#eddie really thought he did something with that pick up line huh

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi since ur request is open 👀I would like to request Eddie X wife reader since it’s mother day . Maybe Eddie has a surprise for the reader for mother day and he really show how much he appreciates her . And even uncle Wayne is willing to babysit their child .

Aww, this idea sounds so cute! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!

husband!Eddie x wife!reader

You and Eddie had been been married together for four years, but this was your first Mother’s Day celebrating as a mother after you had your daughter, Charlotte and Eddie had insisted on making it perfect for you. You had just gone back to work and were exhausted with having to take care of a baby on top of it, so Eddie had planned a date for the two of you to show you how much he appreciated you as his wife and the mother to his child.

Wayne had insisted on watching Charlotte while the two of you spent some much needed time by yourselves. Eddie had planned for the two of you to watch your favorite movie while you snuggled up on the couch with an array of all of your favorite snacks. He didn’t think it was nearly what you had deserved, but you had been so tired that he thought that it was something you were going to enjoy.

When Eddie had told you what you were going to do to celebrate, you almost cried, feeling so grateful that he somehow knew exactly what you wanted. You knew he was going to plan something, but were wanting it to be low key and that was exactly what he had come up with. Sometimes you were convinced he could read your mind.

“What movie were you thinking, lovely?” Eddie asked as you looked over the collection the two of you had accumulated over the years. It was a mix of your collections and some you had bought together.

You were torn between a rom com and a thriller but ended up choosing the rom com because you needed something like for the mood you were in.

“10 Things I Hate About You?”

“Pick whatever you want, hon. It’s your day.” Eddie secretly wanted you to pick that one because he loved when you told him he looked like Heath Ledger.

You popped the VHS into the VCR and settled onto the couch, snuggling into Eddie’s side as the movie played. You had both seen the movie so many times that you always ended up quoting it to each other when your favorite lines came up.

Eddie turned to you while you quoted yet another line and couldn’t help but fall even more in love with you than he already had. You were so beautiful and sweet and kind that it was hard for him not to. He couldn’t believe that you had agreed to go out with him so many years ago and had stuck by his side ever since. He really was one lucky man.

“What?” You asked, turning to him, even though you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “Just like looking at you.”

“Aww, Eds, I like looking at you too.” You leaned towards him and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before snuggling even further into him.

As much as you liked spending time alone with Eddie, you had to admit that it felt odd not having to listen out for a baby’s cry. And if you were being honest, you actually missed it. You missed rocking Charlotte back to sleep and feeling her head rest against your shoulder while you did it.

You turned to Eddie once again, not really enjoying the movie anymore since you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. You wondered if he would be okay with cutting your date short to go pick your daughter up. Maybe you weren’t ready to be alone just yet.

“What is it, honey?” His arm that was wrapped around your shoulders gave one of them a squeeze.

“I miss her.” You hated sounding like a clingy mother, but you couldn’t help it. You just missed your baby and thought you deserved to hold her with it being Mother’s Day and all.

“You want to go pick her up, don’t you?” Eddie really could read your mind.

“I guess I really am that mom, huh?”

“So what? I want to see her too.” That made you feel a lot better hearing him admit that. It made you feel less alone.

“You do?”

“Of course. I just really need to hold her.” The way he said the words was so soft and gentle and it warmed your heart. It had only been a few months and the girl already had him wrapped around his finger.

“I’ll go get her from Wayne’s.” He stood up from the couch and you couldn’t help but fall even more in love with Eddie. So grateful to have him as a husband and the father to your child. He was everything you could have hoped to have in a partner and you couldn’t believe he was all yours.

“Are you sure?” You tried to stand up too, but he just pushed you back down.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “Your job is to just sit here and look pretty. You’re not lifting a finger today, alright?” He pressed a kiss to your waiting lips then grabbed his car keys before heading out the door to go pick up your daughter for some much needed snuggles.

[riality-check]

for the mini fic thing! 17 with Steve & Eddie? i love your drabbles!!

This is exceptionally late, and I'm slightly adjusting the prompt, but here you go!

17. "Things I wish you hadn't said"

"You know you gave me the nickname, right?" Eddie says.

He does that a lot, Steve has learned. Starts conversations in ways that sound like the middle of them. It's one thing among many he's noticed about Eddie, since March '86.

"What?" he says, half to make sure he heard him right, half because he's a little slow from the joint they've been passing back and forth.

"The Freak," Eddie explains. He says it like he's talking about the weather and takes another drag of the joint before he passes it back to Steve. "You regretted it right after you said it. Well, right after Carol shouted it loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear. Could see it right on your face."

Steve remembers that day. His sophomore year, so Eddie's junior. Daniel McCain had gone up to Eddie, angry as anything about something Steve just had to know about.

He's glad he's not that guy anymore.

"Do you know why he came up to me? Danny?"

"No," Steve says. He interrupted that would-be conversation before he could hear any of it. He had to make himself the star of the show, all the time.

A sophomore, and already king.

He was such a prick.

He passes the joint back to Eddie without taking another drag.

"Do you remember my nose being broken?"

Steve has a flash of a memory, of a younger Eddie with hair curling just under his chin, bandages on his bruised face.

He nods.

"I kissed him the day before," Eddie says. He extinguishes the joint in favor of picking at his fingernails instead. "He didn't take too kindly to it."

Oh, shit.

"And you asked him what he had to talk to The Freak about."

For probably the hundredth time in his life, Steve hates the person he used to be. Because not only did he give Eddie the nickname that stuck with him all through the rest of his high school career, not only did he add insult to literal injury, but Steve couldn't even remember this particular cruelty in a sea of cruelties.

He wants to go back in time and shake that kid by the shoulders until his head's back on straight.

"I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't said that," he says, and it doesn't sound like nearly enough.

Eddie waves him off. "Can't go back. Besides, if you didn't say it, someone else would have. Probably me, to be honest."

Steve leans back, propping himself up on his elbows on Eddie's bed. He looks up at Eddie, sitting near his nightstand, cross-legged and still in a way that he never is when he's sober. The way he's backlit makes his hair seem like a gold halo, makes every stark detail of his silhouette stand out in a way that keeps Steve from looking away.

Not that he wants to.

He doesn't think that logic holds up. It's not worth thinking about "what-ifs," but he can't help it. He can't help the thought that if he had watched his mouth for once in his life, Eddie wouldn't have been tormented with that particular phrase.

Eddie doesn't seem to resent him for it, though. Robin always says that no one is as hard on Steve as he is, and this seems to line up with that.

Still.

"If you're not mad about it, then why-"

"I couldn't think of a better way to tell you I like boys," Eddie blurts.

Oh.

Steve has had plenty of people interested in him. He knows how to flirt back, even when they're as awkward as Eddie is, eyes burning a hole through his mattress.

It's not often that he's interested back. Really interested back.

Huh.

Guess I like men, he thinks to himself, and while thinking can wait for the morning, when he's sober, he knows that what he feels isn't going to fade along with the high.

And he knows exactly which moves to pull.

He sits up and moves a little closer to Eddie.

"Why do I need to know that?" he teases.

Eddie's head snaps up. He studies Steve's face with slightly reddened eyes, and when he finds, or doesn't find, what he's looking for, he relaxes. "Because I like you."

"You gonna do anything about it?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, leaning closer. "I'm gonna kiss you, and I hope you won't bre-"

Steve runs out of patience. He grabs Eddie's face with both hands and pulls him in.

It's a good kiss. Definitely not one worth punching over.

"You asshole!" Eddie laughs when they break apart. "You didn't let me finish my line!"

"Are you mad about it?"

"A little!"

"Too mad to kiss me again?"

Eddie pauses, grabs Steve's face, and kisses him fiercely.

Something tells Steve the answer to that last question is a resounding, "Not at all."

Prompts here.

[fuctacles]

@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 2/3 | beta @stevesjockstrap 💚

T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider & meme doodle by me | Part 1 | Part 3 | Ao3

Eddie doesn't have to wait long for Robin to call him. He's chilling on his bed, plunking on the guitar and ignoring homework, when he hears a knock on his door.

"Son? There's a call for you," his uncle says through the closed door. (He'll say it's because he values his nephew's privacy, but they both know it's for plausible deniability.) Eddie is confused at first but then remembers he did give away his number that day, for a very important cause. He puts the guitar to the side and jumps up from the bed. 

"Who is it?" he asks upon opening his door, startling his uncle. The man raises his eyebrows at him.

"A girl that's not Chrissy," he says, voice carefully blank and yet calculatingly implying. "Robin from the sex store?"

If she has introduced herself like that, to a random dude's parental figure, he knows she and Chrissy would get along great. 

"It's not like that!" He rolls his eyes, before running toward the phone.

"Should I leave?" his uncle yells back.

"No, please, stay so you know it's a civilized conversation between a tutor and her student," he answers with a glare and picks up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Bold of you to assume we're a tutor and student already," comes the snark comment from the other end of the line. 

Eddie admits to himself, and only himself, that he might have jumped a bit on this one. 

"Sorry, I just had to say something normal to my uncle about the girl from the sex shop," he says pointedly and to her credit, the sex shop girl has the decency to make an apologetic hiss. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Blurting shit out without thinking is my cardinal sin."

He barks out a laugh. Fuck, she is perfect.

"No worries, I'm sure my uncle has heard worse."

"I have," Wayne mutters under his breath while sorting through their laundry nearby. Well, in the cramped trailer space, everything was nearby. Eddie grins at him and his uncle fips him the bird without even looking up. Eddie flips one back.

"I'm assuming your friend passed my message?" he asks, focusing back on the conversation with his soulmate's crush.

"Yeah, he did. But before I agree to anything, I must ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Are you hitting on me?" 

Eddie chokes on his tongue. 

"No?!" he reacts immediately. He hears her scoff into his ear so he tries to save it. "Not that you're not like, good looking or anything, you're just not my type and I actually really need the tutoring," he says the truth, even if it was just an afterthought in his plan to get closer to her for the wingmaning purposes. "Besides," he pauses, not sure if he should say anything. But something in the way Robin has been communicating so far makes him want to run his mouth without shame as well.

"Besides?" she prompts, slightly annoyed. It's her tone that helps him make up his mind in the end.

"I wouldn't do that to my friend," he says.

The line goes silent. Unnervingly so. Eddie gives her time to gather her thoughts and wonders if it was the wrong thing to say after all. If it was a confession too close to revealing his ulterior motives. 

"Hey—"

"Which one?" she asks abruptly, cutting him off.

"Huh?"

"I'm not into your DnD nerds."

Oh, so she did a background check on him. Well, not that there were many metalhead Eddies in Hawkins High. He presses the receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can pop his knuckles. His hands are itching for stimulation; guitar strings, a pen, a joint, anything. 

"What about nerdettes?" 

His uncle snorts somewhere in the background but Eddie is great and making up words, thank you very much and fuck you, Uncle Wayne, you're uncultured. 

"Yeah, that's..." Robin takes a loud, steadying breath. "That's more up my speed."

Eddie is not a quiet person. He finds it difficult not to voice his opinions and his favorite music has been described by some as "angry yelling". So he's very proud of himself for managing a silent little happy dance, even if he almost drops the phone in the process. He can feel his uncle's judgemental eyes on him but completely ignores them. 

"Great! I'll pass on the good news to her then." He smiles cockily against the receiver. 

"Yeah, uh, you do that." She coughs softly. "So um, am I safe to assume you are scheming to land your friend a date with me?"

"Well..."

"And the fact that I can tutor you, a super senior, while doing it, is just a cherry on top?" 

"Super super senior," Eddie corrects her. "But, uh, yeah, you'd be right." Eddie has a feeling they'll get along smoothly. Maybe there was another universe where they were platonic soulmates as well. 

"Does tomorrow work for you?"

"Uh, yeah," he says, almost forgetting what the call was supposed to be about. 

"Please do not bring your friend," she adds, a slight panic in her voice, 

"No of course." He nods furiously, even though she can't see it. "You haven't passed the soulmate's approval yet." 

"You guys are soulmates?" she asks, a bit too loud in his ear.

"Uh yeah?"

"Oh my god! Just like Steve and me!"

He blinks into the ether with a frown.

"You guys are soulmates?" 

"Duh! I've never met other platonic soulmates before. Do you think we could hang out, the four of us?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess?" He's a little bit lost, a ton ecstatic, but most of all, he wasn't prepared for all of this so he's scrambling for words to find. "I think it would be nice," he offers.

"Great. We can talk it out tomorrow, after school?" she offers and it takes him a moment to understand.

"Oh, yeah," he catches up finally, "The library?"

"Yeah, works for me. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he parrots. He listens to her drop one last goodnight before the line goes dead.

Wayne gives him a moment to contemplate on stuff, before walking up to him. He takes the phone from his loose grip and puts it back on the cradles.

"Wanna catch me up?" he asks. It's not demanding, it never is, the way he's heard some parents talk to their kids. It's a genuine offer to get involved in his nephew's life. Eddie's eyes finally focus on him.

"Can I get a beer?"

"Can I get a joint?" Wayne shoots back, making Eddie smile.

"Deal."

They sit around their tiny coffee table, sharing a joint while Eddie catches him up on the events since he and Chris stepped into a random sex shop in the middle of a storm. When he's finished, Wayne hoards the joint with a look of concern in his eyes, despite Eddie reaching out for his turn on the weed.

"Son." His voice turns stern, letting him know it's important and he should listen.

"What?" Eddie whines instead, making one more pathetic flail for the reefer. 

"So you meet this guy twice on sheer accident, your soulmates seem to be interested in each other and he has a DnD tattoo, which is something you are very interested in."

"Yeah?" Eddie frowns, completely oblivious to where his uncle is going. He reached out again but the joint was just flying further out of his reach. 

"Son. Don't you think the DnD soulmate he's looking for, might be you?" his uncle says bluntly, clearly the weed speaking through him properly.

Eddie shakes his head.

"I don't have the tattoo to match."

"Kid, I will smack you into a different state," Wayne says flatly and seems about ready to act on his threat. "Do they teach you nothing at school?"

"I don't know, I'm not learning anything."

Wayne glares at him while Eddie gives him an innocent smile. 

"I knew a guy," he says, the patience for his nephew thin yet endless. "Whose mark complimented his wives. He had a fork and she had a knife."

"You're joking," Eddie says with a delighted smile.

"No," Wayne smiles at him. "They opened a very successful bistro. I also knew a couple who got matching marks after they met."

"That's stupid." Eddie frowns. "How is that supposed to make finding your soulmate easier?"

Wayne shrugs.

"Since when anything in life is easy? Or smart? Or making sense?" 

His uncle stares at the wall with that ancient philosopher's gaze and Eddie finally manages to pluck the joint out of his hand.

"Okay, old man, I think that's enough weed for you today."

He doesn't protest and turns to his nephew instead.

"Every relationship is unique, you know? And so are the soulmate bonds."

Eddie knows it's true, but his mind doesn't want to wrap around the possibility suggested here. 

"You know what is very unique? A teenager and his uncle indulging in illegal substances on a random afternoon."

Wayne smiles at him, gathering him into a sideways hug.

"Ain't no other family like ours," he agrees. And then promptly breaks the moment by tightening his grip to give Eddie a noogie.

"Ow, no, Wayne! My hair!"

"I didn't know I booked a double lesson." Eddie raises his eyebrows when he spots not one but two people waiting at the library entrance. 

The shrimp in a hat next to Robin snorts.

"Please," he lisps. "I don't need tutoring."

Eddie frowns at the tone of the literal freshman in front of him and watches Robin cross her arms.

"I don't know, kid, your Latin could use some work."

The kid bristles, his hackles rising like an angry cat. It looks very amusing and forces Eddie to bite his lip not to smile.

"I am working on it! Thank you very much!"

"So," Eddie reminds them of his presence. "What is the nerd doing here?" he rephrases his question.

"The nerd," the kid repeats, his tone not offended, but proud, which Eddie can totally fuck with. "Heard you're a Dungeon Master?" 

Under all his cockiness and self-confidence, he couldn't hide the excitement and hope. Eddie smiled against himself and gave a small bow.

"Indeed I am. Eddie the Banished, Son of the Moon. At your service."

"Oh my god," Robin groans, while the kid seems about ready to pee his pants from excitement. "Let's go, you nerds, you can talk on the way." She rolls her eyes and turns without looking back. Eddie follows her in the direction of study rooms and the kid trots along next to him.

"I'm Dustin, by the way. A dwarven bard," he introduces himself.

"Dustin?" It rings a bell... "Wait, Steve's freshman friend?"

The kid grins with delight.

"He said we're friends?"

Uh-oh.

"I don't remember what he said exactly," he covers up quickly. "But I do remember he mentioned a party looking for a DM. Are you guys new to DnD?"

The smile he got for that question made him lowkey want to smack the kid and highkey excited to have players he won't have to spend a whole campaign explaining the rules to. He would, if needed, but having seasoned players with their own playing styles he doesn't know yet? That's trouble at the table that he couldn't wait to witness.

Robin refuses to let Dustin pass through the door professionally labeled (with a black marker on a piece of paper) as a 'student tutoring' room. She puts a hand against his chest when he tries to follow them.

"Listen, Henderson. I promised Steve I'd give this guy a chance..."

Eddie raises his eyebrow at that piece of information.

"And you're going to ruin it if you keep bothering us. Do you want Steve to be disappointed?"

Dustin frowns at her and the arm holding him back. He swats it away but doesn't pass the threshold. 

"That's blackmail," he huffs, crossing his arms.

"That's facts," Robin corrects him. "Go bother someone else. Eddie already agreed to play with you."

"But there's so much to discuss beforehand!" the boy protests. Eddie decides to throw him a bone. Mostly because he really needs to bring that wingmanning to a satisfying end.

"Can you come to our table tomorrow? I'll introduce you to Hellfire guys and we can talk out some details then."

Dustin immediately lights up.

"Can my friends come too?"

"Of course, man. Gotta test your vibe."

"Okay! Tomorrow at lunch!" He jumps up on the balls of his feet, slowly retracing backward. 

"Yeah, bud. See you then."

"See you! I'll show you the characters I've been working on!"

"You really don't have to—"

But he was already gone. Eddie sighs as Robin slams the door shut and falls against them with a groan.

"He's so exhausting," she complains. "Smart as hell, a great kid, but so exhausting."

Eddie chuckles. 

"Yeah, I can see that. How are you guys even friends?" he asks curiously. But Robin shakes her head, pushing herself away from the door. 

"Nuh-uh. You're not getting the backstory yet. Spanish first, chit-chat later."

Right. Studying. The bane of Eddie's existence.

Robin manages only half an hour of his stupidity (foreign-language-rejecting brain, she called it, but he'll keep calling it stupidity) before announcing a break.

She rests her head against her arms, blocking out the light, while Eddie runs through the million topics on his mind that he could start. Apparently, he stares at her hair long enough for her to notice it.

"Just say what's on your mind, man," she mumbles against the textbook.

"Did Steve really ask you to help me out?" This was not what he intended to ask, and certainly not what he was there for, but it was already out.

Robin lifts her head slightly.

"Yeah. He seems weirdly fond of you," she answers with her eyes narrowed like it was somehow his fault her friend was acting weird. 

Eddie shrugs, thinking of a reasonable explanation.

"Maybe he's hoping to find his soulmate if he keeps befriending DnD nerds," he offers. 

She snorts. It feels like she's laughing at him, though. He frowns. 

"Yeah. Speaking of soulmates, though..." She straightens up, suddenly nervous. "I think. And I might be wrong. But it felt similar with Steve, so I'm like, eighty percent sure..."

"Dude, just spill it."

Robin scrunched her nose.

"I have a feeling about Chrissy."

"Okay?" Eddie frowns. "I mean, that's why I'm here, right? To help you guys out?"

She shakes her head.

"No, like... A soulmate feeling."

Eddie's eyes go wide. 

"For real?"

She nods.

"I mean, at least I think so." 

"Well, you have something to compare it to, so I will trust your judgment," he reassures her. Only then do the meaning of her words hit him, and his eyes go wide. "Holy shit! You're Chrissy's soulmate!"

"Probably," Robin rushes in to add. "She didn't say anything about it, did she?" She's adamant about not getting her hopes up. If she was the only one who felt it, maybe it was a false alarm. Maybe she had eaten something bad earlier that day.

"No," Eddie admits with a twist of his mouth. "But she's not good at picking up this stuff. We had been friends for a month before we realized we were bonded."

That does make her feel better. She was the first to pick up on her bond with Steve as well, so maybe it was simply a Robin thing.

"But she's uh, she's interested, right?" she asks to clarify. It feels awkward but still a little less intimidating to have the buffer of her crush's best friend than talking to her directly. 

"She literally wouldn't shut up about you." Eddie grins at her. "Yesterday she dragged me to your store and was very disappointed not to find you there." Which, thinking of, reminds him of Steve. He frowns. "Did you tell Steve? Because I was positive for awhile, that he was hitting on Chris."

"No, I—"

Eddie slams his hand on the table, interrupting her.

