#jesus christ there is a lot of mike in this one

[st-twitter-sillies]

hi, im eden

[mansion-of-haunts]

his voice means to deceive you

my voice just wants to lead you

below the surface (x)

[theghostofashton]

thought about continuing my rewatch and then remembered i don’t care that much about anything besides the finale at this point lmfao 

[tboygareth]

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something

[acowardinmordor]

You Left Me, You Miss Me - Five

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Continuing immediately from part Four. And I hear your screaming, and enjoy it, but I am pretty sure that I'm not going the direction you expect me to.

------

“Huh?”

“I asked them to,” Eddie repeated, quieter.

It didn’t make more sense the second time.  His kids were stubborn. They were obnoxious, and someone asking them to do, or not do something had never once changed anything. Steve spent the last few years asking them not to leave crumbs in his car, and to call before coming over, and to please, just once, let him choose the movie on a movie night. Plus the part where everyone asked them not to put themselves in danger when monsters crawled out of the ground. 

Threats didn’t work on them, law enforcement didn’t work on them, like hell was something as delicate as asking going to do a damn thing. 

“Yeah, no, I heard you, but I don’t get it. So you, what? You sat them down and asked them to ice me out? And they said ‘sure why not!’ Man, even if you asked them to, they’re still the ones that did it. Shit, you’ve never liked me. There’s no way that you didn’t tell the boys to stop hanging out with me last year during your game meetings before everything happened.” Eddie shrank further into the seat, so Steve added, “So, it’s not your fault, but I guess I forgive you if that makes you feel better.”

Eddie gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wincing at what felt like every other word.

“Shit, Steve, it’s -- Shit,” he cursed as he sloshed some of his coffee over the brim. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was curled in on himself. “I didn’t sit them down and tell them to stop talking to you. That -- no way that would work. You’re right. They wouldn’t just -- Like I said, they’re crazy about you. It’s more, it’s all of the, I told them about how ever since -- shit. Look, it doesn’t matter why or how I did it, just trust me, I’m the reason. It’s my fault, and I fucked up, and I didn’t mean it to make -- but you left, and it’s killing them, and so you gotta forgive them, at least talk to them, cause its not their fault.”

“Yeah,” Steve stalled, “still don’t get why you think this is on you, dude.”

“At the beginning it -- shit, no. Doesn’t matter. Jesus Christ, Munson, don’t make this about that. Okay. I asked them not to invite you if I was around, cause I wasn’t -- I didn’t want to see you, and then I made sure they were always around me because -- because I wanted them to. And then I, you know, kept poking at them about it when they’d bring it up, reminding them that you don’t like D&D and that you wouldn’t want to watch the new Star Trek movie, and when they said anything I just kept telling them that -- Shit, just believe me. I’m the one that made them do this, it’s my fault, it’s not them.”

Okay, so Eddie was pushier since Spring Break than he was before it. Or the kids listened to him more. Or they were trying to take care of him. So Eddie was the prompt for them cutting him out of everything. Fine.

Still didn’t make it the guy’s fault. 

Steve got close with Robin after she found out about the Upside Down. But he didn’t get close to Jonathan. Dustin became, for a while at least, his brother. Steve would die for Mike, but they didn’t hang out if it wasn’t a group thing. All of them were tied together, and any one of them could make a call, and everyone would come to help, but that didn’t make them all automatically into friends. 

God, Eddie looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown in a booth in a diner. 

“Look, it’s,” Steve spun his coffee cup, “you’re real close with the guys in your club right? The ones in your band?”

Eddie went tense, then nodded awkwardly.

“You’re close because of that stuff, though. Not just cause you had some classes together or were next to each other on a bus. You got pushed together for some random reason, but  that happened with a lot of people. But you had shared interests, right? You like that game, and you got bullied at school and you like the same loud screaming music. So you got to know each other, and you had a bunch in common, and so you guys are friends. You’re close, so even though you graduated, and you don’t have class and lunch together anymore, you’re still friends.

“Christ, Steve, no,” he protested. 

Steve ignored that and kept going.

“I never had that with the kids, or any of them. Shit. Never had that with Nance either, but I didn’t know it back then.” His inner Robin glared, and he stayed on topic. “It wasn’t as simple as sharing some classes, there were monsters and all that, but that’s what kept me and them around each other. No more monsters now, so.”

His stomach twisted, like it always did if he got too close to thinking about this. 

He only barely managed to talk about this with Robin, because when it was Robin he was honest, and when he was honest, really honest, he ended the night quiet and hurting and picking apart the past year trying to find what he could have done differently. Shoving all of that back into the dark of his mind, he conjured up a casual shrug and a smile. 

“I get that they’re probably freaking out right now, but they’ll get over it. Give it another month or two and it’ll be fine. Start one of your campaign -- your big story things and distract them if they’re bugging you about it.” 

He wiped up the coffee Eddie spilled on instinct, and shoved the napkin in his now empty cup. 

Time to get home and get a nap before he went to the stockroom that night. He wouldn’t see Robin until he picked her up for work, but they were scheduled alone, so he could talk all of this through then. Trying to pretend this day didn’t happen would last all of eight seconds of contact with his best friend. Maybe she could make sense of how he was feeling. 

“Wait, stop, you can’t leave yet.”

“Munson, I’ve been here since before dawn, I wanna leave.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you have to talk to them. They miss you.”

“They didn’t six weeks ago, did they? Or for the holidays? Or for the months before that, huh?” Steve finally snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry. Answer’s still no.”

He bussed their cups and the creamer to the pass through and grabbed his coat and gloves. Steam rose off Hopper’s truck where he had the engine running to keep warm. They exchanged a single nod before Steve turned towards the road to walk home. 

“Steve!” 

It wasn’t a shock to hear, but Steve had hoped that Eddie wouldn’t follow. 

“Okay, I get that you’re not going to just forgive them, and that you don’t want to talk to them, but--”

“No. I don’t. And I know you think this is your fault, and I’m telling you it’s not, and I told you, I’m not mad at you about this. We weren’t friends. I’m not mad at you for not wanting me around or whatever. That’s fine. And? They’ll get over it, and everyone can just move on with their lives with the people they actually like.”

Steve’s stupid voice betrayed him, cracking, and he cut off the rest of what he might have said. Anger was the fastest way to shut down weakness, and it was easy for him to sink into it.  

Eddie had his hands in his hair, clutching at it near his temples, looking borderline hysterical. 

“Would you at least listen if they talked?”

“They don’t have my phone number, and if you tell them where I live, I’ll send Mrs Buckley after you. And Hopper.”

“You could call them.”

“No.”

It wasn’t about who placed the call. If he heard them, if they said a fraction of what he wanted to hear, he’d cave, immediately and entirely, and then both the real life Robin, and the mini Robin in his brain would give him hell. 

“Steve come on, something, anything. Letters? If they write letters?”

“I’m not giving them my address, and Hopper already asked about mailing stuff through him instead. No.”

It was cold and he was tired. Just about the only person in the party that he didn’t care had abandoned him was trying to pull Steve back into the vat of slow simmering pain he was still climbing out of. 

“Look, Eddie --”

“I’ll drive them. The letters. You don’t even have to answer, or read them. Let me tell them that I can bring you letters, and I’ll drive them up here. If you do want to answer I’ll wait and then drive whatever it is back. As many times as you want.”

“Come on, man.”

“I won’t even -- I don’t have to know where you live, or your number, anything. I can come here. To the diner. Won’t even come inside, just drop them off and wait. You won’t have to talk to me, or see me. Just, come on. Even if you never forgive them, or answer them, let them have this. Even if you don’t read what they say, let them think they got to apologize.”

The wind shifted, and Steve tucked his chin into his coat to wait it out. 

Eddie was shivering two steps away, gloveless hands shoved under his arms, hair tangling into more of a mess than usual. 

“That’s a stupid idea, Munson,” he said when the gust stopped, “If they know that you know where I am, and you don’t tell them, they’re going to hate you. They’d drive you insane trying to get you to tell them, and they’d be horrible the whole time. They already ditched me for you, so, don’t make them hate you too.”

“They already hate me.” The response was immediate and defeated.

“Dude, they don’t.”

“They do. They figured it out a few weeks ago. That I was the reason. Just cause you don’t get it doesn’t mean they don’t. This is my fault. They already hate me. They won’t even talk to me long enough to yell. They act like I don’t exist.”

“Christ, Munson, is that why you’re up here, freezing your ass off in a parking lot and bitching at me? So you can get them to like you by getting me to talk to them?”

Eddie flinched. Didn’t say anything for a minute as he shivered with wide eyes. Then, without any of the dramatics the guy was known for, “Please, Steve. Even if you throw them out right after. Let them write to you, and let me tell them the truth when I say you got them. I think they can survive if they don’t hear back. They’ll blame me, but that’s fine, they should. The silence is what’s killing them. They need to say how -- they need to believe that you heard how sorry they are.”

It was so fucking cold it was making Steve’s eyes water. That was the only reason for it. The cold front that came in overnight.

“I’m not gonna promise to read them,” he caved.

The tension collapsed out of Eddie, and he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I work here in the mornings Monday through Wednesday every week. You should drop them off then. M’not saying I’ll read them, or write anything back, but if they want to write, fine.” 

Eddie nodded over and over, hiding behind his hands, and whisper-mumbling something that Steve couldn’t catch. He was shaking again. The kind of full body wracking that meant the cold was sinking deep.

“Christ, go get in Hop’s truck before your fingers freeze off or something.” 

Without waiting for a response, or checking that he listened, Steve turned and kept walking. Another gust of wind tore through him, loud enough that he wouldn’t have heard another call of his name. It was a good thing that John messed up the big combo that morning, and Steve had eaten it during the lull after breakfast. He wasn’t going to manage anything else until tomorrow at the earliest. 

That was assuming Robin didn’t kill him on the spot for his stupid, stupid decision. 

Ten steps down the road, and he already regretted it. Even if he didn’t read anything, even if they never sent anything, the choice would sit like a rock in his gut; a new ache, a new bruise, and Steve was dumb enough that he’d keep poking at it. 

---

I'm sad that this is two chapters without Robin. That's some kind of a crime. Can guarantee that Robin has Strong Opinions about this when she talks to Steve that night.

I don't do tag lists or regular updates, and I have no shame about that.

>>>>>Part Six

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[steve-faglan]

Breaking and Entering

Reader x Steve Raglan/ William Afton

TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON!!!

Summary: You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.

PART TWO: HERE❤️

William Afton was widely known to be involved in the disappearance of several children during the years that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was open. Because of this, he's renamed himself Steve Raglan and taken on the role of career counselor to ensure a security guard for his life's work.

Not only smart but extremely well coordinated, William navigates the halls and secret passageways of Freddy's today just as swiftly as he did in the 80's.

You'd been to Freddy's back in its glory days. You've seen the animatronics in their prime and even witnessed the tall yellow rabbit mascot that used to walk around, though he creeped you out, so you always steered clear.

Lately, college has been taking a toll on your mental state, so you decide to indulge in some good old-fashioned nostalgia in the form of "innocently" breaking and entering at Freddy's. Mostly you're just looking for a place to smoke a joint and think about anything other than your major you wish you'd switched a year ago.

"Come on, you said you'd go with me. No one's ever there, it's been closed since the fucking 80s, man," you plead with your friend Mike to join you.

"The temp agency just tried to get me to work there!"

"So then there's no security, right?!" You drive a hard bargain or maybe Mike's extremely obvious feelings for you influence all his decisions.

"Alright. I'll be over in 10. I'm putting Abby to bed." He caves and you giggle in victory before hanging up. While waiting for Mike, you roll a few joints, grab your CD player, and slide a lighter into your front pocket. The minutes drag by until you hear Mike's piece of shit car pull into your driveway. You bolt out the door and climb into the vacant passenger seat.

Mike can't help but stare at you for a minute. You're easily the most beautiful person in this town as far as he's concerned, but he can't bring himself to make a move considering his ever-complicated home life.

"Thanks for doing this, dude. School is kicking my ass." You smile at your friend, and he quickly turns away, hoping the night is concealing the blush on his cheeks.

The drive to Freddy's is short and exciting. It's been years since you've seen this place. Mike pulls into the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot and the two of you devise a plan of entry. At the very back of the building, there are two large loading dock doors. With both you and Mike using all your strength, you get it open just enough to crawl through.

"Jesus Christ, what did I let you talk me into?" Mike coughs away the dust.

"Come on, this way!" You drag him by the arm, the blood in his face rising just from your touch. Anyone with two eyes could see how Mike felt about you, except you.

You and Mike sit on the floor, right in front of the main stage. The four, old robotic humanoid animals still occupy their spots, holding their respective instruments or props. Time has been unkind to them.

You spark up one of the joints and pass it back and forth to Mike. You each share a headphone as you stare into the tall, decrepit ceiling of the restaurant.

"You think the bathrooms here still work?" Mike asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Surely they do if they wanted you to work here, right?" You ponder the question further. "Maybe check the ones in the office area." You point to a door that you recall from childhood that leads to the "boring" part of Freddy's. You ended up there by accident and swore you heard screaming, so you never went back.

Mike disappears in pursuit of a restroom, leaving you by yourself on the large, open party floor. You light another joint and stare quizzically at the robots. You become lost in thought thinking about how lonely it must be here, after all this time.

"You've been waiting for an audience, haven't you?" You tilt your head. Mike's taking longer than you anticipated, so you grab the other headphone and place it in your vacant ear. The volume is loud enough for you to imagine the animatronic band playing it. For a moment, everything around you melts away. You close your eyes, reliving a carefree time in your youth.

"Y/N!!!" Mike barrels down the hall. He's sprinting around every corner, tripping and stumbling the whole way in fear and adrenaline. "GET OUT!! GET OUTSIDE!!" He screams, but you can't hear him. You can't hear a thing. Just as he's about to make physical contact with you, he's yanked backward. The large, yellow rabbit that used to freak you out drags Mike behind the kitchen doors before bludgeoning him over the head, knocking him unconscious.

"I thought you couldn't do nights, Micheal?" The rabbit man binds Mike's wrists together and drags him through the same doors as before. He securely fastens his restraints to a support beam and stands. Already a tall man, he towers in the suit. William Afton.

William slowly turns his head, looking right at you. You sit with your back to him, on the far side of the room, closest to the stage. He takes two steps before you glance behind you, wondering where your friend is. Your breath hitches in your chest when you're met with a giant bowtied rabbit. You glance behind him to see Mike's motionless body on the floor. Time's moving too fast to tell if he's alive or not, and you scream again before taking off toward the door.

The rabbit man gestures to the stage and begins to slowly stalk toward you.

"Stay the fuck away from me! What did you do to Mike?"

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't stop fucking screaming!" William's voice is robotic and warped through the automated helmet of the suit. He's inhuman to you. Your mind can't wrap your head around the fact that anyone is in the suit, let alone William Afton himself. You try to silence your wails, but you can't do anything to stop the terrified sobs. All you can do is think about Mike.

"I-Is he dead?" You whimper, in a state of shock.

"Not yet," is all the rabbit says before he advances on you, grabbing you with unnatural strength. Your arms are pinned by your sides and he lifts you off the ground with ease. Kicking and fighting does nothing but bruise you up, but you try regardless. You manage to free one arm, and in your hysteria, you knock the mascot's helmet off his head. The helmet falls with a heavy thud, but it's as if it's muted in the background as you stare at William. He stares back, unfazed by his revealed identity. It almost looks like he's smiling.

"W-W-W-"

"William," he growls before placing his steel-covered hands around your throat while you were too distracted to notice he'd sat you back down. You claw at the lifeless metal and cloth, but slowly, your vision becomes blurry, and then... Nothing.

Mike wakes before you. He recovers quickly as he realizes where he is. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.

"Y/N!" Mike screams, but there's no reply. He's alone in silence for a few minutes before the unmasked rabbit man appears carrying your wilted body. Mike begins to panic. "What did you do to her?!"

"Calm down, Micheal. She's just tired. She's gonna need her energy." William grins, sending a wave of nausea through Mike's stomach. "You should feel lucky, you get to watch." He steps out of the robotic suit revealing clothes similar to the ones he wore when he first met Mike, not long ago.

"Watch what?" Mike raises a brow. William doesn't reply, he just starts cutting the clothes off of your body. "What are you doing?! Don't fucking touch her!"

William laughs at him, licking the entire length of his middle finger and sliding it inside you while he stares at Mike. He continues to play with you, rendering Mike into a livid mess. William shakes his head, amused, continuing with whatever dark plan he's already hatched for the evening.

You have no idea how much time has passed, but eventually, you wake up. You groan as you try to sit up, only to find that you're bound to a tabletop in an X formation with your legs hanging off the side where your knees bend. There's a raggedy drape of cloth over your body and the dry, musty smell is enough to make you sick. You scan the room in a quiet panic, unable to move and truly study your surroundings. Quickly you spot Mike. His left eye is swollen and will surely be blacked by the time you get out of here... If you get out of here.

"Mike!" You try to yell, but it comes out as a strained wheeze after the damage William did to your throat. Mike locks eyes with you and that's when you notice how scared he looks, but not for himself. You furrow your brow and look in the other direction. There stands William. He's out of the suit now, standing over you with a devilish grin.

"Breaking and entering isn't a good look for either of you," William chuckles. "But especially you, sweetheart." William places a soft hand on your cheek. You recoil in fear.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Mike thrashes in his restraints. It's clear to you that Mike knows what's about to happen before you do.

"Please, we're sorry. We won't say anything to anyone, just let us-"

"Don't be cliche. You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. This is someone's stuff, you know? Someone's livelihood."

"I'm sorry," you sob.

"You're gonna be," William hits the joint he commandeered from you, and after a long drag, he flicks it to the side and begins to unfasten his belt.

"No! No, no!" You plead, arching and bucking your hips in hopes of loosening the cables that secure you to the tabletop. Mike causes his wrists to bleed, but he still can't get free. William strokes his erection as he watches your helpless body writhe under the sheet. You accept your fate, horrified and humiliated, you look away, facing the stage. You quickly notice it's empty and your heart begins to race.

