#the way he needs nancy to reassure him that will still wants to be around him is

[kittenkatbar]

i FINALLY picked up a few of the comics and the way mike is so distraught and worried about will just ruins me

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #st comics #stranger things comics #stranger things #my heart #mike wheeler i know what you are #the way he needs nancy to reassure him that will still wants to be around him is #ow #but sweet

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

About twenty minutes into the hike, Steve hears Eddie’s breathing change.

They’re bringing up the rear, but they’re still close enough for some of the group’s conversations to be within earshot—Robin and Nancy leading in a silently agreed upon formation, despite Dustin holding the compass. That way, no matter what, the kids are shielded.

Speaking of the kids, they’re currently having a passionate discussion about who among them will reach the Gate the fastest—and yeah, there’s not a chance in hell that’s happening, Steve thinks, but they don’t need to know that yet.

It’s when the debate specifically turns to who’s the best swimmer that he notices the switch in Eddie’s breathing, air sucked in through clenched teeth. A glance behind confirms Steve’s suspicions; Eddie’s breaking away from the party, his face white, eyes steadfastly on the forest floor.

Steve leaves him be, doesn’t draw any attention to it—but he keeps watch in his peripheral, so he spots exactly when Eddie staggers off, soon swallowed up by the trees. He can still hear his footsteps, though, which is reassuring.

Slowly, making sure it seems casual, Steve bends down and picks up the smallest rock he can find, rubs his thumb across it to make sure the edges are smooth enough.

He throws, hits his target: the back of Dustin’s head.

Predictably, Dustin whirls around, mouth already open to voice his indignation.

Steve quickly puts a finger to his lips.

While Dustin doesn’t look all that thrilled about it, he obligingly stays silent. He’s damn quick on the uptake, of course; Steve can see the spark of understanding in his eyes when he notices that Eddie is missing.

He steps forward with urgency, but Steve’s just as quick to shake his head.

No, it’s okay. I’m on it.

He knows it’s not a coincidence that Eddie left so quietly—that having the kids see him in another moment of vulnerability is probably too much to handle on top of the ongoing nightmare he’s found himself in. Steve gets it; God, if he were in Eddie’s shoes, he’d be taking any opportunity that he could to get some privacy.

Even without words, it’s obvious that Dustin wants to protest, frowning hard.

Steve raises an eyebrow meaningfully. Dude, trust me.

Dustin heaves a silent, dramatic sigh, but he nods all the same.

Steve gestures for the water bottle Dustin’s got in his backpack. Mimes for Dustin to throw it to him.

Dustin brings out the bottle, but doesn’t throw it immediately, like he’s doubtful Steve will make the catch.

Steve rolls his eyes. Seriously? Dickhead.

Dustin rolls his eyes right back.

When he throws the bottle, Steve catches it one-handed as a point of pride.

Dustin’s theatrics grow: he gasps, all slack-jawed, wide-eyed disbelief; Steve flips him off.

Then Dustin taps his watch deliberately.

Steve softens, gives him a brief thumbs up before following where Eddie went. He looks back a couple of times, reassured by the sight of Robin and Nancy stopping and rearranging themselves so the group formation is kept up in his absence.

It doesn’t take long to find Eddie. He hears him first, harsh, bitten off retching—and while that’s not exactly a surprise, the sound still makes Steve’s heart sink.

Eddie’s doubled over, leaning against a tree with one hand. Steve feels a sudden impulse to pull his hair back for him but resists it—remembers Eddie violently flinching away from any touch in the boathouse.

So he just makes sure his presence is nice and obvious without being overwhelming—takes leisurely, even footsteps. He sits down opposite, just close enough that Eddie could reach out if he needed to.

But he doesn’t. He’s barely stopped retching before he’s trying to straighten up, grip slipping against the bark. Steve winces at the thought of splinters digging into his palm.

“Woah, man, take it easy—”

“M’fine,” Eddie mutters. He scoffs harshly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s shaking. “This is kinda normal for me now.”

His head’s still half bowed, hair falling across his face like he doesn’t want to be seen. It doesn’t stop Steve from noticing the evidence of tears on his face; he thinks they’re simply from the exertion of throwing up, but he can’t be sure.

“Just—just give yourself a minute,” Steve says. “We’ve got time.”

He stretches out right there on the ground, slow and deliberate. It takes a second or two before Eddie—after another wobbly attempt at standing—mirrors him: sinking down until he’s sat, back pressed up against the tree trunk.