"You sent him to spy!" He points at her accusingly. "He was asking about Chrissy for you!"

She shrugs, crossing her arms to give him a deadpan stare despite her fiercely red cheeks. 

"Yeah. And what are you doing right now?"

Eddie grins. Oh, he likes her. 

"Touche," he nods his head. "So, about that date..."

They agree on a date next weekend, and in the meantime, Eddie dusts off an old campaign of his. A one-shot to make sure he'll even want to play with a bunch of kids. Betwee them and the Hellfire guys there's more than enough players, but Dustin asks if he can invite Steve too.

"I don't invite an audience into game sessions," Eddie tells him with a frown. He's gathering their character sheets to know what he'll be dealing with.

"As a player!" Dustin corrects him. "I've been trying to get him to play with us forever and since it's a one-shot maybe he'll finally cave."

Eddie makes a face.

"I'm not taking in a newbie with all seasoned players," he protests.

"But he knows everything about the game! Because of his soulmate?" Dustin reminds him like he's stupid. And he kind of is, because it should be hard to forget trivia. 

"Uh, right." He scratches his cheeks. "Fine, I guess. But I want his character sheet pronto." 

At that, Dustin digs deeper into his bag to retrieve another sheet of paper from between the pages of his math textbook. Eddie groans.

"Are you kidding me? You little shit." But he takes Steve's character sheet from him. Dustin grins widely, satisfied with himself.

"Just this once," he assures. "Well, unless he likes it."

Eddie huffs, offended. 

"He's gonna love it. I'm a great DM."

"I'm sure you are and I'm sure he will. This Friday?"

"3 PM sharp." Eddie points at him.

"Aye aye," Dustin salutes, backing away towards the school crowd and inevitably running into some kid. Not for the first time, and probably not the last one either, Eddie wonders how someone like Henderson got himself involved with Steve Harrington.

Friday comes fast and Eddie is excited to have new players at his table again. Some idiots have been spreading shitty rumors about the game lately, so the interest has been scarce. And now he has three innocent freshmen at his table. And Steve Harrington.

He looks out of place between nerdy freshmen and metalheads. In Eddie's personal opinion, he even smells too well to be there. But he won't deny someone who wants to play. So he sets the scene and lets the dice roll. 

It started in a tavern but with a twist. The party heard a couple of leads and depending on which one they chose, it would lead to the proper adventure or immediate trouble. To everyone's surprise, when one of the NPCs stops talking, Steve is the one to speak up.

"He's lying. It's a trap."

"How do you know?" Mike, one of the freshmen, bristles. 

Everyone raises their eyebrows at Steve, who shrinks in his seat. 

"Uh, a hunch?"

It's a very spot-on hunch and the party is right to listen to him. 

The game proceeds and Eddie is enjoying himself, much like everyone else around the table. Well, maybe except for Steve. The further they went into the game, the quieter he got.

"Pee break!" Eddie announces around the halfway point and everyone scatters to use the bathroom, refill on snacks, or smoke. He's about to stop Harrington from leaving, but he sees him saying something to Dustin with a smile, his ass firm on the chair. And soon, there's only two of them left.

"You okay, man?" he asks without preamble. "If you don't like it I can kill off your character and you can go home," he offers. Usually, he would be meaner about it, but he's seen how much the guy means to Dustin. And to Robin. And Robin means a lot to Chrissy and Chrissy means a lot to him, and so the circle closes. He's not going to be mean to Steve Harrington. He doesn't even want to.

Instead of taking the out, Steve asks him a question.

"Is Bernard the traitor?"

Eddie smirks. Maybe Steve was more invested than he seemed. 

"I'm not answering questions like that, man. It's DM confidential."

Bernard was, in fact, a traitor. 

"He's leading them to the monster as an offering, isn't he?"

"What?" Eddie frowns. Did he read his notes somehow?

"He's killed his father that way too."

That... That wasn't in the notes. Eddie didn't write it down, it was an irrelevant backstory only for him to know.

"Did you write the story?" Steve asks, his brown eyes piercing. 

Eddie licks his lips and nods stiffly. He looks at Steve's hand instinctively, having a hunch of his own on how this story unfolds. 

Steve stands up and Eddie's eyes follow, for the first time studying him properly, how he deserves. His stupid preppy polo, his perfect hair, and the moles on his cheek. He raises his hand, the D20 tattoo on display.

"Shake my hand?"

Eddie sighs.

"Wayne's gonna beat up my ass," he murmurs before grabbing the offered hand. 

He lets out an undignified yelp and Steve lets go immediately, shock on his face. It was just a millisecond sting, nothing else, followed by an electric sensation across his body. He looks at his palm, at the point where their bodies just touched.

There is a matching dice tattoo on his skin. 

He shakes the dice experimentally. It rolls and lands on fourteen. Then ten. He looks up to find Steve's eyes on him, sparkling.

"What happened?!" Lucas suddenly bursts in, probably alerted by Eddie's yell. Dustin crowds in behind him, pushing in, and Jeff peeks curiously over their heads. But before Eddie can even start to explain anything, Dustin starts screeching.

"Oh my god! Are you guys soulmates?! You're soulmates! Oh my god, that's so cool! Holy shit Steve! I knew you'd get along!"

"Dude," Steve scolds him softly. Dustin deflates just a bit but he's still jumping.

"Guys," Eddie speaks up, surprised to even find his voice. "Five more minutes?" He looks up for support from Jeff, who gives him a nod and pulls the rowdy freshmen out of the room. The door closes and he has to pay attention to Steve again. He looks back at him and finds his face carefully blank.

"Disappointed?" he asks, making Steve recoil.

"What? Why would I... What?"

Eddie shrugs. 

"It's fine if I'm not what you expected. You're not what I imagined either."

Chrissy was a surprise, so he assumed if there was another soulmate out there for him, they would be more like him. He usually pictured another metalhead, maybe a hot guitarist, a fantasy writer, or a hot groupie obsessed with his music. A preppy guy living a quiet life in Hawkins? Not in a million years. 

Steve shrugs back.

"Robin isn't what I imagined either, but we work. I don't even know you, so how can I be disappointed?"

"Touche." Eddie grimaces. "Let's hang out sometime so we can speed up the process." 

Steve rolls his eyes but takes a small step towards him. Eddie lets him grab his hand and compare the matching tattoos on their palms. They were nearly identical, but with closer scrutiny, he could see the lines on Steve's were softer than on his. 

"We could make this weekend a double date if the girls agree."

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

But before he can elaborate, Steve's eyes widen, and his grasp on Eddie's hand tightens minutely.

"Shit, I just assumed you're into guys. I did that with Robin too, I'm so sorry." He's pulling his hand away, face red with embarrassment, but Eddie catches his fingers.

"Uh, no, I am. Both girls and dudes. You just... you know."

"Don't look the type?" Steve raises his eyebrow with amusement. 

"Not exactly," Eddie admits sheepishly. "Okay." He exhales. "Double date, huh? Yeah, I can do that." He nods mostly to reassure himself. Steve smiles and squeezes his hand gently before easing away from his grip. The noise behind the door was getting louder, meaning everyone was back from the bathroom break and seconds away from stomping in.

"Great. I always thought your eyes are beautiful," Steve says just before the party reenters the room. 

It's a lot of yelling and explaining before they can resume the game. It becomes the most unhinged playthrough Eddie has ever witnessed due to everyone making the most outrageous decisions to throw off Steve's omnipotence and make Eddie come up with lore and plot on the spot. 

When they are gathering their stuff a couple of hours later, he's exhausted in the best way.

Steve lingers, almost kicking Dustin out of the door. He even throws him the keys to the car, something he never does, but Eddie doesn't know that. He helps him gather his notes and figurines, which he doesn't protest like he would with others. They would snoop but what's the point in snooping when you already know the whole plot?

"That was fun," Steve admits as he hands Eddie the character sheets. "It's a boomer I can't enjoy the story since I already know everything."

Eddie lets out a soft hum while arranging the papers in his bag in a way they won't get damaged. 

"Gareth's been wanting to DM for a while. It would be nice to take a break once for a change and you could play without getting the plot spoilered," he offers. 

"I'd like that." Steve smiles. Eddie grins at him.

"Okay! I think that's all," he says, looking around for any misplaced dice. "Thanks for helping me out. These bastards always make a run for it as soon as we're done."

"You just don't want them touching your stuff," Steve points out, following him to the door as he fishes out the keys to close behind them.

"That's true, yeah."

Steve hovers behind him while he closes up and Eddie decides to spare him the awkwardness.

"You can go, I still have to give these back to the janitor. I'm sure Henderson is itching to take your car for a spin in the parking lot."

Steve straightens up at the reminder.

"Shit, yeah. I better go to him." He runs his hand through his hair, hesitating for one last moment. "See you tomorrow?"

Eddie almost forgot their double date is this Saturday, but he nods at him. 

"Yeah, see you." He's about to turn around and go their separate ways when Steve leans in.

It's just a soft brush of his lips on his cheek, but Eddie's body immediately sets on fire. 

"See you," throws Steve softly before leaving.

Eddie tightens his grip on the strap of his bag. The keys are digging into the meat of his palm, into the new tattoo there. 

"Oh my god."

[Steve, relating the news.]

[morganski-19]

For the friends AU - you gotta do the one with the leather pants…I can’t decide who would be that character, but I think it would be hilarious!

I really enjoyed the first snippet. Made me feel like I was watching both Friends & ST! Great job!

I thought about this for so long, and then it just hit me. Eddie and Argyle. Eddie with the leather pants, obviously, and Argyle on the other line. Hope it lives up to expectations, I kind of let it run and they end up having a deeper conversation at the end (for set up purposes). But still funny.

The One with the Leather Pants

(for this one, imagine like a sitcom split screen, switching pov on a phone call type situation)

Eddie sits frantically on the toilet, waiting for Argyle to pick up the phone. He’s wearing nothing by a T-shirt and tight boxers, his leather pants halfway up his calves. It was broiling in the apartment he was in. And, in an attempt to leave silently after his latest hookup, he brought his clothes to the bathroom to clean up and get out. But his pants would not slide up his legs any higher. He can’t exactly walk out of here pants-less in the middle of the night.

“Hey dude,” Argyle says when he picks up the phone. Lounging on his couch in baggy pajamas while watching tv.

“Thank god, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Eddie sighs in relief.

“Nah, dude. I was up watching some tv. What’s up?”

Eddie looks down at his legs, letting out another sigh in premature defeat. “I got a kind of situation.”

Argyle leans his head on his hand. “What kind of situation?”

“You know those leather pants I wear when I go out sometimes. Well, I wore them out tonight, met a guy, we went back to his place to hook up. And his apartment is like a million degrees, and I was sweating a lot. So, to make an already long story short, I can’t get my pants back on.”

Argyle nods, taking in the information. “Huh, that’s rough dude.”

“I’m aware,” Eddie says while raising his eyebrows. “Any idea what to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says while scratching his chin. “Not exactly the best at this stuff. Should have called Nancy. Or Robin, she would know.”

Eddie presses his hand against his forehead. “Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to get laughed at and humiliated, so I called you.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet. Hold on, let me think.”

“I’m up for literally anything right now, I can’t get them past my knees.”

“Is the guy you’re with still up, can you ask him if it’s cool for you to take a shower to cool down and wash the sweat off.”

Eddie glances at the closed door, knowing that the guy is passed out. “Not exactly. And I’ve put on leather pants after a shower before, it’s still not the best.”

Argyle hums. “Ok, so something else to get the sweat off your legs. Is there baby powder there?”

Eddie awkwardly stands up and waddles to get in front of the medicine cabinet. Shaking his head to get rid of the voice in his head saying not to look through someone’s stuff. He opens the cabinet to find a small bottle of baby powder. “Yeah, weirdly enough.”

“Try that.”

It could be worse. Eddie puts his phone on the counter and pours the baby powder into his hand. More comes out that he means to, making it puff into the air when he starts to rub it on his legs. In desperation, he forgets to wash the excess off his hands and tries to pull his pants up. He gets it just past his knees before the leather slips out of his hands. Eddie grabs the counter in order to not fall over.

Now realizing his mistake, Eddie stands and washes the baby powder off his hands and tries again. Still doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that didn’t work,” he says after picking up the phone again.

“Damn, ok. Do you think it has to do with the sweat on your legs or that they widened a bit with the heat?”

Eddie crosses his arm and grabs his elbow, leaning against the sink. “Probably the heat thing, I don’t know,” he says with a tilt to his head.

Argyle hums again. “Lotion to try and slide the pants up your legs?”

“I’m not going to get lotion on my pants, that’s going to be a bitch to clean. How would that even work?”

“Imagine it, dude, a little lube so everything can get to where it needs to go.”

Eddie snorts. “Not imagining what you want, but it made me laugh.”

Argyle takes a second before bursting out laughing through the phone. “Yeah, ok, I see it now. Maybe try wetting a washcloth, or something, with cold water, try to cool your legs down.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Will take a while thought, was trying to leave without the guy noticing.”

“Ohh, one of those types of hookups. You should have at least said goodbye to the guy.”

Eddie finds a spare hand towel and turns on the tap. After the water gets cold, he wets the towel and wrings it out. Sitting back on the toilet, he drapes the towel over his legs and just waits.

“I said goodnight, that’s enough for a lot of people. I just, didn’t want him to get attached. I’m fine with casual stuff, just not ready for something serious yet.”

“I see, still burned from the last one. I got you.”

Eddie leans back on the toilet. “Hard not to be burned when you give three years to someone, move to a new city, leaving everything that you know, and they figure he’s been cheating on you for months.”

Argyle nods his head in understanding. “Yeah, it’s sucks. But you can’t let that hold yourself back, dude. You got so much to give, you’ll find someone else sometime.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “I know. I’m just scared to get hurt again.”

“Getting hurt sucks, I know, I’ve been there. But you never know what’s going to happen if you don’t try.”

Eddie makes a thoughtful face, knowing exactly who he’s been running away from. What feelings he’s been trying to avoid.

“When I called you, I didn’t exactly expect a midnight therapy session.”

Argyle snorts. “I am known for my midnight therapy. But seriously though, if you’re not ready to date yet, that’s fine, dude. But, when you are, I think he might be waiting for you too.”

Eddie opens his mouth slightly in shock. “I don’t exactly know who you’re talking about.”

“I have eyes, dude. I see you staring. And I also see him staring back. But no pressure, this is your timetable, not mine.”

“Thank you. Why are you up anyway? Don’t you go to bed at like ten?” Eddie stands, draping the now warm towel up on the towel rack.

“Jonathan’s a chronic insomniac, so I stay up with him sometimes when it gets bad. Sometimes being around someone else helps him fall asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Has he been there the entire time I’ve been talking to you?”

Argyle turns to face Jonathan, who was sitting next to him the whole time, half asleep. “Yeah, but I’m like ninety percent sure he’s asleep.”

“Ninety percent! Poke him, see if he moves or something.”

“I’m not going to wake him up, dude. What do you not get about chronic insomniac?”

“Fine, I guess that’s fair. Hold on, I’m trying this again.”

It’s a struggle, and Eddie may have hit his head on the counter, but he gets his pants up. Zips them even.

“I got them, thanks for picking up. Mind keeping this between us?

“I can only promise that if Jonathan is actually asleep. He’s a huge gossip when he wants to be.”

“I’m praying that he is. How’s that going, by the way?” Eddie asks, turning the tables back on Argyle.

Argyle stares, a bit longingly, at his best friend sleeping on the couch. A blanket that Argyle draped over him earlier, tucked underneath his chin. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re not the only one I’ve seen staring either. And out of the both of us, your situation is a lot better than mine.”

Argyle smiles. “I don’t believe that but thank you.”

“No problem. Talk to you later. I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow as a thank you.”

“No need, dude. Text me when you get back to your place.”

“Will do,” Eddie hangs up the phone. He cleans up the small mess in the bathroom he made with the baby powder before leaving. Grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and, successfully, leaves unnoticed.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging

[delicate-luv]

Two Become One ~ Chapter Two

Summary: The morning after a night spent with Eddie, your suspicions begin to rise on who he really is.

CW: 18+, MDNI, one night stands, cheating, mention of miscarriage, mention of pregnancy, home wrecking, minimal use of Y/N, fem!reader,

Masterlist

———————————————————————

You rubbed your eyes that morning, not recognizing where you were. You had a pounding headache and never felt more like a zombie in your life. You let out a loud groan as you flipped onto your other side, making the whole bed shake.

'Shit. I should not have done that.'

You regretted doing that as soon as you heard the man next to you yawn and slowly sit up.

"Woah. Who the fuck are you?" He jumped up, seeing a mysterious woman in his bed.

"I'm y/n. I was at your show last night. You invited me here.”

He put his palms over his face. "Oh, shit."

You could tell he suddenly remembered what happened by the way his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose and he sighed. "You should leave. I should have never brought you here."

"Huh?"

"You can't be in here? I have- never mind. Anyway, you have to leave, now." His tone becoming more of an alarmed one.

He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. You chased after him. "What are you talking about? You gave me a cigarette with your number on it." What was so urgent? What is he hiding? Your hangover could wait.

"Wait, what? I only give those out to fans who think they'll have a chance with me. They call me, and I never answer. It's only to instill false hope that I'll sleep with them. I never actually sleep with them!" He became frantic, shoving a pair of black skinny jeans on, whispering yelling "shit!" and "fuck!" amongst mumbling other obscenities that you couldn't quite make out.

"What time is it?" He asked in a panic, slipping on a black tank top.

You looked at a nearby clock on the wall. "Just about 10 a.m."

"Son of a bitch! I have to go. You can find your own way out." He ran out the door, grabbing his keys and wallet.

The fuck was that for?

Before you wanted to even process that fact that you cheated on Ezra last night, you decided to do something even more morally wrong. You snooped around his apartment, trying to find pieces of his life. You needed to know more. He seemed too perfect. Not a single rockstar lives a perfect life and isn't hiding something deep.

The first place you looked was his nightstand. He had guitar pics lined up, a pair of die, some old photographs, a pack of condoms, nothing out of the ordinary. You then walked over to his closet. There was a shoe box filled with things that had 'Otis' written on the front in black sharpie. There was a hand drawn heart that was also on the front.

Your heart was telling you to rip open that box, and dig through the belongings. Your brain was telling you no, to give him privacy. You were always the person who did what your brain wanted, but in this case, you followed your heart.

The first thing you saw was a sonogram picture. You let out a loud gasp and immediately regretted your decision. You closed the box up quickly and ran out of his house. You called Scarlett to pick you up down the road.

You couldn't believe what you had done.

Half of the car ride home was spent with you staring out the window, rethinking the recent events.

"What's so bad? You were gonna cut things off with Ezra soon anyways."

"Scarlett, it's different." You groaned.

"How, exactly?"

"I snooped through his things." You said quietly, full of shame. It was just loud enough for her to hear.

"Oh my god!" She gasped. "You know that's top 10 things not to do during a hookup."

"I couldn't help it. There's just something that I saw in him."

"Yeah yeah, if I got a penny for every time you said that, I'd be rich right now."

"So, do you want to know what I saw?"

"Lay it on me. I don't think this story could get any worse."

"I opened a shoebox that has 'Otis' written on it. I just thought it would be like a box for a dog, because Otis is, like, a dog name. But no, there was a sonogram picture. I didn't take a good look at anything else but I could tell it was bad. There was a lot of light blue, which I'm assuming could be baby clothes, maybe a baby blanket?"

Scarlett slammed on the breaks, "Jesus Christ! y/n l/n is a home wrecker!" She broke out into laughter.

"Scarlett! It's not funny! I think I just had a one night stand with a man with a baby! He could even be married!"

"Was he wearing a ring?"

"He was wearing a lot of rings. I didn't get a good glance at his ring finger." You started to bite your nails anxiously. You knew you had to call the number on the cigarette.

You thought about Eddie and his situation for the remainder of the day. 'Was he married? Was Otis even his baby? Why didn't you see or hear a baby the entire night? Maybe he and his partner had a miscarriage? Is his partner pregnant right now? Why didn't he say something?' The many possibilities roamed your head and kept you up that night. You knew you had to do something to fix this mess you've created.

You were the girl all of the people in your town knew and loved. Your life was always the talk of the town. You had the perfect life, perfect boyfriend, perfect house, perfect friends, perfect clothes, perfect job. Who knew you would be the one to break up a family?

After a week of the thoughts eating you alive, you couldn't take it anymore. You dialed the number on the cigarette, but there was no answer. You knew what was coming, there was no other choice.

You drove over to Eddie's home. You needed answers. Luckily, you could easily find where he lived since it was the only trailer park in town.

When you arrived at his trailer, you slammed the car door shut. Anger fueled your walk to his front door. You were finally going to get the answer you deserved.

You banged on the front door multiple times until a voice could be heard from the inside.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, relax!"

He slightly opened the door, sighing in disappointment when he saw it was you, and slamming it back shut. Before he could get the door all the way closed, you stopped it with your foot.