"They won't be joining us. This is for my- our eyes only." William releases a deep, taunting laugh and starts pumping his middle finger in and out of you again.

"M-Mike..." You try to ask for help, unsure of what he could do for you at this point, but desperate to be free. He won't even look at you now. He's slouched over, looking at the floor, trying to drown out the sensual wet sounds coming from William's fingers scissoring inside you.

"He doesn't want to save you, sweetheart. He wants to see you get fucked against your will." With his last word, he heaves the entire table closer to him, giving Mike a front-row seat to the show. Panic consumes you. Before you have the chance to beg for mercy again, William tears the unkempt sheet from your body, leaving you entirely exposed.

"No! Wait, please!" Your fight or flight response kicks in, but you're helpless to do either. The cables strain against the table, but you're unable to move an inch. You look back at Mike. He meets your gaze and the two of you share a knowing look before you feel William slide the head of his cock up and down your clit, soaking it in the arousal your body had no choice but to pool between your legs after the ways he touched you.

"You make it hard to believe you don't want it when you're dripping like this, sweetheart," William taunts. You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed and afraid, unable to watch the blood rise in Mike's face as he watches you get defiled. Just as you're sure William is about to slam into you with no mercy, he pulls away. You open your eyes and glance at him in confusion, hoping he's realizing he can just let you both go and that would be the end of it. But that's not the case.

William bends to knees, placing your soaked entrance right at the perfect height for him to consume you.

"Let's see how difficult I can make this for you." William buries his tongue in your wet folds, flicking the muscle delicately over your violated clit. You try as hard as you can to fight back any kind of reaction, but you fail. A soft, breathy moan slips from your lips like a note from a music box. William laughs against your sensitive skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Mike hangs his head in defeat, listening to the sounds of you succumbing to William's sensual touch.

"What are you sorry for? She loves it," William smirks before curling a finger inside you, eliciting another explicit moan from you. He regains his standing position and replaces the head of his erection at your pulsating entrance, waiting. "I've needed this. You have no idea how stressful it is to keep a place like this under wraps."

All you can think about is how stress got you here. All you wanted was a smoke session with your best friend in a cool venue, and now, here you are. You're jarred from your thoughts when William's massive erection drives into you. It's abrupt and painful, but your body gushes with arousal to make up for the stinging, pleasurable friction.

"No!" You scream. Mike fights against his restraints one more time, thrashing and sliding his body in any direction he can, but he's stuck. William throws his head back in ecstasy as he plows into you. He's fucking you like he's eating his last meal. Breathless grunts of focused pleasure fall from his chest. His rough, calculated hands find your breasts, toying delicately with your nipples.

You close your eyes and try so hard to escape the reality of the situation, but William lands a hard, heavy smack across your face, shaking you back into the moment. With a stern hand, he grabs your face and forces you to look at Mike. He's red-faced, enraged, and tired. You can't decide if you want him to look at you or not.

Mike mouths an "I'm sorry" to you, but all you can do is stare at him while William picks up his pace. Your vision is unsteady as he jostles you around.

"You've gone quiet. I think I need to fix that." He draws his hips back and in a split second, your eyes widen in fear before he slams into you at full force. A loud, moaning wail emits from you and the humiliation finally tears your gaze away from your best friend. "There she is," William smirks, steadying his thrusts yet again.

"Please... Stop..." You moan between gasps. Your orgasm is building at break-neck speed. The last thing you want is to climax around William's invasive erection, but it seems as if you have no other choice. The hitching breaths in your chest become loud, sultry moans. Your mind is too frazzled to focus on withholding any signs of enjoying him. Tears stream down your face, but you admit to yourself that you don't want him to stop.

Mike looks away for a moment, but can't help but stare at you. Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches so intensely. He watches the 'O' shape your mouth takes and imagines those same lips wrapped around him. He has to shift uncomfortably, hoping to conceal his already obvious bulge. After you've ridden out your high on William's cock, he slowly slips out of you. Taunting you.

William knowingly reaches under the table and unfastens whatever link was holding each of your extremities. Your hands instinctively find your most delicate, used areas.

"Don't touch yourself unless I say so," he snaps, taking your wrist in one of his strong, demanding hands. His riddance of contact allows your mind to clear from the climax and you're suddenly afraid again. A notorious serial killer is making you his toy.

"Let her go, you've had your..." Mike searches for the words, but he's unsure how to describe the vulgar scene before him. "Just let her go, man." He looks exhausted.

"Don't talk yourself out of a good thing, Micheal," William chuckles before shoving you to the ground in front of Mike. You land with a thud, releasing an involuntary whine of pain when you hit the hard surface. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"No! I-" Mike attempts to protest, but William cuts him off.

"Oh, please. You're not fucking her. Probably never will. Now you get to get off on the idea that it's being taken from her."

"You're a fucking monster!" Mike thrashes against his binds, protectively snapping at William like a guard dog.

"You want me to let her go?" William squats beside the two of you. You lie fucked-out and terrified, curling up next to Mike for some sort of dignity. William grabs your hair and sharply yanks you toward him. You release a high-pitched squeal and allow him to guide your head to Mike's pants zipper.

"What are you doing?" Mike shuffles uncomfortably.

"Don't make me wait," Afton snaps at you and you quickly reach a shaking hand for Mike's pants button.

"What are you doing?! Stop, let her go!" He tries to shake your hands away, noticing the waves of tears falling down your face as you already piece together what William might make you do.

"Mike, I-" you're cut off by William shoving your face into Mike's newly exposed crotch. He diligently bobs your head for you, fist still wrapped in your hair. The second you make contact with Mike's cock, he releases a deep, sensual sigh. Small moans fall out of him left and right, nothing he can do to stop them.

"Tell her to stop, Mike." William waits, but Mike is silent. You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears well up. "Tell her to stop, and I'll let you both leave right now." Silence.

"Mike?" You beg, relieving yourself from the forced fellatio. Mike doesn't look at you, he can't. William smirks and shoves your face back to work. He makes good use of your throat as you take Mike as deep as his shaft can possibly go, ignoring any protest from you.

Mike begins to pant heavily. Little whimpers escape his mouth as his orgasm builds.

"F-Fuck," he huffs before finishing down your throat. When William finally pulls you away, you're a choking, sobbing mess. Betrayal doesn't properly describe what you're feeling right now.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I- I don't-" Mike fumbled over his words, red-faced and breathless.

"Shut up, now. You had your turn." William lifts you from the ground with ease and throws you against the same table as before. This time, you're bent over it, presenting your ass to him like a trophy to be won. To be taken.

"Please let me go home. I want to go home..." You sob with your face pressed to the large party table. Mike's eyebrows upturn as he watches you cry. Guilt consumes him, and the helplessness of your cries only amplifies that. He's not sure why he didn't tell you to stop, he knew it was the right thing to do. But he was so enveloped in the feeling of your lips bobbing up and down his erection, how could he ever ask for it to end?

"Shhh, you're doing fine, sweetheart." Afton coos in your ear as he leans over you. He's so tall, it's nothing to him. He plays with your pussy for a moment, slipping a long, nimble finger inside you. His eyes roll back in his head as he tests how tight you are in this position. "Perfect."

William slips inside you, fucking you as if he didn't just screw you senseless not long ago. His large, calloused hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek, and a loud slap echoes through the empty restaurant. You release a cry of pain every time he lands a blow, and he does it a lot. You're fucked out, beaten, bruised, abused- everything.

"Plea-" you beg, but another HARD smack to the ass shuts you up.

"Shut up! I'm so... Fucking..." William slams into you one final time before you feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. "Close..."

"No!" You try to kick and fight and do anything in your power to stop him from cumming inside you, but it's entirely too late. You sob loudly as Mike watches in horror. William removes himself from you and his handiwork spills from your swollen entrance. Your weak knees wobble under your weight.

Afton looks at Mike and grins deviously before flipping you over and clasping his powerful hands around your neck. The sound of Mike pleading for your life becomes a dull mumble in the background as you slowly lose consciousness. Once you're out, William readjusts his rolled-up sleeves and lands a hard, knock-out punch on the side of Mike's skull.

He dumps you both in the back alley, unsure if you're both alive or dead. He doesn't care, he just doesn't need you here anymore.

Mike wakes up first, placing a gentle hand on his face and wincing at the pain.

"Y/N? Y/N!" He scrambles over to you and takes you in his lap. You're still naked and you're covered in bruises and scrapes, a testament to how hard you fought and how strong William is. "Please wake up. Please wake up, dude. This isn't funny."

You don't move.

"Please wake up! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!" He repeats over and over, shaking you and lightly tapping your face with his open hand. Finally, you suck in a big breath. The sound of you inhaling causes Mike to jump, but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, relieved to see you alive.

"Mike..." You groan. He quickly sheds his jacket and wraps it around your crumpled form, hoping to give you some sort of cover. The two of you get into Mike's car and head back to your house. The ride back is mostly silent until he finally speaks.

"Y/N, I- back there, I..." He doesn't know what to say.

"I don't think he would've let us go anyway." You stare out the window in a state of shock, secretly reliving the way William made you feel.

"No- that's not the point. I mean-" Mike struggled with his words yet again.

"Do you think he let us live for a reason?" You finally glance at Mike. It's the first time you've looked at him since he filled your throat with an entire friendship's worth of pent-up feelings.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. We're never going back there, I promise." He's attempting to comfort you, but something depraved and demented inside you is already thinking about what he'd do if he got his hands on you again.

[chirpsythismorning]

Byler is a slow burn y’all!

While it’s possible milkvan could break up in early s5, or maybe they consider their fallout in s4 their breakup and are only now addressing it and how they’ve realized they’ve been better off as friends over the last year, it’s still gonna take some time for byler to confront everything over the last few years and both get to a point where they have clarity about their own feelings and finally accept that the other one feels the same.

I don’t think there’s enough time to explore all of that before Mike and El have that talk on the roof, or even shortly after that, even if it’s post-time jump.

It will still be interesting to see where Mike and Will are at in their relationship by the time the time jump rolls around.

It’s unlikely the painting will have been addressed without us witnessing it, unless they decide to throw in a flashback at some point if it happened during the time jump.

Which means there is still a lot they need to talk about, let alone for them be literally dating.

I think it’s also possible Will won’t know Mike and El are over for real, not until Mike or El tell him and the others.

What this might result in is an episode or two of Mike pining for Will (single 😁) while Will is none the wiser and maybe even trying to keep his distance, now under the assumption that Mike wants space to be alone with El since they’ve finally reconciled once and for all.

There’s gonna need to be episodes exploring their dynamic as friends that can be something more if they want to be and how they navigate that and how obvious it is that, in contrast to Mike and El, while they are indeed friends, they work even better as being something more too.

They’ve invested the entire series to building this up, in a way that most of the audience missed. They need to spend some time now making it obvious so that people can rewatch a lot of their scenes for what they truly are (romantic) now that they know the truth, as opposed to just being ambushed with them being together.

I need people that didn’t even want it to happen to have to endure the tension all season long, to the point where they’re screaming at their screen JUST KISS ALREADY! GET IT OVER WITH! JESUS CHRIST!

[imaslutforcuddles]

DUMB DUMB

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM!READER

Summary: Your a cheerleader at Hawkins high, Jason trusts you exclusively. Well mainly because your his childhood bestfriend. Yet there is something that no one In the squads know. Your a fantasy lover, and hellfire Is the best fucking thing you’ve ever joined. After being tired of Jason’s bullshit, you decide to mess everything up between the two of you. Best thing yet, he never even saw it coming.

Warnings: Swearing, substance use, smoking, angst (jason), bullying, fighting, loss of virginity, SMUT, p in v, oral (f receiving), squirting, unsafe sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), little bit of Dom Eddie :), praise, subby reader, good girl and shit like that, a lot of orgasming lmfao, overstimulation, Eddie is big.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: OMFG ITS FINALLY DONE. BTW people HAVE SEX IN THIS SO MINORS BE AWARE!!!!!! I’m not in-charge of your media consumption so i can’t make you click off. I WILL BLOCK YOU THOUGH- The title is a song that i found from a movie called Do Revenge (maya hawke acts in it). I fucking love It, def recommend. HERE Is the Spotify official playlist for it, also recommend listening to while reading this. A smut fic bc eddie deserves some pussy.

You reach into your bag grabbing a twenty, “Is it going to be more expensive because I’m friends with Carver?” Eddie chuckles grabbing the cash and hands you a bag of pre-rolls, “Nah, you get a member discount.” You pause looking down, “Well damn.” Eddie raises his brows, “I guess i can’t leave hellfire then.” The both of you start laughing uncontrollably.

You wipe a stray tear off your face while you both get up from the bench you were sitting on. Sighing, Eddie comes closer to you, “Why are you even friends with him?”

“Because I’m going to make him hurt, like he hurt you.”

Eddie widened his eyes and huffed, “Jesus. h. christ.” He cleared his throat and looked away, trying to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. Smiling, you grabbed your bag. “Hey Eds i think we should head back, I don’t want to miss out of the worst fucking school lunch i’ve ever eaten in my life (we can all agree school lunches are vile).” He frowned, but then grinned not wanting to seem too vulnerable. 

“Yep.”

-

Eddie picked through his lunch as always, head in his hand. 

“Hey Eddie are you okay?” Dustin frowned as Eddie raised his head and grinned. “I’m just fine Henderson.” Mike and Lucas looked at each-other sharing a knowing look, “Are you sure Eddie because you kinda look like shit,” Dustin continued. Eddie glared at him, “What did you just say?” Dustin widened his eyes and looked away gulping, “I j-just mean you look a bit tired that’s all!” Eddie shook his head scoffing, “Yeah okay Henderson.”

He looked around and caught your eyes. You winked and smiled at him as he looked away embarrassed. 

“Hey peach who are you looking at?” You winced at the cringe pet name and your grin became a thin line as you realized who had started talking to you, “No one Carver.” He stared down at you for a minute waiting for a different answer before it turned into a glare, “I fucking saw you wink at him.” He huffed. You kissed your teeth and sighed, “Who are you talking about jason?” 

He scoffed, “You fucking know who the fuck I’m talking about Y/n.” Rolling your eyes you turned to meet his, “I actually don’t Jason that’s why I asked.” He tensed up realising you weren’t going to confess. “You were looking at the fucking freak!” He whisper-shouted. Pressing a hand to your temple you sighed, “He’s not a freak Jason.” 

“Oh-ho yes the fuck he is! Why are you defending him?” He fought. “You know what jason?” Pausing you huffed out air you didn’t know you had held in. “The only freak here is you.” You looked everywhere but at his face as he frowned.

As you started to walk off, you turned your head hearing one word fall out of his mouth, “Whore.” You widened your eyes and shook your head. “NOW I KNOW YOU DID NOT JUST FUCKING CALL ME A WHORE JASON CARVER!” If looks could kill, he would be dead on the cold and dirty cafetera floor. His tense figure softened a bit as he started to cower at all the eyes laid on the two of you, “I’m sorry Y/n.” Scoffing at his lame apology you waved your hand and walked off, “Yeah you fucking should be. God you disgust me.”

-

Being in that school was so suffocating that the second you walked out your breath returned to your body, and you could finally breathe.

You dropped your head and closed your eyes. How could he have called you that? He was far from the truth, you were a virgin. You normally don’t take any sort of offense to being called slutty or anything like that, but Jason wasn’t the type you would pin for slut shaming. Or so you thought. And you couldn’t stop the naging words in the back of your mind.

Jason Carver isn’t a good person. He deserves to pay.

-

“The hooded cultists chant, hail Lord Vecna.” You scoff and look over at mike. ‘tf is this dumbass saying?’ You mouth, mike grins at your comment and shakes his head with you. “Hail Lord Vecna. They turn to you,” His eyes jolt to you and you freeze, ‘God damnit i can’t fucking die first again, Hegla is too precious to me.’ You cry to yourself. “Remove their hoods, you recognise most of them from makbar. There is one you do not recognise, his skin shriveled,” He turns his focus onto jeff and your breath steadys a little as Erica gulps next to you. “Desiccated, and something else. He is not only missing his left arm, but his left eye!”

Your face drops and you look to your right, “WHAT!” you shout with dustin. You have already lost so much to Vecna, and you thought he was killed by kas!

You lift your hands up to your face and start fake crying. though you believe you might actually start to cry, “Venca is DEAD.” “He was killed by kas!” Mike agrees. You rub your temple in defeat, “So it was thought my friends, so it was thought. BUT VECNA LIVES.”

You gasp again and drop your body weight into your chair, “We’re fuckin dead, doomed, through. Pack it up people!” 

Eddie chuckles and continues on while others groan and huff.

-

“You are scared, your tired, you are injured. Do you flee Venca and his cultists?” You grip your chair fuming and hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline, “Or do you stay and fight.” 

-

You all sit in silence for a while, even Eddie gets impatient. “Come on,”

You think deeply about the consequence of running away, ‘you’d be a coward. but, you’d live.’

Dustin holds his hand up, debating a wise choice. “I say we fight;” You look over at him and nod a little, “To the death.” You nod and smile throwing down your pencil, “To the death!” Mike and Erica agree and soon everyone has joined in chanting. Eddie starts laughing and lays back in his throne as you all slam your hands on the table shouting, Dustin leans back while yelling “TO THE DEATH!”

-

Erica rolls her D8 and D10 while you all lean closer in anticipation; soon your all shout “YES!” and grinning at the roll. 

Mike rolls his D20 and you all hiss and yell in agony when he fails.

Jeff’s turn ends up with Eddie smacking his character off the board.

-

Win to loss to loss again and again, and again as Eddie laughs maniacally at you all.

-

A timeout is called and as you huddle up gareth says, “Guys i hate to say this but we have got to flee.” Jeff nods and another says, “I concur.” (His name isn’t specified anywhere he literally is just called ‘freak’) 

Erica shakes her head, “Didn’t we literally just say ‘to the death’?” “That wasn’t literal!”