Steve listens to his breathing. It’s lost that nauseated gritted teeth sound, but it hitches once, twice, and then—

“I can’t stop—” Eddie covers his face with his hands.

Steve shuffles closer. “You’re okay.”

But Eddie shakes his head. He drops his hands, leans his head back against the tree. His eyes are distant. Haunted. Steve doesn’t need to guess about what he’s seeing.

“Eddie—”

“You know the funniest thing?” Eddie gasps out, like it isn’t funny at all. “I keep thinking if—if only I hadn’t ditched swimming lessons, I might’ve l-learned something fucking useful.”

At a loss for what to say, Steve tries for something normal. Thinks back to high school, something far away from all of this…

“You showed up to swimming,” he says. “I remember.”

He does, though it’s faint.

Honestly, he spent as little time as he could changing in the showers, wanting to make the most out of time in the pool. He didn’t even goof off with Tommy H or any of the other guys, preferring to do solo laps in the deep end. It was repetitive, calming; he treated it like a vacation from the adrenaline of being on the swim team.

Then came that November, and the whole routine became an escape from much more.

Eddie gives him a look that might’ve passed for amusement at one point, if his breathing wasn’t still so shallow.

“Yeah, I—I showed up for, like, the first week, Harrington. Fucking Lewinsky stole my clothes, you only let that kinda thing happen once.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says sincerely. “I didn’t know.”

A wan flicker of a smile passes across Eddie’s face. “Of course you didn’t,” he says. It’s not an accusation. “You were, like, way too busy being part fish.”

Steve huffs a laugh through his nose, but Eddie doesn’t join in. Instead his breathing quickens, like the distraction of high school hasn’t been nearly enough.

“It’s just—I should’ve been more—should’ve known h-how to—” He shakes his head again. Swallows. “After Chr—”

He chokes on her name.

Steve reaches out, only to hesitate and leave his hand hovering in the air between them. “Hey, man, there’s nothing you could’ve—”

“What if it’s not a coincidence?” Eddie whispers. “What if there’s—there’s a… there’s gotta be a reason that—that it’s me.”

Steve moves closer still. Draws back at the last second; Eddie’s still trembling.

“That’s bullshit,” Steve says firmly.

Eddie laughs bitterly. “Is it? D-don’t fucking kid yourself, Harrington, s’not exactly looking good. Two people died r-right in front of me, and I just…” He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I’d arrest me.”

“Stop, would you just—”

“Come on, man. You’ve gotta know, even if Wheeler and Buckley are still too polite to say it.” Eddie’s voice is soft in resignation. “I’m just wasting your time.”

It’s Steve’s turn to scoff. “Do you seriously think we’d be doing all of this if we thought you were a lost cause?”

Eddie shrugs, the sleeves of his leather jacket scraping against the bark. “There’s only so many signs a guy can ignore, right? Hell, even my watch has stopped, like I’m literally outta fucking time.”

“Okay, no wonder you failed English,” Steve says, “that is overwrought as shit, dude.”

The jab doesn’t quite land—his barely concealed worry just makes him sound sharp. Fraught.

But Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise, and he finally seems speechless, and this is it, Steve realises, the one chance he has to get through to him.

“Nothing prepares you for this shit, Eddie,” he says—thinks of 1983, of seeing the impossible. Terrified out of his mind. “I mean it, there’s nothing you could’ve done. Nothing,” he adds pointedly, when it looks like Eddie might protest. “Chrissy, Patrick, it’s fucking awful what they—but it’s not—not a, um. Not a reflection on—it’s not your fault.”

It’s not enough, Steve knows it—feels acutely like a shitty school guidance counsellor, only able to parrot empty platitudes. He has to dig deeper.

He looks at Eddie directly, unflinching. Can read the fear lurking in his eyes, the one he keeps dancing around.

A fierce emotion floods Steve’s chest—like being flung into the deep end without warning, the water already over your head before you can take a breath.

He’s felt it before, mixed up in a wave of anger as he watched Powell raise that goddamn picture to the camera.

Don’t you go believing a word this town says about you, Eddie Munson. Don’t you dare.

Steve braves a touch, places a hand on Eddie’s knee. Eddie doesn’t move.

“You’re not the curse, Eddie. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Eddie shudders. He looks away, but not quick enough to hide the definite tears this time.

Steve waits. He doesn’t move his hand for a long moment.

When Eddie’s finished roughly wiping at his face with his sleeve, Steve hands over the water bottle. He’s silently relieved that Eddie takes it without a fight, like accepting even this smallest amount of help means there’s still a part of him that hasn’t given up yet.

There’s still hope.