"Eddie, we need to talk." You opened the door wider to reveal Eddie shirtless, and he was bouncing a 2 year old on his hip. You gasped. "Is this your-"

"Yep. Now what do you want?"

"Are you married? What was that one night stand to you?"

He shrugged. "Well, that one night stand to me, was a one night stand. I don't know what you mean."

"Are you married?"

"Not anymore."

Your mouth fell open. You immediately jumped to conclusions, thinking you were the reason they are no longer married. "Did I possibly...have anything to do with the fact that you are no longer married?"

He quickly denied. "No....I don't get it. Is there something important or...?"

"Why didn't you tell me you had a son?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to tell complete strangers about my son." He said in his classic, sarcastic tone.

You were admiring his tattoos and his muscles for so long that you jumped out of the trance when his son started to cry.

"Are we done here? My son is hungry."

"Answer your phone next time and we won't have this problem." You said before letting the door close on him and walking away.

[munsonsreputation]

Sweet Nothing

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [9.6K] I did my best to proof read

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, cursing, reader opens up about jealousy, steve's parents being absolutely horrible (what's new?), overall just a bunch of tooth-rotting fluffiness.

summary: when you're gifted a keyboard, you and steve sit and write a sappy love song together about your relationship--all the good, bad, and ugly, but through everything just wanting each others sweet nothings.

_

“Steve!” you wailed, smacking the keys of the piano with frustration as the notes rung through your shared bedroom until they withered and he made his way through the door with a towel draped around his shoulders and sweatpants hanging onto his hips. 

He laughed, following you hurl yourself against the wooden floor where you once sat and now grumbled dramatically. Walking over to you and kneeling down, he smoothed your hair away from your face so that he could see the pout and stress clouding your eyes, “What’s the matter, baby?” 

“It’s impossible! This instrument has it out for me or something!” You glared back at the black and white keyboard like your mortal enemy as Steve snorted, hand coming out to coddle your skull and squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Didn’t Eddie say he was gonna teach you next weekend?” He rose his brows, throwing his towel off to the side, where you would pick it up later and scold him later for not hanging to dry properly. 

But right now you were biting your lip guiltily, “Forgive me for being impatient…I just want to play and write a song.” 

He raised his brows curiously, lips in a placid thin line, “A song, huh?” 

“You heard that right.” 

“About what?” He requested, and you blushed, hiding your cheek against your shoulder, gawking up at him with blown out heart eyes, “About us?” 

“Us?” He pestered, fingers gripping your chin gently to stop you from hiding your endearing embarrassment. 

You enclosed your palms around his wrists, shaking your head, “Stop, you’re going to make fun of me!” 

“Am not, baby—I think it’s quite sweet, actually…lemme help you write it?” 

“You’d really do that with me? You don’t think it’s corny?” You bit your lip, and he grinned, tilting his head with a tsk, “I never said it wasn’t corny, but it damn sure is sweet and I want to be apart of it too.” 

You scoffed jokingly, flipping him off with both hands before he cackled vehemently, pointing at your keyboard, “C’mon, show me what you’ve got so far.” 

“Fine, but don’t judge me.” You warned, pointing at him and he gave you a soothing nod, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce beside you while your fingers slowly played the notes, humming along to give your boyfriend an idea of what you had so far. 

When you finished, you glanced up at him, fingers slowly pulling away from the keys, “So? What do you think?” 

“It sounds so peaceful.” He smiled, placing a hand over yours now resting in your lap. 

“Really?” Your voice dripping with surprise, “It’s not too nursery rhyme like?” 

Steve shook his head, squeezing your hand in affirmation as he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, “Kinda reminds me of a lullaby—the melody is so sweet and soft.” 

You grinned, bringing his hands up to your lips, placing three kisses among his skin, before you let it drift down to your thighs where it laid. Your fingers, going back to the keys to repeat the arrangements with some silly lyrics you thought of off the top of your head. 

“I spy with my little tired eye, tiny as a firefly, a pebble that we picked up last July.” 

That little pebble. It was real. It used to sit prettily on Steve’s shelf, next to a framed polaroid of you and him, back when you two visited a local fair in Chicago last summer. There were vendors of all sorts, and one that especially caught your eye was a woman selling traditional Irish baked goods, among miniature knick knacks. She was a pure middle-aged lady who let you and Steve sample fresh breads and pastries. 

While Steve was busy learning about the baked treats, making sure none of them had ingredients you were allergic to, you made your way to the miscellaneous items. Fingers floating over intricately decorated vases and shiny four-leaf clover ash trays, pausing to take pictures for your scrapbook. And then you saw the small pile of pebbles. Different colors, sizes, and shapes. 

“I picked these from a pond in Wicklow.” The lady smiled warmly as she and Steve made their way over to you on the other side of the table.

You looked up, piqued with interest, “Is there any meaning behind the rocks?” 

Steve’s fingers gently rummaged through the mass, picking up a few to inspect them with a closer eye as the woman began to explain the history of the pebble toss. A Celtic wedding tradition that is said to bring in well wishes and happy hopes for the couple. 

“Pick one, baby.” Steve murmured into your ear, dangling his arm over your shoulders as you looked up at him through your lashes with eyes saturated with adoration. 

“Together?” You proposed, and he nodded with a sure smile, the two of you combing through the pebbles as the woman watched on with joy. 

The two of you settled on the tiny one. It was light tan hue with faint streaks of pink across it. And it was almost in the shape of a heart.

Perfect for you and Steve. 

As the woman packaged up your baked sweets, Steve snapped a silly polaroid of you, kissing the tiny stone you held between your fingers before the lady spoke, “I could take a photo of you two if you’d like.” 

“Please.” Steve responded thankfully, removing the camera strap from his neck and passing it to the lady. 

You took your place in front of Steve with your back of your head pressed against his chest, leaning into his warmth gratefully. And he settled his chin on top of your head, moving both arms to sling across your collarbones. The two of you smiling merrily as you held up the pebble to be seen clearly. 

With a click of the button, your photo was printed and the small bag of goods was placed in Steve's arms. You two offered the kind lady a warm smile and one last thank you as she bowed her head and said, “All the best, lovebirds.” 

He was transported back to that memory the second the lyrics trickled off your tongue like the sweetest honey he’d ever tasted. For the longest time, you had thought that you had misplaced the small treasure after heading back home and not finding it in your luggage.

But of course, one day when you and Steve were out on a date, you had asked him if he had any gum on him. When he reached inside his classic khaki pockets, there he felt the small stone against his fingertips and there he brought it out. Presenting you with the precious little thing sitting in his palm.

You gasped dramatically, as if Steve had pulled out a diamond ring. But this was even better. Throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into the biggest hug, then the tenderest kiss. 

“Down deep inside my pocket, we almost forgot it. Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?”

You looked in wonder as Steve’s skillful fingers were able to replicate the notes you were playing just now with no prior experience. You must have been thinking Steve was suppressing away his musical talents from you all this time, but in actuality Steve was just really observant. Especially when it came to everything that you did and enjoyed. 

He had been watching your fingers glide over the keys, recalling when to press down and change positions as you did. And he did so while singing the verses that were a response to the previous ones that were yours. 

“You’re a goddamn prodigy, babe.” You whispered, shaking your head with astonishment while Steve smiled, wriggling his shoulders carelessly. 

“Did you like that verse?” He asked, and you bumped your head eagerly, sitting up on your knees to reach for the notebook and pen that you had thrown aside out of irritation earlier that night, but here you were fully invested in this little song you and Steve were writing together. 

Steve followed you, eyebrows and forehead pushed up as the pen freely traveled across the lined paper with ease. Blessing the pages with ink that conveyed the collective thoughts of you and the love of your life. When your eyes eventually flickered up toward his, he blinked, finally coming back from the rapture you had him irrevocably trapped in. 

“Do you want to play while I write?” You suggested, already getting comfy as you brought your knees up and rested the notebook on your legs with the pen spinning in your fingers. 

He nodded, rubbing his hands together, “I’d love to, baby.”

“What are you thinking about in the next verse?” You proposed, tuning in to Steve play around with different keys, trying to find what would flow the best in his mind. 

He started off with your original chords, moving his fingers slightly to change the melody swiftly.

“Maybe we should go into the chorus after that part.” he answered, totally just suggesting it, but you trusted him. 

You always did. 

“Yeah,” you grinned, scooting closer to him just because you wanted to. 

“How about this…” 

He leaned over a tad bit to get a better view of the lyrics you had written just moments ago. His voice was calm, singing them to you with his digits moved methodically, and then he changed and sung some new lyrics that had come to him. 

“They said the end is coming. Everyone’s up to something. I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.”

Steve remembered when the gates had reopened. His own safety should have been this first thing that came to mind. But it was you. He’d never in his life had he sped through the streets of Hawkins, like he did that day. Mostly because you’d remind him every day before you two would part ways to, “Drive safely, I need you here.” 

But today, he needed to make it to you, quick. He zoomed through the roads with his friends screeching their heads off, urging for him to slow down. But you were the only thought in his mind. 

This truly felt like the end of the world. Everything in this town that they once called home was crumbling and falling apart in front of their eyes. People who had no idea that there was an alternate dimension living beneath them, were calling it an earthquake, but it was far worse than anything they could’ve imagined. 

When Steve had confessed to you everything that he knew about the Upside Down, he had fully expected you to flee this godforsaken town and leave him behind, because let’s be honest. Who wouldn’t? 

Yet you stuck around. You listened to him open up about all the demons he fought off and the trauma they created. You asked questions about that place. A lot of questions. After all, you’d never been in there, and Steve would never allow you to be. 

He answered each and every single one of your curious speculations about the other side. And when he didn’t have the answer for you, he’d ask his friends, hoping they would provide him with a better explanation so that you could understand. 

And you did. It definitely wasn’t easy at first, wrapping your head around the fact that there was something supernaturally haunted lingering in this town. And the first time Steve had ever brought it up, you had thought he was playing some sort of joke on you. But with just the look on his face and the manner of his voice, you could recognize that this was real. 

He would never lie to you about something so complex like this. He was searching for something.

To be heard. To be believed. To be comforted. And you provided all of that and more.

That day he was desperate for it. Wanting nothing more than to enclose his arms around you and hear you murmur the soft words of solace that made him feel like everything was going to be ok, even if tomorrow or the next day after that wasn’t promised at all. 

When he finally saw your house come into view through the smoke and rubble, he practically skirted into your driveway, thrusting the car into park as he hopped out, leaving Robin to deal with putting the emergency brake up and removing the key from the ignition. 

He frantically dug his fingers into his pocket, searching for the spare key you had made a copy of, just for him. Quickly, he unlocked the door, not even bothering to see if your parents were around as he entered the home, shouting your name, thinking he would need to search every room and inch of the house to find you. 

But there you stood, back facing him, not too long before you had turned around, hearing his voice echoing against the walls. 

“Outside, they’re push and shoving. I’m in the kitchen humming. All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.” 

He rushed to you. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, nearly lifting you off the ground as he hugged you tight. Tighter than he ever had before. You could feel the tears smearing down his cheek and tumbling onto your skin where he broke down. 

“S’ok…I’m safe. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby.” You murmured, tugging him into you just as urgently with your hands on the back of his neck and the other rubbing soothing circles onto his back. 

He didn’t pull away. Not for another minute, and when he did, he didn’t let you leave his arms. Only allowing enough space between the both of you for him to clearly see your face and kiss your lips as if it was the last time he’d ever get to do something so simple. 

“A-are you ok?” He ordered, holding your face in his hands, scanning every inch of your uncovered skin like you were the one outside caught in the crosshairs of the gates opening. 

You shook your head, reaching out to brush his cheek, “I…I knew what was going on as soon as I heard the news.” 

He turned to look behind him. The TV set in your living room was on but muted. There was live coverage in all areas in which the gates had opened. The red lines crossing boundaries and tearing neighborhoods apart were the only thing caught on cameras. 

Then his ears finally caught onto the tune playing over the radio you had situated on top of the kitchen table. It wasn’t too loud or too quiet. But just enough for you to mask the sounds of the hysteria transpiring around you. He had recognized the song. One of which was on a cassette that he had made specifically for you. 

Just because he was puzzled to see if he was right. One of his arms fell away from you, reaching over slightly to pop open the slot and there was the bright blue cassette. The one he had made for you, loaded with nothing but mushy love songs that reminded him of you and vice versa. It was surreal…you had known that this terrifying thing was back and yet you were here as calm as ever…or at least trying to be for his sake. 

And you had been humming before Steve had barged in. He finally picked up on that. 

“I knew you’d come to me,” Your voice took him away again, drawing his eyes to meet yours that were brimming with tears, “You told me that if anything like this were to happen again, that you’d come for me.” 

It was true. And it wasn’t like Steve was actively thinking about that promise he had made you a couple of months ago. He just did what felt right. And that was coming home to you. 

“I did.” Steve whispered, the realization dawning on him that this was all he ever wanted and all he ever wanted to know. 

It was you. Coming home to you. Being here with you. Through thick and thin. Through the calm and the storm. The ups and downs. 

He wanted it to be with you. 

“I never knew you would make such a talented songwriter, babe.” You commended Steve, relaxing your head on his shoulder while you recorded the lyrics that you two had just chirped. 

It was like you and Steve were talking to each other in the song. Recounting the purest and scariest moments in your relationship and somehow making it sound like the most tranquil lullaby known to the human existence. Sure, most babies would definitely prefer to listen to a voice sing them to sleep by talking about twinkling little stars or their papa buying them a mocking bird. 

But this was you and Steve’s song. The most meaningful lullaby that would hopefully put your future kids to sleep. 

“Me?” Steve accused, gesturing to himself as you laughed inwardly, shaking your head against him, “I’m pretty sure you could get a record deal for your beautiful voice and your song writing skills.” 

You blushed madly, seeking to hide the rose color on your cheeks by pressing your face into his shoulder, but that only made his heart strings pull tighter in his chest. He bounced you off jokingly, craving to see you in all your embarrassingly flattered glory. 

“I’m dead serious,” Steve declared, leaning down towards you to rest his forehead against yours as you closed your eyes, brushing your nose against his. 

“I have an idea for the next verse.” You added softly onto his lips, kissing him several times, before you finally built up the strength to pull away from your idea of paradise.  

He patted the small of your back, kissing you once more, almost making you want to forget about the whole song and take him to bed, but this was so pleasant and you wanted to finish this for the both of you. 

You took a deep breath, nodding your head as he peered up at you, silently asking if you were ready for him to start playing. And so he did. 

“On the way home, I wrote a poem. You say, “What a mind.” This happens all the time.” 

You all had your ways of dealing with the trauma that came after the gates had finally closed. Talking to Steve was always your preferred choice of dealing with all of it. He was like your personal form of therapy. Nothing was ever too heavy for him to take. He’d listen to you every night, detailing the fear that you felt when he went into that place for the last time to assist Eleven and his friends in defeating the monster. 

When he had come back through the portal, you were a mess waiting for him. He was covered in an ungodly amount of blood and yuck, but you had no care in the world. Instantly running into his arms and sobbing as you told him you loved him over and over and over again. 

For Steve, he could handle all the physical injuries he endured. It wasn’t anything new to him, considering the fact that he had experienced this before. At least for him, he had friends he could talk to and relate to when it came to this sort of thing.

But for him to watch you beat yourself up over what had happened….

That was more painful than any bite one of those nasty bats had inflicted on him. 

Eventually, Steve had suggested another way for you to cope, and that was through reading. It was mostly so that you could distract yourself from the horrible memories of watching Steve shout in pain as doctors and nurses tried to tend to his wounds followed by the excruciating weeks of recovery where you could do nothing but kiss and whisper sweet words to make him feel better. 

But surprisingly enough, the world of reading and the library became another safe space for you to travel to whenever you needed to remind yourself that the worst was over and you could finally relax. You had recommended the same to Robin and Nancy, who too were dealing with the lasting effects of the Upside Down in different ways. 

That’s how your little bookclub came to be and Steve was more than happy to support you through it every step of the way. He’d sit and listen to you talk for hours about the recent book you picked up just that morning and managed to get halfway through by the end of the day. He’d accompany you to the library, helping you search through the endless shelves of novels for something interesting when it was your turn to pick that month’s group read. 

Sometimes he’d even sit in during the sessions. Most times though, it was an excuse, just so he could listen to your read aloud, becoming so captivated by the way you were able to tell a story, then taken off his feet when you all would discuss and you would bring up some of the most minuscule yet crucial points with so much passion. 

This month was Nancy’s choice, and she had picked, “Love Poems & Sonnets of William Shakespeare.” It was beautifully complex, many words and phrases that were not usually used anymore, which allowed room for great conversations and different conceptualizations between the three of you girls. 

“Whatcha writing?” Steve glanced over at you sitting the passenger seat of his car where your eyes had been glued to the notebook on your lap, constantly erasing, then rewriting. 

You groaned, turning to him, “Attempting a poem…I feel inspired by what I read, but I just can’t seem to think of anything.” 

He hummed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he continued en route to his house, trying to think of a way to solve the small crisis you were facing on this Friday night. 

“Why don’t I give you a topic and let’s see what you come up with in two minutes? That way, you don’t overthink so hard.” 

Steve was great at recognizing both your verbal and nonverbal cues, especially when it came to you being flustered by stress. Most times, you’d stare at whatever was giving you a hard time for way too long. Or you’d get annoyed like you did just seconds ago, sighing thickly and muttering to yourself as you erased and rewrote. 

“Okay, that sounds fair.” You agreed, relaxing your dominant hand where your pencil was held. 

Steve smirked, turning to you as he saw you calm down. “Why don’t you write about the stars?” 

“How original of you, Mr. Harrington.” You joke, as he allowed his right hand to leave the wheel for only a few seconds, just to poke you in your side and hear that infectious giggle erupt from your chest. 

“C’mon, two minutes, pretty girl.” He spoke, checking the time on his dash as you had finally begun writing. 

If he could sit here and watch you with his undivided attention, he would. But you were precious cargo that needed to get home in one piece, and he was responsible for that. There would be many nights where he could watch you in your own world, reading or writing something that was probably totally incomprehensible to him, but it was you doing it, so he would find it in himself to understand. 

“Done!” You cheered happily, abandoning your notebook and pencil in your lap when you achieved you goal. 

Steve whistled impressively. “You had twenty-five seconds left.”

“Would you like to hear it?” You proposed, shifting in your seat so that you were close to him as you could be, despite the middle console separating the two of you. 

He nodded, tuning in to you clear your throat as he proceeded to drive on the nearly empty roads. 

“Why must I be so lucky to bask in the presence of one in a million? 

How can I be so sure this isn’t a trick from heaven? 

For your eyes are like saucers from another planet so distant. 

And your smile, shimmering so bright like the moon on Christmas. 

Is it true, art thou, the one I choose? 

Are you the prize I find sitting in my room? 

Is it you I see before I go to bed? 

Not just an allusion in my head?

When I look out the window into the night sky, 

I see it clearly now you are by my side. 

Not just a glimmer in the atmosphere, 

I know now that you are here. 

The love of my life, 

my one and only 

The only touch that dances upon me. 

Like the stars up above, I see him here. 

His name is Steve, and I love you, my dear.” 

Your voice rushed with serenity, but the words were even charming. He praised god that he made it into the driveway by the time you finished because he was so enchanted by the way you were able to write him. How you were able to make all these correlations between him, the sky, and the stars. You’d always had a way with your words, something he was still trying to get used to, especially when the euphonic remarks were aimed at him. 

“That…” His speech sailed off into the quiet night as you watched him click his belt undone so he could comfortably close the space between you two. 

The notebook and pencil were long forgotten now that you had him right where you wanted with his lips on yours. Moving ever so romantically, in no rush or haste to get to the good part, because having your skin on each other was always the good part. 

Finally he pulled away, “….That mind of yours is so brilliant.” 

“This happens all the time.” You moaned, a bit of whining in your statement as you protested that he pulled away just to compliment you, when you wanted nothing more than to keep his lips on yours permanently, if that was even possible. 

He smiled at your admission. “What? Me breaking the kiss or you being the next William Shakespeare.” 

“You dork!” You snorted, driving your head back, before you chased his lips from the passenger seat, to outside in the driveway, then through the front door, up the stairs, then into his bedroom where you and him ruled this private kingdom of love and lust. 

And here you were tonight, writing in that same notebook in which you had written that poem, dedicated to Steve Harrington himself. Though it had been carefully torn out of its binding, finding a new home between a piece of glass and frame where it hung on a wall. You had gifted it to him randomly one afternoon, and since then has been one of his most prized possessions among the other heartfelt gifts you had made for him. 

“I love you, you know that?” He begged, trailing his hands away from the keyboards and grabbing at you until you were a giggling wreck seated between his legs. 

You managed to contort yourself into his weird hold, just enough so that you could turn and bring your lips to meet with such a tenderness that neither one of you could ever begin to describe. It was weird to think that this was the man that you were going to spend the rest of your life with and you were so sure of it. Because no one came close or would ever come closer to how Steve makes you feel. 

