Steve’s, and that outfit probably cost more than your wedding,” Max spoke bluntly, now earning more than just the hard glare of Eddie, mouth hung open Steve looked offended, Nancy and Jonathan narrowed their gaze, but Robin snickered behind her hand, almost giving Max her approval. 

“Max!” Lucas reacted before them and Max furrowed her brows, a smirk earning her way to her lips. “You’re still my number one Lucas, don’t worry,” She hummed, pinching Lucas’ cheek and ignoring Dustin’s groan.

“Dude, why would you do that?” Dustin whispered, eyeing Eddie worriedly while nudging Steve by his jacket. 

With a dramatic huff, Steve pulled his collar back, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” 

Eddie’s fingertips absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in front of him, his eyes never leaving the two of you when he downed the drink, slamming it back on the booth, making everyone flinch. 

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie muttered, a forced chuckle escaping his lips. 

“What are you even going to do?” Robin inquired, almost mocking.

A smirk landed on Eddie’s face. “I’m not going down without a fight, Buckley.” 

“Not this fucking time,” he hissed, almost all the brows of the gang raising at his determination.

“I’m gonna tell her how I feel, and I’m not letting another douchebag ruin this,” Eddie mumbled, and a dumb smirk was placed on everyone’s face almost too quickly.

He was going for it, and the soap opera was continuing, the gang watched in excitement.

“Was he ever really a doucheba—” Dustin’s worries were quick to die down when he threw him a deadly glare.

Without another word, he stormed off to the side of the bar. Quick, too fucking quickly that it almost gave him a whiplash. He didn’t know what had taken over him, eyes burning the back of their figures as everyone else at the table watched him with a proud look. 

But the child-like jealousy he felt within his body was uncontainable, it felt like his face was almost too hot to touch, he was desperate, quite literally. 

The tap on James’ shoulder was anything but gentle, making him turn to Eddie with his pair of brows furrowed, and Eddie’s muscles were quick to tense. 

His dark gaze only softened when he looked back at you, muscles relaxing, and creased brows returning to their normal form. 

The jealousy eased inside of him, not dissipating quite enough, but slowing with one gaze from you.

Back in the booth, with another sip from his drink, Lucas huffed, “Five bucks says they’ll confess by tonight.” 

Robin was quick to snort at him, “You’re trusting them too much, kid, Steve’s ‘little push’ might help them,” She mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at her face, she’s going to go off at him. The most they’ll probably do is have another fight, get just a little bit close to talking about their feelings, and then do it all over again.”

Steve, ignoring Robin’s theories, exclaimed with a smirk. “Ten bucks that Pinky will sleep with Eddie tonight!”

“I second that,” Max said with a grin.

“Steve!” Nancy warned with a disapproving tut. 

“What?” He huffed. 

“They’re kids!”

“We’re nineteen!” Max groaned. 

“I turn twenty next month!” Dustin chimed in. 

“Still!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve sighed with a glare at Nancy, “Then ten bucks that they’ll kiss tonight!” 

“No fucking way.” Robin shook her head. 

“Nah, they’ll at least kiss tonight,” Jonathan said with crossed arms. 

“Are you guys seriously betting on our friends?” Nancy said with a furrowed brow. 

They all nodded vigorously, “Fine,” Nancy muttered. 

“Then I second Steve, ten bucks for them sle-kissing.” Nancy corrected herself, earning a wicked grin from Steve. 

“Come on!” Robin groaned, dissatisfied by Nancy’s answer. 

“I agree with Robin,” said Dustin with a shrug.

“Finally!” Robin exclaimed, hands rubbing together in victory. “Someone with common sense. There’s no way those idiots are going to do anything but fight, just watch her come back here, all fuming about how much she hates Eddie.”

They all shrugged, going back to continue watching the soap opera unravel in front of them. 

“James!” Eddie greeted with faux excitement, a grin playing on his lips, amber gaze remaining on you. With your brows creased, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ you mouthed behind their awkward hug.

He shrugged, and his hands clutched James’ shoulder harshly, making him chuckle awkwardly. “Munson, the man of the hour!” He greeted him with a beaming smile.

He really was too nice for his own good, wasn’t he?

“I’d ask what you were up to, but it seems you’ve been doing just fine, rockstar,” James exclaimed, returning a friendly slap to Eddie on his shoulder—in a much nicer way than Eddie intended with his.