After a few sips, Eddie sets the water bottle aside. He’s breathing deeper now, and when he looks up, his eyes have that keen, almost analytical gaze.

“What’s…?” he murmurs, and then he’s the one that’s reaching out, as if without thinking, fingertips lightly brushing against Steve’s forehead.

He feels cold, Steve thinks. Like he’s still half frozen from falling into the lake.

“Did you… cut yourself on something?” Eddie says.

Steve’s about to say no automatically before he remembers.

“Right, yeah. Um, our flashlights kinda… exploded when…”

He trails off. Watches with sympathy as Eddie fills in the gaps.

“Oh,” Eddie says very quietly.

He keeps following the trail of the cut—Steve can still feel the chill of him: the light pressure travelling across his skin, like Eddie needs the motion to stay calm.

“Ow,” Eddie says, hushed, almost as if it happened to him, too. “You’re lucky you didn’t get glass in your eye, dude.”

Steve doesn’t say what he’s thinking—that he’d have dealt with it, that he would’ve been fine—because he thinks he understands: that maybe by focusing on something small, it helps keep Eddie here, temporarily blocks out the sight of Chrissy and Patrick’s deaths.

He checks his watch. They’re just creeping up on fifteen minutes; they’d better make tracks soon.

He stands but not abruptly, conscious of not rushing Eddie unnecessarily.

“If we cut across, uh, this way,” he demonstrates with one hand as Eddie gets to his feet, “we’ll catch up pretty quick. Don’t need Henderson’s compass to tell me the way. Honestly, he acts like he knows places better than me when I’ve known them, like, all my life. He does it all the damn time.”

Eddie lets out a laugh that still sounds slightly wet; he sniffs as if to cover up the sound. His smile is shaky at best, but it seems genuine.

“Man, he does that to me, too. What is up with that? Last week, he swore he found some shortcut to the Hellfire room that I’d be totally unaware of, like I’ve not spent forever in the damn building.”

He falls into step with Steve as they walk on, and Steve catches the very slight grimace he makes as he swallows.

Steve checks his jeans pocket. It turns out luck is on his side, at least for this: he’s got a couple of mints, still unwrapped.

When he offers some to Eddie, he gets a heartfelt thanks in reply. But at the same time, Eddie also looks suspiciously close to fighting a smirk.

“What?”

“Nothing!” But the smirk’s definitely won; Eddie tucks the mint into the corner of his mouth as he says, “Just didn’t realise I was getting the full Skull Rock experience.”

It takes a second for Steve to catch on. “The experience—?”

Eddie’s smirk grows. “Your reputation precedes you.”

Steve snorts. “Fuck off, are you twelve?”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, halfway to singsong.

Steve shakes his head, half in amusement, half in thought. Sharing juvenile kisses with girls at Skull Rock feels a world away, almost like it happened to someone else. That’s not even why the mints were in his pocket in the first place—not that he’s gonna put a dampener on Eddie’s teasing or anything. In truth, the habit began the night after Starcourt, using a mint—despite his stinging mouth—to help keep himself awake.

Of course he doesn’t say all of that. Chooses instead to nudge Eddie in the side, fighting a smirk of his own.

Eddie acts like he’s been dramatically winded in response, makes a crack about how that move wouldn’t fall under the Skull Rock experience.

Steve thinks he’s getting a handle on how to read him, charting the improvement of his mood through just how stupid he sounds—when smiling no longer seems like it’ll fracture his face from the strain.

By the time they catch up with the others, they’re both stifling laughter (Steve keeps having to remind himself that this is technically a stealth mission), Eddie reaching across to mess with Steve’s hair in retaliation for being repeatedly nudged in the ribs. His hands feel warmer now, Steve realises with a smile, as he pushes Eddie back with a forearm against his chest.

For the most part, it looks like their disappearances haven’t been noticed—Nancy quietly moving to rejoin Robin at the front as if by chance. Steve knows better, knows everything has been carefully coordinated to look that way; as Eddie relaxes at his side, he feels a rush of gratitude for the group’s tact.

Granted, Dustin kind of breaks the illusion when he turns around and starts walking backwards—but what he lacks in subtlety he makes up for in entertainment: using needlessly big, questioning gestures, brow furrowed in concentration.

When Dustin widens his eyes impatiently, Steve relents and nudges Eddie again. “He’s not gonna stop til you respond, trust me.”

“Hmm? Oh.”

Eddie lifts up Dustin’s water bottle with a grin and gives a thumbs up with his free hand.