Jeff continues, “Vecna just decimated us, we can’t kill him with three players!” (we’re going to pretend your precious Helga survived) Dustin scoffs, “You too?! He only has 15hp left, don’t be pussies-!” Gareth makes a face, “Pussies, Really? Cause were not delusional?” He whisper yells. You slap a hand to your face to try and stop a laugh, “Gareth i swear to god-” “Delusional? How about not cowards.” 

“Hey.” Eddie shouts, “If i may interject gentlemen, ‘Lady applejack/Knight Hegla’. whilst i respect the passion, you’d be wise to take Gareth the greats concern to heart. There is no shame in running.. Don’t try to be heros, not today. Kay?” His grin widens. You look from Erica to Dustin as he raises a finger, “One second.” Back to your huddle, “What do you think mike?” “How many hp do you guys have left?” He asks, “Twelve.” You three say in unison, “It’s risky as hell, but your the ones on the battlefield. So it’s your call.” You try not to smile as Gareth's face contorts the hole time mike talks.

Dustin inhails, “What do you say girls?” Erica looks from you to Dustin, “Do you really gotta ask?” Dustin then looks at you, you smile and raise a brow. “Do you think i look like a bitch to back down from an ass whoopin?” Dustin takes a second, “Screw it.”

“Lets kill this son of a bitch.”

Jeff huffs and you all get closer to the table, “Chances of success are twenty to one!” Dustin points a finger, “Never tell me the odds.”

“Give me the D20.”

Eddie smirks and tosses him the dice.

Your all huddled around the table and Dustin as he rolls, eleven. You groan as Eddie waves his head up and down, “That’s a MISS.” You all hiss as you barely miss, it’s all up to Erica.

All eyes are on Erica as she rolls the D20, Gareth crying, Dustin shouting, You slamming your fist into your palm. Eddie leans closer to the dice, twenty! Your all shouting in victory. Eddie was yipping and jerking, his hands clapping while he smiled in surprise and also he’s just a proud DM.

-

You decided to stay back with Eddie to help clean the room after the campaign was over and everyone else went home. Eddie came over to you and grinned, “Helga’s still alive ay, you should be proud.” Your mouth hung open and your eyes widened as you punched his arm, “You fucker! It’s not my fault you love to kill us all off like daisies.” It’s true, this is the first campaign you’ve survived. You’ve been in hellfire just over three months. 

Eddie chuckled and nudged your shoulder, “I know i’m proud.”

You stopped picking up pieces and dice looking over at Eddie, blushing when you realise just how close he was to you. “You mean it?” He smiled stepping closer, “Of course, Its difficult to survive such..” Eddie started leaning in, to the point you could feel his hot breath against your face, “Difficult campaigns.” Your breath hitched when his lips almost touched, “Eddie?” You felt something warming up in your stomach, “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

His eyes widened as you put your lips on his. His lips felt so right connected to yours and you felt a moan building up as he deepened the kiss. Eddie groaned into you as you pressed your body up against his, “God your so beautiful,” you smiled, “I bet i’d look prettier naked on top of you.” 

He froze, “Are you okay Eds?” “Never been better.”

-

So here you are in his bed with butterfly sheets that he never bothered to get rid of, naked. 

Eddie kissed you on the lips savoring you, “Can i taste you baby? You look so good.” You moaned and nodded, “Please Eddie.” 

“Please what? I want to hear you beg.” 

You clenched your thighs together, “Please eat my pussy Eddie.” He grinned, “Of course, how could i refuse my good girl? Your going to be my good girl aren’t you?” He looked into your eyes sending shivers down your spine, “Of course Eds!” You nod your head, eager to be touched. He chuckles at your obedience and starts slowly kissing down your body, his touch like fire against your skin. It felt too good to be true. The boy that you’ve liked for years, is going to eat you out? You whined as his lips teased your thighs, he kissed everywhere but where you need the most. “Please Eddie.” He looked up at you from in-between your legs and you melted, this fine-ass man was willing to fuck you. Your whines soon turned into moans as he began to kiss and suck your clit. 

You slid your hands into his thick curls and arched your back, “Oh yes! Please!” You almost screamed and he dipped his tongue into your wet cunt, “Fuck Eddie!” He hums into your cunt, “Your pussy is fucking heaven baby.” The flick of his tongue driving you insane and the was his thumb rubs your clit makes you orgasm quicker than you’ve ever cum before. Legs shaking and eyes rolled back you squeal as he continues to eat your cunt like a dessert, “E-Eddie too mu-” He shuts you up with his two fingers sliding into your wet hole. 

Moans are the only noise you make, Eddie smiles into your cunt and keeps sucking and kissing your clit. You cry out and start clenching hard on his fingers, “Are you gonna cum for me again baby?” You can only answer with a whine. He laughs at your answer and starts pumping his fingers faster, hitting your sweet-spot every time. 

Your second orgasm wasn’t the same as the first, when you snapped a liquid starting spilling out of you in heaps. You hadn’t realised just what made Eddie so surprised and wet. “What?” You whine out, he doesn’t say anything for a solid five seconds and then he pounces on you, attacking your lips. “Please let me fuck you, f-fuck i don’t think my cock could take not fucking your pretty little pussy.” You widen your eyes and nod vigorously which makes Eddie smile, “Your so needy for my cock aren’t you?” You shake your head again, “Say it baby. Be my good girl and say you want my cock inside you.”

“Please put your cock inside my pussy Eddie. Oh please!” He groans at your eagerness to be spread open by him.

He starts to pull his cock out of his boxers and you almost cum on the spot, his dick was HUGE. Like pornstar big, at-least nine inches. His smile becomes wider when he notices your reaction, “Is it too big for you baby?” You frown and shake your head no, “N-no way! I can take it.”

“Good.”

Eddie rubs his tip on your clit and you squirm a little, but Eddie grabs your hips. “Be a good girl and stay still.”

When Eddie first pushes into you it burns, you hiss and he pulls you into him rubbing your back. “Are you okay baby?” He looks into your eyes trying to search for something, “I’m okay Eddie, just keep going. Don’t stop.” After the first couple thrusts it becomes completely crumbing, you feel like you could melt away into nothing. The way the Eddie whispers, “Taking my cock like such a good girl.”

He spreads your legs open wider and you moan loud into his ear, “Oh such a good girl, keep moaning. Let me know just how good i’m making you feel.”

You start getting closer with every thrust into your sopping cunt, and he can feel it. He starts to pound you faster and you scream, “That’s it, cum for me.” You shake and squirt all over his chest and dick, he groans and your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Can i cum inside you baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, “Please give me your cum, i need it!” 

He cums with a loud grunt and lays beside you, “I think i might love you.”

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 19

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.4K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

The peak of summer had hit. Humid days meant lots of time at the local pool and lake. You and Steve were enjoying every moment of the boys' break from school with them. Picnics in the woods, cookouts with friends, mini-golf, and trips to the zoo filled up your weekends. Evening bike rides had become part of your routine, often ending with ice cream cones or slushies from Scoops Ahoy. Nights spent chasing fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a fire. You and Steve had taken to enjoying evenings on the deck after the boys were in bed, glasses of wine in your hands.

Mid-July found everyone once again sitting around a large table at Sage and Salt, minus your parents, as you were all there for an entirely different reason this time.

“To Mike!” everyone cheered loudly, glasses clinking in celebration all around the table. 

Mike’s cheeks blazed bright red, his lips disappearing in embarrassment at everyone making a fuss over him. He’d told you last week that he finally got an offer for his book. The book he’d been working on for years was finally going to be published, he was getting a decent advance for a new author, had signed the contract just that afternoon, and everyone had insisted on going out to celebrate. 

“Thank you but this all feels a little…premature, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I got an offer and signed a contract but we have no idea how the book is going to do. Getting published doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people get published and their book just sits on a shelf collecting dust. It could still horribly flop.”

“It will not,” insisted El, looping her arm through his, a proud smile on her face. “You are going to do incredible. Michael Wheeler is going to be a household name.”

“Yeah, man. You could be the next Stephen King,” Lucas said. 

Dustin snorted, “Nobody’s the next Stephen King. Stephen King is the only Stephen King there is or ever will be. Besides, his books are in a totally different genre. You can’t even compare the two.”

Max rolled her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Dustin. Can you just say yeah and be happy for your friend?”

“I am happy for my friend but it would be more appropriate to compare him to Eddings or Brookes as his book would be of the fantasy genre and they are fantasy authors. Of course, those are big shoes to fill. If his books do even half as well as theirs I will be impressed.”

“Okay, we get it,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, this is a huge deal and I am sure your book is going to be great. Congratulations Mike.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re so proud of you,” Karen beamed, teary, reaching over the table to pinch his cheek as he grimaced and pulled back from his mom.

“It’s about time,” Tedd grumbled, taking a long drink of his beer. “Only been working on the damn thing for five years, letting his wife pick up the slack.” Karen elbowed him and he looked over at her, completely unaware of how rude he was being.

“Well,” Joyce added, “I think it’s great. I can’t wait to read it. I will be first in line to buy it the day it comes out.”

Mike smiled at her, “Thanks.” He glanced around the table at all of his friends. “And thanks to all of you. If you wouldn’t have pushed me so hard, I’d probably still be editing it over and over again, too scared to ever actually put it out into the world.”

Nancy ruffled his hair, “No problem, kid. We all knew you had it in you even if you didn’t.”

“It’s an amazing story,” Will told them. “Mike really did his research. It’s well planned out, the plot is gripping, the characters are amazing, and the world building is on point.”

Dustin’s mouth dropped open, his fork hitting the plate with a clang, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait. You’ve read it?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Mike wanted me to look it over to see what I thought. I actually helped him with some of the editing.”

“How come he got to read it?” demanded Dustin, offended. “You said we couldn’t read it until it was published and perfect?”

“It’s Will,” Mike stated as if that should be enough explanation. “I trust Will to be honest with me.”

“We’re honest,” Lucas scoffed. 

Max’s eyes rolled into her head, “Boys, boys…calm down. You all will have a chance to read it in a few months when it comes out. No need to bicker over who got to read it first. You’re all very important to Mike.”

“Speaking of people who are about to be famous, you will never guess who I saw at the record store today,” Robin said, turning to Steve as the boys continued to banter back and forth, her hand reaching across the table to grab a roll from the basket sitting in front of Steve.

“Who?” he asked.

“Eddie Munson.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, “For real?” 

Robin nodded with a grin like she’d just spilled the juiciest news ever but being that you had no idea who she was talking about, you just munched on your bread. It didn’t appear that June had any idea who it was either as her and you shared a look of confusion. Based on the look on Steve’s face, this was very big news indeed.

“But I thought he took off,” Steve continued. “After senior year…well, his third try at senior year, anyway. He said he was getting out of this hellhole and never looking back.”

“He did get out. Hasn’t lived here for years but he came back to help Wayne pack up the trailer. Apparently, his band just got a record deal with this big label in L.A. He said they’ve been playing in clubs for years and were just thinking of packing it in and giving it up when this big record executive came to one of their shows. Anyway, they gave him this huge advance and he bought a house out there and Wayne is going to move in with him.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve remarked, his hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin along the strap of your tank top. You had learned over the last few months that he was a very physical guy. Some part of him was almost always touching you and you weren’t complaining about it. “Good for him. You know, the way this town treated him, I always hoped he’d do well and show them all.”

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” June questioned just as you were about to ask it yourself.

“He’s this guy we went to school with. He’s Steve’s age but he had some struggles in school so he wound up graduating with my class. Honestly, I think he might have had ADD but of course they didn’t really talk about that back then. They’ve only really started talking about it in the last couple years. If you couldn’t keep your ass in the chair and learn like everyone else then you were just out of luck. Most of the teachers wrote him off as a lost cause so he lived up to it. He was sent out of the classroom so many times for being obnoxious or causing a disruption. But he was crazy talented at the guitar and he always had a book he was reading. People called him dumb but I never thought he was. Annoying, absolutely, but not dumb. I think he just couldn’t get it the way they were teaching it and no one took the time to figure out how to teach him.”

Steve shrugged, “He had it hard here. The town treated him like trash because his dad was trash. His old man went to prison for selling hot car parts and his mom took off when he was just a toddler. He wound up living with his Uncle Wayne when he was in middle school. Wayne had a trailer in Forest Hills. So on top of being a felon’s kid, on top of having trouble at school, he also lived in a trailer. It was the trifecta of judgement for the people in this town. Everyone always said he was up to no good and he was going to turn out just like his father.”

“You know,” Robin mused, tearing off little bits of her roll and stuffing them in her mouth, “one time some of the cheerleaders were being mean to me. Not that it wasn’t something that happened all the time.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was a band geek so the jocks and the popular kids loved to give us shit. Anyway, they took my trumpet and were playing keepaway. Eddie stepped right in and swiped it from them, depositing it in my hands with a flourish and a bow before strolling off down the hallway. I always kind of admired him. He never let those asshats get him down. He just was who he was and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him.”

“I don’t know,” countered Steve. “I think everyone cares what other people think of them. I just think some of us are better at pretending like we don’t. I think that obnoxious, boisterous exterior was a shield he put up to protect himself once he realized he was never going to be accepted by this place. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter than to allow himself to be vulnerable to the mockery. Dustin sure loved the guy though.”

“Loved who?” asked Dustin, catching the sound of his name.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve answered.

“Hell yeah I did. All of us did.” He gestured down the table to the other boys. “He was a Dungeons and Dragons Master. He was the head of our D&D club, Hellfire, and we all joined our freshman year of high school. Me, Lucas, Mike, and Will were never what you’d call…popular. Lucas was a bit once he started playing basketball and helped them win the championship game. But Eddie, man, he just accepted us from the first day. He gave us a place to belong. We were happy to be one of his sheep.”

Steve snorted, “It was like a damn cult. He referred to them as his sheep like he was a shepherd leading the flock. All four boys loved him but Dustin freaking worshiped the ground he walked on.”

“He passed the reins onto Dustin when he finally graduated, appointing him Dungeon Master,” Robin said, pausing to thank the waitress as she brought their food. “But he was heartbroken when he found out Eddie was going to completely skip town.”

“He was my friend. Hell, he was more like a brother, and he was a hell of a Dungeon master. I tried to fill his shoes but nobody really could,” Dustin stated. “I’ve been out there to visit him a few times, actually. He’s in town right now. Did you know that?”

“That’s what I was just telling him, doofus,” Robin said. Dustin stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

“And were you close to Eddie?” you asked Steve.

“Me? No. Not so much. Eddie and I…we didn’t have a lot in common. He was a metalhead who loved to play nerd games. I was an athlete who would rather do just about anything than Dungeons and Dragons. But I never had an issue with him like some people. I always thought he was a pretty good guy. Henderson’s a good judge of character. If he says you’re solid, you probably are. My few interactions with him were alright.”

One of Robin’s eyebrows lifted, her elbow dropping to the table as she leaned forward, “Oh please! You hated that Dustin and him were so close.”

“Yeah he did! He didn’t like that I had another older male friend. He wanted to be the only one.”

Steve’s lips came together, making a noise of disbelief, “Okay, one, gross. And please. Like I cared who you spent your time with. I was just relieved you weren’t constantly following me around anymore.”

Robin turned to you, “Don’t let him fool you. He was so jealous that Dustin was spending more time with Eddie. He got used to being the only one that the kid hero worshipped.”

“Aww,” you teased, poking him in the side, giggling when he jumped. “You didn’t like having to share your little brother?”

His eyes narrowed, “Please. Like I cared who Dustin Henderson hung out with.”

“Oh, he did,” Dustin shot back. “He can act like he didn’t want me around but he’d be lying. Steve loves me.”

“Okay, anyway, onto another topic please,” Steve begged, popping a fry into his mouth as the other guys caught wind of the conversation and started asking Dustin about Eddie. 

“Alright, how about we talk about how my amazing girlfriend had some brilliant ideas about how to get more business into the coffee shop?” June offered, her hand covering Robin’s. “I was telling her how weekday evenings can be pretty dead and I wasn’t sure if I should start closing early and she had some amazing suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You leaned forward, arms folded on top of the table. You smiled at how red Robin’s cheeks flared at June’s compliment. “What amazing suggestions did you have?”

Robin shook her head, fingers tearing little pieces of her napkin nervously. “It wasn’t really anything spectacular…”

“Yes it was!” June huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s just being modest. She mentioned starting a book club night. We could have specials to lure them in. I mean, what goes better with a conversation about a good book than a cup of coffee and yummy sweets?”

“Oh, I think that’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, bringing your straw to your lips for a sip of Coke. “We don’t really have anywhere in town that does book clubs. I think you’d get a lot of people interested. You could even make a special dessert to go with the book they’re reading.”

June’s eyes lit up. “I love that idea! Like I could make something with orange marmalade for Bridget Jones's Diary. We think that might be the first pick. I could even come up with some fun drinks to go with it. Maybe instead of coffee, have a fun tea beverage.”

“Yes! I’m totally in for the book club.”

“Oh, did I hear you say you’re starting a book club at the cafe?” asked Nancy, making her way down the table to join them. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Robin asked. “I mean, you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I told you babe,” June sighed, “it’s an amazing idea. We’re thinking about Tuesday nights. We’ll feature one book a month. I’m partnering with Terry, who owns the bookstore. He said he’ll make sure to order extra of whatever we pick so people can buy it directly from him instead of having to drive into the city to find it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a win-win for both of us, you know?”

“I also mentioned a live music night and maybe a poetry night where people could come in and perform,” Robin added, posture straightening as her confidence built seeing that everyone thought it was a good idea. “That’s why I was in the record store today. I was talking to Tom about the local bands he knew of. We want to get the word out but we need to know where to find the people to give the word.”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking of waiting on the live music for a couple months. I want to make sure we have the book club thing down before I try adding in anything else. If that all goes well, then maybe in a couple more months we can phase in poetry night.”

“The Hideout would probably be the best place to find bands,” Jonathan offered as he headed down to join them as well, his arm slipping around Nancy’s waist. “I mean, that’s where Corroded Coffin always played.”