You smiled uncomfortably, your gaze still throwing daggers at Eddie, who was actively avoiding it. “I have to say that last album? Fucking Christ, had it playing over and over again for days.” He beamed again, much to both of your dismay.

That all-knowing smirk on Eddie’s face disappeared, the unexpected compliment seemed to make him uncomfortable, conflicting with the defensive walls he had put up.

“Uhh—thanks man,” he chuckled awkwardly, casting a quick, scrutinizing glance at you, catching the small smirk on your lips.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, curiously, desperate to know what the two of you were talking about, nervous to see if the two of you would do anything more than this.

The confidence in the way James held himself, his slicked hair, his fancy outfits up close, Eddie’s insecurities washed him over once again. Now with that part of his brain convincing him that the two of you would somehow end up together again.

“Oh, you know, I was just in town, got a nice job here, thought I’d stop by to see Corroded Coffin play, been seeing the posters everywhere—great marketing by the way,” He hummed, flashing Eddie a smile. 

And Eddie returned a forced one, lips pursed together in annoyance. “and then I thought I’d get a drink, but then I heard this familiar voice next to me, yelling to the guy next to her to fuck off for attempting to steal her drink, and I thought oh that’s Pinky.” Eddie couldn’t help but not keep his gaze on you, studying your features, almost gauging your reaction, trying to nitpick something to fuel his jealousy. 

“Been a long time, but I’d never miss this one’s sassy voice and that pretty face,” He mumbled with a sly smirk, making Eddie’s face scrunch and almost making him scoff out loudly. 

“Oh, stop it!” You mumbled with a smile, all flattered, and Eddie’s gaze narrowed, jealousy overtaking him again. 

“So you two are… reconnecting for the old times' sake, huh?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Eddie—”

With a smile, James turned to you, “I mean I’d love to grab a drink, are you free tomorrow?”

“Ah! I wish I could, but I need to help Nancy out with some wedding stuff.”

“How about next wee—”

“She’s busy,” Eddie interjected quickly. 

“Eddie!” You warned with your brows raised, heat rising to your cheeks, what the fuck was he doing? 

“Can I just—steal you away for a minute?” Eddie turned to you with his jealous gaze, hand gently having a hold on your arm. 

“Oh, sure, man!” 

“No!” You and James exclaimed in unison. 

James stared at the two of you with his brows furrowed, both of you breathing heavily, an intense gaze connecting the two of you. With a sigh, you followed him out of the crowd, an apologetic smile thrown toward James. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

You scoffed, “Me? What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” You snapped, naze garrowing. 

“I’m not locking lips with James that’s for sure!”

“Jesus Christ I was not locking lips with—” You halted abruptly, the absurdity of the sentence hitting you like a wave. Taking a moment to breathe, “What are you a child?”

“Well, if pointing out the obvious means I’m a child then so fucking be it!” The words tumbled out of his mouth harshly, almost lost in the din of the bar. 

“The obvious? Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed Chrissy?” You accused sharply, your anger returning and cutting through Eddie’s jealousy like a knife. 

“Look, I—I’m genuinely sorry for that, Pinky, I am. I should’ve never done that, it was a mistake—” His voice strained, getting lost amidst the background clamor, their set was about to start and Eddie could careless. 

He took a step closer, but you didn’t budge. “You don’t kiss someone as a mistake, Eddie! You don’t invite them to brunch as a fucking mistake!” You snapped, tone a poignant mix of bitterness, jealousy, and an equal amount of hurt. Teary yet ablaze gaze bored into Eddie's, breaking his heart more and more. 

His shoulders sagged under the weight of your words, the realization of the irreparable damage sinking in. 

He took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap.“Will you just listen to me?” Eddie's plea hung in the air, the room seemingly shrinking as you and Eddie’s gaze connected. Your breaths mingled, heavy with unspoken words that pulsed between you. 

Only inches apart, and you couldn’t help it when your gaze drooped down to his lips, then back to his mellow eyes.

“Eddie, this is the fifth fucking time they’ve been calling you.” Gareth’s irritating voice snapped the conversation, loud enough to have you almost jump back, as you threw Gareth a daggering gaze. 

“Just fucking wait for a second,” Eddie spat, trying to dismiss him, but the moment was gone. 