Dustin brightens, replying with a thumbs up of his own—still stubbornly walking backwards like it’s simply his preferred way to travel.

“Gonna bet on how long it takes for him to fall flat on his face?” Steve says in an undertone.

Eddie snorts in a way that can’t be disguised as anything else, though he gives it a shot with the world’s least convincing cough. He gives up in the next breath, chuckling through a, “Steve,” in joking disapproval, like Steve’s such a terrible influence, which just sets them both off again.

Dustin’s probably too far away to hear them properly, but he’s clearly got the gist, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He does a series of emphatic gestures that Steve can’t make sense of; it just looks like he’s doing a complicated mime for charades.

Eddie must get the same impression because he soon calls out with a shit-eating grin, “Book or movie?”

Dustin flips them both off, but he can’t quite pull off the deadpan expression, his lips twitching, and Steve knows for sure that he’s hiding a laugh when he turns back around to walk with Max and Lucas.

Eddie smiles as if he’s noticed the same thing. He jostles their shoulders one last time, and it feels like there’s something more intentional behind it. A touch that lingers.

It’s easy when there’s still a long walk ahead of them—when there’s still daylight—to be convinced that they’ve got all the time in the world. Steve’s become kind of an expert at it: in his head, he could make swimming lessons last forever.

But even that old trick doesn’t last; he feels the clock restart as soon as that damn vine wraps around his ankle, cold and unyielding.

In the split second before being dragged under the lake, all he can think is thank God the kids aren’t here.

The thought follows him all the way into The Upside Down—later joined by the fervent wish that he could somehow summon up Dustin’s water bottle, as his head spins through the hopefully staunched bat bites.

“Christ, Harrington,” Eddie says when the dizziness persists, and Steve barely catches himself before falling against a vineless tree. “D’you ever take your own advice?”

“What?” Steve says faintly.

He screws up his eyes, forces himself to blink until his vision doesn’t waver—braces his weight against the tree with a sigh, ready to push himself up—

But Eddie’s hand is suddenly on top of his, halting him.

“Just… wait,” Eddie says. “Just a minute.”

Steve doesn’t know if it is a minute; he tries to keep track in his head, but the seconds slip away from him, and all he can focus on is each breath he takes, until they lose that gasping edge, grow deeper. Slower.

The world sharpens around him, like he’s been underwater without realising and has finally broken through to the surface. He feels the muted scratch of damp wood beneath his palm. The pressure of Eddie’s hand—not enough to hurt, but enough for Steve to tell that he’s still freaked out.

“I’m okay,” he says, looking Eddie in the eye. Does his best to silently project the sentiment of I’m not gonna collapse on you, I promise. “We’re not far from Nancy’s place.”

He can see a flicker of light just ahead, off to the side—thankfully not spots in his vision, just the flashlight he gave to Robin and Nancy; he’d tried to make it sound like he was doing them a favour when he actually thought it’d be best to leave both his hands free, just in case he did end up collapsing. At least he’d have a chance to brace for a fall.

There’s an uncertain air to how the girls are walking, and Steve suspects they feel a little like him: at a loss without the kids sandwiched between them. Now the usual priorities are thrown to the wind; what do you do when you want to shield everyone, all at once?

Eddie’s surveying him like he’s far from convinced by his definition of ‘okay.’

Still, he laughs weakly and says, “Good to know your navigating skills still work in this fucking hellhole.”

Steve’s hand shifts beneath Eddie’s as he stands up properly; it’s only then that Eddie moves away.

“Not far, not far,” he’s muttering under his breath, like he’s trying to reassure himself. His voice cracks in quiet desperation, “God, how long have we even been down here?”

Steve glances down to his wrist. He’s met with a watch face that’s smashed, jagged cracks running through it so he can’t even read the time it must’ve stopped at.

“Hey,” Steve says wryly, tilting his wrist so Eddie can see, “we match.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even crack a smile. His eyes just go all big and dismayed, like he’s looking at something far worse than a broken watch.

Steve suddenly wants to tell him that it’s fine, to cover up his wrist like it’s somehow more gruesome than the wounds on his stomach—maybe it is, because Eddie keeps staring like he’s bleeding out right in front of him.

“Shit, Steve,” Eddie whispers with this horrible, helpless little laugh—almost like he’s on the verge of tears. He sounds like he did after throwing up, trying to say that something was funny when it was anything but. “You’ve had that forever.”

And Steve feels a rush of something still too big and complex to name, flickers of emotion too rapid to keep track of: the initial pang of sadness he’d pushed aside because the watch had been his grandfather’s, after all; wondering faintly what classes Eddie had shared with him, that would allow him enough time to notice something so small, you’ve had that forever—

So what? Steve thinks. So what, what does it fucking matter?