Robin nodded, “I know but we want to host a variety of music. I think The Hideout is pretty heavy stuff. Not that we don’t want that too but it would be nice to do a variety to get more people in.”

Steve snorted, “Yeah. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of screaming. Makes my ears want to bleed.”

“You know, Matt works with a guy who’s in a band. They play more acoustic stuff. I could talk to him and see if his friend would want to play at your shop,” you told them. 

“That would be great. Like I said, it wouldn't be for a couple months. Probably not until the end of summer but I wouldn’t mind lining up some talent so we have a schedule and are ready to go when it’s time. Plus that would give us some time to figure out logistics.”

“If you’re looking for something Monday through Friday, you could always eventually add a local artisan night too. People who make things could have small displays in your shop and in front of it. From my experience, people love that kind of stuff,” Nancy said. “There’s just something so gratifying about finding that unique something special that you can’t find anywhere else because it’s not mass marketed. You know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, either,” June agreed. “And I love getting to support artists and small business owners. Especially given that I am one.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Eli stayed over tonight?” asked Nancy, turning to you. “Jere has been bugging me all day since we were all going to be here together. We rented Space Jam and he refuses to watch it without Eli.”

Steve glanced over at you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at the thought of the two of you having a night alone. You weren’t used to having Eli gone as much as he was these days. He usually wound up hanging out with one of the gang or having a sleepover at least once a week but you’d learned to appreciate any time you could have alone with Steve.

“Yeah. Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love that.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you glanced down the table, watching as the boys took turns shooting straw wrappers at Dustin and Lucas, a skill that Hopper was apparently teaching them. The man was like an over-sized child sometimes.

“Thanks. We’ll bring them both back around lunchtime tomorrow if that’s good for you,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy sharing a smile. “Give you some morning time too, you know, if you need a little extra.”

A couple hours later found you strolling next to June as Steve and Robin argued ahead of you. Everyone had headed home and the four of you decided to walk off some of your food first. You were only able to catch a word here or there of Steve and Robin’s conversation and had no idea what they were arguing about. But considering it sounded playful, you weren't worried. If there was such a thing as platonic soulmates, those two were it. They bickered like siblings but their love for each other knew no bounds. That was obvious to anyone who witnessed their interactions for even a few minutes. 

“So, it seems pretty serious with you and Robin,” you observed, hooking your arm through June’s as you walked along the main street. 

A smile like a crescent moon curved the raven-haired beauty’s lips, “It is, I think. I’ve been crushing on her for months. I didn’t think she’d ever get the nerve to say anything. I mean, honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked me for a while. The girl never made eye contact with me. I knew she was into girls but I just figured maybe I wasn’t her type and she didn't want me to get the wrong impression or something.”

“Oh, she liked you,” you laughed, pausing to look in the window of the general store. Eli had been begging you for the Batcave playset that had come out a couple weeks ago. With his birthday coming up next month, you were going to need to stop in and get it. If you waited too long, it might not be there and you’d never hear the end of it. “She liked you a lot. I just think she was scared to say anything.”

“Obviously. But she’s…I mean, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so kind and thoughtful. I love the way she rambles when she’s nervous. It’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And those little freckles…I just want to kiss each one.” She giggled. “I often do, actually. It’s only been a few weeks but somehow I just know. I know this is going to be something amazing. I know it’s going to last, you know?”

You curved your lower lip in, nodding as your eyes instantly moved to Steve, “I do know.”

“You sure seem to. You and Steve are the freaking cutest. Anyone watching you two can see it’s something special.”

It was special. It was everything. It was more than you could have ever imagined you’d get in life. After losing it all, you’d never expected to find something this magical again, someone this amazing. You knew exactly what June meant because you just knew. You knew that Steve was it for her. You knew six months from now, six years from now, sixty years from now, the universe willing, that he would still be by your side and you would still be just as deliriously happy. 

Robin shoved Steve, his hand coming to her face and shoving her back, both of them laughing. You watched the exchange with amusement. You already loved both of them so much. They had seamlessly been sewn into the fabric that was your life. What girl not only got to have the perfect guy but also the amazing people who came along with him? Sometimes it felt like too much, like you couldn’t possibly deserve this much. 

“Are you two talking about us back there?” Robin questioned, walking backwards ahead of them. 

“Only good things,” June promised.

“My girl's not complaining about how I don’t hang up my towel after a shower?” Steve asked, spinning around to face them. “Or how I leave little hairs in her sink when I shave? Or how she trips over my shoes because I don’t put them by the door where they belong?”

“I can accept all of those things if you can accept how I hog all the blankets at night,” you replied. “Or how I take showers so hot you feel like your skin is melting off. Or how I always take the last of the coffee and don’t make another pot.”

Steve stopped walking, waiting until you were right in front of him. His arms wrapped around you, hand locking at the small of your back, a gentle kiss pressed against your lips. Those lips, so damn soft. The man always had a ChapStick in his pocket. You knew because you’d run it through the washing machine more than once. 

“I can accept every single one of those as long as it means I get to have you,” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your nose. 

“Did we just watch them exchange vows?” teased June. “Because those sure sounded like vows.”

“Seriously, when are you two just going to bite the bullet and move in together?” asked Robin. 

Steve’s eyes went wide, zeroing in on you, examining you and you knew why. He was waiting. Waiting for you to sink into the dark abyss of an attack the way you had the last time moving in together had been brought up. You hated the way his body tensed, readying himself to try to pull you out of it. You hated that he assumed you would fall apart at the mention of the future with him. 

Because you weren't. You weren't panicking. The two of you spent more nights together than not these days. You had toothbrushes at each other’s places. You had a drawer with a spare change of clothes for those last minute decisions to stay over. He had a thermos in your cupboard for his coffee for work when he woke up at your place. 

“Robin, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” Steve urged, darting a warning glance at his friend. “We’re taking things slow.”

Robin guffawed, her head thrown back with loud laughter, “Moving slowly? You sleep at each other’s houses every single night.”

“Not every night,” Steve argued.

“Practically,” she stated. “You already act like a married couple. Aly packs your lunches for work for crying out loud.”

You shrugged, “I mean, I’m already packing Eli’s and mine so I just…”

“I don’t care that you pack his lunch. But if you’re packing lunches, taking turns picking up the kids from school, and sleeping next to each other every single night, what’s the difference if you just go from two houses to one?”

“She’s not wrong,” June agreed. “You’re basically living together in two different spaces. Just sell one. It’s definitely more economically logical. You’d only have one house payment.”

“And if you sell one, you’d have a decent chunk of change. You could use it for…oh, I don’t know…a wedding?” Robin’s eyebrows wiggled tauntingly. 

“We haven’t…I mean…we’ve talked but not…” you stammered. 

Steve’s hands found yours in an attempt to ground you. Oddly, you didn’t need it. This talk about weddings and living together, talk that used to make your heart run a marathon, that used to suck the air right out of your lungs, wasn’t doing anything. You just didn’t know how to respond. After the hospital incident, you hadn’t really discussed it anymore.

It wasn’t like it wasn’t there, a thought that kept jabbing at your brain every now and then. But you’d been happily just going along the way you were. If he had Jere, you would stay at his place so Jere could have his things. If he didn’t, they stayed at your place. Miles had even gotten comfortable at both houses. The dog was at home at your place, leaving dark hairs everywhere that you could never seem to fully vacuum away. Somehow you always went to work covered in him but you didn’t mind.

But did Steve want to take that step? He’d told you that he hadn’t meant it when he said he liked his space. But the man had been living on his own for a while. He didn’t have to be attached to a child seven days a week. If you moved in together, he would have Eli around all the time. Maybe he wanted to be able to head back to his own place, his sanctuary of peace and solitude. 

“Okay Robin. Your suggestions and opinions are duly noted,” Steve said, putting an end to the discussion. “Thanks for the input.”

Robin shrugged, grinning, “Just wanted to get my two cents out there. Voice the idea into the world. Because we both know you two will never do it if left to your own devices.”

____________________________________________________________

Steve stroked your hair as you lay with your head on his chest, the two of you relaxed back on a blanket. A cool breeze tickled his skin, crickets creating a soundtrack for your evening as you enjoyed a moment of quiet together in his backyard. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, the half moon providing what little bit of light you had. 

He felt completely at ease with you right here where you belonged, cocooned in his arms, your hearts beating rhythmically against one another, sharing each other’s warmth to ward off the chill of the early summer evening. 

He’d been expecting you to go into a full blown anxiety attack earlier when Robin started talking about moving in together. He’d expected another call to 911 when you'd mentioned marriage. But he’d never been so glad to be wrong. You had taken it in stride. You'd stammered a bit, looked a little nervous, but you hadn’t lost control. It was a small step in the right direction.

Steve hadn’t broached the subject of living together since that night when he almost ruined everything. You were spending most nights and mornings together as it was. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t think it would ever be enough but you seemed to be okay with it and so it was what he would make himself okay with for now. He’d made a silent vow not to push you anymore and he’d stuck to it, waiting for you to let him know when you were ready for the next step. 

Had he wondered if you never would be? Of course he had. With your past, your struggles with anxiety, it concerned him that this could be what your relationship looked like forever. You frozen in place, terrified to move even an inch in a forward direction. Him never saying anything for fear of pushing you away. The two of you at a standstill, your relationship never evolving, never changing past two people who dated and stayed over at each other’s places. 

Steve had thought you'd fallen asleep until you said softly, “Maybe Robin has a point.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, pulling himself from his thoughts. 

You lifted your head, placing both hands over his heart before resting your chin on the backs of them. You took his breath away. Every time you looked at him it was like he had forgotten just how beautiful you were and he was stunned all over again. Every damn time. His fingers slid a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I said maybe Robin has a point,” you repeated, turning your face into his touch, your lips pressing a kiss to the center of his palm. 

Steve snorted, “Robin’s never right about anything.” At the look you gave him, he relented. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, she has some great ideas about June’s cafe. I think those things will really help bring in the business. We’ve yet to see but maybe she does have a point.”

“Steve, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. You couldn’t be saying what he thought you were saying, right? No. That was just him getting his hopes up far too high. It had only been a little over a month since that night in the hospital. There was no way you were going from barely able to breathe at the idea to suddenly saying you should move in together.

He swallowed, trying to rein in the desire that was raging in him for you to open your mouth and say those words. Because if you didn’t, the disappointment would come crashing down on him like an avalanche, his heart crushed under the weight of hundreds of tons of rock and rejection. 

“So, what are you talking about?” he asked, attempting to keep the hope he was feeling out of his voice. 

Your head tilted, your mouth curving into a gentle smile, “I mean, we are practically living together as it is. We’re just doing it in two different spaces. It does seem kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, barely trusting himself to reply with more than that. He wanted to grab onto you, pull you into him, kiss you breathless, and beg you to move in together. To choose a place. He didn’t care which. If you wanted to keep your place, that was fine with him. He just wanted you to be in his life, all of it, every day for forever.

“I understand if you’re not ready. I know you’ve probably gotten used to having your own space. I’m sure it’s nice to come home to a quiet house on the days when Jeremiah is with Nancy and Jonathan. So, I’m not pressuring you or anything. I’m just saying maybe it’s something to think about?”

He nodded. Emotion was clogging his throat. He knew he needed to say something. He needed to respond to you but he couldn’t seem to get sound past the lump in his esophagus. 

You blinked quickly, burying your head against his chest again as you muttered softly, “Anyway, just a thought. No big deal. I wasn’t saying we have to do it now.”

Jesus Christ, he chastised himself. Open your mouth. Say something. His arms wound around you tighter. Those beautiful eyes, eyes he hoped he was lucky enough to look into for the rest of his life, opened wide. He traced the back of his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. 

“Move in with me,” he urged. “Or I’ll move in with you. I don’t care. But let’s move in together.”

Those perfectly pink lips arced up on both sides, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Invade all of my space. I told you, I don’t want space. I don’t want quiet. I don’t want alone. I just want you. You and Eli and Jeremiah. I want you to fill up all the space until there’s none left.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said. “I know I want you forever. I know you’re it for me. I don’t need to wait and see. I don’t need time to figure anything out. I’ve known from the moment I saw your face that you were going to be something special in my life. And you are. I want you and everything that comes with you.” He cradled your face in his palms. “I want this face to be the first thing and the last thing I see every day.”

Tears sparkled in your eyes under the light of the moon. “Me too. Maybe it’s quick but I don’t care. I thought I needed to move slowly. I thought I would need time to know if this was right but I don’t. I feel it, so deeply in my bones. You’re right. This is right. I was worried about Eli but I don’t have to be because I am certain. I love you and so does he. It won’t matter if we decide today or six months from now. I will be completely certain it’s you.”

“So, your place or mine?” he asked. 

“I…” You paused, inhaling sharply. 

“It’s okay if you want to keep your house, honey. My house is just a house. Your house holds a lot of memories for you. I know that. I truly don’t care where I live as long as you and the boys are there.”

“No. I mean…I don’t think I want to keep the house. That house is full of memories but they’re memories from a different life. I want to start fresh. I want to build new memories with you. I don’t need the house to remember. Those memories will always be with me but I’m tired of living with a ghost and that’s what it feels like there. I mean, I should probably talk to Eli about it and see how he feels. But what would you think about buying a new house? Something we choose together? Something where we can create our own history and stories?”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

And it did. A whole new space where you could choose things together. You could slowly make it your own. A house that you would turn into a home by filling it with love and a shared history. A place where you could raise your boys together and then a space for just the two of you when the boys were grown and out creating their own futures. Four walls that would contain all the memories of your years, the happy and the sad, that you would look back on years down the road. 

“I love you,” you whispered, beaming from ear to ear. 

“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”

You pushed yourself up, resting both knees on either side of his hips, straddling him under the stars in his backyard. Miles lifted his head from where he lay observing on the deck and Steve raised his hand, his command for stay. The dog released a heavy sigh but dropped his big head back down on his paws. 

“You are everything I never thought I could have.” Whispered words as your mouth, hot and sweet, covered his, your tongue teasing, flicking and brushing over his lips, teeth, and tongue. “You are a damn dream, Steve Harrington and I hope I never wake up.”

Your words, transmitted on your breath from your mouth to his, traveled throughout, spreading, inhabiting every single space. His hands ran over your body, grabbing and squeezing, as he made a vow to himself to keep you feeling like that. To ensure you never woke up, never looked around and doubted your choice right here on this blanket, never was disappointed to find the dream wasn’t your reality. 

You ground your hips over him and hissed at the feel of rock hard denim pressing over your clit. One hand slid up your shirt, taking your breast in his palm, while the other slid underneath your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. You rocked harder against him, whimpering when he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth between kisses. 

Steve sunk into your mouth, taking the kiss even deeper, his tongue exploring, gliding and dancing over yours. His hand on your ass grabbed onto the lacy fabric covering your hip, his fingers wrapping around it, wanting to tear it off of you and bury himself to the hilt right now. 

“Should we…?” you tried but gasped when he pinched your nipple, rolling the pert little bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Should we go inside?”

“No, honey…can’t wait…wanna fuck you right here…under the stars…” he mumbled against your skin, sucking and nibbling a path up your neck to your chin. “Wanna have you under me…take you in the moonlight…” 

A squeak escaped you when his arms came around your waist, flipping you to your back beneath him. His fists came down on either side of your head, taking in the sight of your wide eyes, parted lips, flushed skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, his lips crashing down over yours again as your fingers dove into his hair, your legs locking around his waist as your heat sought out the friction of him again. 

“But neighbors,” you protested weakly when his fingers wrapped around the edge of your panties, yanking them down and away, tossing them carelessly somewhere in the yard. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see,” he assured you, his lips traveling down your body, lifting your shirt to press open mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your stomach. “Maybe Miles, but he won’t tell anybody. He’s good at keeping secrets.”

You giggled at that, the sound filling his ears, delighting his senses. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world, maybe his most favorite. It was a sound he wanted to cause you to make every single day but it’s not the sound he wanted right now. 

Sliding down the blanket, he slipped his head under your skirt, taking your pussy in his mouth, and that’s when he got the sound he wanted. You choked out his name when he sucked on your clit like a throat lozenge. You writhed, whimpered, when he licked you from top to bottom, swirling his tongue over you teasingly. 

The taste of you made him feel drunk, his head fuzzy in that delicious way when the world just goes soft. He wrapped his arms around each of your thighs, holding you in place, as he feasted on you. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, as he flicked his tongue over your clit. 

“Jesus, Steve,” you groaned, your hips rocking against his face, seeking sweet release. 

Fuck, he would never get enough of you. Your taste. Your scent. Your sounds. The way you felt. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs happily and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

You were panting softly above him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your thighs trembled around his head and he knew you were close to coming undone. Steve wrapped his mouth around your clit and your entire body froze as you cried out his name loudly. He gently lapped at your sweet center, not stopping until he felt you relax beneath him. 

“Steve…” Your voice was raspy with lust, your fingers threading through his hair, leading him up your body. He stared down at you, the way your skin glistened under the faint light of the moon, your eyes heavy, your lips curled in a satisfied smile. “I think the neighbors might have heard me.”

He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, “Let them. Then they all know you’re mine.”

“I am, you know? Yours. Just yours,” you whispered, bringing his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply. 

Those words did something to him, scratching an itch in his brain he hadn’t even known was there before this woman came into his life. Steve worked at his belt, undoing his jeans and kicking them down his legs, needing to be inside of you. 

Nestling himself between your legs, he took his cock in his hand, sliding the tip over your clit and through your folds, teasing. You moaned, low and deep, your eyes fluttering as he slipped just the tip in before bringing it back out to run through your slick tauntingly. Your feet slid over his calves, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails running over the skin of his back. 

“Steve…stop teasing…” you pleaded. 

“Lift up your shirt for me, honey,” Steve told her. “I want to see all of you while I fuck you.”

You obeyed, tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you lying beneath him in nothing but your little black skirt and a scrap of lacy pink fabric that was so sheer he could see your nipples, dark pink and hard. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hand grabbing onto your hip as he thrust inside of you, burying himself in your heat. 

“Oh fuck, yes…Steve…” you groaned, your nails digging into his flesh. 