And Gareth wasn’t having it. “No way, dude we go on in like five minutes,” He scoffed, momentarily dragging Eddie by his arm.  

“Fine, fine!” Eddie scowled, shaking off the hold.  

“You should uh— go.” 

“Let me explain,” He almost begged, desperate. 

But with another dismissal, you left. 

Eddie wanted to drop everything and run to you, apologize, tell you what he felt, but somehow, some way he was always managing to fuck up the things between the two of you, now. 

It was like he was fourteen again, his dad letting him know that he always managed to fuck up something good, that he was destined to the Munson name. Like he could never manage to do something right.

Wayne, Jonathan, Corroded Coffin, and Nancy all changed that belief. 

But, you? Oh, god, you made him believe that he was good, you pulled him out of that darkness, you were the first one to believe in him, you were the one who encouraged him. You made him feel like he was on the right path, always. 

And you were the one who mattered, if he didn’t have you believing that now, what else did he have? 

With a hand on his shoulder, Jeff was dragging him back, he stared at your figure leaving, and with a sigh, he headed backstage. 

-

Aurora was the fifth song they sang, and it should’ve gotten to you, the way his gaze didn’t leave yours, how vulnerable he sounded, the way he barely even made eye contact with the guitar he was supposed to be focusing on, that should’ve gotten to you. 

But it didn’t. 

Your glossy gaze and your crossed arms, as everyone else around you cheered for him, did nothing but upset you more and more. 

Everything was so confusing that you couldn’t even make sense of yourself anymore. Yes, you were mad about everything with Chrissy, but you also knew he didn’t know everything that transpired between you and her. 

Chrissy and Billy should’ve been enough for him to not want anything to do with her, yet you still believed him when he told you it was a mistake, that he would’ve never done it if he knew. And the pool… the things he said in the car. Hours ago when you went to his trailer.

Sure, he was sorry, and he said he’d prove himself to you. 

But none of you ever out loud said anything, it had always been a cowardice dance around your feelings, and you were afraid that if this dance ended, then it would be all too real. It would all be over.

A heave of breath exited your lips, attempting to drown away the worries, but they were spiked up the second the song ended and Eddie spoke up again. 

“This next song is for my friends over there, Nancy and Jonathan,” He exclaimed with a grin, finger excitedly pointing towards the two of them, it was the first time his gaze had left yours, involuntarily your head turned to your right. 

“They’re getting married this weekend, and were kind enough to let me and my dipshit friends play,” He said with a sheepish grin, and Nancy and Jonathan shyly smiled at him, waving him off in a dismissive way, 

“So this is for the soon-to-be newlywed couple, and for the special girl next to them, who’s mad at me for a lot of reasons, and she has every right to be, I was a total ass.” He earned chuckles and some cheering from the crowd, who unintentionally all faced you. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but hey, maybe this might help my case, huh?” He said with a grin, his gaze was dangerously addicting, full of promises, and you couldn’t help the way it made stupid butterflies appear in your stomach. 

It was so easy for him to get you like this, you were starting to feel pathetic. 

Speechless, and the heat quick to rise to your cheeks, you were trying to ignore the whispers and stares from the crowd, but it was basically impossible. 

The opening chords were enough to rattle your memory, the dreamy guitar riffs from Eddie sweeping in echoing the space as if it was just the two of you. 

You knew exactly which song he was playing. 

And the vocals, added with Eddie’s smooth, sultry voice were enough to have your heartbeat raising making you almost feel small, haziness overtaking your mind. 

And it only brought back one memory to your mind. 

FIVE YEARS AGO.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

Another job interview, another opportunity you feel like you have missed.

It hadn’t been long since the two of you had arrived in Los Angeles, yet every passing minute felt like you had been wasting away your time, you needed a job, and no one in stupid LA was hiring you. 

A groan escaped your lips when you plopped yourself onto the couch, right next to Eddie who was way too into scribbling something into a notebook. 

Wait… was he using the…? 

“Is that… the notebook?” Your eyes lit up happily. It was such a small, stupid thing. 

But for you, it was important. That notebook was important. And you never actually thought he’d care about it, but it looked like he was carrying it in his back pocket. 

“Is that a crime?” Eddie sassed.

With a scoff, you narrowed your gaze. “No, doofus! I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.” 