He’d rip the watch off if it’d help, Eddie’s too, stamp and grind them down until they’re indistinguishable from the ash in this place, and who gives a shit if it’s overwrought, it doesn’t have to mean anything—they still have time; they’re owed it.

He doesn’t do any of that, because the ground shakes again, and he’s ready—anticipates the stumble Eddie makes and reaches out to correct it.

They land safely away from any vines.

Eddie’s hand is clamped around his wrist, right at the part where the watch strap used to rub against his skin—back in sophomore year, when he’d always put it on too tight in fear of losing it; “Sorry, sorry,” Eddie’s mouthing, out of breath from the fall, but Steve’s holding on just as tightly, can feel Eddie’s pulse thundering beneath his fingertips.

And it’s so fast and frantic that Steve thinks he can hear it, too, a sound that he can’t get away from, in spite of it all: like a clock ticking. Counting down.

WRIST WATCH The explosive time shackle That never goes off Eternal zero Synchronize your deaths —Philip Murray

#s4 missing scenes we are so back baby #the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[rogueddie]

Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.

A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.

“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.

“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”

“I promise?”

“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”

Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...

“Munson?”

“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”

“Yeah, sure.”

She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.

His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.

"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"

"Questions?"

"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.

Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.

"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"

"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"

"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."

"Date of birth?"

"April 29th, 1967."

"Do you know what todays date is?"

"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"

"Almost three weeks, yes."

"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"

She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.

"The year?"

"Uh... 1983?"

She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.

He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.

"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."

"Wait! What- am I ok?"

"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."

Amnesia, his doctor explains.

Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.

But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.

The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.

"We're... close?" He asks her.

"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."

"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."

"How could I not? You're hilarious!"

"What? We never-"

"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."

"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"

"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."

Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.

"Steve!" He yells.

The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.

"Uh, hi?"

"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"

"He is right here, you know."

"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.

"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.

"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"

"Tell us about... what?"

He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"

"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"

"So you... don't remember me."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine," he lies.

Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.

"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"

"Which room?"

"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"

"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.

Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.

"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."

"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.

"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."

"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"

Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."

"What? It's been years!"

"It's not that simple."

"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"

"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."

"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"

"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."

Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.

"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"

He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.

"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"

Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."

"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."

"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"

"Hey-"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #steddie fic #ficlet #hurtcomfort

[underoossss]

can I request a hurt/comfort with steve, where maybe the reader gets hurt in the upside-down and he is taking care of her? you are one of my favorite steve blogs!

I love a good old hurt comfort!!! And this time though r is hurt Steve is getting comfort cause that boy sure blames himself for no apparent reason. You’re so sweet thank you! It means the world to me you like the stories I write for y’all💖 I hope you like this! 1k.

••••

“I can’t lose her!”

Steve’s scream still echoes at the back of your mind, fuzzy and distant but it’s still there. The panic, the pain, the anger, they’re all there burned in your brain. You were in a dizzy state, half present and half gone after your last trip to the upside down had left you with a pierced leg and a bleeding wound. Vecna was gone which is all that mattered, yet instead of celebrating Steve hovered over you making a makeshift tourniquet for your leg with his belt – Nancy and Robin trying their best to calm him down. That's when he snapped, voice raw and cracking with emotion; it was clear he didn't mean to, but if you were in his shoes you're sure you'd have done the same. You wanted to reassure him, tell him you were fine, but things were hazy after that.

Steve's quiet now, lying down on his bed next to you.

His torso is bandaged just like your leg; his wounds clean and treated, yours got ten stitches covered with two layers of gauze and clear medical tape. He's done nothing but look after you since you got back, making sure you had everything you needed, driving you to his place and helping you get upstairs. He even washed your hair, gentle and caring and careful, pretending he's alright when you know he isn't. His hands still shake no matter how much you hold onto them, you can tell he's holding back tears from the way he clears his throat before speaking. Yet he only wants to take care of you.

"You should try to get some rest." Steve says, one hand gentle on your cheek as his thumb rubs softly at your skin. "It's late."

You glance sideways at him, his face is golden in the glow of the nightstand lamp. Hair almost dry from his shower earlier, eyes red-rimmed, a soft grin that's holding everything back. You know this boy the same way he knows you. "I can't sleep lying on my back." You whisper over a frown.

"We can figure it out." Steve's smile is a fraction more genuine this time, always happy to help you. "Here, let me sit up."