For the longest time, you’d been searching for a love like this. Hoping that you’d find that person who would make you blush with every single look of desire. The person who you could run to without ever feeling like you’d be a nuance. He was more than what you could ever dream of or read in a classic romance novel. He was real life and all that you ever wanted was him and his love. 

“Of course I know that, silly—and I love you, too.” You countered never pulling away from him, but just talking against his lips and he understood every word that came out of your mouth no matter how suppressed it was. 

He beamed like an idiot against you, grazing your lips again before finally allowing you to turn back in front of the two of you where the keyboard laid. 

“Here,” you said, reaching for the notebook and passing it back to him with the pen, “This time I’ll play and you write.” 

“Let’s hear what you’ve got, baby.” He saluted, taking it from you, and giving your shoulders a supporting rub as you got familiar with the keys again. 

“Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors. And smooth-talking hucksters. Out glad-handing each other.” 

There was no course that prepared you for facing the hardships of not feeling like you were good enough for Steve’s love. It wasn’t all the time you felt like this, just a few times, but when it did, it was like a wave of sadness crashing into your soul and lingering there, leaving you to feel so heavy. 

You couldn’t pinpoint why you’d feel like this because, if anything, Steve always assured you when it came to your relationship with him. He only ever saw you and he always made that known. Telling you how beautiful you looked every day. Applauding your ability to do things with such grace that he never thought was possible. And he was the kind of boyfriend that would brag about you to all his friends and family because he adored you so much. He wanted to share how kind and generous you were with other people. 

It wasn’t about how Steve made you feel, but particularly about the way you feared that other people felt for him. 

Insecurity at its finest. 

Not many girls threw themselves at Steve, at least not anymore, especially when you and he were always together and he could never keep his eyes off of you, paying none of them any treatment. 

But they never went unnoticed by you.

Especially at parties which were never your thing, to be quite honest. But anything with Steve is fun in your eyes, so you go, usually dancing the night away with you in his arms as he drank his usual fruit punch and you nursed a spiked lemonade. Nights like this were generally all in good nature, but this night was completely the opposite of that. 

First it was Tiffany. 

She was different from you as she ran in the same circle that Steve did when he was in high school. Tiffany was the popular girl—plenty of friends, had an ever-growing social life, and was easy to talk to. 

Then it was Brandi. 

She knew Steve through mutual acquaintances, a guy named Tommy who you’d never met before. She actually talked to you more than she spoke to Steve, which should have been a good thing, but she seemed to have been picking apart your life. Every time she’d ask you about what you liked to do, she’d rebuttal with something much cooler, something that got Steve inquiring what she was talking about and saying, “neat,” every minute.

And last was Dana. 

She was a complete stranger to you and Steve, just a random girl who happened to be at the same party as the both of you. She was bolder than the other two girls, purposely making comments towards Steve’s appearance and how she would kill to have a man like him. And Steve didn’t even entertain the idea, immediately shutting her down and telling her that you were his girlfriend. 

But that didn’t stop you from excusing yourself, rushing through this unfamiliar house to find the nearest bathroom before the tears could spill out of your eyes for everyone to see. The last thing you needed was to be called a crybaby and ruin the fun that you and Steve were supposed to be having. When the bathroom finally came into sight, you scrambled into it before some drunk could, locking the door and bracing yourself against the sink. 

“Fuck,” you sniffled weakly, keeping your clouded eyes glued to the drain as the tears dripdropdrooped down your cheeks off your jaw and into the sink below you. 

It was ridiculous that you were here crying. Steve didn’t even flirt with any of them, and it’s not like he would have anyways. He was just conversing with them to be nice. That’s who Steve was. The nice guy. One of his charming qualities that made you fall for him. But also a quality that just made him so well liked by every other girl that looked his way. 

It made you feel…disgusted. 

“Baby,” You should’ve known Steve was going to follow you up here.

He always made it a thing to make sure you were never alone at these kinds of parties. He worried about you running into the wrong people or someone trying to hurt you while you were all alone. Which is why most times, you’d just tell him when you’d have to go to the restroom and he’d wait patiently outside the door, making sure no creeps would try anything when you were by yourself. 

You quickly reached for the tissues sitting on the counter, dabbing under your eyes, as the other flushed the toilet to make it seem like you were doing your business in here, “I’m fine, Steve…just had to pee!” 

The sniffle that he heard from outside the door confirmed his worry that you were, in fact, not ok. He could feel you tensing under his arm every time one of the girls would approach and conversate with him. He did his best to deter them, even just by completely ignoring them and talking to you, but he could tell it still made you uncomfortable. 

“Could you open up, babe?” He spoke, tapping again as you threw the tissue into the garbage and turned on the water to wash your hands. 

You shouted out a “yes,” and gave yourself one more convincing look in the mirror to try to make it look like you weren’t just crying your eyes out in this stranger’s bathroom. When you finally unlocked the door, he greeted you with a regretful smile that you could easily tell the difference from his normal ones. Steve let himself in, locking the door behind him and just letting it be the two of you in this small space. 

“Do you need to take a leak?” You proposed, attempting to avoid the conversation about what unfolded downstairs. 

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands with a still softness that made you want to cry all over again for the stupid reason of jealousy, “I came ‘cause I know you’re not ok.” 

“I don’t know what y-you’re talking about.” You reasoned plainly.

If Steve didn’t know you like the back of his hand and noticed the minor changes to your voice, maybe it would have been convincing. But the little crack in your sentence and the way you tried to move away from his touch, was already a clear sign that you were deceiving him and trying to cover it up. 

Steve took a deep breath, letting his hands fall so that he could grab at your hands that were resting on your sides. Intertwining them together, he squeezed.

“You can tell me what’s going on, baby. You don’t have to pretend with me.” 

It was so true. You never ever had to pretend to be this mighty strong independent woman when it came to showing and telling Steve how you felt. If anything, he welcomed this side of you, wanting you to know that it was ok to feel vulnerable in front of him. That he would never blame or judge you for feeling like a human would.

You shut your eyes tightly, the tears seeping through the slits before you forced them open and puffed out a deep, frustrating breath.

“I hate how they want you!” 

Steve was attentive, allowing you to unravel your fingers from his as you paced the small space in front of him.

“I hate that they fawn over you. I hate the way they look at you. I hate the way they try to impress you. I hate the way they talk to you. And I most certainly hate the way that they want you, the only way I have you.” 

You gave yourself a second to take a deep breath between your words and tears, even turning around to roughly snatch more tissues to catch your tears, while Steve’s concerned orbs never left you. 

“I hate the way they make me feel so…nonexistent. I hate that I feel jealous, and I know I shouldn’t be—because I know that you love me and only me, but I just hate it! I don’t like this. At all.” 

When you initiated the first contact, leading out to hug him, he knew it was his signal now. That it was his turn to talk and give you the comfort that you needed. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Steve murmured through your heavy breathing against his heart. His palms rubbed up and down your back, warming you up with his body heat, which was like a natural blanket and safety net that you wanted to fall into all the time in times like these. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way—“ 

You shook your head, stretching away to look up at him, only breaking his soul when he saw your tear covered face. “It’s not your fault…I’m just dumb and I hate myself for feeling like—“ 

“Hey. None of that.” He interrupted firmly, his fingers sweeping over both of your cheeks to wipe away the wetness of tears. 

“I should’ve told them to back off sooner. That’s my bad, baby. I’m sorry. So sorry, sweetheart.”

Giving him the best smile you could, you acknowledged him, closing your eyes, “Apology accepted.” 

Steve grinned, dragging your face towards him so he could peck your lips. 

“You’re the only one I want. Remember that. I don’t care about anything they have to say or the way they look at me because I have you, and when I look at you, I feel so fulfilled.” He professed, intensely peering into your eyes and he spoke so closely you could feel each breath he took with each word fanning your face like a cool gust on a summer afternoon. 

“My existence is worth something because of you. I only want you to want me. And I’m sure you only want me to want you.” 

You sniffled, letting out a short laugh while you nodded. “Of course.” 

“See. Now, please stop crying…I hate seeing you so sad.” He sulked, eyes turned down as he remained drying your tears until you finally stopped. 

You and Steve spent ten more minutes in that bathroom with him simply holding you close, swaying you back and forth as he whispered encouraging words into your ear. Jealously may not have looked good on you, let alone anyone, but vulnerability definitely did.

Refreshing is what it felt like when you could have moments like this with, Steve. Never feeling like you had to hide or conceal the impending thoughts in your head, even when sometimes it was self destructive. 

He liked it too.Someone who was honest with him and not afraid to be.

Previous relationships comprised him needing to guess and gauge how his partner was feeling, but with you it was comforting to know that you’d let him into your mind and worries. That he didn’t need to pry or feel like he was invading because you just allowed him to listen. Whether it was his fault or not, he wanted to know how you were feeling inside and out. You were his girl, and he would do anything to take away any ounce of pain or sadness you had. 

He was your home, and you were his. Even in this claustrophobic foreign bathroom, when you had each other in one another’s arms, you were instantly home. A safe space for all the emotions under the sun and over the dark clouds. 

“Shit! My writing is ass, babe.” Steve huffed from behind you, as you sat back into the now, entirely forgetting about the three other girls who could never be you or ever take your place right here, right now. 

You laughed, pushing your head back to stare at him upside down, “C’mon, we’re almost done with the song!” 

“If you’d stop being so cute, we’d be finished with it long ago.” He scowled with no real ill will, scrunching your cheeks together as you continued to laugh until he let you go, guiding you right side up. 

“You get the last verse in the bridge, hot stuff.” You reached back to pinch his thigh gingerly, as he mumbled, thinking before it came to him. A bit of inspiration taken from the last lines you had sung. 

“And the voices that implore, “You should be doing more.” To you, I can admit that I’m just too soft for all of it.”

Steve never had a great relationship with either of his parents, but especially his dad. He had even described him as a “grade-A-asshole” the first time you had asked him if it was ok for you to finally meet him. And so when Steve finally introduced you to his parents, it was definitely not what you were expecting.

His mom was really sweet, asking you a lot about your life and parents while his dad stayed quiet for most of the dinner, only giving his input when it consisted of asking you about college and future plans. That seemed to matter a lot to his dad, so when you mentioned taking a gap year and were met with a condescending laugh of incredulity, you had fully expected Steve’s mom to shut that behavior down.

But she sat there and observed, allowing her husband to treat you with such disrespect until Steve had enough, getting into a full fledge screaming match with his father while you attempted to diffuse the situation from intensifying. 

Things with his dad never got any better and his relationship with his mother only seemed to decline as you and Steve’s relationship furthered. The days in which you two would spend at his house were mainly when his parents were out of town on business trips. Other than that, to avoid conflict, he would stay with you at your parents’ house when his were back. 

“Why’re you so nervous, Stevie?” You leaned over the middle console inside his BMW, tearing your boyfriend out of his thoughts as the two of you sat in the driveway of his parents’ home. 

He rubbed his temples, pronounced stress already making itself apparent on Steve’s face and body, “I just wished I didn’t have to say anything,” He groaned, sensing an impending headache arriving. 

For the past week and a half, you and Steve had been moving his things out of his bedroom and storing it in your parents’ garage for the time being. Since you and him had been together awhile now, the two of you figured it was the right time to find a place of your own, a few miles outside of Hawkins and just a town down in Roane County. Of course, with Steve’s parents barely in the picture, they failed to notice Steve’s missing things and his lengthy absence from their home. 

You smiled tightly, reaching out to rest a comforting palm over his shoulders and rubbing fondly, “I know, but it’s better that they find out through us than just finally realize you moved out without saying anything.” 

He knew you had a point. Getting up and leaving was not something that he excepted to come to terms with so easily, but when doing it with you, he knew he’d follow you to the ends of the Earth if it meant waking up and going to bed beside you. But he also knew his father and the way he’d snowball this situation and overreact over his son, simply growing up and starting his own life with his girlfriend.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just get this over with.” He took a deep breath, flipping his sun visor back up before turning his head and kissing your hand that still rested between his t-shirt and shoulder. 

And of course, Steve was right because the second he had blurted out that he was moving out, mid dinner, his father went absolutely ballistic. Throwing his napkin down on the food and standing up from his chair as he began shouting at Steve. 

You sat there patiently, lying your hand on Steve’s knee under the table where it bounced up and down. And you could see his fists tightly clenched in his lap, wanting to do nothing more than to knock his old man out cold. 

“I mean, what are you thinking, Steven!? Do you even realize the responsibility that comes with moving out?!” 

His father’s voice bellowed through the dinning room, hell it could even be heard from outside the front door if you were guessing. For the most part Steve had mastered the art of letting the things his dad say go in one ear then out the other just so he could avoid confrontation and fights, but it was hard to pretend like his dad was a prime example or someone he could look up to when he wasn’t even present for anything good that came Steve’s way. 

“What does it matter to you? Hell, you’re barely even home! I think I’ve spent more time here alone, taking care of myself than you guys have in the past five years.” 

The shock the spread across his fathers face was amusing, and you wanted so badly to laugh out loud, and tell him off about how much of a horrible dad he had been to Steve, but your boyfriend always made it clear to you that his issue with his dad was between him and his dad only. It’s not that he didn’t want you to defend him, hell you defended him all the time when his dad wasn’t around, never missing a beat to express to Steve how much you wished his dad could just go and fuck himself.

But the words that his father spat were always venomous and filled with such hostility that he would never want directed towards you. It was better if he just took all the hits than to let you be a victim to one of his dad’s tirades. 

“You,” His old man sharply pointed a finger at Steve and rested the other on his hip, “Apologize to me right now! You’d be nothing without me, young man!” 

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes, mouth about to move to say his empty apology just so his dad could shut the hell up and stop making a big deal out of this, but you couldn’t possibly stay silent anymore. It was exhausting to see how small his father made him feel. It was as if Steve had just totally became a different person when his father was around, never really being able to express who he was or share any part of his life without being criticized. 

“That’s not true.” You swallowed, glaring up at his dad, whose eyes enlarged, adverting his scrutiny to you. 

Steve’s eyes nearly buldged out of his skull when your voice spoke, turning to you with a rigid look on his face that silently told you to stop, but you shook your head, giving his knee one last squeeze before you stood up, carrying your own. 

“Steve is hardworking. He’s intelligent. He’s compassionate. Everything that you lack, Steve has, and that’s because Steve is a good person—“ 

“A good person that didn’t get accepted into any of his picks for college! Not even his backup—“ 

Anger flooded your nerves. You loathed when his father talked so poorly about his own son, “What does it matter to you? You got accepted into an ivy league and still turned out to be the most obnoxious, overbearing, unpleasant person and, most of all, a sad excuse of a father.” 

His dad did nothing but look between his wife, Steve, and you with maddening eyes and steam metaphorically coming out of his head. 

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” 

Your shoulders shook and heart thumped against your chest as Steve already nodded his head, rising up firmly beside you. Somehow finding it within himself to defend his own name and especially yours. Steve never wanted to control you. He always admired that you were so headstrong and resilient. Today was no different and he would not let his dad try to belittle you or himself anymore. 

“Yeah, I actually am.” Steve clutched your hand, holding them together as he lifted them up and shook it between the space. 

“She’s right. I am a goddamn good person and I’ve let you walk all over me throughout my entire childhood…and to be quite honest with you, dad, neither you nor mom had ever been good parents to me.” 

His mom gasped, her only input in the conversation as at, “Steven!” 

Steve turned to his mother, sighing exasperatedly, “I am tired of feeling like a ghost in this family…someone you only talk to when it’s convenient to, or when you want me to be your punching bag.” 

His father paid no mind to the previous revelation, just wanting to make the situation about himself in an attempt to feed his ego.

“And what do you plan to do, huh? You don’t have a degree, let alone a good paying job. You have no aspirations. No ambitions. And this girlfriend of yours sure as hell isn’t any help when she should be encouraging you to do more with your life than sell movies to dirtbags.” 

This is exactly what Steve wanted to dodge, you now becoming the punching bag that his father was now hitting with low blows. All he saw was red, releasing your intertwined hands, and making his way around the dining table to push his father’s chest with his hands full of fury. 

“Steve!” you exclaimed, tracking right behind him, attempting to pull him back from getting hurt. 

But your boyfriend was stronger, perhaps because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins, allowing him another push that almost sent his dad tumbling over if it weren’t for his mom, catching him and standing him upright.

“Don’t you ever talk to her like that! She’s done everything and given me the love you two never did.” 

Maybe it was because Steve had buried all this family trauma in the back of his head, and totally forgot about it when he started seeing you, but he would be damned if he would leave this household without telling his parents everything they had made him feel throughout his entire life.

First being the only child, and having no one to talk to when he was a kid, followed by trying to please his parents by allowing them to live vicariously through him, then being painted as the bad guy for finally finding his own purpose in life was too much for him to handle. 

“Steve, please.” You begged, pressing yourself between the two men, and bumping Steve back so he could step away from his father. 

“You know nothing about me!” He roared at his parents, allowing you to make him take a few steps back to find his cool, but never letting the anger die in his voice. 

If your heart was beating a hundred miles over the limit, Steve’s was over a million and his breathing was heavy with your palms finding their way on his chest. The second he glanced down at you and met your eyes, he was grounded. Back to reality. A place he knew he could say anything that was on his chest and get all the baggage off his desk. 

He took a deep breath, reflecting your own breathing before finally looking back at his parents, who stayed mute, watching on to see what their son’s next move was going to be.

And he spoke.  

“She and I got a lease for an apartment down in Roane. I got promoted to manager at Family Video months ago and I make way more than minimum wage. I applied for a second job at a middle school and got hired to help with their after-school program for kids. I applied to a community college and got accept, I’m planning to get my degree in education.” 

The tears gushed liberally down Steve’s cheek, informing his parents all about this life they had no clue about. How successful Steve actually was outside of their ideals that he was doing nothing except selling VHS tapes and riding around town with his girlfriend. 

“Her family actually cares about me. Her dad gives me advice when I ask, not unsolicited like you, dad. Her mom actually let’s me talk to her about anything and doesn’t make me feel less than because I have feelings. And she…” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes glinting below as he looked at you with such intensity and delicateness that truly revealed how much he felt for you. 

“She’s everything to me. Caring. Understanding. Loyal. Funny. Encouraging. She makes me feel like I’m enough, even when I know I’m rock-bottom shit because of the damage you two caused—but at the end of the day, she’s home.” 

By now, you had been crying, finding your face tucked in his chest as your warm tears soaked through his polo and he could feel the dampness against his skin. He hated when you cried and he knew that you and him were about to make your exit.

Steve was always tender when it came to touches, and that never changed, not even when you were a crying mess in front of his parents. And so with that, he wrapped his arms around you heartily, shuffling the two of you to the front door, pausing only briefly to give his parents one last piece of his mind. 

“This is going to be the last time you see either of us—maybe one day when you finally apologize, we can work things out, but right now, I don’t need either of you. Only her.”

With that, he led you two out of his parents’ home, immediately embracing you tighter, crying within each other’s arm right out in the open. The light breeze wandered over your skins, as he just held you. The two of you whispering to one another constants “I love yous,” not caring that any of the neighbors could be watching the scene from their windows. 

“I’m sorry…” 

You shook your head, pink lips trembling as you let out a “nuh uh,” brushing your fingertips under his eyes to wipe the tears away from his beautifully freckled face, “No…I’m sorry, so sorry you had to put up with that all your life.” 

“Not anymore,” His cheeks rose against your palms when he put on a faint smile on his face, pushing his head down to kiss your lips sweetly. 

“Not ever.” You affirmed kissing him again, before you and Steve drove off into the night, never looking back at what could have been and simply focusing on the fact that it now was you and him against the world. 

And so here the two of you sat in the bedroom you now called your own. The small apartment was just an hour away from your hometown, now becoming a sanctuary of peace and home to new memories that you and Steve had created together, just like this song.

The place was decorated with photos of the both of you and the little trinkets like the pebble and framed polaroid that found its new place on the coffee table in the living room.

Or that poem you had written him, now placed on his desk at work, every morning being greeted by your way of words, even though before he left the apartment, you’d always tell him, “Have a good day at work, I love you.”

And of course, the mixtape of love songs, now finding its constant spot in and out of the radio that sat in the corner of the kitchen island, where you and Steve would chat and end up out of your seats by the end of the night where you’d dance in each other’s arms. 

All that you two ever wanted was nothing but this.

The sweetness and bliss that came with loving him. Not for notoriety or calling dibs on the guy you had a crush on for years before either of you made a move. Just this, forever and always, knowing that you were home for him, and he was home for you. That there was no shame in feeling, but just a safe space for being honest and open about everything.

This wasn’t only a new beginning, but just the start of something so fresh and freeing. Because if there was one thing that the two of you knew, it was that they were going to be great parents and this would be the song that would rock their baby to sleep. 

This was sweet nothing. 