Almost taken aback Eddie sat up straight on the couch, knees brushing against yours now. “Are you kidding? Half of this bad boy is filled with lyrics.”

“What is the other half made of?” You asked with a dangerous grin. 

“You’d have to kill me to find out.” Eddie enunciated dramatically, tone drooping lower to mimic mystery. 

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, curiosity getting the best of you. Scooting closer to him, you pouted. “Can’t you at least give me something?” You asked, all doe-eyed, tone sticky sweet, in a way that always got to Eddie. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” He groaned, almost melting into you, “You know I’ll give you anything if you ask that sweetly.”

You grinned happily, clapping your hands together in victory once he ripped up a page and handed it to you. 

“That is the chorus of a song I’m working on,” He mumbled, eyes nervously following you, waiting to read your reaction.

She's thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She's thunderstorms

Your eyes blinked quickly to process everything. It had been not too long since the both of you had come to L.A., Eddie was desperately trying to send the band’s best material to any label who was willing to sign them. 

And you had just gotten out of a horrible relationship, things had not been steady enough for the two of you to ever discuss anything about your feelings, always tip-toeing around it, but too scared to ever actually delve into it. 

Yet, you could tell this was about you, something about being described as thunderstorms stuck to your mind, maybe he somehow meant it as good. But all it reminded you of was destruction. And he wasn’t wrong. 

It was like everywhere you went, something horrible followed, exactly like a dark cloud looming over, waiting to strike anyone daring to be near you. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, teeth grazing through your nails anxiously. “Who’s this thunderstorm girl?” You asked, masking your nervousness with a brittle smile. 

He snatched the notebook back, ignoring your little huff. “Someone I went to school with,” He answered cooly and then leaned further into your face with a grin. “I was drivin’ around one day, then saw this girl’s car on the side of the road, to be nice I helped fix her car but then she became totally obsessed with me.” He recalled the first time he met you, animatedly.

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah, didn’t leave me alone for years.”

With a narrowed gaze, “Asshole,” you bantered.

“That’s so weird,” He hummed with a smirk “That was her favorite nickname for me,” quipped Eddie and you stuck your tongue at him childishly. 

With a slight push on his elbow, he drew closer to you. “So… what did you think?” He coaxed nervously, you could tell it was important to him, yet being this close was making your mind spin. 

“I like it,” you muttered, unable to face his beautiful features when he was so close, and your mind spinning with the fact that Eddie thought of you as destructive, too.

“That’s it? You… just like it?”

“No that’s not it, it’s just—” With a sigh you snatched back the notebook from his hands. “It’s just… isn’t this bad?” 

“What?” His brows creased together in worry, “W-which one did you not like I can change it-” You shook your head, interrupting his anxious ramble.

“No! I love all of them! But describing… uh—this girl,” Tip-toeing around it, causing Eddie to smirk. “As thunderstorms? Isn’t that bad?” 

“No, not at all. It’s a metaphor.” He shook his head, explaining gently.

“She embodies the essence of thunderstorms—unpredictable and explosive. She has the power to create chaos and destruction, and on the surface that might sound bad, yet within that destruction she sparks a new life. You know, making it so much better,” He hummed, licking his lips.  

“And she also feels like a thunderstorm, intense and electrifying, shaking up your life, in the best way possible.”

“Oh. Wow,” You mumbled, gaze turning mellow with how well he explained everything, heart melting with how he saw you, not just from the surface, like he could peel the intricate layers of your existence, appreciating every part of it. 

“Uhh, then I love that actually,” you concluded with a smile, attempting to mask the fluttering in your stomach. Did he really see you in that way? 

Did he really see you as someone worth all of this? You tried to ignore the tears prickling in your eyes, begging to pour out, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment. 

You didn’t deserve him. In the slightest. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in your bullshit. You shouldn’t have dragged him here. You were being selfish, but, god, did it feel good. 

To finally feel safe, to finally have someone take care of you, to finally have someone you could rely on. After everything, didn’t you at least deserve to be a little selfish? 

But that feeling ate away at you, even though you shook it off for the moment, it was eventually going to return. And it did. 

“You do?” His brows raised in surprise, it made you want to fuck all and just grab his cheeks and kiss him, lips plush together until the two of you couldn’t breathe. 

But you couldn’t afford that, you couldn’t afford the feelings, nor could you afford the fallout. You couldn’t lose him. 