It takes some minutes but Steve rearranges the pillows and helps you sit up, mindful of your injured leg. He lies back against the headboard with you slumped sideways against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and patched up leg extended in front of you. It's not the most comfortable position but it's better than before, especially now that you have your arms around Steve.

"I'm not hurting you?" You ask quietly, closing your eyes at Steve's touch rubbing up and down your arm.

"No," You feel Steve shake his head. "I like this better."

You snuggle closer to him, wanting to be as much as possible as someone who thought would lose the other only hours ago. Steve hums and kisses your temple which makes you look up at him. When you see the tears he's holding back, you break.

"I'm so sorry Stevie." You mumble through an aching throat. "I didn't mean to get hurt and scare you like that."

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. "You don't have to say sorry."

"I wanted to tell you I would be okay, reassure you that I would be." Your words are rushed through your tears, lips pulling downwards with sorrow. "It all happened so fast."

Steve's arms go around you and pull you closer, his shoulder shaking as he cries into your hair. You'd squeeze him tight in return if he wasn't injured, so you settle for kissing the middle of his chest as you cry with him. The idea of the roles being reversed makes your blood freeze with panic. "I thought I was going to lose you." Steve confesses, "I don't think I've ever been so scared."

"You'll never lose me." You pull pack to look at him in the eyes, red and full of tears just like yours. "I will always fight to stay by your side, Steve. I can't even imagine being without you; if I can keep you from going through that, you know I will. Just like I know you'd fight too."

Steve closes his eyes and nods, "Every time."

You grab his face in both your hands. "I love you, so much."

He looks calmer when he opens his eyes, still shaken but better than before. "I love you too."

"Tell me what you need?" You ask in a whisper, wiping the last of his tears away and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Please, if I can make it better I'd like to."

"I just need you." Steve brings you towards his chest again with his arms around your waist. "This is all I need."

You look up at him and smile when you see some of that previous fear melt away from his face. Your beautiful boy slowly becoming himself again. "I can give you a kiss too. I don't think we've ever gone this long without kissing you know."

"Tell me about it." Steve's smile appears then, before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x fem!reader

[marvelsswansong]

gold rush

summary: Eddie's known you his whole life. He's your best friend. In truth, he wants to be your boyfriend - he wants to call you his without it being a joke and to kiss you when you're sober. But everyone loves you and wants you: he doesn't like a gold rush.

tags: Eddie x gn!reader (everyone can read!!!), childbood best friends to lovers, slow burn, pining!Eddie, 18+ reader (impli. in twenties), smidge off canon, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, oneshot

☆ word count: 16.3K+ ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

There's smudges of buttercream frosting by the corners of your lips.

But you're too busy to notice the mess on your face when you're racing Robin to the end of the block, both of you stumbling around like a couple of drunkards, hysterical giggles filling the air after having spun around in circles twenty times. It takes a full thirty seconds before you shove her away and begin to make a run for the end of the block, your sprint only further fuelled by the excited screaming from the kids.

It's your birthday.

You'd insisted - no, pleaded, really - to everyone that there's no need for a celebration. Eddie still remembers the sour expression your face twisted into when Joyce gently suggested throwing you a birthday party to celebrate, and the way you'd then firmly assured her and Hopper that it was enough that they'd even remembered that it was your birthday in a week.

"It's seriously nothing, Joyce." you'd emphasized, setting down your fork with a shy smile. The older woman only huffed at that, wholly unconvinced.

"Your birthday is not nothing, (Y/n), it's a special day that only occurs once a year. We should celebrate! And don't worry, we can organize it all here." Joyce had firmly insisted, casting a sideway glance to Hopper for support. He simply nodded in silence from next to her, right leg idly bouncing up and down as he took another sip of his beer.

Noticing that your hesitant expression wasn't fading, Eddie made it a point to knock his knees with yours to grab your attention, soothing your anxieties by squeezing your hands under the table.

"Come on, sunshine. When's the last time you had a proper birthday in Hawkins since you started university? Besides, we could invite all the kids and our mutual friends... everyone under one roof for the day?"

With all of them gazing at you intently - Hopper raising his eyebrows in a "come on, just say yes" manner, an eager glint in Joyce's warm eyes, and a reassuring grin on Eddie's lips - you had relented, sighing deeply but the shadow of a smile on your face giving your true feelings away.

"Alright. Yeah, Joyce, that'd be great."

In the present, Eddie's quiet thoughts are disrupted by Steve sitting down next to him on the wooden bench, a half empty beer bottle in his hands.