A/N: Okay, so I was able to finish this in literally one day…I think that’s quite impressive for someone like me who literally has a million thoughts running through her mind on a daily basis. Sweet Nothing, which I believe is one of the most underrated tracks on Midnights, really gives me Steve Harrington vibes and I hope I was able to do his character justice and provide some tooth rotting fluff to ring in the new year. Again, all credits to Taylor Swift for writing this amazingly vulnerable song about love that I wish to find one day…but I wrote the poem in the fic myself (don’t come at me for the basic rhymes lol). Reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated!!!! Thanks for reading!!!

[princess-glassred]

Henry And Eddie Body Swap: Chapter one

The very first thing Eddie notices when he wakes up in the impermeable stench of B.O., sweat, and 30 year old juicy fruit gum. The second thing he notices is that he's in the back seat of a car he's never seen before, one he hadn't even seen when he walked into the Derry Townhouse and peaked at the parking lot.

He yawned, sounding distinctly hoarse, and groggily rubbed his eyes with a balled up fist.

Rays of that classic beautiful summer sun shot through the window above Eddie's head, the same warm sun he'd biked through woods and backroads with Bill and Richie when they were much younger men.

"Shit" Eddie thought "Where the are they anyways? Where the hell am I?" he looked around the beat up car, but it seemed to have no identifying information. The most he could glean from it was that, whoever drove this car had horrible taste in vehicles.

It looked like the kind of cheap 1980's car some gangster would snort lines of coke in, definetly not the kind of car Eddie would ever be caught dead in.

He leaned up and stretched, his back aching something fierce, even worse than it usually did with him being 40 and all.

He blinked a few times, finally snapping out of his sleepy daze, but unfortunately for Eddie, waking up more didn't answer any of his questions.

In a desperate need for something to focus on, his eyes eventually drifted down to his legs which were covered by a large greenish blue hoodie as if it were a blanket.

"Huh, some one must have put it on me when I passed out." he thought for a moment and smiled "Probably Bev." He laughed, then frowned at the unknown stains on the front of it "Couldn't she have gotten something a little cleaner though?".

He attempted to raise the hoodie up and off his legs but shrieked when he realized there was absolutely nothing underneath.

Well not nothing, he was wearing underwear, tidy whiteys to be exact, but he was still pantsless in the back of some strangers car, which was a predicament he hadn't been in since college (you'd NEVER hear that from him though).

Eddie shook his head as his cheeks flushed red with embarassment, then clumsily felt around for the car door handle.

He crawled out awkwardly like he was either drunk or had very limited coordination skills, nearly stumbling and falling down on his knees onto an unfortunately placed patch of mud.

He scanned his surroundings but found nothing familiar, he appeared to be off a backroad somewhere, far away from town and no doubt far away from the townhouse. He sniffed the air again, but the stench of old gum and sweat didn't disappear now that he was out of the car, so that definetly wasn't the problem.

He looked around a little more until his eyes locked onto the cars cracked drivers side view mirror.

There he was again, that Bowers asshole, no doubt back for more after his first failed attempt on Eddie's life.

He shrieked once again and fell backwards, actually landing in the mud patch this time, much to his disgust and dismay.

Suddenly, Bowers fell backwards too, and it was then Eddie realized how bizzarely deep his voice sounded now.

He looked around for Henry but still saw nothing, the only time he saw Henry was when he picked himself back up and Henry's reflection was once more inside the sideview mirror.

Eddie panted, "Get the hell away from-" a hand clapped itself over Eddie's mouth with a sudden gasp.

His voice wasn't just deep, his voice was familiar, disturbingly familiar.

So familiar it belonged to some one else, and it was no coincidence that Henry's reflection also clapped his hand over his mouth in shock.

In Eddie's mind this could mean only one thing, and Eddie really fucking hoped that he was wrong.

He raised his hand, and Henry followed perfectly, he stuck his tongue out and Henry did the same, heck, he even flipped himself off, and guess what? Henry still did it.

This wasn't Henry's reflection, this was EDDIE'S reflection, but it was HENRY'S face.

But he couldn't be Henry. He just couldn't. That wasn't possible. That was crazy. It couldn't be. Could it? There was only one way to be certain.

He took a deep breath and felt around the back of his head, fingers tracing down to the tips of his hair, which was much longer, thicker, and dirtier than before.

He grabbed the end of it, feeling clumps of tangles in the gross unkempt rat nest attached to his head.

Eddie let out a sudden jagged and shakey breath, as the horrible reality of the situation settled in.

"Oh my god..." Eddie mumbled, only growing more uneasy at the sound of his brand new voice "I have a mullet.".

Suddenly Eddie screamed like he'd just been knifed in the back and skittered to his feet, utterly terrified.

His eyes kept darting between the car side mirror, the ground and the wind sheilds, but every where he looked just drove him into more of a panic.

"This- this can't be happening!" Eddie shouted, but his distinct new voice solidified his fate, the very same voice that had called Eddie and many others slurs and condescending names all through out his childhood.

That was the fucking voice that was coming out of his mouth now, and Eddie still couldn't wrap his head around it.

He began to pant and heave like he was on the brink of an anxiety attack, patting at his clothing for his inhaler as if he expected it to be in Henry's clothes.

When he couldn't find an inhaler to calm his nerves he did the only thing he could think to do with his hands, start mindlessly pulling at his hair.

It wasn't like he could make it any worse, so why not start tearing out clumps? He'd look as horrible and ridiculous as he felt.

"Okay! Okay! Just calm down Eddie! Don't get too frazzled! The number one thing that always causes things to get worse is when they panic so just keep calm! You're okay! You're just- You're dreaming- no! hallucinating! You're hallucinating! Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm hallucinating sights and smells and sounds and- oh god- What the hell is happening?!" Eddie buried his face in his hands and paced around the back road, in the midst of the worst panic attack of his life, utterly terrified and still pantsless.

He walked back over to the car and quickly found a pair of sweat pants Henry had been wearing the night before on the floor then put them on, a horribly difficult task for some one panicked out of their mind and in a body they weren't too familiar with.

As he put them back on he rambled under his breath various things that were supposed to be reassuring but just made Eddie more painfully aware of how nuts he sounded.

"It's the fucking clown, it's messing with me." He heaved "Yeah that's it, nothing to worry about, it's just a delusion brought on by a psycho killer clown with cosmic powers- that's way more reassuring and much more plausible-".

At this point Eddie was getting pretty sick of himself, but his panicked rambles just kept spewing out of him like a bunch of word vomit, in fact, he was pretty amazed he hadn't vomited already given the circumstance.

Henry's body was so different from his, his thighs were thicker, his arms were bulkier, his stomache had a bit more flab, and over all his body was just not very well taken care of, as opposed to Eddie who'd been paranoid about a variety of illnesses and health risks all his life and tried to take care of himself the best he could.

Henry likely did not have such an oppertunity, living in an asylum for the past twenty seven years and all, hopped up on meds that likely caused his weight to fluctuate like crazy.

It was then, in that moment, a disgusting revelation hit Eddie like a truck, and he realized that that awful smell had been coming from his new body all along, and this realization was enough to make Eddie gag on the spot.

"Jesus fucking christ Henry, don't they let you bathe in Juniper Hills? What the fuck." He complained, disgusted and totally embarrassed.

He grabbed the hoodie that was on his lap when he woke up and put it on, figuring he'd REALLY prefer to show as little of his body as possible right now, then got out of the car once again.

"Okay, okay- this is- absolutely fucking nuts- but as long as I keep cool i'll be fine... right?" He mumbled to himself, the unease in his chest finally dissipating a little.

He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked for what seemed like forever into town, already forgetting the exact directions to the Derry townhouse, despite living in this stupid shithole town for years and even running past that building on multiple occaisions as the asshole owner of the body he was in chased him down with a knife.

He was just kinda winging it, hoping he might find a way to get past the overwhelming embarrassment he was feeling at the moment and work up the nerve to ask the first person he saw for directions.

Unfortunately for Eddie, the first people he saw didn't look particularly helpful, and in fact looked like the kinda people Henry might have hung out with had he been born in the 2000's instead of '74.

They were a couple teenage junkies, wearing shitty band t-shirts with even shittier bands on them that Eddie was a little too old to know about and passing joints around.

Feeling a little bit intimidated by the teens raw "I don't give a fuck" attitude, he nervously swallowed but pressed on.

"Uhm- Excuse me." Said Eddie, a little tense, drawing the annoyed attentions of the teenage smokers.

"The hell do you want?" Asked the leader, a very rude lookin teenage girl with blue hair, a beanie, and about 20 piercings on her face and body.

Eddie awkwardly put his hands together and smiled, painfully aware of how terrible he was at talking to children, heck, even as a kid he could hardly talk to other kids, that's probably why he and Myra never had some of their own, even though Myra wanted one really freakin bad.

"Hey uh- sorry to bother you're... important business- but can I ask you all question? It'll just take a second." He spat out, trying and failing to sound casual.

The girl groaned as her friends rolled their eyes "No you geezer, you can't bum a smoke.".

Her friends mumbled and groaned in agreement, embarrassing and offending him a tiny bit.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief "Believe me, that's not my thing. I'm just... having an issue and I need some uhm-... input?".

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked at her friends and shrugged "Fine old man, ask away.".

Eddie cringed a bit at being referred to as "old man" but continued with his question anyways "Do you-" he paused, he wanted to ask if they knew how to get to the Derry Townhouse but something else was troubling him, although he had nearly accepted this horrible scenario surprisingly quickly, a part of him still wasn't so sure he wasn't experiencing some weird ass break down or mental episode.

So instead of asking for directions, Eddie asked "Do i look... sensible?", baffling the teens that stood before him.

"What?" Asked the leader, admittedly caught off gaurd and highly confused by the question.

Eddie nervously laughed "You know, like, average height, clean hair cut, looks like a risk analyst because he is one? Sensible.".

The teen girl looked at him incredulously and scoffed "You're such a liar, you're high as fuck right now." she laughed.

Eddie waved his hands around and shook his head "No no no- i'm not on drugs, i've never even smoked before. Trust me.".

One of the girls friends, an emo lookin boy sacrastically leaning against a dumpster, decided to finally chime in with his own opinion.

"Dude, you look like a washed up 80's rockstar that had to quit his band cause of his meth addiction." He joked, looking Eddie up and down with the most judgey ass expression he'd ever seen.

Another one of the girls friends also decided to speak up, and she was not any nicer in her assesment of Eddie and the new body he'd been forced into.

"Seriously man, who the fuck still wears a mullet? It's 2016, cut that shit off. You look like a pervert." she insulted, making Eddie exhale out his nose.

"I know right! Like how tacky can you be!?" Eddie grinned, then stopped when he realized how that comment didn't make any sense now that he was the one with the crappy hair do.

He forced out an awkward laugh "I mean... to my barber.... because this is my hair, not some one else's, and I could totally cut it off anytime I wanted to." he smiled.

The teens exchanged weirded out glances for a second then looked back at Eddie as if they were all thinking the same thing.

"Dude, you are so smacked." The goth boy said, looking especially annoyed.

Eddie nervously laughed again, tensing his shoulders and awkwardly twitching his fingers "Yeah, guess I am! well, I best be on my way now! Just one more thing though, you kids wouldn't happen to have directions to the derry townhouse would you?".

The teens remained perfectly quiet at that, their bored and annoyed expressions already giving Eddie the answer to his question before he even asked.

He chuckled, cringing a bit "No I don't suppose you would- guess i'll just be going then." He turned around and started walking away dejectedly, murmurs of the pot smoking teens asking "what the fuck was that guys problem" and "who was he?" fading behind him the farther he got from them.

He plopped down on a random bench and leaned over, resting his hands on his knees.

His heart was pounding like it wanted to make a grand escape, and Eddie felt the horrible urge to jump out of his skin, or rather, Henry's.

He hung his head low and took deep breaths, closing his eyes to try and calm himself.

This whole situation still felt unreal, like some cliche plot you'd see on a Tv show that ran for too many seasons, but evidently it was real and there was no way to deny it.

He looked down at his own hands front to back, whimpering at the sight of the callouses Henry had from years of doing strenous chores for his dad and getting into all kinds of trouble.

Just then, Eddie noticed something strange, somehow even stranger than the fact he was stuck as Henry Bowers right now.

There was a scar on Henry's right hand, exactly like the one on Eddie's right hand from when they had all defeated the clown the first time around and made their blood oath to come back.

So either that meant A. Henry got the exact same scar on his hand at some point or B. Eddie's body scars somehow transferred to Henry.

He felt around "his" face and after getting past Henry's stupid stubble, noticed a cut on his face, exactly where Henry had stabbed him in the cheek the night before.

He glanced around, checking to see if anyone might see what he was about to do, but thankfully almost nobody was out on the street this early, and anyone who normally would be was at work.

He took a deep yet very uneasy breath "God, this is gonna be so weird, but I gotta check-" he winced.

With shakey and already kinda grossed out hands, he rolled up the shirt he had woken up in over Henry's flabby beer belly to search for another scar to prove his theory.

Low and behold, there it was, the large scar he had gotten when he was fifteen and had to get his appendix removed cause it was infected.

"Great, well I'm just gonna give up and assume nothing today is gonna make sense." he complained, rolling his shirt back down as crowds of people began to come out of shops and head downtown.

He stood up with a grunt and groaned at the predicament he found himself in, with out much else to do at this point Eddie just started walking in a random direction in hopes he might find the town house on his own.

The people around him side stepped and avoided him like he had the plauge, and a few even gave him weirded out and concerned looks that wounded what small shreds of his ego he had left.

Maybe they thought Eddie wasn't paying attention to his surroundings so they could judge him as much as they wanted with out him noticing, but Eddie did notice, and it hurt him quite a bit.

He'd never been looked at with such disgust before, and it made Eddie just wanna turn around and yell out "Hey man! I didn't choose this body! Don't blame me!" but of course, that'd be crazy and wouldn't really do him any favors.

He walked on, pulling his hood up and stuffing his hands into the pockets with a grumble, "This is probably the most embarrassing moment of my life." Eddie thought "The only good part about this is nobody knows it's me." but that second thought didn't sit quite well with Eddie, and suddenly he stopped walking, a surge of panic striking him like lightning.

"Wait- that's not a good thing at all, that makes this so much worse. How the hell is anyone supposed to recognize me when I look like this, fuck, what the fuck is bill gonna think? Or Richie? God, if Richie finds out about this i'll never live it down. If he believes me at all, they'll probably just think i'm-" Eddie looked down at himself and begin to hyperventilate again.

He wasn't sure what was more terrifying, the idea of anyone seeing him like this and knowing who he was, or nobody knowing who he was at all, both sounded absolutely mortifying though.

In his panic Eddie began to stumble around till his back was against the Derry electronics shop window.

He heaved, feeling his own throat start to choke him with every new Bowers sounding grunt and sigh, like a knife twisting deeper into your chest.

He raised his hands to his ears and pressed hard on them, wanting so desperately to be anywhere but here.

Luckily, a kind woman pushing her infant down the street in stroller stopped to take notice of the panicing fourty year old and tried to help.

"Sir, are you alright?" She asked, sympathetically putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie forced out a panicked laugh, but her touch did seem to sooth him a little.

"I'm- okay- i'm okay- I just need-" he turned his head to look at her and suddenly she screamed, covering her face with her hands and staggering back a little, much like Eddie had done a moment ago.

He blinked in confusion, a little stunned by her horrified reaction.

I mean yeah, Henry wasn't the most attrative guy, but it wasn't like he was a mirror cracker or anything, so this was a bit of an over reaction.

Then, more people began to stop and react in similar ways, their faces turning from run of the mill judgemental looks into terrified and downright fearful stares.

He turned his head in every direction to see what had happened to make everyone so scared all of a sudden, but there was no mistake to be made, everyone was looking at him and he just couldn't fathom why.

That was until Eddie looked behind him and got a glance at the shop windows display tvs, which all were blasting the exact same news coverage all at once.

Footage of men walking through a large hospital of some kind and carrying two bodies out on a stretcher played on loop, with large text scrolling on the bottom declaring "Deranged lunatic escapes mental hospital and kills two men, suspect still at large.".

Then, the screens flashed blinding white as a piece of paper with a police sketch was thrown up on the screen, a police sketch that was so realistic Eddie might as well have been looking in another mirror.

The scrolling text at the bottom turned into a large flashing warning, declaring that if any were to come in contact with this man you should do your best to run, hide, and contact the police immediately.

Eddie spun right around to look at the crowd again, who were now all backing slowly away from him in horror, even the woman who had put a kind hand on his shoulder was backing away with her baby like Eddie might run up and stab her right now.

He swallowed, the dread from before the woman asked if he was okay swinging back with a fiery vengance.

"Uhm- uh- uhhh-" Eddie stammered like he was attempting to make enough noises they might string together into a semi coherent sentence to get him out of this mess.

It didn't matter what he said right now though, nothing could undo the fucked up situation Henry had forced Eddie into, he'd honestly be better off just crying in a ball on the floor at this point.

Now the crowd was parting, parting to make way for some one specific to come and deal with their little "problem".

A police officer with aviator sunglasses and a patchy beard stepped forward, looking so reminiscent of Henrys dad Eddie might have laughed at the irony had he not been in such a terrifying situation.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" said the officer, putting his thumbs in his pockets and smacking his lips as he chewed on what was either dip or gum.

"Another nut job thinkin he can escape Maine justice?" He continued, and at this point Eddie was wishing he could spontaneously go blind and deaf so he didn't have to see or look at his new reality anymore.

The cop squinted and reached for his gun, seeming almost excited at the prospect he might get to shoot a maniac today, "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way son." he grinned.

"I- uh- uhm-" Eddie stammered some more, and then, upon the realization he had basically no other option left, booked it the hell out of there.

He ran faster than he had ever ran in his life in that moment, the adrenaline and his pure fight or flight instinct made his urge to get out so strong it overpowered Henry's weak ass legs and Eddie's lack of atheletic expertise.

The crowd scrambled away from him as he ran, partly because they were afraid he was running towards THEM and partly because the cop started firing off shots willy nilly at Eddie's escape.

Everyone was in hysterics, but for Eddie that actually was quite helpful, as the cop and any other cop could hardly find him amongst the hoarde of terrified townspeople, especially not with him zig zagging through couples and families like there was no tomorrow.

He just kept on running and running, never once looking back to check on who was behind him or how far away he'd gotten, he just bolted until the adrenaline finally stopped pumping and his legs gave out.

He collapsed down on some gravel with a loud crunch and a wheeze, thankfully far away from any people who could stop and scream at him some more.

Eddie was lost now, in more ways than one, and it was all so awful he considered just laying there all day until he died of dehydration.

At least now that he was looking at the cold blue sky he could get his brain in order, with no cops shooting at him or passerbys to judge.

He could just think, and let his mind roll on with the clouds, although he still had no actual ideas on what to do about this.

He thought for a little, drawing blanks until his mind landed back on thoughts of his friends and what they could possibly be doing now.

And that's when Eddie realized something even worse than the fact he looked like Henry and nobody could recognize him, something much more serious and a hell of a lot more dangerous.

"If i'm in Henry's body and nobody knows it's me then- that means Henry-" Eddie stopped, not wanting to finish his own awful thought.

"Oh god-" Eddie wheezed out, "No- don't be ridiculous- that's impossible. That's not happening." he muttered to himself.

"Besides, even if it was, they'd know it wasn't me. They'd know he was acting different. Bill would know, Richie would definetly know. Right?" but no matter how much he tried to reassure himself, he couldn't believe it.

"Maybe- maybe we'll get lucky and the clown will kill him thinking it's me." he joked, but it wasn't really a joke, it was a sincere hope, because the only thing worse than never getting his body back, would be never getting his body back because Henry's fuckin living in it.

[everybodyisabookofblood]

Hook (Me) Up

Pairings: Eddie x Reader

Summary: Thanks to a bad phone line connection, Eddie wrongly assumes the reason his best friend invited him over.

Warnings: Fem! reader (no physical descriptions other than 1 instance of the word girl), soft, insecure Eddie, no use of Y/N, 100% SFW (cannot write sex/romance to save my life)

AN: This was actually meant to be another silly little story, but it got away from me.

--oo--

You open your front door, smiling at the sight of your best friend on the opposite side.

“Hey, Eds,” you greet. “I didn’t expect you to get here so fast.”

He grins and begins stretching out a hand to lean against your doorframe. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting, sweet–“ His suave greeting is cut off with a small yelp when his hand gets a little too close to the edge and ends up slipping.

You dart quickly to the side as Eddie stumbles across the threshold, knees close to buckling before he manages to catch himself. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your giggles as he straightens with an embarrassed scowl in your direction.

“Smooth move Eddie the Unbalanced.”

He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “You’re hilarious.”

You frown slightly as he continues playing with his hair, wondering why he looks so on edge. “Hey, you okay?” you ask, lightly touching his shoulder. “We don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to.”

“No!” He practically shouts the word, wincing in embarrassment when you flinch. He clears his throat and continues in a normal tone. “I mean, no, we can do this.”