“Mhmm,” You answered with a broken smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always did.  

“She sounds special.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, eyeing you with a worried look. “Very, very special,” He repeated, he could tell something was off. 

But it was okay, because he was here for you now, and he wasn’t going to leave. 

NOW:

Suddenly the room felt suffocating. 

Eddie’s gaze on you felt mocking.

It was stupid, he had just dedicated the song to you, yet all your mind could focus on was everything bad that had happened. Ruining everything good that happened with him. 

How were you even going to be with him if you couldn’t even handle this?  

Fear, trust issues, being afraid of not knowing how things were going to go, if you would fuck this up too, then that was it for you. No one else could compare, and you knew that. 

Maybe if you just knew that the same went for Eddie, if you just could see that the five years you spent apart had been just as hell-ish for him if not more. The constant thoughts in his mind reminded him that he could never be over you, truly. Sure, it hurt less now, but the scar was still there, scabbing the second someone mentioned you. The realization of knowing no one could ever be you etched onto his skin. 

“Hey… you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts, Eddie’s voice served as a background noise while his gaze was still stuck on you. 

“Y-yeah, I just—” You faltered, face growing numb and anxiety increasing when you suddenly needed some air. 

Too much, all of it was too much. 

Eddie could almost sense it, he grew worried at your frowny brows and your tear-streaked gaze. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, body jerking back scurrying out quickly when you ignored everyone calling out for your name. 

Eddie’s vocals almost halted, missing a few notes on the guitar before Gareth was quick to snap him back to it. 

His head cocked toward your direction, desperate, nearly begging to stop the show, but all of them shook their head quickly, and once Eddie turned back to see the look on Jonathan and Nancy’s face, he realized he couldn’t do this to them. 

This was his friends' wedding, and he owed this to them. When the song ended, he was quick to mouth to the others, “After the next song, we’re taking a break.” It wasn’t a request, it was final.

And frankly, the rest of them were too tired out to even argue with a hot-headed Eddie.

“So how is your plan working, dingus?” Robin jeered at Steve.

“Shut up.”

There were a couple more people outside, all leaning against the wall, chuckling while talking over each other loudly, the smoke of their lit cigarettes quick to take over your senses. 

With a cough, you leaned further away from them, mind still unraveling what had just happened. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore. 

You wanted to smoke, hand itched to reach for the pocket of your jacket and light one to take away your stress, but you could barely breathe as it was right now. 

A light tap on your shoulder snapped you away from your thoughts. 

Who was it now? 

You huffed loudly when your head cocked back.

Fucking great. 

Chrissy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, this just had to be your luck, your feet picked up quickly, hand quick to reach for the door and go back inside.

“Please, please don’t leave,” She pleaded.

Your hold on the door remained, barely glancing back at her, “Just leave me alone!” You snapped. 

“I just want to apologize, please, then I’ll leave you alone, forever.”

“Please, just five minutes.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. 

Your hold on the door faltered, and with a deep sigh, you turned to her. “Fine.”

“Five minutes,” You warned, your patience already wearing thin.  

Her face lit up, blinking a few times to make sure she heard you correctly. “O-oh, okay, good,” She cleared her throat.

“First of all, I’m sorry, for everything, for what I said five years ago, for what I did with Billy, for using what he did to you like a fucking joke. For w-what I said about your parents.” She stammered.

“It’s too late, I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done any of those things, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved a better friend, someone like you.” She almost looked at you like she was waiting for your approval, gauging your reaction, your expressionless face encouraged her to continue. 

“I was bitter, jealous. Which isn’t a fucking excuse, I know, I was just—” she took a deep breath. “You were everything I wanted to be, careless, had all the boys' attention, and you didn’t even have to try, you didn’t have to do anything, and they’d just fall at your feet. And I was stupid, bitter, and insecure enough to envy that.”

“That’s not my problem, Chrissy.” You spat out with your gaze narrowing, you couldn’t handle her pity party right now.

“And really, you wanted to be me? Chrissy I didn’t have parents, my boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole.I was broke.” You scoffed with an ironic chuckle, shaking your head in anger.

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve any of that.” Sincerity. Something you haven’t seen from her in years.