Jesus, you felt so damn good. He thrust again, sinking even deeper into you if that was possible, both of you moaning. Your legs locked around him, your bodies melding together until he could barely pull out. His hips rocked into you, small movements that kept him sheathed the whole time, his cock dragging over your walls. 

“I love you…Jesus Christ, honey…I love you…so fucking good…you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, rutting against you, chasing his own high as he felt you already starting to tremble beneath him again. 

“Love…you…” you panted, fingers gripping his shoulders, your mouth catching his for a moment before you broke off, head dropping back. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…oh god…Steve…right there…I’m gonna…”

His head fell back, riding it out as your pussy clenched down around him, clinging to him as you rode out the wave. He was almost hyperventilating as he thrust into you hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, his eyes squeezing shut as his own orgasm crashed down over him with force, spilling into you. 

His cock throbbed within you as your pussy pulsed around him. He dropped down, his elbows on either side of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks. You looked like a fucking vision glowing and flushed in the subtle light of the moon above them. Your hand came to his cheek, smiling up at him, looking as satisfied as he does after he’s power washed every damn thing outside of his house. 

“You’re mine, huh? Just mine?” he teased with a smirk, thumb coasting over the curve of your cheekbone. 

You turned into his touch, pulling the tip of his thumb between your lips, “For as long as you want me to be.”

“Careful what you wish for, honey because that’s a long time. I’m thinking forever.”

“Works for me,” you beamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours. 

Chapter 20

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️ Only one more chapter to go and then this story will come to an end.

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 01

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf (let me know if you wish to be tagged)

Mike sat in the passenger seat of Leff's 1970 Chrysler Newport which he treated like the child he always wanted. He was pissed to have been dragged out of bed so early to sit in the Train station parking lot. He had no idea who they were picking up or why he had to be with him but he was annoyed and tired.

"You're gonna need to get in the backseat." Leff said without looking at him.

"The fuck for?" Mike looked over at Leff who narrowed his eyes at him.

"Because I'd rather not watch Y/n embarrass you this early in the morning." He explained. Mike knew very little about this person they were picking up. He knew that they worked for Leff and just returned from doing an import run.

"He can sit in the backseat just fine." Mike laughed but when he felt Leff's gaze on him, he looked over at him.

"Are you fucking serious? I'm already comfortable, why do I have to move just because of them?" Mike whined.

"You sound like a fucking child." Leff groaned.

"You treat me like a fucking child." Mike argued. Leff rolled his eyes and continued to puff on a cigarette watching for this person to make their appearance.

"What's so special about this guy? I mean you made me take a fucking Uber from the airport when I got here but we're picking this guy up at the train station?" Mike asked curiously.

"Y/n works harder than you ever thought about working." Leff kept his eyes on the platform and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Y/n isn't a guy either so be respectful. Did your mother teach you any fucking manners?" Leff asked with frustration. Mike let out a laugh.

"So what? You fucking her?" Mike asked with his eyebrow up. Leff gave him a death glare before Mike put his hands up and got in the back seat mumbling about never getting any respect.

"Okay so this chick...what does she do exactly? I mean is she like Sicky? Is she like me, a runner?" Leff snorted.

"A runner? That's what you call yourself? She's not like either of you because she doesn't need a fucking job title to earn money." Leff explained.

"She's also off limits so don't even think about being cute with her, she'll cut your dick off before I even get a chance to slap you around for being an idiot." Leff pointed at him in the rearview with a warning.

"So you are fucking her?" Mike pressed and Leff swatted at him but he put his hands up.

"Jesus Christ! I'm just curious. What's her deal? Why am I not allowed to even ask about her?" Mike was getting irritated with how uptight Leff was being.

"She used to work for a nightclub that one of my competition works out of. I was fucking a few of her coworkers but she had reached out to me about your mom once." Mike's attention was piqued.

"What do you mean?" Mike pressed.

"When your mom was trying to get her fix, she would go to places like that and try and score. Y/n kept an eye on her for me but her boss wasn't too happy about it...tried to have her dealt with." Leff explained.

"But she works for you now? How did that pan out?" Mike was confused.

"Technically I paid a fee to take her out of the night club. The club boss didn't care, my competition still tries to make moves to bring her back into the fold over there." Leff shook his head.

"How can you trust someone who worked for the competition?" Mike asked and caught Leff's gaze in the mirror again.

"She got her ass nearly cut into pieces for getting your mom out of a deal gone wrong. I saved her life, got her out of that assholes crew. She doesn't have to suck dick or get her ass beat over here. She's worked her ass off and has never said no to a tough task. She's the best worker I got." Leff wanted Mike to know the situation with Y/n and how important she was to his team. She was a trustworthy person and had even known his mom. Mike really wanted to ask her about his mom but he knew Leff would probably shut that down.

It was still something that was too hard to talk about.

"There she is. Keep your dumbass comments to yourself or I'll kick your ass." Leff popped the trunk as she approached and she tossed two large duffels into the trunk before climbing into the car. Mike was surprised she was so attractive. He knew she once worked at a nightclub but she had naturally beautiful features.

"Who's Brokeback Mountain?" Y/n tossed her thumb to the backseat.

"Oh fuck off." Mike groaned in annoyance.

"That's my nephew, Mike. He's apart of the team now." Leff started to drive and Y/n turned back to look at him.

"Is this a permanent look or are you going through a phase of sorts where you like to suck dick?" Y/n asked with a smirk.

"You're one to talk with lips like that. Are you going for New York homeless or DC prostitute?" Mike fought back.

"Mike!" Leff growled but Y/n laughed.

"Oh he's going to be fun. I like him already." She turned in the seat and extended her hand.

"Y/n, I will absolutely be ripping you to shreds verbally on the daily." She smiled brightly and Mike felt a little part of him melt a little before taking her hand and shaking it.

"Mike and I look forward to going toe to toe with you any day sweetheart." He shook her hand and she flicked his cowboy hat.

"So does the hat get you any pussy?" Y/n asked curiously and Mike smirked.

"Why? You want to get in line?" He teased making Y/n laugh.

"This one is going to be trouble, you know that right?" She looked over at Leff who glared at her.

"Don't encourage is dumbass behavior. It will get him killed." Leff gritted.

"He'll be okay. You know Sicky and I will take good care of him." She tried to reassure and Mike was curious as to the touch she gave Leff's shoulder. Maybe she was into Leff? He needed to talk to her and get her story before he let himself get too interested in her.

"So you knew my mom?" Mike asked abruptly and the care grew silent. She looked over her shoulder and nodded at him.

"I did. She talked about you a lot....I'm sorry how things ended." Y/n looked at him with remorse and he wasn't expecting her to look so effected by the mention of her. He made a note to ask her about what she knew when Leff wasn't around.

"Are we done making friendship bracelets and braiding each others hair" Leff asked breaking up the silence.

"Don't' be jealous Leff. We can get you a cowboy hat if you want." She openly teased Leff and her glared at her. There was so much about her Mike wanted to know.

[aprilclementine]

part 3 of history teacher steve and art teacher eddie

part 1 / part 2

There was already enough to worry about your freshman year of high school. Dustin was just happy he had a good group of friend to be by his side through it all. Plus, his best friend Mike’s sister was going to be their English teacher, Lucas assured Dustin it would be a walk in the park. They were so wrong.

"Mike your sister is seriously scarier than I remember from before she went to college." Dustin huffed, throwing his backpack on the couch in the Wheeler basement.

"Seriously, Mike! It's the first day and we already have homework due by the end of the week!" Lucas exclaimed, rummaging around his bag for the sheet that contained the details to the homework. Max and Jane coming down the stairs not too long after, clearing off the coffee table, to start on their work.

Mike rolled his eyes at their exasperations, looking to Will for some leveling. Will sighed, shrugging. "I got to say I'm with them on this one, I thought she would take it easier on us. I mean she babysat us for the the entirety of elementary school, and like half of middle school."

Mike groaned, and Dustin jumped in. "That's it! That's exactly it! This is payback for all the times we were shitheads!"

"Jesus H. Christ, I have to buy like a lifetime supply of apples to make up for all the shit we did!" Lucas rubbed his hands over his face.

"You dickheads need to stop being so dramatic its literally just a 'What I Did This Summer' essay." Max finally chimed in, Jane nodding along beside her.

"Homework is still homework, Mayfield." Dustin snarked back.

"And, she's the only teacher that gave us homework." Lucas added, matter o' factly. "Not even Will and Janes brother gave us homework!"

"Well, it's probably because he didn't have to deal with us as much." Will supplied, trying to defend the other Wheeler.

"Pota-toe, Po-tato." Dustin huffed, opening his notebook to a blank page to start the essay. "Speaking of teachers, did Argyle let you guys hold his class pet? The bearded dragon, what was it's name Lucas? Wasn't it like a vegetable, or something?"

"It was pineapple!" Lucas supplied, moving to sit next to Max, using his phone to try and take a picture of what she already had written on her paper.

"The art teacher that got up on the desk was actually kind of entertaining." Will added.

"His hair was too long." Mike added, grabbing a Rubik's cube off the counter before he sat down.

"I liked his hair." Will smiled, "I think he's gonna be a good teacher, I'm glad I convinced you guys to join."

"I can grow my hair longer, and better than he can." Mike grumbled from the floor beside Will.

"I liked Mr.H's hair better." Jane added quietly.

"Oooohhh, yeah, I totally agree, Jane!" Max nudged her, as the two whispered something else to each other.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "Alright, his hair was decent, at best."

"Someone's peanut butter and jealous." Dustin mumbled under his breath, narrowly dodging the figurine Lucas chucked at him.

"I have a feeling he'll be giving us a lot of homework too." Mike added.

"Eh, I know he seems the type, but maybe he'll go easier on us, 'cause we're freshmen." Lucas shrugged, Will hummed in agreement.

The group worked diligently until dinner time, parting ways, with a majority of their essays close to being done.

-

The next week, Dustin waved down Lucas and Max as he locked his bike into the rack, waiting patiently by the front doors.

"Is that a- Weird Al shirt?" Max asked as they approached. Lucas stifled his laugh behind his hand.

"Yes, his biopic is coming out soon! The one starring Daniel Radcliffe! Also, don’t be jealous, because I actually have taste, Mayfield." Dustin huffed, as he turned to walk into the school.

"If that what you'd like to call it, sure." Max grinned, as they followed Dustin to their first period.

"Weird taste, I'd say. Get it, Max? Because, it's Weird A-" Lucas nudged at Max's side.

"Yes, Lucas, very funny." Max snarked, as she set her bag down by her desk.

The party shared first period together, which was English. Then, half of them went to Math with Mr.Byers, and the other half went to Argyle, for science. Then vice versa. They then shared art together, then lunch, after that half of them went to PE, and the other half went to band. For their final class of the day they shared history.

Dustin watched Mike almost doze off in first period, and quickly kicked his seat, so his sister wouldn't give him a weeks worth of detention, in only their second week of school. 

The group walked out of first period, grumbling about another assignment, parting ways down the hall. Max, Lucas, and Dustin had Argyle, and Mike, Will and Jane had Mr.Byers.

The groups passed each other in the halls, Lucas quickly repeating to Will what the lesson was about, and Mike doing the same for Dustin.

They regrouped in Mr.Munson’s class for Art. Aprons were placed on each seat, and Mr.Munson was setting out fabric paint, and markers in the middle of each table as everyone walked in. Everyone filed to their seats as soon as the bell rang, Mr.Munson stood before the class, explaining that this period they'd be decorating their aprons for the year. "Put whatever you want, be fun, be creative, but "make it school appropriate"." Mr.Munson rolled his eyes, as he used air quotes, and a mocking tone for the last sentence. He took a deep breath, before bringing his hand up to his mouth, leaning in closer to the class for a stage whisper. "Or, don't, I'll pretend I didn't see it." Mr.Munson clapped to dismiss the class, and then moved behind his desk to work on some sketches.

Dustin walked up to Mr.Munson’s desk about halfway through class. He cleared his throat to get the mans attention. Mr.Munson looked up, eyes scanning over Dustin’s face, then landing on his shirt. "Is that a Weird Al shirt?"

Dustin nodded wordlessly, ready to defend himself.

"That's bold, I respect it." Eddie nodded as he spoke, looking back at Dustin now, who was beaming at the comment. "How can I help ya, kid?"

"I was wondering if you had anymore puffy paint." Dustin asked, handing Mr.Munson the empty bottle. Mr.Munson nodded, as he grabbed his keys, and moved into the storage room. Dustin heard him rummaging around, before he came back out with a new bottle of yellow puffy paint, handing it off to Dustin, sending him back to his desk to work.

Dustin took a step back, watching curiously from the slight opening, as Mr.Munson knocked on the connecting door to Mr.Harrington’s room, before Mr.Harrington appeared. Dustin watched as the two conversed, jumping slightly when he felt someone kick his leg.

"Dude! What are you doing still standing? Will needs the puffy paint." Mike whisper-shouted from his chair.

Dustin grumbled, sparing one last glance at the storage room, just as Mr.Harrington was shutting his side, and Mr.Munson was walking back into the room, bright smile on his face. "I was observing!" Dustin hissed back, sliding the puffy paint across the table to Will.

"What exactly could you be observing?" Lucas asked, reaching for the red fabric marker.

"Mr.Munson was in the storage room-" Dustin started, in a quiet tone, glancing to the desk where Mr.Munson sat.

"Yeah, duh, he doesn't just carry all his extra art supplies in his apron pockets." Max added, taking the red marker from Lucas, before he could cap it.

"If you would let me finish." Dustin groaned, "He went back in there after he got me the puffy paint, and knocked on Mr.Harrington’s door."

"Maybe he needed to borrow something?" Will suggested, with a shrug.

"That's the thing," Dustin looked around the table, holding his friends attention now. "He came out of the storage room, empty-handed!" He whisper-shouted.

"What are you getting at?" Mike questioned.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just observing." Dustin replied, hands up in mock-innocence.

"Mr.Harrington is probably just still showing him around, he's practically the school's welcoming committee." Max added, handing off the purple puffy paint to Jane.

"Maybe, I say we just stay observant, maybe we can hang around after the bell, stall a little bit, see if Mr.H comes by, for Mr.Munson." Dustin finished, casting one more glance to Mr.Munson.

When the bell rang, the group was slow to clean their area, purposefully mixing up caps, and calling out the other to fix it, slow to wipe down their table, the markers kept somehow rolling off the table, until it was just the six of them, and Mr.Munson in the classroom.

Mr.Munson finally moved towards the table, "Hey guys, lets try and get a move on it, so everyone can get to lunch on time, here I'll help."

The party was quick to try and refuse his help, all six talking at once, spewing out different excuses.

"Alright, alright, I'll just wait by the door." Mr.Munson exclaimed, "But, please try and pick up the pace, I-"

"Munson, I told you to meet me-" Mr.Harrington stopped, looking between them, and Mr.Munson.

"Hang on, Mr.H. I got a couple student still cleaning up." Mr.Munson turned away from them, and made his way to Mr.Harrington. "You can just put the tools on this back counter over here, we'll put them up when the room clears."

Dustin turned to look at his friends, gesturing towards the two teachers. "I told you!" He mouthed.

They finished quickly, and ran out the door, nearly being knocked over by Mr.Harrington who was carrying a 2x4. "Woah, let's try to be careful, and watch where were going. Almost got you guys with this." Mr.Harrington instructed softly.

"What's with the wood?" Lucas asked.

"Mr.Munson asked me to help him put up hooks for your classroom aprons." Mr.Harrington answered with a smile, as Mr.Munson came out to grab the 2x4 from him.

"You guys should get to lunch before all that's left is mystery meat." Mr.Munson butted in, giving the crew a pointed look.

The group nodded, rushing down the halls. "No, I told you!" Max slightly shoved Dustin, as they rounded the corner. "Mr.Harrington is just really, really nice."

"Max does have a point, I overheard Nance telling my mom how much of a help Mr.H was when she was setting up her classroom. He spent the entire afternoon helping her rearrange all the desks until she was satisfied." Mike added, grabbing a lunch tray. "Mom thinks he’s a real dream boat too." Mike added with an eyeroll.

"I think they would be cute together." Jane added, after they got their lunches, and found a table.

"Who?" Will questioned, as he handed off the cherries from his fruit cup to Mike.

"Mr.Munson, and Mr.Harrington." Jane replied matter o' factly.

"Jane, don't be ridi-" Lucas was cut off by a swift kick to his shin, by Max.

"No, I think she has a point. They make for a cute bromance." Max nodded reassuringly to Jane, before taking the pickles from Lucas' sandwich.

The group fell into an easy discussion afterwards about the latest campaign Will was working on.

--

Eddie was biting his lip raw, watching Steve hold the board in place, drilling it in place, spare screw held between his lips. Eddie tried to imagine what his flexed arms must've looked like under the stupid knit sweaters he wore . Eddie didn't even register Steve calling for him, until he turned to face him, waving a hand in front of his face. Eddie jumped slightly, apologizing.

Steve smiled, holding out his hand to Eddie that held the screws he didn't use. "Could you bring over the hooks now?"

Eddie took the spare screws from Steve's hand, and went back to his desk to grab the hooks they would use. Eddie waited patiently beside Steve, handing him each hook as he needed it.

Once all the hooks were up, Steve started helping Eddie place all the student aprons in their appropriate sections. Steve took a step back, hands on his hips as he admired the work. "We make a good team, Munson."

"I owe you like a weeks worth of lunch, Harrington. I'm useless with power tools." Eddie joked, moving to clean up the saw dust on the ground, Steve following with the dust pan. Eddie really wasn't bad with power tools, growing up and helping his Uncle Wayne with all the repairs the trailer ever needed, but how could he say no, when Steve looked so eager to help. He had ran to their shared supply closet, and pulled out his new drill to show Eddie, the second Eddie mentioned needing to put up racks in his room.

Steve now kneeled down in front of Eddie, holding the dustpan in place as Eddie swept the dust in a neat pile. Steve looked up at Eddie as he continued their conversation. "Does it have to be lunch? I can go for a couple dinners." Steve smiled up at him.