You hesitate for a second, eyes scanning his face briefly before nodding. “Alright. Let’s go up to my bedroom.”

He huffs out a breath. “Wow.. yeah, okay. Jump right into it, I guess.”

Your brows furrow at his response, but you push your confusion to the side as he follows you up the stairs.

“Just need to grab something first,” you say as you enter your bedroom and head toward your bedside table. You open the drawer and begin digging through the contents, jokingly calling out, “I hope you have what I’m looking for!”

“Hell yeah, I do, sweetheart.”

You smile fondly at the excitement in his voice, glad that whatever nervous energy he was feeling downstairs had seemingly dissipated, and he was back to the over-enthusiastic personality you loved. You turn around, the 20-dollar bill you were looking for in your hand, to find Eddie naked from the waist up and fumbling eagerly with his belt.

“Eddie… what the hell are you doing?”

His hands freeze around his handcuff-shaped buckle as he slowly looks up. “Uh, you asked me to come over to hook up?”

Silently you cursed your mother and her refusal to have the phone line – and its tendency to randomly cut off what you (wrongly) assumed was only other people’s side of the conversation– fixed. “Eds,” you explained slowly. “I asked you to come over to hook me up.” You gesture at him with the crumpled twenty still in your hand. “You know, the usual?”

His hands fall to his side as redness colors his cheeks and spreads down his neck. “Oh… right.” He laughs bitterly. “Of course, because you wouldn’t….”

“Eddie,” you cut him off gently, sliding the money into your back pocket and taking a tentative step towards him. “Were you… I mean, did you really want it to be the other thing?”

He shakes his head, bending down to pick up his discarded Hellfire shirt. “It doesn’t matter,” he mutters as he moves to put it pack on.

You stop the movement, wrapping your fingers around the fabric and feeling the press of his rings underneath it. “It matters, Eddie. Did you want it to be?” you repeat.

“Guess I really showed my hand, huh?” He meets your probing gaze, the half-hearted smirk on his face belied by the sheen of tears that turned his eyes into liquid chocolate. “I wanted whatever you would give me,” he finished softly.

Your breath caught, your own eyes growing watery. “Eddie…”

He looked away. “I should probably go.”

“No.”

His eyes snapped back to you, brows furrowed. “No?”

You inhaled, your thoughts racing. Your best friend was willing to risk your entire friendship for what he thought he’d mistakenly heard. Now it was your turn to do the same… but you had to know if it was more than that. More than just the thought of a potential hookup.

“What do you want me to give you?”

He scoffed, trying to tug his hands away. “I think that’s pretty clear.”

You held on tighter. “Were you just looking for a hookup? Or do you –”

“Do I what?” he interjected angrily. “Want more from the girl I’m desperately in lo–” he stopped speaking, his mouth snapping shut and looking almost shocked at what he’d almost blurted out.

Your heart melted, and you let out an affectionate laugh at his startled look, pulling the shirt from his limp hands and dropping it back down to the floor. His face fell as he mistook the tone of your laugh, shoulders slumping as you watched him mentally prepare himself for rejection.

“Eddie,” you whispered, trailing your hands up his tattooed arms. One came to rest on his chest just over his demon tattoo, where you could feel quickened heartbeat beneath your palm. The other cradled his face, gently encouraging him to look at you. “I love you too.”

His eyes widened. “You… you do?”

You nodded shyly, a tear trailing down your cheek.

He raised his hand to cup your cheek, wiping away the liquid with his thumb, a slow smile beginning to bloom on his pouty lips. You shuddered as you felt his rings drag against your skin as his hand curved around your neck and started pulling your face towards him.

As your lips met, and he echoed your declaration softly against them, you silently thanked your mother for not fixing the phone line.

[laundrybiscuits]

(wait for the season to come back to me tag)

They’re moving Eddie’s small pile of stuff into Steve’s room when it all goes to shit. Steve’s struggling with the air mattress, trying to figure out if the pump’s attached right, and Eddie calls out, “Hey, can I hang some of my jackets and stuff in the closet?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve says, not really thinking about it, and then Steve suddenly remembers— “Wait, hang on—”

And Steve knows he’s really screwed, because Eddie’s found the shoebox. 

It’s not as creepy as it sounds. Or as it looks, maybe. It’s just, after Steve had lost the vest, he’d wanted something to have. Not as a reminder, exactly; there probably hasn’t been a single day of his life since March 1986 that he hasn’t thought about Eddie in some way or another. Just some physical thing to have and look at sometimes. 

So there’s a little pile of the few pins he could find that more or less matched the ones on the vest, and there’s a stack of cassettes that honestly Steve never really listens to anymore. One of those stupid-looking dice in black and red. A guitar pick on a chain, thinner than the type Steve normally uses. 

None of it is stuff that Eddie ever actually touched, not even once, but looking at it all together is pretty damning. There’s no way to pretend that it isn’t what it is: a fucked-up little altar to Eddie Munson circa 1986. 

Eddie’s hands flex once, twice. He turns around, stalking over to Steve in measured, liquid paces, and Steve’s never seen him so angry. 

“Hey, King Steve. Wanna score some weed to smoke behind the bleachers with Tommy Hagan? Wanna give a freshman a wedgie and call him a queer? Where’s your preppy polo shirt, Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington? Party at yours this weekend, ‘cause your parents are out of town?”

Steve stares at Eddie’s tight, furious snarl. It doesn’t feel like he’s actually expected to reply.

“You want to keep me in a box, Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes are wild and strange. 

“No,” whispers Steve. He might be telling the truth. He’s not sure. He hopes so.

Eddie steps right up and shoves him hard, flat palm smacking against his shoulder. “I’m not yours. Just because you fucking, you built a shrine to me or something. Just because you did a bunch of stuff I never fucking asked you to do, and now I live in your room. You don’t own me.”

“I know,” says Steve. 

“So.” Eddie’s standing so close, Steve can see the wheeling red lights sparking in his irises. “You don’t want to own me. You don’t want to keep me. Steve Harrington with the BC Rich Mockingbird, Steve Harrington with the secret shoebox dice, Steve Harrington, what is it you do want?”

Steve opens his mouth and shuts it again. He’s been asked that so many times, by Robin, by girlfriends and boyfriends, by his mother in a rare moment of raw frustration over a crackling international line. His secret answer, the one locked away tight in the dark, has always just been Eddie. 

And now Eddie’s the one who’s asking, and Steve doesn’t have an answer. He can’t say you, I want you, because it’ll sound like he was lying earlier. So instead he sits back on the bed—his bed, not the air mattress—and looks up at Eddie’s beautiful twisting face. Eddie looks like something from a story, even barefoot and wearing a faded t-shirt that might actually be Robin’s. Eddie looks mythological. 

Eddie looks confused.

“You could keep me,” Steve says. “If you wanted.”

It is, objectively, ridiculous. It’s too much. It is in no way cool or smooth. But it feels good and correct in a way that Steve hasn’t felt in a very, very long time. 

Eddie’s just staring down at him, staring and staring. “What’m I gonna do with you, huh?” he says quietly. “You want to be owned, Stevie? You want me to own you?”

“Yeah,” breathes Steve. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.” Eddie shakes his head like he’s shaking off the idea, sharp and dismissive. 

“Oh, fuck you, Eddie,” Steve growls. The spike of anger passes as soon as it hits. “I mean. Just, don’t talk like I’m some kind of wet-behind-the-ears virgin. I know exactly what I’m fucking asking for, so don’t act like you’re doing me some big favor by turning me down.”

“Okay,” says Eddie. “Then maybe I don’t know what you’re asking for. You gotta be crystal clear with me, here.”

“I don’t want you to leave me again,” says Steve. “I know—I know I can’t keep you from going. I’m not trying to, I swear. But you could take me with you, if you leave. And, uh. If you wanted.”

It shouldn’t be this hard to say. He’s picked up so, so many guys before; he’s as good at it as he is at picking up girls. Better, actually. He’s perfected the thing you do when you catch a guy’s eye so casually it could be accidental, then a few steps away, glance back with enough heat to seal the deal. 

But this isn’t some random otter in the Village who he’ll blow and never see again. It’s Eddie, and Eddie is sewn right into Steve’s soft tissue, where it hurts. Nothing has ever mattered even half as much in Steve’s entire life.

“If I wanted?” Eddie says, very soft.

“Anything you want,” says Steve. “I don’t know what you want, but. It’s yours. I want it too.”

“Okay,” says Eddie. “And just to be clear. Is this a sex thing.”

“It’s not…not a sex thing. I mean, it doesn’t have to be. I told you, anything you want. I meant it.”

“Hm.” Eddie lifts a hand, gently, and puts it in Steve’s hair, pushing his head back a little. “Harrington, have you been jerking off about me for the last ten years?” His voice is sharp and uneven. It sounds like the broken edge of a bottle feels.

Steve doesn’t blush. He’s sure of that. But he feels his head go hazy the way Eddie’s handling him like it’s effortless, the hand in his hair tilting him this way and that, just a little bit. “What answer do you want,” he says.

“The truth, Steve. Nothing but the truth.”

“Yeah, then.” Steve's mouth is dry. “Sorry. If that’s weird for you.”

“It’s all weird. This kind of weird, I can probably live with.” Eddie's fingertips are firm on Steve’s head. 

“Yeah,” breathes Steve. “You’re. You’re really, uh. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie purrs, and Steve feels himself go liquid, shivering and pliant, at the animal edges of Eddie’s voice. “I do not have a single solitary clue what I’m doing, but I’ve had a lot—a lot—of time to think about what I want from you, Steve Harrington.”

Eddie steps closer, sliding his hand down to grip the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve’s knees fall open automatically, and Eddie laughs a high manic laugh. 

“Steve. You know I’m a goddamn nightmare monster from the underworld. What the fuck makes you think it’s a good idea to offer yourself up like some kind of sacrificial lamb?”

“Not—a sacrifice,” Steve says. Words are getting harder to dredge up. “I trust you.”

“Fucking stupid of you,” says Eddie, and he leans in, sliding onto Steve’s lap.

This isn’t the right way to do things. Steve doesn’t really play around that much with the way this seems like it’s shaping up to be, but he knows enough to know better. There should be conversations and negotiations; his friend Connie has a whole actual Xeroxed form that she makes partners fill out, which does seem like kind of a lot to Steve. She walked him through it once, years ago, and laughed at how red and flustered he got. 

But whatever it is he’s offering Eddie doesn’t feel like it exists in the same world as any of that. It feels inevitable and impossible all at once. This isn’t anything that’s ever happened before to anyone, maybe: a dead man twisting cold fingers in Steve’s hair, pinning him down and yanking his head back to sink rows and rows of pinprick teeth into his skin.

[artofalyksandr]

Forever yours, faithfully

Accompanying ficlet below the cut. Please be kind, I haven’t written fanfic in like 8 years, and I have no beta

Journey was playing from Gareth and Eddie’s room, again. Eddie at least had the decency to turn it down when Gareth walked in, but he didn’t bother changing the tape.

“Hey, Eds. How ya feeling?”

Eddie was quiet for a while, sitting on his bed staring into the middle distance. Gareth sat gently beside him, accustomed to Eddie’s quiet moments and willing to wait. 

“I want to add something to the set list.”

“Okay,” Gareth nodded. “Whatcha thinkin’?”

Instead of answering, Eddie turned the stereo back up. An introductory instrumental began and soon enough, Steve Perry started crooning through the speakers.

Highway run, into the midnight sun

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind

Oh, the situation was worse than Gareth thought. 

“Sure, Eds, we can totally do that.” 

Eddie seemed to relax at Gareth’s lack of protest. “Thanks, Gare.”

Gareth nodded and patted Eddie’s shoulder. He left Eddie to his dissociative moping and headed down to the reception desk to use their phone.

It wasn’t a secret how much Eddie missed Steve. The two had been nearly attached at the hip since the awful events of Spring Break ‘86. Gareth didn’t know what all went down in that week but when Eddie showed up nearly dead after a town-wide witch hunt, Steve hardly left his side. They hadn’t been apart for more than two weeks since. The longer they were apart, the grouchier Eddie got. 

Gareth loved Eddie, he did. Eddie was his brother in all the ways that really mattered, but even he had his limits. And it turns out his limit was Journey. 

The line rang once, then twice. Halfway through the third ring, the other end picked up.

“Harrington residence: this is Steve.”

“Hey, Steve. It’s Gareth, is Robin at yours?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Can I talk to her?”

Gareth heard a muffled conversation and some shuffling on the other end before he finally heard Robin pick up the reciever.

“Go for Robin.”

“Hey, Robin, it’s Gareth. We’ve got a problem.”

“Tour life kicking your ass?”

“No, actually it’s been really good so far, we’re all having a blast. But I’m worried about Eddie, really worried. A few nights ago I caught him listening to Journey. Journey, Robin! And when I came back to our room tonight, he just turned the tape down instead of changing it. He want’s to add ‘Faithfully’ to the set list.”

“Shit, that’s bad.” Robin hissed. “Do you think it’s time?”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

Before Corroded Coffin left on tour, Robin and Gareth had agreed that they could call if their respective best friends seemed to be spiralling without their partner. Without question, or justification, they would fly Steve out to whichever city the band would play next so he and Eddie could meet up. 

“Okay, we’ll be there. What’s your next stop? ”

Gareth let out a sigh of relief. “Next up is Boston, day after tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect actually, I’ll coordinate with Nance. I’ll just tell Steve we’re going to visit her.”

That’s right, Nancy Wheeler was going to college in Boston. 

“Thank you so much, Robin.”

“Don’t worry about it. Eddie’s not the only one who’s been having a hard time with the extended separation,” Robin sounded tired on the other end of the line. “I’m just more used to Journey on repeat than you are.”

“Steve’s been listening to it too, huh?”

“He keeps it to once a day, for my sake. But, yes. Frontiers is part the daily music rotation.”

Something clicked in the back of Gareth’s head. If he could pull it off, he’d be the best friend/pseudo-brother ever. 

“Hey, Robin? I’ve got a kind of crazy idea.”

Gareth pitched his idea to her. 

“Holy shit, that’s brilliant! I’ll take care of everything until we get to Boston.”

“I’ll give your names to security and set it up with the road crew. We’ll see you guys in Boston.”

When Gareth hung up the phone a few minutes later, he had Nancy Wheeler’s Boston phone number in hand and a lighter much lighter heart. He and the guys could deal with Eddie as he was for another 48 hours. 

On the way back to the room he was sharing with Eddie, Gareth stopped by Jeff and Frank’s room to let them know about the addition to their set list and the surprise for Eddie.

*****

Rehearsal and sound check went as smoothly as they could have. They played through “Faithfully” a few times to make sure they had enough of a handle on it that they wouldn’t make complete fools of themselves during the show. They followed up with a few originals, and some of their favorite covers just to loosen up.

When Eddie stepped aside to check a couple of things with their sound engineer, Gareth took the opportunity to fill in the other two on the last bit of his plan. The Hawkins crew were set to arrive any minute and Gareth was going to need Jeff and Frank’s help if he was going to keep this a surprise until show time.

One of the guys from the venue’s security team waved Gareth down when the band broke for lunch.

“We’ve got some folks up at the front waiting for you. Asked for you, specifically.”

“Yeah, I’ve been expecting them, thanks.”

He nodded at Frank and Jeff and followed the burly security guy towards the front of house. When he stepped into the mid-day sun he saw Steve, Robin, and Nancy waiting for him and grinned.

“Would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Gareth laughed as he pulled Robin into a hug. He shook Nancy’s hand cordially and gave Steve a brotherly one-armed hug. “It’s really good to see you guys.”

Gareth held the door and beckoned the three of them inside. As they made their way back through the arena, he filled Steve and Nancy in on the plan, with intermitent comments from Robin. Nancy’s face lit up and Steve’s softened. 

“Gareth, if we can pull this off, its going to be incredible. I seriously owe you.” 

“We can talk about repayment later, Harrington. Let’s get this thing moving. Nancy, you’re up.”

Nancy nodded and followed the security guy towards the green room to drag Eddie offsite for lunch. Gareth brought Steve and Robin to the stage where Jeff and Frank were waiting.

“There he is!” Jeff called jovially, jogging over to the three of them. “The man of the hour.”

“Hey, Jeff, Frank,” Steve accepted the friendly hug from Jeff and returned the stoic nod he got from Frank. “I hear it’s going to be quite the show tonight.”

“That’s the plan,” Gareth said clapping him on the shoulder.

“Alright, dinguses, let’s get started. We don’t have a whole lot of time and we’ve got a laundry list of things to get done before Eddie and Nance get back.” Robin called to them from where she’d perched herself on one of the speakers.

Gareth nodded. “You heard the lady, let’s get started.”

*****

The show was going incredibly well, especially considering Eddie’s recent mood. The crowd was absolutely insane, feeding into the band’s adrenaline. As their current song came to an end, Gareth glanced into the wings where, sure enough, Steve, Robin, and Nancy were waiting for their cue. 

Eddie shook himself out at the mic stand and looked back at Gareth. Gareth returned the look with a supportive smile and a thumbs up. 

“Alright everybody. The energy tonight is insane, but I’d like to bring it down for a sec. Then we’ll be right back to the usual shit for the big finish with some crowd favorites.”

Jeff and Frank checked the tuning on their guitar and bass respectively and gave a few experimental strums, then gave Eddie matching thumbs ups.

“This next song isn’t our usual sound, like at all, but it means a lot to me. If I’m being honest with you guys tonight, the last few weeks of tour have been a bit hard for me. There’s someone back home who I’ve been really missing and this song reminds me of him. So, Stevie Boy, this one’s for you. I love you.” 

Eddie pulled the microphone from its stand and stepped back, turning his back to the anticpating crowd. Jeff and Frank began the opening instrumental with a quick coordinating glance and one last reassuring nod from Gareth where he sat behind his drum kit. Eddie let out a deep breath and brought the mic to his mouth.

Highway run, into the midnight sun

Wheels go ‘round and ‘round, you’re on my mind

Eddie bounced on his toes and spun to face the crowd.

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight

Sendin’ all my love along the wire

Gareth turned to the wings. Steve gave him a nervous smile, but he nodded nonetheless. They were all set and ready to go. At the front of the stage, Eddie continued the ballad.

They say that the road ain’t no place to start a family

Right down the line it’s been you and me

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be

Gareth watched from behind his drum kit as Eddie’s shoulders began to shake.

Oh, boy, you stand by me

I’m forever yours

Faithfully

As Jeff and Frank picked up the pause in the lyrics, Gareth gave a meaningful nod into the wings and watched Steve step into the stage lights. 

Standing on stage with the other members of Corroded Coffin dressed in their cut-off band tees, leather, chains, and torn jeans, Steve stood out. He was dressed in a weird cross of Eddie’s style and his own. He wore a black polo with thin red stripes, dark wash jeans, sneakers, and Eddie’s old battle vest. Someone, presumably Robin, had lined Steve’s eyes with a touch of kohl, and while Gareth couldn’t be sure, it looked like Steve might be wearing lip gloss. Nice touch, Buckley. 

Steve stepped further down stage and picked up the next verse without missing a beat, matching Eddie perfectly. 

Circus life under the big-top world

We all need the clowns to make us smile

Eddie’s head whipped around and he stopped, microphone still raised. 

Steve, God bless him, kept going like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Through space and time, always another show

Eddie’s brain seemed to reboot just in time and he took the next line. 

Wonderin’ where I am lost without you

Steve met Eddie at center stage and took his hand gently. Eddie’s grin was unmatched, his eyes glistening. Watching the two of them from his vantage point, it occured to Gareth that Eddie and Steve were passing the song back and forth between them. Like they’d done this before, just without an audience.

And being apart ain’t easy on this love affair

Two strangers learn to fall in love again

I get the joy of rediscovering you

Eddie moved his hand to Steve’s cheek, his touch so gentle and full of love. Steve dropped his now empty hand to the “S” tattoo that sat on Eddie’s hip bone, just above the waistband of his leather and mesh pants. There was so much love between them, and just witnessing it took Gareth’s breath away. 

Oh, boy, you stand by me

I’m forever yours

Faithfully

Eddie and Steve let the crowd sing the vocalizations, taking the moment to absorb each other before Eddie brought it home. 

Faithfully

I’m still yours

I’m forever yours

Forever yours

Faithfully

Jeff and Frank played out the final notes to an awestruck crowd. Eddie launched himself into Steve’s arms, his shoulders heaving and the crowd roared with applause. Steve cradled Eddie’s face in his hands. The two of them seemed to be having a conversation and the world outside that conversation didn’t matter. 

Gareth let them have their moment before tapping the kick drum a few times to get their attention. Steve looked up at Gareth atop his raised platform that housed his kit and gave him a half-hearted apologetic smile. He squeezed Eddie’s hip, running his thumb over the tattoo and muttered quickly to Eddie. Steve kissed Eddie’s knuckles and took his leave, retreating into the cheering arms of his best friend and his ex-girlfriend.

Eddie turned back to the crowd. 

“Holy shit, you guys.”