“I just wanted to tell you that none of it was your fault.” Now your gaze narrowed, a chuckle rolling on your lips. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest. “No, I know you’re going to say you didn’t think that but I know you do. Even though you hate me, which I don’t blame you, I know you like the back of my hand, you blame yourself, you always did it. And I’m telling you shouldn’t because it was all my fault. A-and I shouldn’t have done whatever I did with Eddie, I practically took advantage of him like he did to me and then got mad at him, oh god, I’m such a fucking bitch, aren’t I?”

Your eyes blinked quickly to process all of it. Her apology didn’t mean anything, her words didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you knew she was right, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Because you spent many nights blaming yourself, for even opening up to them in the first place. 

“First of all, breathe,” you mumbled with annoyance.  

“Second of all, yes you are,” you huffed. 

“And, taking advantage? What do you mean?” 

“Some fucked up part of me wanted him because I knew you wanted him back then, a-and he was right there and he was being nice to me and—” Chrissy took a deep sigh, big blue eyes staring into you knowing that you were not going to like what she was going to say.

“I should’ve known.”

With puckered brows, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Known what?” 

“That he was still hung up on you,” she muttered.

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Chrissy—”

“No, no just listen.” But she wasn’t going to let you spiral.

“Look you were dumb enough then—” You threw her a glare, so daggeringly cold that she stopped.  

“Sorry,” she muttered before continuing, “Look, the two of you wasted a lot of time. And I know it’s funny hearing this from me because I took part in it, but I’m only saying this because he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t particularly like him right now, he’s a nice guy, and you deserve someone like him.” She enunciated, azure hues embodying such sympathy that had you taken aback.

“You loved him back then, too. I could see it, and I could see it in him, too. That’s what I always wanted, and maybe that’s why he intrigued me so much. But I knew he never got over you.” 

You could feel your heart skip a beat, it wasn’t anything new, but hearing this from her, it meant something. 

You needed to take control of your feelings, and hearing Chrissy’s words was doing nothing but fuel them more. “Chrissy stop—”

“No, Pinky! He told me! He told me it was you! It had always been you!” She exclaimed, her face growing a nice pink color as you stood frozen.

Your brain felt mushy, rest of your body felt so warm, but still that anger lingered. Why couldn’t he just tell you this? Why couldn’t he just show you?

“What?” You mumbled, brows pinched together.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, sighing at your reaction.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you this, and tell you to get your head out of your ass. I know I’m the last person you wanted to hear this from, but I had to at least make one thing right for you because I know I fucked up every other thing.”

You wanted to tell her to stay the fuck out of it, you wanted to tell her it was all because of her. That she basically ruined your life. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t all her, it was Billy, too. It wasn’t all her, Eddie played a part in it, too. 

But you weren’t going to waste your breath, you didn’t need to blow up in her face for her to know she was wrong, she needed to let that feeling sink in. You weren’t going to forgive her, and you didn’t need to make a fuss about it to feel real. 

This was it. A closure. 

“I’m sorry, for everything. And I know that you won’t forgive me, but that’s okay. I’m sorry, but please listen to what I just said. Please don’t get in your head and try to ruin something this perfect, okay?”

A peaceful smile appeared on your lips, and you took a deep breath. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” You weren’t going to give her any satisfaction or approval, her words didn’t mean a thing. 

“Goodbye, Chrissy.” You mumbled. 

You could see her stammering, struggling to open her mouth, because she couldn’t say anything else, and this is what she promised, five minutes. It was over. 

You backed yourself against the wall, fingers fishing out the pack of cigarettes sitting in the pocket of your jacket. 

Without having anything else left to say, she left. And you heaved a sigh of breath, the tip of your cigarette smoldering when you lit it. 

You inhaled with eyes squeezed shut, head swirling with much to think about. But at least you were alone. Finally, some space for you to think, and to lay out a little bit of your stress with the most unhealthy outlet.  

And of course, that peace lasted for about a few minutes, just when you had finished your cigarette, squishing the remains on the nearest trashcan, Eddie appeared, lightly squeezing your arm to have your attention.

“What?” You snapped when you saw him, eyeing the way he looked taken aback. 

His hands held up in front of his chest in defeat, clearly not understanding your sudden rage. The laughter around you had died, people who were smoking outside the bar were clearly more entertained by your drama. 

With a huff, you dragged Eddie away from it all, still close to the bar but far away to not have any other distractions. 