Eddie had to constantly remind himself they were in a school setting, whenever Steve was in compromising positions like this, and saying suggestive things like that to Eddie. Steve was just being a bro, a bro that happened to have the most beautiful hazel eyes Eddie had ever seen, hair that he constantly stopped himself from running his fingers through, and a face that has now made it’s way into Eddie’s sketch book. Eddie was looking too into it, he was sure that was the case. Still, Eddie couldn't stop the blush that crept up his neck. Eddie really needed to keep his cool.

"I don't mind doing dinner, Harrington. We should think about inviting the rest of the teachers in our hall too!" Eddie was quick to add, "Nancy, Johnathan, and Argyle all seem pretty close to us in age. It would be cool if we all went out together, y'know some staff bonding time! You could bring Buckley too!" Eddie finished, as he swept the pile into the dustpan gently.

Eddie tried not to think too much of the way Steve deflated at the suggestion. "Yeah, staff bonding sounds fun." Steve sighed as he stood, walking to drop the pile in the trash. "Any suggestions?" Steve asked, as he stood by Eddies desk.

"My friend Gareth mentioned this bar downtown, we could see if everyone wants to do that?" Eddie answered, moving to place the broom back in the storage room. "I'll ask Johnathan, and Argyle, if you ask Nancy, and Robin."

"Sounds like a deal, let's do it after the first month of school, as like a celebration, maybe we can turn it into a monthly thing." Steve suggested.

"I like that idea, I'll be sure to mention it to the guys when I talk to them." Eddie responded.

"Hey, I don't mean to cut this short, but I have to run and finish up some copies before next period." Steve explained, as he walked towards Eddies closed door. Eddie nodded in acknowledgment, and waved as Steve ran out.

Staff bonding, really, Eddie? Eddie groaned to himself, plopping down on his spinny chair.

***

the kids are introduced now! this part feels a little shorter than the rest, sorry :( i hope you guys are liking this as much as i like writing it, i can’t wait to upload more. thank you again for all the notes :)  i am having an awfully hard time coming up with a title hahaha

taglist: @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @menace-behaviour @hardboiledleggs @toobluebrunette @bye-zai @panicatthediaz @munsonsduchess @thing-a-ling @swimmingbirdrunningrock @jestyzesty @cutepumpkin4 @flustratedcas @teelagurl558 @electrick-marionnett @beckkthewreck @alienace @shinekocreator @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @bidisastersworld @gay-little-bitch @booksandsience @korixae @afewproblems @henderdads @mightbeasleep @winterbuckwild @yournowheregirl @steveisabicon @milf-harrington @overhillunderhill @ thatonepotatochild @uwujinniee @gregre369 @tiny-enthusiast @eboyawstenn @anaibis @vlada-elya @vampireinthesun @grtwdsmwhr @djo-time @theysherobinbuckley @straight4joekeery @nonbinary-eddie-munson 

[imfinereallyy]

i'll be sure to come back July 2nd and wish you a happy birthday! but as for now, can i please request from your dialogue prompt list, n. 35 “Please leave a message, after the beep.” with Steddie? ♡

this is such a fun idea and i look forward to reading the stuff you'll create! ♡♡

@spicysix I hope this one is up to your expectations, it was a lot of fun to write! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I had an angsty idea, if anyone is interested in it I might still write it, but today i needed some good old domestic fluff.

“Eddie, are you being serious right now.? Steve huffed, placing his hands on his hips. Steve loved the man beyond anything, but he could be an immature brat sometimes.

Eddie had his hands over his ears, yelling, “La la la, not listening.” In the middle of their apartment. He was refusing to hear Steve out.

“For the love of god, Eddie! Would you just—” Steve moved to grab his boyfriend's arms to yank them away from his ears. Eddie squealed and ran around the couch.

“Eddie isn’t here right now. Please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeep.” Eddie’s hands gripped the arm of the couch, trying to dodge Steve.

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous!” Steve crossed his arms in a huff. He thought the party being here would soften the blow, and just maybe Eddie would hear him out. But no, apparently, them being here made Eddie extra stubborn.

Steve really loved the damn fool.

“Is there a reason Eddie is being extra weird on movie night?” Dustin and Will walked out of their kitchen. It was Will, surprisingly, who asked. He had come a long way from the shy kid Steve once knew. He was proud of him.

Especially when he called Eddie out on his bullshit like now.

“I will have you know, little Byers, will of the wise, that I am not being extra weird! This is a perfectly reasonable reaction to an absolute travesty of a suggestion! Also, Steve, you love that I am ridiculous! Don't act like you don't.” Eddie collapsed on the couch dramatically, and heaved out a sound that could only be described as a mix between a sigh and a strangled cry.

Eddie should have gone into acting instead of music. Indeed the man would have made a killing.

“I haven’t seen Eddie this distressed since we told him the bat tattoo didn’t make it after the literal bats tore him apart. Maybe it’s serious.” Dustin bit his lip. It was clear to Steve he was torn between choosing sides between him and Eddie.

It was a tale as old as time really, at this point.

Max strolled into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. “What’s princess crying about now?” She shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

Eddie gasped, “Princess?! I expect the blatant homophobia from Mike—“

A distinct “hey what the fuck!” comes from the bathroom but they all ignore it.

“—But from you Red? I’m devastated.” Eddie gripped his shirt where his heart is.

“I’m bisexual, you dumbass; how can I be homophobic? Besides, that wasn’t a dig at your sexuality but rather the fact you are being a spoiled brat right now.” Max shoved another handful in her mouth as she casually tore Eddie apart.

Steve knew he should defend his boyfriend, but he was a little proud of his kids right now.

“You don’t even know why I am upset! All of you are taking Steve’s side!” Eddie grumbled.

“Dude, I didn’t take anyone’s side. And you haven’t even told us what’s got you so upset.”

Eddie rushed over to grab Dustin by the shoulders. “Oh, Dusty buns, you’re not even prepared. Our dear boy Stevie, just told me…that he’s thinking about shaving his chest.”

The room was silent before Dustin finally said, “Oh, never mind, I am on Steve’s side. That jungle needs to go.”

Eddie fell dramatically into the floor in outcry. Jesus Christ, Steve thought. Why am I into this?

Max put the bowl down, suddenly getting serious. “No, I agree with Eddie; you can’t do that.” She looked Steve up and down; a blush rose as she remained stoic. “Yea, Steve, it needs to stay.”

“Ew, gross! Max! I’m telling Lucas and El you said that!” Dustin scrunched up his nose while Will giggled.

“And? They’ll agree with me!” Max shouted back.

Steve was starting to feel uncomfortable, but Eddie’s smile was wide. It made Steve smile a tiny bit.

But only a teeny tiny bit.

“I agree it has to stay,” Will spoke up with a blush blooming across his face, breaking up the fight.

“No, no! Not you too Will!”

“What? Maybe I just wish I could grow chest hair too.”

“Oh we both know that’s not what this is about!” Dustin tugged on his hair.

Max stuck her tongue out, “Sucks to suck loser.”

The next few minutes, we’re chaos as they all start to place down arguments on what to do about his chest hair. Okay, now Steve was definitely uncomfortable.

“Alright, alright. Enough.” Steve spoke calmly, “I appreciate your concern for my body hair, but please stop talking about it. All of you are my weird surrogate children—“

Dustin leaned over to Max and whispered, “Look mom finally admitted it.” She tried to smother her giggles as Steve leveled them with a look.

“—so it’s a little weird you guys are arguing about it.”

“Stevie, honey. Ignore the children. Actually, just ignore Dustin. And listen to the rest of us. Don’t shave it.” Eddie came up to Steve and rested his hand gently on his chest. His thumb softly stroked the fabric of his shirt. Steve hummed quietly at the gesture; for a moment, he’s forgotten that they weren’t alone.

Steve gently cupped Eddie’s cheeks, before speaking quietly. “It’s just…baby. Baby, i get so sweaty with it.”

Eddie’s eyes filled with mischief. “I know it’s why I like it.”

Steve barked out a laugh as he heard groans throughout the room. Suddenly a burst of noise from the other side of the apartment startled all of them.

“Why are you saying im homophobic? Im not homophobic!” Mike crossed his arms in a huff.

“Until you unlock that closet door, you’re homophobic, Mike.” Max glared.

“What the hell does that even mean!?” Mike stomped.

Steve interrupted before it got out of hand, “Calm down, Wheeler. They are just fucking with you. We know you’re not a homophobe. They are just arguing whether or not I should shave my chest hair.”

Mike scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Ew, why are you guys even arguing about it? It’s Steve. It’s gross either way.”

Steve glared, “Never mind, you’re homophobic for that one. The chest hair stays.”

Eddie screamed, “Victory!”, and started peppering Steve’s face in kisses.

And when the children, who were not really children anymore, started to scream at each other in the background, Steve didn’t even care. Because right here, with Eddie, who made grabby hands at his chest, and his gremlins filling up the place with noise, is home.

***

fluff fluff fluff. also I agree the chest hair should stay.

find the request game here.

[steddieas-shegoes]

It doesn’t hit Steve until he’s holding Dustin at their small, private funeral for Eddie.

Eddie’s actually gone.

They actually lost someone this time.

They’d toed the line for years, always coming so close to an unbearable loss, but always finding a way out.

Not this time.

As Steve held a sobbing Dustin, he looked at Lucas, Robin, Nancy, Erica, and Mike. They’d been the ones to gather in a circle and say a few words.

The rest of the crew stood behind, not knowing Eddie well enough to contribute.

And now they never would.

********

April 1986

Steve shot up in bed, sweat dripping down his face.

It was the tenth night in a row of the same nightmare: Eddie wandering lost in the Upside Down calling for him. He could never make out exactly what Eddie looked like, like his mind was already forgetting the way his dimples appeared when he gave that mischievous grin or the way his hair frizzed so much because he went to bed with it wet, or so he told Steve when he asked him if he’d ever heard of conditioner.

If this was Steve’s punishment for not being fast enough to save him, he’d just have to suffer through it.

He should’ve done better. He knew it, the Eddie in his dreams knew it, even Dustin had said something that made him think he knew it too.

He didn’t hold it against him. He was right after all.

He did take too long getting to the trailer.

He looked around the room, taking inventory.

Nail bat? Check.

Bathroom light on? Check.

Door and window locked? Check.

Eddie in his bed? Check.

Steve froze.

He turned his head, genuinely believing he’d lost it. The concussions finally caught up to him because…

…Eddie was asleep in his bed.

The same Eddie who died in the Upside Down almost a month ago.

Steve moved slowly, caught between not wanting to wake up Eddie if it was him and not wanting to disrupt his imagination if he wasn’t real.

Just as he managed to get one leg off the bed, Eddie sat up like he’d had a nightmare, gasping for air.

Steve stared. Eddie stared back.

Then Eddie smiled.

Steve fell off the bed.

“Jesus Christ!”

“That’s my line, Stevie.”

Eddie was leaning over the bed, smirking down at Steve’s bewilderment and now physical pain from hitting his elbow on the bedside table.

“You’re dead. You’re a dream. You’re not real. You never had fangs before. This isn’t you.”

Steve stared down at his shaking hands. He’d never had a dream or nightmare this realistic before. He might have to let Robin take him for brain scans when he wakes up.

“Not dead. Definitely not a dream, but it’s nice to know I’ve been in yours. I am, in fact, real.” Eddie sighed as he rested his head on his hands, still smirking down at Steve frozen on the floor. “I did not have fangs before, that’s true. But I’m still me. Just a bit more…vampire-y?”

“I didn’t even smoke last night.”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything. And I’m a bit offended that you’re buying from someone else. I know I’ve been gone, but c’mon.”

Steve blinked up at the man who was dead when they had to leave him in the Upside Down.

“You didn’t have a heartbeat.”

“And I still don’t, can you believe that?”

Steve just shook his head. There was no fucking way this was real.

Of all the things he’s seen in the last three years, this was the most unbelievable.

“We. We left you. How are you here?”

“I actually don’t know the answer to that. I’ve been kinda wandering around down there? Up there? In there?” Eddie shrugged. “I guess I just dreamt about being here and now I am.”

“Are you saying you teleported?”

Eddie laughed. “I guess. I didn’t walk here.”

Steve couldn’t hold back the hand reaching out to touch Eddie’s cheek.

It wasn’t as cold as he expected it to be.

Eddie’s eyes searched Steve’s face, his light demeanor dropping into something more serious.

“I don’t know much. I know I’ve been alone for what feels like years. I’ve got a craving for blood, which is a lot to come to terms with. I’m undead but still need sleep? Which is so fucked, like I’m not even fully human anymore and I still have to waste time sleeping?”

Steve just stared blankly.

“And! The heartbeat thing is so weird, man. I still have to breathe but for what? My heart doesn’t beat! There’s no blood circulating, yet I need blood to survive! So many flaws in this system!”

Steve barked out a laugh.

“Holy shit, I missed you.”

If Eddie could blush still, he would be. Steve Harrington telling him he missed him? Never thought he’d live to see the day. Or, in this case, die to see the day.

Steve seemed to realize what he said after a moment of awkward staring.

“Uh. I mean. We all missed you. Like, your…energy?”

It was Eddie’s turn to laugh. He rolled off the bed and joined Steve on the floor, settling as close to the warmth radiating off of Steve as he could.

“It’s okay if you missed me, Stevie. I missed you too.”

Even with minimal light in the room, Eddie could see the blush creeping up Steve’s neck to his cheeks.

“We’ve never lost someone before.”

“And you still haven’t.”

Eddie placed his hand on Steve’s knee, squeezing gently to remind him that he was here. He wasn’t the same, or even completely alive, but he was here.

“I don’t know how to break this to the kids.”

“It’s gotta be easier than telling them I’m dead.”

“Dustin’s been a mess. I mean, they all have, but. Dustin’s barely left his house. He won’t talk to anyone.”

“Can we call him?”

Steve checked the clock on the bedside table. 3:02 wasn’t the most ideal time to call the Henderson home and risk the wrath of a woken up Claudia.

“We can try the walkie, but if he doesn’t answer the first time, we can call in a few hours.”

Eddie nodded excitedly. If time passed differently for him like he said, he’s been alone for a long time. At least Steve had Robin and the kids and even Joyce to cope. Eddie had been led to believe he was trapped forever in the one place that could probably kill even those who weren’t completely alive.

He deserved to be reunited with people who loved him.

Steve pushed away the insecurity of not being enough. It’s not like he’d been close to Eddie anyways.

But when he felt a hand on his cheek, he realized that he’d started crying. The hand wiped away a tear, but didn’t leave his face.

“Steve, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

Sweetheart.

No one had ever called Steve that. Not even his mom when he was younger. He’d been Steve or The King or The Hair or Mom when Max and Dustin were being little shits.

He was sure that time stood still while he processed the new nickname, but unfortunately, he’d been staring at Eddie with tears falling down his face for god knows how long.

“I’m…I’m just really happy you’re here.”

Eddie relaxed, calm now that he knew nothing was actually wrong.

“I’m glad I’m here with you.”

That last part was important.

Eddie couldn’t imagine how this would have gone with anyone else.

He certainly hadn’t expected Steve to be so accepting so quickly, and he figured at best, he’d be pretty indifferent to him showing up. He could pass him off to Dustin and pretend he didn’t wake up to a dead acquaintance in his bed.

But Steve folded into his lap, head resting against his chest and hands curling into his shirt to hold him in place.

“You’re right.”

“About what?”

Eddie was running his hands up and down Steve’s back, enjoying the moment for what it was before it ended.

“The no heartbeat thing is weird.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah. Think you could get used to it?”

“I’ve gotten used to stranger things.”

Part 2

[love-kurdt]

This is Me Trying (byler): 3

word count: 6,996

warnings for this chapter: none really, ngl. just very honest and open conversation. but same as all the other warnings in previous chapters, just be cautious if you see anything that may trigger you. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short: if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, please dni.

The world buzzed with static around him, each second feeling like an eternity. Time stood still, just like the day Mike took off his watch. His hands were shaking, the anticipation inside him about to explode like fireworks. He balled his hands up into fists and put them in his sweatshirt pockets, but immediately pulled them back out because he could feel his palms getting sweaty.

Mike glanced around, and saw the nextdoor neighbor taking her dog out for a walk. He raised his hand in an awkward greeting, and she smiled back at him. He watched her run further and further away until they were out of his line of sight; a minute had definitely passed by now. He turned his attention back to the door, and lifted his hand again, going to knock one last time.

But then, before he was able to, Will opened the door.

Mike froze, his hand still in the air. He lowered his arm slowly, and took a mental photograph of Will’s awestricken face before he was met with a faceful of door. He should have seen that coming. He leaned his head against the door, exhaling with a shaky breath. “Will… I know I’m the last person you want to see. I just…” he hesitated, digging his nails into his palms. This was likely going to be his first of many fumbles. “This is going fucking splendidly already, Jesus Christ.”

There was no response on Will’s end, but Mike figured he might as well get everything off his chest, even if Will wasn’t there to hear it. Saying it out loud could probably suffice. “Uh… I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry. For everything. For hurting you with my words, with my actions, for being so fucking reckless with my life. I’ve accumulated a lot of regrets over the past few years, but…” here goes nothing, “loving you will never be one of them.”

Mike closed his eyes with his head still on the door, but jumped back a bit in surprise when he felt a light thump right next to his face. “... Will?”

“I’m listening.”

The faint sound of Will’s voice was music to Mike’s ears; low and velvety, with a hint of rasp. His stomach nervously flipped as he cleared his throat, continuing on. “I’ve been a mess without you. I don’t know who I am without you. This is me trying to say…” Mike trailed off. What was he trying to say? How could he reduce his love for Will into a single sentence? How could he explain himself in a concise, yet bold form that wouldn’t scare Will away? He couldn’t. He was doomed regardless of how the conversation would unfold. He asked Will the first thing that came to mind: “... You ever been to a college party?”

“Yeah, a few.” Will replied.