The crowd cheered below him. 

“Well, that was our surprise guest, Steve. At least, he was a surprise to me. But you guys came for a Corroded Coffin show and with the time we’ve got left, that’s what you’re gonna get! Let’s rock this!”

*****

After the encore, Corroded Coffin poured off stage, buzzing with adrenaline. Eddie ran to meet Steve, sweeping his boyfriend into a fierce hug.

“Holy shit, Stevie! The hell are you doing in Boston?”

“Robin said we were coming to visit Nancy, but apparently she and Gareth were scheming behind our backs.”

Eddie looked over to Robin, who shook her head pointed at Gareth. “Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for this one. The whole thing was his idea.” 

Gareth twirled his drumsticks nervously. 

“Gareth?” Eddie prompted.

“Look, dude, I love you but I couldn’t stand listening to Journey for another three weeks. And when you said you wanted to add “Faithfully” to the set list, I knew it was time to call my emergency back up. So two nights ago, I called Steve’s place and talked to Robin. And it all kind of spiralled from there.”

The awe on Eddie’s face was unmatched and Gareth couldn’t look directly at him. Eddie pulled into a hug and let out a quiet sob into Gareth’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

If asked later, Gareth would deny his own watery eyes as he hugged his brother. 

“Of course, Eds. Any time.”

[eddieslittlefreak]

this is so random, but i just got the idea and had to write it. this is gonna be twisted, not gonna lie.

So Steve never really liked Eddie. Not at all.

Steve was always the judgy, mean girl type of person and he liked the fame that was all around him. And let’s be honest. When he had to save the world (again) and he had to bond somehow with Eddie Munson, that was the limit. Steve Harrington had to bond with Eddie. Fucking. Munson.

Now this was his nightmare.

And what was even harder to handle? 

Steve grew so fascinatingly fond of Eddie.

It was just a short period of time and it really messed with Steve’s head. He couldn’t bare it, because Eddie turned out to be a nice, lovely.

After his death, Steve shook off all of these feelings, and he was just glad that he was alive. He was back at his old, sassy, king of Hawkins self. He got praised, like a hero, who did all the great jobs. And Eddie? Eddie was long forgotten as the dude, who was there, when Steve saved the day. Steve kinda bragged about how he survived, but Eddie just got eaten by some stupid bats, now how funny is that?

And how was this fair? 

A month passed by and Steve became.. a bit paranoid. He felt like he was being watched or followed. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but it freaked him out. He turned over on the streets, because he could literally sense the steps behind him, a pair of eyes burning a whole into the back of his neck. He tensed his jaw, but saw no one. Not a single soul. 

No human.

This continued for a few days, and he tried to play it off cool, but it was like a heavyweight tied right to his foot.  Then on a seemingly calm Saturday, the first call happened.

“Hello?” Steve picked up the phone, balancing it on his shoulder and trying to hold it to his ear, as he was packing some groceries into the fridge.

“Living your best life, Stevie?” 

Steve almost dropped an egg in surprise. The voice was familiar, but suddenly he coudln’t recall who was it.

“Who is this?” he asked in confusion, as he closed the fridge’s door with his hip.

“You left me there.” the voice said. “But don’t worry. Now you can’t get rid of me.”

Then the call ended. Steve was shocked, his heart was baiting rapidly against his chest. Maybe his brain suppressed the trauma, or he just simply didn’t want to remember, but as the first drop of sweat ran down on his back, he started to think he was losing his mind.

The calls never really stopped. Actually, they became daily. In every hour, the phone rang and whenever Steve picked it up, there was no answer from the other side of the line. This drove him nuts, and one day, he lost all of his patience. No one can play stupid games like this on him, this is not a damned horror movie. Jokes like this weren’t funny at all.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you want?” his voice was rough this time as he picked up the phone. The answer was a soft chuckle, and Steve’s stomach jumped into a knot. 

“It’s me, Stevie.” the voice cooed soflty. “Munson. Remember? Bats’ food, isn’t that right?” Steve’s fingers whitened as he was gripping the phone ever so tightly.

“This isn’t fucking funny.” he said, voice breathy and shaky.

“It’s not?” Eddie asked, laugh hiding in his voice. “I thought it was hilarious, how I got murdered by some stupid, stupid bats.” he spoke slowly, ‘cause he knew he had all the time to make those chills run down on Steve’s spine. “Who remembers Eddie Munson? It was Steve Harrington, who saved the day, huh?”

“Eddie, I-”

“Well let me tell you something, big boy.” he interrupted. “You made me do this. With all of those jokes and degrading comments.. you didn’t think the cup would be full once, right? And now everything that was in it, spilled out.” 

“This can’t be fucking true.. it can’t!” Steve was beyond overwhelmed with grief, feelings and fear. Mostly fear.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much on this. This is true, Steve.” he said mirthfully. “Just be still, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

[pizzaqueen]

One line any fic!

Rules: pick ten of your fics, scroll to somewhere midpoint, pick a line chunk and share it, and then tag ten people.

I was tagged by @glorious-spoon - thank you so much!! I may have gone overboard with my selection sizes lmao

Okay, I’m going to be honest, this has been sitting in my drafts for ages because I wasn’t sure who has ten or more fics so I didn’t know who to tag and then I felt bad for not tagging anyone but I thought if I said ‘anyone can feel free to do it’ then it would look like a cop out but I really do mean it!! So I’m going to post it and I might add tags later, which is maybe weird but oh well

alone again, or

Steve nods, not trusting his voice, and Eddie moves to his shoulders. Occasionally, the calloused pads of his fingers brush Steve’s bare neck and little sparks of electricity prickle beneath his skin. What the fuck is wrong with him?

It’s nothing. They just don’t do this. They touch like any friends do—Steve pushes away the memory of one of Robin’s friends, when they’d gone to stay with her a while back, saying, “You guys touch a lot, you know?” leaving Steve completely fucking baffled—but they don’t give each other shoulder rubs. It’s just the newness of it making Steve feel like this.

Till I Kissed You

Sun beats down on the windshield; sweat beads at Eddie’s hairline, the back of his neck. The air inside the van is stifling, even with the windows down, but it’s not the heat that’s making his head swim.

It’s the look on Steve’s face when Eddie gave him the most transparently bullshit excuse of all time, playing over and over in his head. He just… He panicked. He was convinced Steve wouldn’t want to talk to him at all, and then he had no idea what to say when Steve asked him to hang out. No idea what it meant. Was Steve as into the kiss as Eddie maybe, sort of, almost definitely was? Or does Steve want to pretend like nothing happened?

more than a feeling (that's the power of love)

“So it’s the power of love, huh?”

“Someone should tell Huey Lewis,” Steve says.

“Great, now I’m going to have that song stuck in my head.”

“It’s a good song.”

“It’s really not, Steve. And I don’t want it to be the last song I think about before I die.”

One of the other robed figures says, “Yeah, Huey Lewis sucks.” It sounds like the kid Steve knocked out earlier.

“No one cares about your opinions on popular music, Corey,” the man in front of Steve and Eddie says.

when bad dreams become

They get ready for bed and, not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to do this with Steve every night. Maybe in their own place, which is a big and scary thought, but as something in the future, it’s…kind of nice, too.

Steve takes the side of the bed by the window and Eddie gets in beside him. They don’t do this often, but it’s not unusual for one of them to crash at the other’s place when they hang out, and when they do they bunk together.

Eddie sometimes wonders if Steve has any idea how he feels when they’re lying side by side and, if he did, if he wouldn’t want to share the bed with him anymore. Or maybe… Maybe he feels the same. It seems unlikely, but sometimes…

bowl me over

“Nah, Ozzy’s got nothing on you,” Eddie says, flapping the bat’s wings in Steve’s face.

Steve smiles, nudging him away with his shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Just telling it like it is, man.”

“Whatever.” Steve rolls his eyes—it’s not like he hates compliments, or never gets them from anyone else, but it’s different when it’s Eddie. “Just eat your lunch.”

Eddie shrugs and reaches across Steve to grab a handful of fries from his plate, shoving them in his mouth.

fix you up

“I had fun tonight.”

“Bar fights how you get your kicks after all?”

“Mm.” Steve rolls his head from side to side. “They’re okay.” He snorts and opens his eyes. Eddie’s looking at him, eyes hazy but fixed firmly on Steve. Steve hits Eddie’s knee with the back of his hand. “I meant seeing your band play.”

“You’ve seen us play before.”

“Does that mean I can’t have fun?”

“No, I just… Didn’t think it was your scene.”

“I don’t think I even know what my scene is.” Steve slumps down, his knee nudging Eddie’s. He lets it rest there. “Sometimes I wish I was more like you.”

turn on your light

“I had a bad dream.” Eddie’s heart is still beating hard. He knows exactly what Steve thought. “Sorry if I spooked you, man.”

“It’s fine.” Steve gives Eddie’s shoulder a squeeze, then lets his hand fall to his lap.

The nightmare recedes, but he can still feel it. So much of it had been real and it’s going to haunt him forever. “I can’t— I thought if we beat him, made him pay, I… It would make it okay.” He looks at Steve. “But it doesn’t, does it?”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie’s Badass Metal Mixtape (For Steve)

“You know, it was pretty sweet of him to make this.”

“Sweet?”

“Yeah.” At Steve’s incredulous look, Robin adds, “He made you a mixtape of his favorite songs.”

“He just wanted to, you know…” Steve trails off, biting his lip. He shrugs. “Make sure I know who Ozzy Osbourne is.” Which wouldn’t take a whole tape. He clears his throat. “And then filled it up with his other favorite songs.” And, sure, Eddie didn’t have to do that but—

But what?

never can say goodbye

Once again, Eddie watches as Steve walks to his car, pats himself down, and turns around to come back to the trailer. Eddie stays by the door, opening it the moment Steve knocks. “Forget something else?”

“Yeah, I can’t find my wallet. Pretty stupid, huh?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

They go through the whole pretence of looking for the wallet, like they did with the keys. This time, Eddie finds it where Steve had stuffed it down the back of the couch. He holds it out to Steve but, when Steve reaches for it, pulls it back. “Pretty funny you left your wallet and your keys here.”

stumbling in

Steve licks his lips and looks up. The thing is, he’s not even sure why he wants to know so bad. It was just one kiss. And it’s not… He’s not… It’s not like he wants to kiss Eddie again, or anything. And if it wasn’t a joke, and Eddie is gay, then, whatever. That’s fine, isn’t it? Steve’s fine with Robin, so he’d be fine with Eddie, too.

[thestobingirlie]

Omg yes, I've been part of lot of fandoms and most ending were like: a) the show got cancelled and the characters never got justice or ending for that matter, or unexpected cancellation so they had to tied up loose end to the season that in pre-prodution so most of the plotlines were never explained or they games of thrones type of ending, and if i am honest st started loosing sense once they decided to go the 'bigger is better - quantity over quality- which is visible in season 4, and then there you have bunch of people that will claim that everything was planned ahead even tho, stranger things was supposed to be anthology series meaning each story will be only season long and then move on to another plotline or story with different characters but Netflix/people feel in love with these characters so they kept writing for the characters that we know/love but sometimes the characters act ooc it's like those arcs were planned for different characters and they just kept the names of the characters from S1, or something like that and tbh the crew/cast seemed so enthusiastic to make this project that is homage for 80's but now it's like everyone lost passion/drive.. and you're famous on Twitter because of anon that kept going about Nancy and the kids but I'd like to add that Nancy knows those kids pre-pilot she played d&d with them but stopped playing because she grew up and high school might stressing for some and she wanted to date and stuff and there's nothing wrong with that, and she spent some part of 3 with them but considering people might forget because the show has huge gaps..

And what's your opinion on the Eddie Munson book?

yeah, i think from season 3 it became really obvious that certain plot lines and character arcs were being written to draw a bigger audience in, rather than for the benefit of the story. i don’t know if stranger things will burn down quite as badly as game of thrones, but i do agree that i think people see the duffers as… smarter than they really are? like, i’m not calling the duffers stupid or anything, but people are paying attention to tiny details that i don’t really think matter in the grand scheme of things. and though the duffers can come up with an incredible story and dynamic characters, they do have weak points. so yeah, i don’t know, i guess my attitude towards season 5 is basically just try not to get too excited, and there’s always fanfiction.

honestly, that’s kinda a boring reason. i don’t know, i feel like i’ve said more unpopular opinions before, but that’s what got people riled up? huh. anyway, thanks for telling me lol! and yeah, nancy has known the kids a long time, but it’s clear in s1 she isn’t close to them, and she doesn’t spend time with them. and people seem to think when i point that out i’m dragging nancy, which i’m not! like most of the st crew, they hang out when the world is ending, and clearly care about each other. but they don’t go out of their way to spend time together otherwise.

it’s actually kinda funny though, because steve antis have gone from calling steve pathetic for only have 14 year olds for friends, to desperately trying to prove that they are nancy’s friends. like i thought that was pathetic? pick a lane.

and i did speak about the eddie book when we first heard about it! but basically i don’t care much for it. i think it’s a money grab, and i can’t imagine the story being that entertaining because… it’s about eddie trying to get out of hawkins, and we know he doesn’t. he dies. what a pointless book. (oh and i know a lot of steddie’s are annoyed about him maybe having a female love interest, and i do not care about that at all, lmao. the book’s not even canon! and even if it was, i didn’t care about the duffers canon before, i’m not gonna start now.)

[venomous--fics]

@geekgirlofarchangels Requested: Hi! (I just wanted to say that I love your writing, it's amazing)😍

Can I request Eddie Brock x reader, who bake sweets for him, basically try to show her love for him in many ways in a day to day basis, and when she decides to tell him that she loves him, she sees him with Anne and misunderstand everything.

She panics, but ends fluff? Sorry for any mistakes English is not my first language

A/N: No worries!! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!! Day 6! So many more to go!

"I think I need better piping tips." You said, looking over to Eddie for some reassurance.

The man had a one track mind, and right now, the only thing he could think of was the cookies you had in the oven. He's been staring at it for the last five minutes.

"A watched pot never boils." You said, finally catching his attention.

"And watched cookies never bake." he retorted turning around to look at the cake you'd be decorating, "I think it looks nice."

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"You're not just being cute and nice, right?"

"What would I gain from lying? Name one thing."

"More sweets?"

"That is true, but I don't have to lie to get those."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you moved the cake to the other counter so that way you had room for the cookies. Before you, Eddie wasn't really the type of guy to have a sweet tooth, but oh boy you sure did change that. You worked at a bakery, and you were still practicing your skills any chance you got.

Eddie was a good and somewhat unbiased judge. He never lied to you, but he was never mean about anything either. If something needed worked on, he'd tell you nicely.

"Why are you stressing so much about your decorating skills anyways? I think you're amazing at it."

"My boss really wants me to start helping out in the decorating area..I was just worried that I was totally going to suck." You set your piping bag off to the side and wiped off your hands, "I just want to make sure I can do everything perfectly."

"You got this. It'll be a breeze for you. I mean, c'mon, look at it. It's really good."

You took a moment to really admire your cake. Yeah, it was pretty good.

Eddie really was so nice and loving to you. He was nothing like any of the other people you'd chosen to spend your time with before. Eddie actually wanted to do things with you, and he was constantly dragging you along for new adventures, and actually paid attention to your wants and needs.

You really liked him. Well, if you were being honest, you were really hopelessly in love with him. And you wanted to tell him, and you were sure he felt the same, but you really wanted to make it special.

Should you write it in icing on a cookie? Or maybe he was a bit tired of cookies. Maybe he'd expect you to do that since you're a baker and all. Maybe you should just tell him. Face to face.

You both left for work, saying your goodbyes and sharing a kiss or two. You were going to tell him after work. It'd finally be a weight off your chest to finally say just how you felt.

Despite having a seemingly normal day, you began to feel a little puzzled towards lunch. Normally, somehow, someway, Eddie always found his way to your work. It was bizarre how your lunch breaks always lined up, but you were sure he did that on purpose.

He didn't show up today, so you spent your break alone. You'd texted him to have a good rest of the day at work, but he never texted back. Maybe he just got busy, you told yourself.

You managed to clock out and make your way home, and still no response from Eddie. He wasn't even home yet. It was 6:45. Normally, he's home way before you. You shrugged it off as a late day at the office as you changed out of your work clothes.

Eddie got home at about 7:15 pm, and didn't say much as to why that was. He was his normal cheery self. He doted on you as usual, and you two ate together. Every thing was fine, but it didn't feel fine.

Things continued on like that for a few days. You had this persistent nagging feeling that Eddie was hiding something, and it was getting in the way of talking to him. It was getting far too annoying to ignore.

Today, one of your rare days off, you decided to hell with it. You were going to make Eddie a nice dinner and just tell him. Maybe then the nagging feeling would go away. Maybe you were just nervous because this was a huge thing to say, especially to Eddie.

You were making your way downtown, to the store, to pick up a few ingredients for dinner. Your list was short, so this really shouldn't take too long. You walked passed a café that you and Eddie frequented, and your body froze just a few steps passed the big front window. The hell was that?

You must've been seeing things. Surely you hadn't seen what you thought you saw, right? Not wanting to be seen, just in case your eyes weren't tricking you, you turned your body a little. You couldn't believe it. There was was. Even if all you saw was the back of his head, you knew it was him solely because of who was sitting across from him at the little table.

"Anne?" you asked yourself quietly.

She looked like she was in good spirits today. Her smile was warm and inviting as always, and it looked like she was chuckling at something Eddie had just said. You couldn't look away.

Why would he do this to you? Are you really surprised? After all, he did love her first. Maybe he never really loved you to begin with.

You made your way back to the apartment to gather your thoughts. There was to be a rational explanation for this. They weren't doing anything bad, but, you did find yourself worrying because...Well, you know, it was Anne.

For the first time in years, you felt angry. How could he do that to you? You should just leave and just call him later and tell him that you're never coming back. You froze halfway to the door once you realized what had really happened. Eddie chose her. And you knew that time after time he'd do it again.

You felt stupid. You felt a few tears slip out and you tried to fight them off, but that only seemed to make it worse. The door opened, and the sound of keys hitting the counter caught your attention.

"Oh!" Eddie said, "You're home! Good, I have- Hey, are you okay?"

You just stared at him.

He walked over, attempting to comfort you, but you took a few steps back, causing him to freeze. He looked wounded.

"Did something happen?" he asked, lowering his hands.

"I don't know," You said bitterly, "Why don't you go ask Anne?"

"Anne?" Then it registered, "Oh! Oh, no, babe, that's-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, Eddie! How could you do that to me? How could you string me along and then just backstab me like that."

"No!" He really wanted to hold you, but he knew he had to refrain, "No, no, no! It wasn't like that. I swear!"

"I can't even look at you." You rushed into the bedroom, slamming the door. "God! I'm so, so stupid!"

Eddie listened to your slightly muffled yelling for a minute or two before moving over to the door to open it.

"I shouldn't even be here anymore!" You shouted, throwing open the door, "I have to go."

You tried to move past Eddie, but as a reflex, he grabbed your arm, "Please don't do that."

You tugged and pulled, but you couldn't wiggle free. He wasn't holding too tight, and he wasn't hurting you. You just couldn't get free, "Let go of me!"

"I swear I'd never do that to you!" He pleaded, "Will you just let me explain?"

You stopped fighting and just stared helplessly ahead, "What is there to explain, huh? You don't love me like I love you, so there's nothing left to talk about."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do! But it's obvious that you don't love me! So, just, let go!"

"I love you too!" He said loudly.

It's like the whole world stopped in that moment as your head whipped around to look at him. He looked like his whole world was about to end. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go down.

"I love you." he repeated, "I- I'm so sorry I didn't say it sooner. I..I got nervous so I, as stupid as it sounds, I went to Anne for advice."

Your whole body relaxed as you listened to him.

"I wasn't sure how to say it- Or, I guess, say it right." Eddie sighed a little, "I asked her what I should do. She was always better at this stuff. She gave me this bright idea of a movie and dinner...But it seems like that's all out the window now."

You realized your mistake, "Eddie, I'm sorry...I didn't want it to happen like this either. I had a plan too, and I guess I ruined it."

"I should've just told you. I was just scared you wouldn't feel the same."

"Wouldn't feel the same?" You wanted to sound offended at the thought, "Eddie, why do you think I do all these nice things for you? I wanted to tell you for ages, but I just couldn't."

Eddie let go of your arm, and pulled you into a hug. He hugged you like his life depended on it. You hugged back before sighing, "This really isn't how I wanted this to go."

"I know." he said, "Doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

You shook your head.

"I mean it. I really do love you. I just wanted to make sure I did everything right this time." He sounded disappointed with himself, "I guess I'm always going to screw some things up."

"That's okay." You reassured, "I don't know if you noticed, but I ruined this whole thing. Your plan, my plan. All of it."

"I wouldn't say ruined." Eddie pulled back to look at you, "I'd just say this was a little out of the ordinary."

"Do you still want to go out for dinner? Is that still in the cards?" You asked curiously.

"Of course. Why don't we just take a breather for a little bit."