He sighed, brows etched with worry. “Why did you leave?”

Your hand flew to your forehead, trying to calm your nerves, trying to clear your mind. “Eddie, are you kidding me?” You scoffed, arms wrapped across your chest defensively. “You can’t just drag me away from James, dedicate songs to me and—”

His forehead puckered. “Why not? They’re all about you anyway,” he said with a sly smirk. 

“Aurora, She’s Thunderstorms, Zero, Forget Her, Resolve, Fool, two fucking albums, all dedicated to you, you know that.”

“These notes? These stupid notes I’ve been carrying?” He huffed loudly, hand quick to fish inside of his back pocket, aggressively flipping through the pages. “Even if every nerve in my body were numb I’d still be able to feel her.” He turned the page toward you before flipping again. 

“I have tried to forget you but I can’t, you invade my dreams, my mind, my whole fucking life. You’re stuck in me and I don’t have the heart to get you out.” He shook his head, reciting it all like it was nothing, but you felt all of it. 

His notes making you dizzy. His words scrambling your mind like never before. 

“She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever. That one is uh—in a song, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing with how passionate he was getting, and you held your breath, it’s like you were staring into his soul. 

Stark naked. Laying bare, he really was doing this. And you didn’t want him to stop, even though your mouth suggested otherwise. 

“And so much more embarrassing stuff that I don’t want to include to not ruin my chances,” he muttered with a lazy smile, and you hated that you could feel it in your skin, the flutters, stomach flipping in the best possible way. 

“All fucking about you. Because it was you, from the moment we met.”

“S—stop,” your mouth betrayed you, it was the furthest thing from the truth, and you needed to hear more. You needed the reassurance, you needed him to convince you. More than anything in the world. 

But it was all so scary, and he was so close to you that you could feel his passion integrated into your veins. 

“Why, Pinky, why should I stop? Why do we have to tip-toe around each other, huh?” He was desperate, eyes flashing with a newfound of desire for you, he wasn’t going to let it go this time.

And it scared you, him being this determined, getting so close to what you actually felt was making your skin crawl, because the way you could feel your heart thumping against your ribcage wasn’t normal. What he was making you feel wasn’t normal. “Because w—we can’t!”

“We can’t what?” He complained, a deep sigh escaping his lips. 

“W—we can’t do this, you can’t—”

He shook his head with his brows puckered. “Who are you to decide that? I want to, I so badly want to,” He spat, taking a step closer to you, face merely inches away from you. 

His gaze was dangerously inviting, those alluring amber eyes melted into yours, making your pupils dilate, breath hitching as you struggled to keep him away. “Please, Eddie, d—don’t.”

You gulped, hand raising to put a space between the two of you, but it was impossible. He was in your veins now. “Too much has happened, you with Chrissy and—” You didn’t even know what you were blabbering about, just anything to stop your feelings from getting out. 

“Chrissy was a mistake!” He retorted with a hiss. He hated that you saw Chrissy as a problem between the two of you. Yes, he fucked up, but it really was a mistake, he’d take it all back in a heartbeat if he could. 

Your gaze narrowed, that pettiness returned when you scoffed. “Which time, when you kissed her or when you brought her to brunch?”

Eddie let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head when he looked at you with a dumbfounded look. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He took a breather. “I can’t believe you’re doing that again,” he mumbled, realizing that it wasn’t going to be easy to get you out of this mindset. 

It was going to be hard, to convince you of anything, and he understood that, he had trust issues himself, but he wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

You crossed your arms against your chest, gaze avoiding him momentarily. “Doing what?” You muttered.

“You just— you get scared when things get serious, running away when it gets just even a little bit too real,” He scoffed, angling closer to you, fingers ruffling through his curls in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You call me a coward and fucking look at you!” He snapped, hands gesturingly pointing to you.

“Scrambling just at the thought of us being together.” He argued, some part of him feeling a bit insecure, that maybe you didn’t want this. But, no, he saw that glint in your eyes, he knew the little angry twitch on your lips. You felt the same. And all you needed was a little push. 

You breathed, mind scrambled and trying so hard to convince yourself to leave. “T—that’s not it, you—uh you just don’t get it!” You complained with a huff. 

Another step closer. One more step and his lips would be on yours, Eddie knew this, you knew this. His gaze momentarily drooped down to your lips, then back to your dilated pupils. 