"I've never seen Joyce work so hard on a birthday party before. Not even for Jonathan's - though don't tell him I said that." Steve jokes, chuckling lowly under his breath. Eddie has to agree with his friend that the woman has gone above and beyond.

Hopper and Jonathan are by the barbeque grill, cooking and wiping away sweat away from their foreheads, Nancy and Joyce are sitting by the outdoor swings nursing lemonades in their hands, and the kids (alongside you and Robin) are engaging in silly games by the street - rogue soccer balls, baseball bats and bicycles littered on the lawn.

The backyard of the Wheeler's house is spilling with birthday decorations, from brightly colored balloons wrapped around every piece of furniture to string lights and banners sprawled across the fences, growing from the sides as if they're vines. There are bean bags on the lawn next to picnic tables filled with a wide assortment of food and drinks, a handheld radio the centrepiece blasting a top 40 hit.

Flicking away a stray balloon knocking into his side - of golden color, with the words "happy birthday!" scribbled on it in sharpie - Eddie nods along to Steve's comments absentmindedly.

"Yeah, she really did go all out."

Steve chuckles.

"I even overheard from the conversation happening by the grill that Joyce's even going to bring out an outdoor projector to screen a movie later. I don't even know how she managed to set all that up last minute."

Eddie's trying to be polite and stay tuned into the conversation, but his gaze continues to drift to you, consciously or not. You're standing hunched over, hands on bruised knees with harsh pants coming out of your mouth from the intense sprint you just took off on, as Max and El make fun of how wild your hair looks now. You scowl playfully and threaten to chase them next, to which they say something back that Eddie can't hear (knowing them and based on the look of fake shock on your face, he guesses it's a sassy retort) before you set them off running in full speeds, giggling.

"You could just go over and join them instead of staring." Steve jokes, noticing that the metalhead's attentions are elsewhere. Eddie smiles an embarrassed grin at that, his fingers clenching ever so slightly around the gift and letter sitting on his lap, to which Steve's brown eyes fall onto next. "Oh, the gift pile is over there, here, let me help-"

Steve leans over to take the neatly wrapped box and manila envelope to match from Eddie's grasp, to which the taller boy only flinches and instinctively bring the items closer to his chest.

"No, it's fine! I uh, I want to be holding onto these for the party." he quickly rambles out, ignoring the way Steve's face scrunches up in confusion.

"You sure?"

"Yep! Positive. 100% positive, actually."

Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie, a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't get to ask any of them before Hopper is calling him over for help. Eddie lets out a small sigh of relief when he's alone again, incredibly happy to not be subject to interrogation as to why he's so protective of the gift and the letter on his lap.

Truth be told, it's the letter that Eddie's most attached to.

He's spent the entirety of last week perfecting it, writing and rewriting certain paragraphs in odd times through the day whilst mulling over the countless moments encompassing his friendship with you, and it's the piece of paper containing his deepest confession.

He loves you.

More than a best friend should.

Despite being light as a feather, the envelope feels heavy as bricks in his hands in the present moment, the soft papery texture burning his skin as he toys with its flimsy edges, tips of his fingers running up and down the square corners. Though Eddie later (reluctantly) abandons the gift and the letter by the bench to join in on a few games between you and the kids, and to later help Joyce bring out the large birthday cake from the kitchen, his mind remains fixated on that singular piece of paper for the whole party.

Your features aglow with the red and orange embers of the flames from the birthday candles, your lashes flutter shut before your lips puck together to blow, the entire room erupting into applause and appreciative shouts when you finish. You're glowing, Eddie thinks, beaming with happiness and awe as you turn around to give Joyce a fierce embrace and Hopper a cool fist bump.

Eddie makes it a point to carry the gift and the letter with him, hidden out of sight and behind his back, as you tear open each gift during spoonfuls of red velvet cake. Once you've gone down the line opening everyone's gifts, all eyes zero in on Eddie, who sheepishly smiles and lifts up the items in his hands.

"Don't worry, I have your gift and letter here."

"Never doubted you, Eds." you affirm, holding your hands out. Eddie freezes at that, stuttering his response.

"B-but you can't open it here. You have to open it, uh, when you're alone."

The room's split in between confusion (the kids not understanding what Eddie could've possibly gotten you that would require you to have to open it in private) and a collective, amused understanding amongst the adults (smirks on Joyce and Hopper's faces, quiet whispers between Nancy and Jonathan, playful nudges between Robin and Steve).

But you seem none the wiser, a low hum and curious smile quirking up the edges of your lips.