“Well, I just failed out of school because I went to way too many of them. I just drove here directly from my last one, actually.” He tried to add a bit of humor to his voice, but it ended up coming out sounding pathetically broken. Fumble number two. Fuck it all. Everything was going down in flames. Mike set his hand on the door, caressing the painted surface as if it were Will’s face.

“But here’s the thing— it’s hard to be at a party when you feel like an open wound. You’re all I think about, and it’s like I can’t… I can’t let go. It’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. And even though you don’t love me, and even if we can never be friends again, I need that closure, Will, and I need you to understand that I won’t move on if that never happens.” Mike felt the doorknob click below, and he lifted his head up just as the door opened again. Will emerged, tears lining his cheeks. Motherfucking fumble number three. When Will and Mike were little, they functioned as a unit. When Will was happy, Mike was happy. When Will would cry, Mike would cry with him. Now, Mike felt like he was five years old again, getting choked up at the sight of Will crying, and mentally cursed himself. “Fuck, now I’ve made you cry for the umpteenth time in our lives. What else is new?”

Will crossed his arms across his chest, and looked down towards the ground, still on the defensive. But his voice betrayed him when he said, “No, please don't worry about me. It’s fine. And I…” his voice wobbled, “I’m sorry for slamming the door. I was just so…”

Mike nodded in sorrowful understanding. “Yeah.”

He took a good look at Will, noticing how Will’s hair had finally grown out of the bowl cut, falling into his eyes in loose copper waves, ending just above his strong jaw. His eyes, even obscured with tears, looked green as ever. Mike wanted to drown in them.

“You changed your hair,” Mike heard himself say. Will let out a small smile at that, brushing some of his bangs out of his eyes, along with some tears that had attached themselves to his eyelashes.

“Yeah, the bowl was kind of… archaic.” Both of them began awkwardly laughing while still crying. Mike had to refrain from thinking too much, because if he did, he’d get all sentimental about how this was the first time he’d laughed with Will in… he couldn’t even remember. 

“You like it, though?” he asked. He still sought his approval, after everything. Of course Mike liked it. Mike liked Will’s hair no matter how it was cut. But this style that Will was sporting currently had Mike falling flat on his face; and not literally, for once.

“Yeah, it really suits you,” he told Will, who was flattered at the compliment.

“Thank you. I mean, Mom’s skill set with scissors was… limited, but she tried.” Mike thought of that one time he’d walked into the Byers household unannounced back in junior year of high school. Will was sitting on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with a literal bowl on his head as Joyce shuffled around her son with a pair of kitchen shears. Joyce was an incredible mom who loved both of her boys unconditionally. Which reminded Mike…

“How’d you get my number?”

“Your mom gave it to me over Christmas break.”

“She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m sorry for letting her give me your number,” he apologized, picking at the nails of his index fingers with his thumbs. “And I’m sorry for calling you on your birthday. I should’ve respected your space.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Will replied quickly, eyes wide. “I was being a total asshole that day. I know this doesn’t excuse what I said to you, but I’ll have you know I’d just failed an English test–”

“Did you not read the material?” Mike smirked, and Will smiled back up at him, their eyes fully meeting for the first time. 

“You know me too well,” he said, and Mike’s heart skipped a beat. “But then, when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me.”

Mike gawked at that, his eyes narrowing. “On your birthday? That’s ass.”

Will leaned against the doorframe. “Mike Wheeler, everyone: ex-English major, literary nerd, and author.” Mike ignored the not-so-subtle roasts in favor of Will’s muscles, which were even more defined than he remembered. Will had obviously become well-acquainted with the gym. His gaze trailed along the divots of his biceps, and his mouth went dry when he realized that Will was wearing… the blue sweatshirt Mike had sworn had gone missing during senior year.

“But yeah,” Will continued, “leave it to Matt Winters to ruin the one day of the year where I don’t feel like shit. So when you called, I’d just gotten back home. And I felt so guilty for snapping at you and hanging up that I didn’t call you back after the fact, because I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Are you kidding? I could never be mad at you. Ever,” Mike emphasized. “And we both know I’m not a good person when I hold grudges.”

Will’s strong eyebrows furrowed, and Mike feared he’d said something wrong, but Will rose up onto his tiptoes, lifting his hand up to Mike’s forehead in mock-concern. “Mike, are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Yes. If Will was going to act all flirty and cute and tiptoe-y and forehead touch-y, then they’d need to call an ambulance. Because Mike was down bad.

“Haha. You’re funny,” Mike deadpanned at the joke, despite himself.

Will retreated back to his spot in the doorway. “But seriously, I just told you that I have a real live ex, and you’re not mad?” How could Mike be mad at Will for that? Why would Mike be mad at Will for that? It wasn’t like Mike had any right or say as to who Will dated, and if Mike did so much as judge Will for any romance-related decisions, he’d be the biggest fucking hypocrite to ever walk the earth. He figured he’d come clean to Will about this one. It was the whole reason why he was here, after all.

“Will, I hooked up with four guys…” Should he say this next part? Sure, okay, whatever– “And all of them had the initials ‘WB’.” Mike’s focus shifted down to his shoes, too humiliated to see Will’s reaction. But he didn’t even have to see it, because Will giggled. Like, high pitched and adorably. Mike’s head snapped up and Will, having gotten caught laughing at Mike’s biggest shame, slapped his own hand to his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle it.

“No way,” Will said, his voice still suppressed with his hand.

“Way,” Mike quipped back. He decided to try something new then, reaching up to Will’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. His beautiful lips were curved into a shy smile.

Will shook his head, crossing his arms again, but not in hostility like he had before. “I don’t believe you.” And all of a sudden, it was August 1989, and they were back in Mike’s basement again. Those were Will’s last words to Mike before he’d stormed out, never to be seen again. And a year and a half later, Will became thoroughly aware of the aftermath, where Mike tried and failed to fill the Will-less void with–

“Wyatt Bowman, Wes Butler, Walker Brooks, Warren Blakeley,” he listed off what he’d endearingly dubbed The WBs™, but now in retrospect viewed as fucking pathetic, and watched as Will exhaled sadly. He tacked the only thing he could think of onto the end of his list to lighten the mood: “... And there was a guy named Elvis.”

Will snorted. “Like Presley?”

“Exactly.”

“Jesus,” Will whispered, running a hand through his hair. Mike wished it was his hand instead. As he took in Will’s jarred reaction, his world went cold. It made more sense when Mike shivered, looked up, and felt a few snowflakes land on his eyelids. He lowered his gaze back to Will, avoiding the impending guilt with lighthearted bluntness.

“Yeah,” he concluded unceremoniously, “so, you have an ex-boyfriend, and I have a disturbingly high body count. I think that makes us even.” Will’s lips formed a line, and Mike diverted his eyes back to the ground. He watched Will’s feet, clad in fuzzy socks and slippers, shift backwards. The moment was finally here; this was the end. They were not, in fact, even; Will was shutting him out for the last time, giving Mike the closure he’d practically begged for. Mike lifted his head so he could at least say goodbye properly, but saw that Will was… waiting for him?

“Wanna come inside?” he asked, and Mike raised his eyebrows in shock. Well, that was a plot twist if he’d ever seen one. He took a deep breath, muttering a slow “Yeah… sure,” and followed Will into his house. Mike took off his mud-caked shoes at the front door, remembering how much of a neat freak Will was, and imagining his reaction if he tracked the past seven or so hours into the house. He expected it would probably begin with “Michael James.”

Once situated, he took a look around the living room. There were multiple swirly, wooden furniture pieces that Mike knew Will wouldn’t have picked out in a million years, but he’d still managed to make the apartment his own. Framed movie posters, a black couch, and a few bookshelves were sprinkled modestly amongst the otherwise very feminine decor. Mike walked over to the bookshelves, which were fully stacked with comic books and picture frames. He peered at one of Will posed with Ivy and Hannah, who gripped onto either side of a metal pole that Will had perched atop his shoulders as he lifted them in a white muscle tank top. He knew he’d started working out. God, Will was attractive. He smiled to himself, moving on to look at the next photo. It was the exact same one Mike had on his desk, the photo that Jonathan took of Mike on Will’s handlebars. Mike felt like crying again, so he looked away before that could happen. His attention was drawn to the ceiling, which was lined with Christmas lights. He guessed the passage of time had thankfully worked in Will’s favor, as well.

“So Kate’s at work?” Mike asked, and Will whipped around from where he’d been organizing one of his other bookshelves, like he cared about what Mike thought in regard to his preference of alphabetical versus publisher order.

“How do you know about Kate?”

Mike hesitated, expression sheepish, “I… I ran into your friends Ivy and Hannah on campus. They’re how I found you.”

Will blanched. “Oh God. What did they say to you?”

Mike shook his head in reassurance, taking a step towards Will. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I think they were just worried about me, because I was… kind of lost.”

“You didn’t think to get a map?” Will, the little shit, teased as he took a step of his own towards Mike.

“I had one, Will!” Mike tossed a hand up in exasperation. “I just… couldn’t read it correctly?” He phrased the last part of his sentence more like a question, which Will must have thought was funny, because he moved a few inches closer to Mike in order to poke his chest.

“Okay, that tracks,” he grinned, and Mike feigned offense as he felt Will’s fingerprint burn a hole in his sweatshirt, the fire expanding to scorch his entire torso. Will was close enough that Mike could hear Will breathing lightly through his nose, and could see the freckles scattered like constellations across his neck. His eyes traveled up a bit to land on the one mole above Will’s lip, and he fought the urge to kiss it.

“Ivy and Hannah said to tell you they said you’re welcome, by the way, whatever that means,” he breathed, and Will processed what Mike had just told him before bringing his hands up to his own face as he turned beet-red.

“Of course they did.”

Mike observed Will’s reaction, pushing down the bit of hope that bubbled up inside of him. He hadn’t a single clue of what Will had told his two friends, but the way he reacted made him think that maybe it wasn’t all terrible.

“Wait,” Will brought a hand up to lightly smack his forehead, “I’m so stupid, I should have asked when you first came in.” You’re not stupid at all, if anything I’m stupid, but go on, Mike thought. “Do you need anything to drink or eat? You look like shit.”

“Wow,” Mike said as he glared back at Will, giving away his joking nature with a small lift of his lips. “But sure, water is fine, thank you.” Will stood there for a moment in contemplation. Mike gulped, feeling incredibly anxious as to what Will would say next. 

“I’m gonna make you pancakes,” he told Mike, ambition in his tone. Mike wasn’t even supposed to be there, yet there Will was, taking on the role of hospitable host. Mike shrugged, leaving the option up to Will as to if he really wanted to be that kind to him.

“You don’t have to.”

Will was the one who shortened the distance between them this time, taking Mike’s much larger hand in his own, intertwining their fingers and gently rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “But I want to.” Mike felt lightheaded.

“Well, I didn’t say it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Mike glanced down at their connected hands as Will spoke again, but he didn’t hear what he was saying. He blinked, pulling his attention back up to Will’s face. How was he supposed to concentrate on what Will was saying when their palms were brushing together with intentionality? And of Will’s own volition, no less. 

“Wait, sorry, what?”

“I said, I’ll have some too, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Well, now Mike had to say yes. He gave in, and Will nodded in approval before letting go of Mike’s hand. Those few sweet seconds would have been enough to last Mike for another year and a half without him, but now Will was making him pancakes. There was no turning back after this. Will headed to the kitchen, turning back when he noticed Mike standing in the middle of the room and gesturing for Mike to follow him, chuckling to himself.

Damn Will for being so aware of the effect he had on Mike.

They made it into the kitchen, and Will headed to the pantry while Mike hopped up on the counter like when they were kids. Old habits die hard. Will eyed him from where he stood, grabbing the box of Bisquick. He ritualistically walked around the kitchen, grabbing eggs, milk, vegetable oil, and a bowl before setting them all down on the counter. He paused in what he was doing to reach over to his coffee pot, pouring a mug, grabbing the sugar bowl and dumping whatever was left into the mug before handing it to Mike, who took it with gracious hands. He’d remembered the way Mike took his coffee. Black, no cream, and a diabetes-level fuck ton of sugar.

“Thank you.” That didn’t even begin to cover how Mike felt about it.

Will hummed in response as he got to work, cracking an egg into the bowl and whisking it around. “So what have you been up to? I mean, besides hooking up with the entire male population of Indianapolis and failing out of school,” Will asked, and Mike died a little on the inside. The truth hurts sometimes, Wheeler. Deal with it.

“Jeez, Will. Harsh. Warn a guy next time,” Mike frowned, sipping his coffee. “I’ve been working on a novel.”

“Ooh, do tell!” Will exclaimed, turning to Mike as he stirred the batter, the sweatshirt he wore— Mike’s sweatshirt— stretching as his muscles flexed underneath the fabric of the sleeves. Mike set his coffee down next to him and shifted so his hands were squished under his thighs. That way he wouldn’t be able to do what he truly wanted to, which was to grab Will by his waist and shove his tongue down his throat as he ran his fingertips over Will’s arms.

“Um, it’s a mythological coming of age, with a bit of a twist… the protagonist is gay.”

“Ohhh my god,” Will grinned, all teeth. “That is great. I love that.”

I love you, Mike thought, but held his tongue. “Right? But yeah, I’ve been working on that, and… journaling. A lot.” Well… journaling was a synonym of writing dozens upon dozens of love letters, right? But Will didn’t have to know that.

“Mike Wheeler using a therapist-approved coping mechanism? I’m proud of you,” Will said. Mike preened at the praise as he pulled one of his hands out from under his leg to pick up his mug.

There was a beat of silence, and Will stood there, his eyes fixed on Mike for a strangely long time as the pancakes sizzled. Mike watched Will’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. He was either hallucinating, tripping, or Will was checking Mike out.

“But what about you?” Mike asked, effectively snapping Will out of his trance, “Any groundbreaking endeavors I should be caught up on?”

Will shrugged as he plated the perfectly congruent, golden pancakes he’d made. “I’ve been working on this new painting for a while now… it’s a watercolor piece, so it’s kind of out of my comfort zone,” Will explained, turning to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of Canadian maple syrup. Mike nodded at what Will was telling him, but something else dwelled  in the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah, you’re more into oils on canvas, right?” Mike asked, and Will’s eyes snapped up to meet his, establishing an understanding between the two of them. “I saw the painting,” Mike remarked slowly, trying his best not to freak Will out or make him feel ashamed of it. “I’ve gotta say, you flatter me, Byers. I am not that attractive.”

Will couldn’t hide his smile. “Shut up. Yes you are.”

Will handed Mike a plate, and Mike thanked him as they dug in, the two young men standing at (and sitting on) the counter as they ate. Mike cut into his pancakes, stabbing a bite-sized piece with his fork and swirling it around in the syrup on his plate. He looked up when he heard a similar scratching noise and saw Will doing the same thing. Will met Mike’s gaze, light smile gracing his face as he lifted the fork up and popped the piece into his mouth. Mike blushed when he realized he’d been staring, and quickly focused back on his own plate. He chewed the piece of pancake he’d cut and confirmed to himself only after one bite that these were the best pancakes he’d ever had. These were pancakes of reconciliation.

He turned towards Will to compliment his culinary skills, which would inevitably be shot down with a humble, “they’re just pancakes, Mike,” only to see Will staring at Mike already. Will’s eyes jumped from Mike to the floor to the kitchen cabinet to the floor and back to Mike all within the span of five seconds. Mike held his attention this time when he licked his lips, and Will watched intently as the syrup disappeared.

God, Mike felt like he was in high school all over again; those four years had felt like a romcom movie montage of staring, quick touches, and flirting back and forth. The only difference between those movies and real life was the reserved, cautious nature behind every single stare, touch, and flirtation. But this time around, Mike noticed, Will seemed more confident in himself, more purposeful in the way he carried and expressed himself. Everything lingered for longer than normal, than acceptable, than usual. It was a promising sign.

Once they’d finished their pancakes and put their dishes in the sink, Mike and Will headed to Will’s room. There was something intimate about entering Will’s space like this; something sacred, something previously unattainable. That was the dresser that held all of Will’s clothes. That was the desk Will drew at. That was the bed Will slept in. That was the phone Will had used to break Mike’s heart.

Mike admired the dark blue walls, decorated modestly with a few more posters, before he came across Will’s framed Hawkins High School diploma. Mike remembered that day vividly; after everyone in the Party had walked across the stage and gone back to Mike’s house to celebrate, Will had brought their friends into a secluded area of the house and told them he was gay. Mike, who had been head over heels in love with his best friend for over five years at that point, was having a crisis, because oh my God, Will was gay, and the flirting might not have all been in his head. Maybe he had a chance. But every interaction between them following that day was strictly platonic, and Will made sure Mike knew it. So Mike withdrew after a while, not wanting to keep stringing himself along like he had been.

“Little did I know that everything would change,” Mike said more to himself than to Will, but Will walked over to stand next to him, close enough that their arms brushed.

“Why, because I came out?” he asked, looking up at Mike, who didn’t reciprocate the action, but instead kept staring straight ahead at the diploma, as if it were a portal that would take him back in time to before his world imploded.

“No, not because you came out. Because… because then, I fell under the delusion that I could finally have you.” He looked down at Will then. “But then I fucked it all up in August.”

Will turned his body so he could fully face Mike before saying, “Okay, I’m confused. I’ve gotta ask. What’s your recollection of that night?”

Mike didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to remember it. Hell, he didn’t want to think about it. But Mike took a second to reason with himself, because Will was standing beside him, Will was asking something of him, and the least he could do after everything was oblige to Will’s one request. So Mike told him.

It was the summer of 1989, and all was well. Hawkins was no longer nationally renowned as an extra-terrestrial hybrid between earth and hell, but simply as a small town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. It was the summer of 1989, and Mike was lying on the basement couch with his legs hanging off the edge. His eyes were closed, and he wore his headphones which were attached to his Walkman, playing Will’s mixtape on repeat, just as Mike had from the second it fell into his hands back in 1986. He felt the thumps of the opening and closing of the basement door, followed by light footsteps treading down the stairs. He cracked a singular eye open, but opened them both fully when he registered that it was Will who was entering his space. He always loved when Will came to his house unannounced; there was a certain element of familiarity, of family, of domesticity.