“Then make me understand, let me help you, don’t fucking run, not this time.” It was a little jab, but something needed to get you to spill, he was playing all the right cards and you were getting overwhelmed.

“J—just stop!”

“Why? Fucking why? Tell me one good fucking reason as to why we shouldn’t try it, we never even gave it a chance!” He ranted, veins in his forehead popping with how much he was trying to keep it all together. And you weren’t even trying. 

“We wouldn’t work, okay?” 

He shook his head. “Not good enough,” He argued. 

“W—we’re on two different paths now, Eddie.” You didn’t have any good excuses, he was right. 

“Not good enough.” Once again, that same arguing tone. 

You huffed. “Too much time passed and—”

“Not fucking good enough!” He cursed, hands landing on your shoulder to keep you in place, and your cheeks flushed immediately, while still trying to deny it. You were pathetic.

“Stop being a fucking coward!” He seethed, eyes fiery and red. 

Why were you insisting on being so fucking stubborn? You were driving him crazy, yet it wasn’t going to stop him. 

Coward is what had you scrambling. Because you knew he was right. “Fuck you,” You spat, body jerking quickly to leave, feet picking up quickly as Eddie groaned loudly.

So. Fucking. Stubborn. 

He was quick on his feet, letting curses slip past his lips before he yanked you to him, earning a small gasp from your lips before you finally faced him. 

Gaze mellow, but just as fiery, your furrowed brows and dilated pupils only encouraging him more and more. Flutters in your stomach had never left, your skin was burning, everywhere, but specifically on the hold he had on you. 

You didn’t manage to utter anything else, you couldn’t because he had you this time. There was no running away from it, your heart was hammering so hard inside of your chest that you were sure he could hear it. 

His hold on your arm was firm but somehow gentle, letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you go.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but he interrupted, his hands now firmly cupping your cheeks, squishing you with force, and you couldn’t help the contended sigh that left your parted lips. “I’m not letting you run away, not this time,” He mumbled, words sounding like silk falling from his lips, all you could do was gaze into him. He stood inches away from you, breath fanning against your face.

He licked his lips desperately, gaze drooping to your candy-glossed, needy lips. Face so close that you could feel the desperation radiating off of him. And you shared it. You managed to take a quick breath before his hand fisted your hair and his mouth crashed down to yours.

He pressed you harder against his chest, breathless, your lips molded together, a perfect fit. And he could taste the Cosmopolitan on your tongue, a tinge of alcohol mixed with your sweetness, making his head spin, a taste he realized he’d never have enough of. 

Those little thumps your heart did were now out of control, possibly pounding a million beats a second. His small stubble scratched against your chin, rough, it should’ve made you uncomfortable yet all it did was make you kiss him harder, shutting up your brain as your mouth replied to him, kissing him back with just as much force, you melted into him, melted into his hold, and you let him engulf you, fully, completely. 

Plushy lips slightly parted apart, his tongue slipped past between your teeth, your hand finding its way to his hair, feeling the curly strands between your fingers, it’s softer than you expected and your lips parted to let out a slight whine as you tugged at them.

All those years of wishing, all those years of wanting, yearning, and needing exploded into this. Kissing like your lives depended on it, chests pressed against each other, Eddie’s hand slipping to your waist, desperately tugging you closer to him as if that was even possible. 

Your heart exploded into your chest, his tongue not wavering the chance to explore yours, sucking on it, greedily, desperately. 

The background noises disappeared, the cackles of the girls, the booming music coming from inside of the bar, and the honks from the busy street. They ceased to exist and it was just you and him. Feeling each other, completely, fully. 

You knew at some point one of you had to pull away, but none of you dared to, it was just pure desire, a hunger that couldn’t be sated. 

All the years spent yearning and pining, acting like two fucking idiots. 

He wanted to breathe you, drink you in, and he wasn’t intent on letting you go. Ever.

You from five minutes ago who wanted to refuse him, refuse this was an absolute fucking idiot. Gone. You tasted like the sweetest honey and he tasted like everything you wanted and more. It’s even needier than the first kiss, more sure, it’s like a promise. 

This is it. Both of you can feel it. This finally changes everything. 

final authors note — uhhhh so yeah... if yall wanna talk about that my asks r open LMAO.