[boredfanwrites]

Buddie #1

There is not a bone in my body that can accept that in any other universe they wouldn't be perfect together. Post 4x14 so SPOILERS for that. This got so much longer than I thought it would be. Sorry in advance, there's much more under the cut.

· Eddie tells him about the will. Chris goes to Buck if anything happens to Eddie. Which it very nearly did.

· It causes Buck to actually stop and think things through before rushing into danger.

· The rest of the team question it while Eddie's recovering but he just says there's someone relying on him now.

· They take it to mean Taylor - well Chimney and Albert do, Hen and Bobby are more clued in.

· Buck talks about Eddie and Chris like he did when they quarantined together - like they're living together again.

· They are.

· Buck moved in to help Eddie and his recovery, with Ana stepping in when he was on shifts - even if she tended to undo everything Buck had done.

· He tells himself it's because she's not used to the way he and Eddie do things - yes that one singular bowl and plate live in the lower cupboard, it's so Eddie can reach them easily. Chris always picks the movie on movie nights, Eddie and Buck alternate when he's gone to bed.

· Eddie is stubborn as always, but has managed to allow Buck to help him dress and shower - Ana is very much not allowed, despite her protests they're barely in a relationship.

· Eddie explains to Buck that yes, they've been together for six months but they've not really been togetherand he quietly admits that he regrets telling Chris so soon.

· Buck calms him and says that it was right to introduce Chris to the idea of Eddie dating, but yeah, maybe it wasn't smart to spring Ana on him so early - especially because she decided she had to be a bigger part of his life now he was aware.

· Chris manages to get to the station once while Buck is on shift.

· Buck comes back to Albert making him pancakes and Chris scribbling with the things they keep for the school trips.

· 'What are you doing here, bud? Does your dad know?'

· 'Kinda.'

· 'What does kinda mean here?'

· 'He knows I wanted to see you. I don't think he knows that I came here.'

· Albert quickly jumps in saying he's texted Eddie and he and Carla are on their way, it just happens that the rig got back before they got there.

· Buck sits down with Chris, leaning his head on his arms and looks at the picture. It's him, Eddie and Buck with Carla and her husband in the background.

· 'What's wrong, Chris?'

· 'Ana.'

· 'Ok, what did she do?'

· 'Tried to get me to bath before I ate and then said I had to do my homework before TV time.'

· 'Buddy, you always have to do your homework before TV time.'

· 'But she tried to help me.'

· 'Your dad and I try our best to help you. She's a teacher, she's better use than us.'

· 'No that's not it.'

· Chris has tears in his eyes and a death grip on his crayon.

· 'She told the poor boy his handwriting was ineligible and took his pencil, tried to get him to tell her the answers and that she would write them for him.' Carla sighs.

· She stands with her arms open and Chris runs into them. Eddie looms behind them, looking sad.

· Well, neutral really, but Buck knows his micro expressions well enough.

· After that Ana is banned from the house in the afternoons/evenings and Carla steps back in. The new problem is Ana turning up when Buck has days off - their schedule was she was here when Buck wasn't, for multiple reasons.

· Ana's great, there's just something about her that Buck doesn't like and she definitely doesn't like Buck. Maybe it's because they're just opposites.

· Eddie tries to gently tell her that he barely gets to see Buck anymore and he needs it for his mental health. Ana starts pestering about the fact that he should want to see his girlfriend more than his best friend.

· It's one of their biggest fights and turns into a screaming match one night (Chris is at Hen's with Denny but Buck is hiding away in the guest room) where Eddie shouts that she had decided that she was his girlfriend without asking Eddie if that was what he wanted and she was suffocating.

· She leaves pretty quickly after that and Buck is incredibly happy as their paths never cross again.

· There's an emptiness settling in his chest when he finds out that the two are still together and are treating the relationship as though they're just dating again. He hates that he really doesn't like the idea that it's working out now that they're on even footing.

· He decides to push it away and starts getting reckless again. Taylor's hanging around the station more like she wants more from Buck, but he'd given up. She liked being chased and now that he's tired of it, she wants him. He knows she'll get bored if he shows interest again.

· It's interest he doesn't have. Eddie had called him Evan and told him he deserved more. How was he supposed to go back to normal after that?

· Why doesn't Eddie see how life changing that was?

· Eddie does. But in typical Eddie fashion, he pushes it deep down and replaces it with his content being with Ana. She makes his parents happy, which makes him happy. She gets along with Pepa and Isabel and his sisters, but they act a lot more familial with Buck.

· It makes sense, he tells himself - they've had years with Buck.

· Nothing really changes for Buck until TK and Judd find themselves in LA. Buck hastily explains to TK that he wasn't asking him out back in Austin, he just wanted a friend and really he wasn't attracted to guys.

· TK just straight up laughs at Buck.

· 'Buckley, you checked me, Carlos, and the barista out in the span of like five minutes. You're a little attracted to guys.'

· 'Wait, you mean you and Diaz ain't datin'?'

· Judd's question throws Buck through a loop.

· 'What? No...we're just...we're friends. Best friends.'

· TK laughs again, patting Buck on the shoulder.

· Once they're on their last day, TK takes Buck out for a drink like he'd promised. Buck tries to ignore the fact he's brought him to a gay bar.

· He gets hit on at least three times in an hour, not to mention the building collection of beers for both him and TK and he decides he doesn't actually mind it.

· 'Ok, I want you to do something for me. Scan the crowd and pick a guy, any guy, and tell me what you find attractive about him.'

· Buck picks out a shorter man, tanned skin and dark hair.

· 'He's got a cute smile.'

· 'Oh boy, you have a type.'

· 'Huh?'

· 'He looks like Eddie.'

· And he does. Like a Walmart version of Eddie though. He didn't laugh like Eddie, didn't have the same laugh lines. Or frown lines. His eyes weren't as warm when he met Buck's nor did he smile as fondly. And...

· 'Fuck.'

· 'You just now realizing your feelings for him?'

· 'Yeah. How did I not know?'

· 'Honestly, it was probably such a subtle shift. From what you've told me you've basically been a couple for a year and a half, so you didn't realize anything had changed for you.'

· 'I've never denied it.'

· 'I mean you clearly must have.'

· 'No. I meant that there have been so many times people assumed Eddie and I were a couple and I never denied it, I went along with it all.'

· 'Shit man, you had it bad before you even realized.'

· Buck groans as TK throws an arm around him, leaning against his shoulder.

· Things change after that. Buck is hesitant with physical touch with Eddie - it's his main love language and he needs to make sure he's not overdoing it and making Eddie uncomfortable.

· Eddie notices because of course, he does. Buck has pulled away from him for seemingly no reason. The second Eddie can dress, shower, and reach the high cabinets himself Buck is talking about going home.

· He is home.

· Eddie doesn't say it, he just hums, not really agreeing. He's gotten used to Buck being around and so has Chris. They'd easily fallen back into their quarantine routine and now Buck would be leaving again.

· A quick thought of getting shot again fills Eddie's head. Though this time it's nothing to do with his PTSD and more so that he doesn't want Buck to leave. So he exaggerates just a little.

· 'You know, my PTSD is still acting up. Maybe, you could stay until it balances out a little?'

· 'You'd want me to?'

· 'Yeah, you're great at getting me out and calming me and Christopher down.'

· 'You don't think Ana should start taking up some night shifts?'

· 'I don't really want her to deal with that side of me yet.'

· 'Okay.'

· 'Okay?'

· 'Yeah, I'll stay.'

· Eddie keeps an eye on Buck just as much as he keeps an eye on Eddie. He quickly realizes that Buck is holding in his own troubles. He knows from experience that Buck does not think his problems are anywhere near as bad as everyone else's. He has a lot of unlearning to do.

· Subtly, Eddie starts talking to him about his mental state, his worries, trying to let Buck know it's ok to do the same.

· When he and Ana inevitably break up not even a month later, it's Buck that he tells first.

· Buck, who has his back.

· Buck, who loves Christopher as his own.

· Buck, who is insecure about everything he does except saving people.

· Buck, who thinks he is unworthy and undeserving of love.

· Buck, who shows his love through acts of kindness and physical affection.

· Buck, who Eddie is so unapologetically in love with and probably has been for years.

· The revelation doesn't shock him like he thought it would. More so, it was a natural progression of their relationship.

· Friends. Best friends. Co-parents. Co-habiting. Partners. Partners.

· Eddie sees a future with Buck, a future he'd only ever seen with Shannon but it's so much brighter.

· He comes home from his first shift back - Buck wasn't working and offered to look after Christopher so Eddie knew he was safe - to find Buck on the couch, staring into an empty beer bottle.

· 'Hey?' it's broken and Eddie drops his things to rush over to him.

· 'You good?'

· 'No. I'm not.'

· Buck looks up, tears in his eyes, cheeks red and puffy.

· 'What's going on, Evan?'

· That's all it takes. He breaks. He babbles about watching Eddie die over and over in his dreams. How sometimes the shower will splash his face just so and he's thrown back with Eddie's blood on his face. How he was trying to get through it with Dr. Copeland but it wasn't helping.

· Nothing was helping.

· 'It's ok. I'm here, I'm okay.'

· 'You weren't. You died, Eds. You died on me.'

· 'You saved me.'

· 'What if I hadn't? I don't know a life without you anymore. I can't lose another person I love.'

· 'You love me?'

· 'Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?'

· Buck registers his words, quickly backing away from Eddie and tries to make a break for the open door. Eddie isn't letting him run away anymore. His wrist snakes around Buck's.

· 'Evan. I told you there wasn't anyone else I'd want to look after Christ. I told you you weren't expendable. I said that because I love you and you needed to hear it. You had to learn you deserved love. Love that Chris shows you. Love that I can show you. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.'

· Buck crumples in Eddie's arms, Eddie rocks him gently until the sobs subside.

· It's not an immediate or obvious change. There are still things the two need to work through.

· It's different but the same. There's more contact now; hugs, tactile hands on waists, and backs at work. Kisses in the bunk, soft and slow.

· It's new and exciting. Especially when they finally get together, officially and exclusively.

· Chris loves telling everyone about his two dads.

· Eddie and Buck are happier, closer.

· Buck had always been a Diaz. He'd always had a family who loved him. The big change was he got to love them both endlessly in return.

[half-bakedboy]

it’s okay (not to be okay)

(read on ao3) 

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.”

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff.

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do.

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.)

___________________________

[From: Ana]

Eddie had a panic attack and was taken to the hospital. He’s okay, but he’s struggling, Buck. I can’t get through to him, but I think you can. 

[From: Ana]

He doesn’t want anyone to know. Chris had to tell the doctor he was shot. I don’t know what to do.

[From: Ana]

He just dropped me off at my house. Maybe someone should check on him later?

Buck stared down at the messages on his phone, panic thrumming through his body with each passing moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and held in the breath he had sharply inhaled to hold back his own alarm. It was a feeling he was used to, one that he grew to absorb and hold back because he couldn’t let it interfere with his life, his job. He needed a clear head and when he didn’t have one, the panic would become too much to handle, a cross he couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself bear.

Eddie didn’t panic. Eddie was the one who didn’t make rash decisions, who thought through everything before he acted, who kept everyone else calm in each crisis the team had. His level head made him an amazing soldier, a phenomenal firefighter, an ideal father, and… well, everything Buck had ever wanted to be. 

So to say he was worried about Ana’s texts was an understatement. 

He held his phone up to his ear and when the sound of Eddie’s voice rung through the speaker, he deflated. The familiar sound of Eddie’s always professional voicemail pissed him off more than anything so he wasn’t about to give up. He dialed the other number saved into his favorites and after a few rings, rustling sounded through. 

“Buck?” Christopher asked, voice muffled with sleep. Buck checked the time on his watch and sighed. 

“I’m sorry, buddy, you go to sleep. I was just trying to reach—”

“Dad’s not gonna answer.” 

Christopher said the words so matter-of-factly that Buck felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“You think so? Why is that?” 

“He told me and Ana not to tell anyone,” Christopher began. 

Buck could hear his pout and he wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he had to convince himself of it first. Christopher could see right through him and he wasn’t willing to have the kid lose sleep over his own nerves. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Buck promised, “but can you let me know what your dad is doing right now?” 

“He’s in bed. He didn’t even take a shower and he loves showers,” Christopher exaggerated. Buck let out a huff of laughter. 

“You’re observant, you know that?” A few moments of silence passed and even through the phone, Buck could hear Christopher’s worry. “Hey, he’s okay, right?”

“I think so.” He didn’t sound sure. 

“Well, both Ana and I are looking after him and you know who else is?” Buck asked. 

“Who?” Christopher whispered. His breathing was starting to slow, his voice sounding even more muffled as he slowly lulled himself to sleep. 

“ You . He’s okay because he has you, just like he always has, got it?” 

“Got it,” Chris agreed quietly. “Love you, Buck,” he added. 

The line went dead before Buck could say it back, but he figured Chris knew what his response would be anyway. 

___________________________

Over the next day, Buck did what he did best. He watched. He noted Eddie’s behavior. He considered the inflections of his voice, the content of his words, the way he handled himself. To any outsider, it was like nothing ever happened. 

Buck wasn’t just anyone, especially to Eddie.

He pretended not to notice Eddie’s hesitation when he was tasked with helping Chim wire the air traffic controller. He pretended that Eddie’s hand didn’t feel too heavy on his shoulder when he stood up to quickly diagnose the other man with a potential panic attack. 

He pretended he didn’t see the way Eddie’s hands trembled a little more than they usually did after a call while they made their way to the fire truck and ambulances with the victims. He pretended not to see Eddie close his eyes for a few moments and take a deep breath, in and out, calculated like it wasn’t quite second nature anymore. 

It wasn’t until they entered the emergency department that he had ammo for confrontation. 

“Hey, what was with that doctor on the way in? Why is she asking if you’re alright?” Buck asked. He played nonchalance really well but he could be proud of himself for that later. 

“It was nothing.” Buck just stared and Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t feeling well the other day, so… she checked me out.” 

“She’s a cardiologist. At a hospital,” Buck supplied. He knew Eddie didn’t think he was that stupid—or at least, he hoped. “Are you saying you had a heart attack?” Buck asked, immediately concerned that maybe he didn’t let Ana and Christopher in on the full story. 

“No, I’m not saying I had a heart attack. I’m saying the opposite,” Eddie said smugly, “I’m saying I didn’t have a heart attack.” 

“But you did think you were having a heart attack,” Buck appended. He was leading Eddie to the point, feigning dumb for the good of the situation, but Eddie wouldn’t budge. 

“Can we just drop this?” 

Before Buck could argue, Hen walked over and asked, “Guys, want us to tag you out?” Eddie agreed, but Buck felt his annoyance rise within him. He couldn’t stop himself from his next words. 

“Great idea. Eddie really shouldn’t be exerting himself right now.” 

“Seriously, Buck?” Eddie asked, standing up with a huff. 

Buck didn’t have time to be frustrated, because Bobby was instructing him to assist with other patients and he had a job to do. 

(Two jobs, if he counted protecting Eddie from himself.) 

___________________________

The front door to Eddie's apartment slammed and Buck could see the tension jerk at Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Buck questioned. 

“There wasn’t anything to tell, Buck,” Eddie said stubbornly. Buck would have smacked him if he wasn’t so worried. 

“Nothing to tell, huh?” He held up his hand and counted off his fingers as he listed off, “You had a presumed heart attack and were sent by ambulance to the hospital. Turns out it was a panic attack and when asked if there were any stressors lately, you lied to the doctor about getting shot—”

“I didn’t lie, I—”

Eddie stopped himself when Buck’s glare narrowed even further. 

“Your son had to tell the doctor that you were shot,” Buck corrected. Eddie pressed his lips together, unwilling to argue. “You almost have another panic attack on a scene and tell approximately no one only have a full-blown meltdown on a helicopter that’s hanging on by a thread in the middle of a rescue. Am I missing anything?” Buck asked, though it was clear he wasn’t looking for an answer. 

“I’m fine—” Eddie began. 

Buck waltzed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could while still being aware of the bullet hole-shaped scar left behind from those few months ago. The scar that might have physically stayed on Eddie, but lingered in the back of Buck’s mind every single day. 

“You’re not fine, Eddie! You almost died and you’re sitting here like life goes on and nothing has changed.” 

“Nothing has. It was a panic attack, not another near-death experience.” 

“You say another like it’s a normal occurrence in people’s lives,” Buck exclaimed. “It’s not! It’s not normal for people to get shot and survive—not once, but twice. It’s not normal for people to just move on with their lives like they weren’t nearly ended. It’s not normal to carry on like nothing is wrong when something is fucking wrong, Eddie!” 

“Buck, you should take a step back—” 

Buck pushed himself away before Eddie’s hands could press against his shoulders, that thumbprint on his pulse that reminded both of them that they were still there. He leaned against the wall behind him, unable to hold himself up without assistance anymore, and sighed.

“You didn’t tell me,” Buck said, a whisper of admission into the air between them like a secret Buck wasn’t ready to tell. 

“I couldn’t,” Eddie muttered. 

“You couldn’t?” Buck scoffed. “You didn’t trust me? You didn’t want me to exhaust you with my worry? Give me one good reason why you couldn’t tell me!” 

“Because then it’s real, Buck, okay?!” Eddie yelled. He ran his hands through his hair before he pounded a fist against the wall beside him. It would hurt in the morning, that much was obvious by the sound that echoed through the empty room. 

“What?” Buck asked quietly. Eddie breathed deeply like he hadn’t taken in air in months. Buck wasn’t convinced he had. 

“If you don’t know, then I can forget it’s happening. I’m not reminded of that moment where the pain was so great that I couldn’t hold myself up and only trusted myself to reach out to you to pick me back up. I’m not haunted by the fact that I almost made my son an orphan for the third time in his life. If you don’t know, then I can pretend it never happened and move forward.”

“From what, Eddie? You can’t just move forward. You know that,” Buck prodded. 

“Yeah, well, I sure as hell can try .” 

They both paused, taking the moment of silence to breathe, to think, to figure out what was next. 

Eddie made the first move, walking over to where Buck had leaned back against the wall and matched his position. He pressed their shoulders together, his eyes glued to the way Buck’s chest moved up and down slowly, imitating the movement as if he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it himself. 

Buck yearned to reach out and hold him, but instead, he asked the questions that lingered on his mind. 

“When are going to let us—any of us—in? When are you going to let me help you ? When are you going to admit that you’re not okay?” 

Eddie didn’t—couldn’t—answer, but the shake in his shoulders was unmistakable.

As he slid down the wall, Buck followed his every move, wrapping an arm around his waist to ease the fall. When they landed, Eddie pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and let out a gutwrenching sob that had tears bubbling behind Buck’s eyelids. He held them back as best he could because, at that moment, nothing else could matter but Eddie. 

Cries of pain, anguish, fear, every horrible emotion that had been welling up inside of both of them burst from Eddie’s mouth and he fell into Buck for the support he extended. He clawed at the collar of Buck’s shirt, his nails raking against the skin of Buck’s chest, but nothing was as painful as the way Eddie gasped at the breaths that didn’t seem to come as quickly as he needed them to. 

Buck held Eddie’s hand to his heart so he could feel the simple rise and fall of his chest and mimic it again. His other hand grasped at the shirt of Eddie’s back to keep his panic away, his own way of anchoring himself there so he could continue to be the solid weight Eddie needed to push through. 

Every part of them was entangled and Eddie had no choice but to press his face into Buck’s neck. Buck hoped his heartbeat stayed solid enough to remind Eddie they were both still alive, even if it felt like they weren’t. 

“I’ve got you, Eds, I’m here. I won’t let you go, never.” 

It was too much to say, too easy for Eddie to read into the double entendre of his words and Buck selfishly hoped he was too lost in his own mind to realize it. 

But the words or the touch or the steady calmness Buck forced himself into seemed to ease Eddie out of the attack of emotions that surged through him. Little by little, Eddie’s sobs turned to hiccups, his tears turned to trickles, and the white-knuckled grip he had on Buck loosened but didn’t fall. He breathed in time with Buck, his heartbeat slowing to its correct rhythm, and the tremors in his body settled to occasional chills. 

“Buck?” Eddie asked, as if he barely realized what was happening inside of him. 

“I’m here,” Buck reassured. 

Eddie shook his head and when he finally glanced up, all Buck could see was the redness around his eyes and the tear stains that looked too permanent on his skin. 

“I’m not okay,” Eddie admitted— finally —before pressing his face back into Buck’s neck with a whimper like the words were painful to acknowledge out loud.

“Yeah, Eddie, I know.” 

Buck couldn’t resist kissing the top of his head and letting his lips linger for just a second too long. 

“I need your help,” Eddie said, his voice graveled with emotion.

“You’ve got it,” he promised again.

“Yeah, Buck, I know,” Eddie teased because of course, even in his darkest moment, he had to get the last word in and it had to be something full of that sarcastic barrier he protected himself with. 

Buck let him, though, because he figured Eddie knew what his response would be anyway.