“Mike, we’ve gotta talk,” Will said, his voice a bit edgier than usual.

“Okay, what’s up? Are you–” Mike sat up, pulling his headphones fully off his head and resting them around his neck. Then he saw the look on Will’s face. He looked livid.

“What the fuck are these?” Will spat. Mike’s eyes widened at what Will held in his hands. Fuck. How on earth did he find them? Mike thought he’d hidden them well enough. Apparently, he was sorely mistaken, because Will held Mike’s letters, all twenty-six of them, all addressed to Will, in his shaking hands. Mike couldn’t even begin to explain, mouth hanging wide open.

“Dear Will,” the boy with the bowlcut began with a snarl, “when I look into your eyes, I see the rest of my life. Dear Will, why does loving you feel so wrong yet so right? Dear Will, I want you to hold me in your arms forever, because it’s the only place I can truly call home.” Mike wanted to die. “I don’t know what to… Why the hell are these addressed to me? And why… Why are there so many?”

“Because…” Mike squeaked out, eyes wide with intimidation, “they were for you. You were never meant to find those, I swear to God.”

“Are you making fun of me or something?” Will snapped, and Mike flinched. He’d never seen Will this angry before. He stood up then, his face on fire with inferiority from when he’d been on the couch as Will towered over him. Now, Mike was the one looking down at Will, whose chest was heaving with unadulterated rage.

“Come on, Will! I’m your best friend, and you really thought I’d make fun of you for being gay?” Mike kept his tone soft, what the Party called his Will Voice™, trying to calm Will down. It worked, at least a little bit, because Will’s breathing became more regulated, and less metaphorical smoke escaped his ears. But his eyes were still a menacing shade of green, his pupils blown wide.

“Well, no,” Will’s voice was lower this time, laced with venom, “but that does not mean you get to fuck around at my expense.” Will could not have been more wrong. Mike was anything but fucking around. Malice was the last thing on his mind when he thought about Will. When he thought about Will, he felt safe, he felt hopeful, he felt valuable, and he felt worthy. What he felt for Will was pure love, and he’d say it out loud… if he didn’t hate himself so much.

“I poured my heart out in those letters,” Mike told him, taking a step forward. Will stepped back. “I didn’t write them for shits and fucking giggles, they were genuine,” he continued, following Will as he backed away, stopping only when he had Will caged in between his arms, back against the wall of the basement. Will held onto Mike’s wrist, their watches positioned side by side. Mike closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, collecting himself in preparation for what he was about to say next. Confession time. “I wanted to send them so badly… I just didn’t, because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

Mike opened his eyes, drinking in the expression on Will’s flustered face. He blinked slowly, lashes fluttering, and fuck, he could hear Will’s heartbeat. He licked his lips. Afraid of what? I’m afraid of the world. I’m afraid of our country. I’m afraid of this town. I’m afraid of my family. I’m afraid of your dad. I’m afraid of myself. But I’m not afraid of you, Will. I’m not afraid of you.

And with that, Mike leaned down and kissed Will.

Those were the best five seconds of Mike’s life, by far. Will’s lips were smooth, yet firm. They were warm. Mike wanted to kiss Will forever. He allowed himself, for once in his life, to take what he wanted, and moved his hands down from the wall to Will’s hips, gripping them with all of his pent-up passion, holding him close. He felt Will’s hands meet Mike’s shoulders, and… he was pushing Mike away. Oh no.

“What are you doing, Mike? Is this a joke?” What was it with Will thinking everything was so fucking funny to Mike? He’d just bared his soul to the love of his life, but Will had interpreted everything as simply cruel humor. That was what Will thought of Mike. He wouldn’t stand for it.

“No, Will, I’m in love with you,” he said in full earnest, grabbing Will’s hand, just like he’d always done throughout the years whenever Will felt angry, alone, or scared. In turn, Will aggressively shook Mike’s hand away like it burned him.

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” What the hell?

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“I just… you’re…” Will forced his words out in a state of panic, ducking out of Mike’s reach as he headed for the stairs. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

“Please don’t go. Hear me out,” Mike pleaded, getting desperate now. “Will, you’ve got to believe me.”

Will turned around from where he stood, halfway to the basement door, his gaze ice cold. “Well, I don’t, Mike. I don’t believe you.” Mike took back what he’d thought about not being afraid of Will. He was terrified. He watched Will stomp up the rest of the way, slamming the door behind him. Mike put a hand up to his mouth, muffling a sob.

What had he done?

Mike stopped his pacing for a moment to breathe. He’d gotten it all out, and by some miracle, without breaking down. He looked over at Will, who rested his chin on his palm as he sat on his bed, staring into space. “I never got the chance to explain myself. You just… shut off.” Will blinked a few times, looking up at Mike with that same blank expression, and Mike wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He didn’t have the energy.

Will breathed out hard through his nose, getting up from his spot on the bed and meeting Mike where he was at, and placing a hand on his arm. Mike didn’t move; all this talk about Will abandoning him caused some of the resentment to return. But Will took Mike’s chin and moved it so their eyes could meet again. He looked sad.

“Because I had convinced myself that you could never love me the way I loved you. But all of a sudden you were telling me that you loved me romantically and wanted to be with me forever! How can you blame me for being thrown off?”

Mike shrugged, resigned. “I can’t.” And he meant it; he couldn’t blame Will for being thrown off, because Mike had gone through the complete opposite, having felt led on and let down. “But you also can’t blame me for waiting so long to say something. I literally hated myself for years for being gay.” Will’s hand that held his chin lowered down to the space between his neck and his shoulder, and he went to reply, but Mike spoke faster. “And when you came out, I thought maybe I could, too. But then, another part of me didn’t want to say anything, because coming clean about my true feelings for you would’ve destroyed everything we worked so hard to build back up after California.”

“Well, I didn’t make it any easier by keeping you at arm’s length after I came out,” Will said as he ran his thumb back and forth along Mike’s sweatshirt sleeve. “I tried to convince myself I was okay with being just friends in order to protect myself, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mike’s tone was rough as he crossed his arms, and Will pulled away. Nice going, Mike, you fucking asshole. “I mean…” Mike softened his voice, “I get your thought process. I just felt so… rejected. And after August, it felt so final. Like, I really thought you had zero feelings for me, and that I had severely misread things.”

“You didn’t. Believe me, Mike. You didn’t,” the words tumbled out of Will’s mouth, startling both of them at once.

Mike looked down, feeling the beginnings of tears pricking his eyes. “I’m trying to.”

Will reached out to Mike and pulled his hand up into his own, his fingertips gently mapping out the veins that spread out beneath Mike’s skin. “Do you still hate yourself now?” he asked, and Mike looked up slowly.

“I’m not gonna lie, yeah, I do,” he admitted, playing with Will’s fingers as he spoke. He was not proud of the person he’d become. He relived every single one of his mistakes on a constant loop, with each day bleeding into the next. The shame devoured him like a hungry beast. Every waking moment without Will felt like suffocation. Mike slowed his movements before confessing something else, something he never thought he’d ever be able to. “But I hate living my life without you even more.”

Will let out a small sniffle at that, and Mike was quick to comfort him, his hands flying up to cup his face and swipe his tears away. Will leaned into the touch, his voice breaking. “I hate living my life without you, too.”

“Can I…” Mike hesitated, uncertainty flooding his thoughts, but he swiftly pushed it away. “Can I hug you?” he asked. Will nodded, laughing wetly as he said, “Yes, of course.”

Mike pulled Will into a tight embrace, warmth filling his body instantly as Will’s head fell against his chest, right over his heart. He could only imagine what Will was thinking, granted the fact that his heart was thrumming at record speed. Will ran his hands up Mike’s back, pulling him down slightly by his shoulderblades. Mike nestled his nose in Will’s shaggy hair, breathing him in. He still washed his hair with the coconut shampoo he’d always used. In order to avoid the temptation to inhale Will’s scalp like a vacuum, he opted to place a feather light kiss there, so light that in the future, only he would remember it happening. As they stood there, their bodies flush against one another, Mike knew he didn’t need a watch to tell that time as an entity ceased to exist. Mike and Will held each other tightly as the rest of the world fell away. This was what Mike had been waiting for. Just this. He finally felt whole again.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been clinging to each other, or who pulled away first, but he was sure of the fact that both of them were crying. Again. “Goddamnit,” Mike laughed, practically slapping his sweatshirt sleeve up to his face to absorb the tears that fell there.

“Since when have you been a Frequent Crier?” Will teased, and Mike remembered that Will had never been exposed to the outcome of his emotional revolution before.

“What can I say?” Mike continued the bit, “Their loyalty program has really good perks.”

“Can’t argue there,” Will laughed, leaning his forehead onto Mike’s chest again as Mike’s hands ran up and down Will’s sides. He memorized the feel of Will’s improved physique, trailing his hands upwards until his hands met Will’s chest.

“Also,” Mike said into the silence, causing Will to twitch slightly, but not enough to remove his forehead from Mike’s chest. “The Heart? Didn’t know I was still held in such high esteem.” Will’s hands, which had been resting on Mike’s hips, moved forward until they were wrapped around Mike’s lower back. 

“You’ve always been my heart, Mike,” Will told him, voice steady and sure. “You never really stopped.” Mike felt his jaw drop, barely able to process what he was hearing. The words that left Will’s lips ricocheted around Mike’s brain, and he might have forgotten how to breathe for a minute. He needed Will to pinch him, so he could wake up from this… if it wasn't real, it would be a nightmare. Instead of asking Will to do it for him, he pinched himself, and felt butterflies erupt in his stomach when he didn’t snap his eyes open to the sight of his bedroom back in Indianapolis. He was still here, in Will’s room, and Will was holding him rather sensually, and Mike felt so fucking alive. 

“So… where do we go from here?” Mike whispered, and Will lifted his head, an unrecognizable look in his eyes. Mike backed away, fear slowly entering the peripherals of his mind, all possible worst-case scenarios threatening to cave in on him. He’d gone too far, been too forward, taken Will for granted, given off the impression of an ulterior motive.

“Sorry,” he said, almost a reflex at this point in his life. He always had something to be sorry for. Something to make up for. Something to–

“Me too,” Will whispered, grabbing Mike’s wrist before he could get too far. He pulled Mike back in sharply and grabbed him by the back of his neck, tugging him all the way down until their lips collided. Mike let out a little noise in absolute shock, but not wasting any time as he shoved his hands into Will’s hair, raising his head as he leaned into the heat of Will’s mouth. While Mike’s hands remained pretty central to Will’s upper body, Will’s hands roved Mike everywhere they possibly could. They lifted from Mike’s lower back, up his torso, past his chest, around the back of Mike’s head to brush the nape of his neck, through Mike’s long hair, then back down to grope Mike’s ass. Mike squeaked into Will’s mouth, and he responded with a low hum of a laugh that sent vibrations through Mike’s body and set him ablaze. Mike lowered his grip on Will’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing them the way he’d wanted to since Will opened the door earlier that morning. Will broke the kiss then, smirking up at the taller man. “You really like my arms, don’t you?”

“Yeah, how’d you notice?” Mike tried to be sarcastic, but ended up sounding breathless. Will pressed a chaste kiss to Mike’s lips, turning them around and backing Mike up until his calves hit the base of Will’s bed. Mike was sure he had died and gone to heaven.

“You wouldn’t stop ogling. You were being so fucking obvious, it was hilarious,” Will teased, and Mike whined a little in embarrassment, but Will was having none of it, so he pushed Mike backwards until his back hit the mattress. “Don’t worry, babe, it was cute.”

Babe. Mike had thought Will would only call him that in his dreams. But this wasn’t a dream. Mike watched as Will climbed on top of him, one leg on either side of his waist, and leaned down to kiss him, nice and slow. Mike ran his tongue along Will’s lower lip, and he let Mike in immediately. They continued like that for a few minutes until Will lifted Mike’s arms up so they were pinned above his head, and Mike quietly moaned as Will began to kiss down his neck. He smiled at the ceiling. Mike Wheeler loved Will Byers, and Will Byers loved Mike Wheeler. All was right with the world.

But Mike would have a lot to explain over Christmas.

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Strike!

Based on an ask from @lumoschild. I know this isn't quite the prompt you shared but I hope you like it regardless! Please leave your thoughts in the comments below!

~*~*~*~

As soon as Steve woke up, he knew it was going to be a good day. The sunlight was streaming in through the shades of his window and Eddie was laying in his arms lightly snoring with drool dripping from one side of his open mouth. The image should’ve been disgusting, Eddie looked like a disgruntled furball and sounded like a trash compactor with morning breath that threatened to singe his nose hairs. But Steve had never felt so grounded, so sure that something was right. Steve was looking forward to a quiet day cuddling his boyfriend in bed and taking advantage of their first day off of work all week. Nothing could go wrong. 

As soon as he had that thought, he mentally kicked himself. He should know better than to tempt the universe by now. After everything that had happened over the years, one would assume that he would refrain from tempting fate. As such, the doorbell rang and shocked both him and Eddie. 

Eddie’s snores cut off immediately and he sat up in bed with a hoarse, “who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know. Stay here, I’ll get rid of them. If it’s the kids, I might literally kill them.” Steve pulled the warm and comfortable covers off his legs and started searching for a pair of jeans. He could only find Eddie’s but he was just going to deal with it, whoever wanted to disturb him at 11 AM on a Saturday didn’t deserve to see him in jeans that weren’t torn to shreds. 

Eddie plopped back onto the pillow face first and groaned. “I’ll help. Come back quick.”

Steve chuckled slightly before the doorbell rang again. “Son of a bitch! I’m coming, Jesus Christ.”

He didn’t get a chance to pull on a shirt between the annoyance, feeling tired, and getting distracted by Eddie’s sleepy voice. It was probably some neighbor being nosy or some boy scouts trying to sell popcorn or something. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting to see Hopper standing outside his door.

“Hey kid, morning! I’ve decided that you’re coming with us for bowling today. Let’s go,” Hopper said without waiting for a reply. 

“Wha- um no. Look, I’m flattered but I have plans today. Maybe next time,” Steve said apologetically. 

“Steve, you’re coming. I don’t care if I have to kidnap your ass, you’re coming bowling with us whether you like it or not.”

“Hop, what the hell? Why is kidnapping your answer for everything? That’s not normal, you might need to go to therapy or something. Maybe do that instead of bowling,” he shifted to 

close the door and escape this conversation but unfortunately, that brought Hopper’s attention to his clavicle.

“Wait a second, Harrington. Are those hickies?” He asked in a puzzled tone. 

“Woah hey, that’s quite an accusation! Even if they are, it’s none of your business,” Steve shifted more behind the door to hide his rapidly flushing chest. 

“Are they not? I didn’t know you were seeing someone, why didn’t you bring them to the family dinner on Wednesday?”

“Look, I’m uncomfortable with this conversation. Can we please not talk about this?” Steve begged him. Good god, if Hopper tried to give him the sex talk, he might actually die of embarrassment. 

“Why are you being secretive? I’m just trying to be involved in your life. Tell me who you’re seeing!”

Eddie chose that moment to climb down the stairs. He appeared behind Steve’s shoulder with a cheeky, “you called?” 

Steve thought Hopper might be having a stroke. His eyebrow spasmed as he took in Steve in Eddie’s jeans and Eddie in Steve’s polo. He jerked his eyes back to Steve and bellowed, “Eddie Munson?! You’re seeing Eddie Munson?!”

“Hey! You don’t give this much crap to El and she’s dating Mike Wheeler. Eddie’s a lot better than Mike Wheeler!” Steve defended. 

“Munson’s a drug dealer!” Hopper yelled in response. 

Eddie and Steve spoke at the same time. 

“Allegedly!”

“He’s retired!”

They both looked at each other for a moment. Those were two rather conflicting answers they gave there…

Hopper just sighed, deeply. “Look, the kids really want you to come with us to bowling. Munson can come too, I guess. Go get dressed and no funny business!”

Both boys looked at each other again and shrugged. Hey, it worked for them and it seemed that Hopper was taking this well. So, they both got dressed and brushed their teeth and hair in a hurry. When they got back downstairs, Hopper glared at the two of them. 

“Let’s go, we’re on a time limit. I was supposed to be back with you half an hour ago.”

“Well now Eddie is coming too so it’ll be a good surprise. They won’t even notice that you’re late.” Steve told him placatingly. 

“Oh, Eddie was a surprise alright,” He muttered and glared at him once again. Steve was right, he was better than Mike Wheeler but not by much. 

They met the others at the bowling alley to find them all ready to play with their bowling shoes on and all. Jonathan and Joyce were fiddling with a plate of wings, El was staring hard at her watch, and Will was glancing at Steve and Eddie in confusion. He nudged El who narrowed her eyes upon visage of them. 

“You are late. You were supposed to be here at 11:45 but it is 12:15,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“Don’t blame me, kid. This is all on Steve.”

“What?! No! I didn’t even know you guys had plans to go bowling today, you kidnapped me again! And Eddie too!” He defended himself.

Joyce smiled over at them when she heard his defensive rants. “Hello boys, are you ready to play?”

“Of course, Mrs. Byers. I brought my A-game and my good luck charm,” he boasted while looking at Steve. Steve blushed in response and he thought he heard Hopper gag at his words. 

“Bring it,” Jonathan challenged him. 

They had a great time bowling as a family. Eddie did indeed win to the surprise of everyone there. Hopper was boisterous in his claims of cheating and bowling integrity but everyone just laughed it off. Steve tried not to notice El wiping her nose after his turns or Eddie slipping her a few dollars when they were leaving the alley. 

After dinner that night, Hopper pulled Steve aside to let him know that he supported him dating Eddie and that he would support him in everything he did. He took news of Steve being bisexual surprisingly well and Steve felt lucky he had a dad like him that would accept him no matter what.

(He did pull Eddie aside later to tell him if he ever saw another hickey on his son, there would be hell to pay. But other than that, he took the news very well.)

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