"Ooh, mysterious. Alright then, Eds. I look forward to it."

Eddie's so damn tense on the drive back to your apartment that he's afraid he's going to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Heart beating a million miles per minute, he can hear his blood pumping right by his ears as he rounds the corner to your house, throat running dry at the realization that you're holding his letter in your lap.

"C-can I come in?" he asks, breathlessly, slapping on a quick grin to mask his mix of fear and worry. "To see your reaction to my gift and stuff."

You roll your eyes playfully at that, unstrapping the seat belt from your shoulder.

"Duh. We've been friends since we were 7 years old."

He's been over to your apartment a million times before, but suddenly the dark hallways and oak stairs seem daunting. Each footstep echoes through the silence ominously, a mocking voice reminding him with each step up the stairs that you're one step closer to opening that damn letter.

Unaware of Eddie's anxieties, you're humming a light pop song when you usher him into the bedroom, closing the door half-hazardously behind you by kicking it shut with one leg before dramatically flailing onto your bed.

"Ah, home. Just me and my bed." you groan into the sheets, stretching your tired limbs out.

"And me." your best friend adds, pretending to be offended. Your face lifts up from the comforter in response, dopey grin on your cake and champagne filled-face.

"And you. Always you, Eddie."

You sit with your legs crossed across from him, Eddie's legs dangling off the mattress as you carefully inspect the letter in the light. Your fingers move to tear it open when he stops you quickly, placing a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you mid-movement.

"W-wait. Open the gift first."

You pause, amused, raising your eyebrows.

"Isn't it usual to open the letter first before the gift?"

"Well, yeah, maybe, but... trust me, it'll make more sense later."

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth before letting the letter fall back down onto your lap.

"Alright... But seriously, this is only getting more and more mysterious."

You inspect the neatly wrapped box in your lap: the wrapping is rather imperfect, with odd scrunches at the sides and messy taping holding the wrapping together around the shape of the box. But the wrapping paper's pattern is too endearing (a cartoon shark holding an umbrella over its head) and so is the gold bow he's put on top, so you suppose it makes up for the slightly messy presentation.

"Sorry about the lame wrapping paper, it was like the only one left at the store." Eddie comments quietly, sheepish.

"Trust me, it's perfect." you assure him, winking.

Your fingers tear open the paper to see that inside is a beautiful, sleek, black polaroid camera. Taking the polaroid gently out of the box, you stare at it in shock, its weight pleasant on your hands as you twist it around to examine every feature. Underneath the box holding the polaroid, Eddie has even thrown in several pieces of film, tied together hastily with decorative string.

"Oh my god Eddie... this... this must've cost a fortune!" you ramble, looking up at him with awe. He shakes it off though, head twisting side to side in denial, signature smirk gracing his face.

"Nah. I had some money saved up from a few Corroded Coffin gigs and the internship I did a few months ago up in Idaho paid off. Besides..." he takes in a deep breath before smiling with a short exhale. "It's my best friend's birthday - I couldn't give you something small and lame."

You laugh at that, dropping the camera carefully onto your lap.

"Well, you could've gotten me a rock off the side of the street and I still would've loved it. I mean, this- this is too much." you fuss, not meeting his gaze.

"Hey. You deserve it. It's your birthday. And again, you're my best friend. Stop acting like I went into debt buying something nice for you." he jokes, poking you on the side right where you're ticklish. You squirm away from him, curses on the tip of your tongue, but you're not really mad at him.

You don't think you could ever really be mad at Eddie.

"Alright, fine. Thank you so, so, so much, Eds. You're the bestest friend ever." you mumble into his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck.

He can feel your heartbeat reverberating through your top, your signature perfume wafting over him at this proximity, a comforting smell that he inhales slowly as he returns your embrace. It doesn't last long enough for Eddie before you pull away and set the camera to the side, hands now reaching out for the letter.

"Wait." he blurts out again, and this time, you playfully roll your eyes.

"Again, Eddie? I feel like you really don't want me to read this letter for some reason."

Your voice is playful, your expression clearly being one of fond amusement, but Eddie feels as if his chest is being squeezed by invisible ropes. God, if only you had any idea as that what you were about to read, he thinks.

"Just to give you background on the letter, that's all." Eddie assures you, shuffling closer. "So, remember how on your first day back from Boston we had that conversation in the cinema? About how you thought the plot of that romantic movie we ended up watching was super unrealistic?"

You two had meant to see the newest horror movie, but ended up running late to the cinema and the ticketmaster (a bored looking teenager with wild red hair and blue eyes) droned from behind the glass that all tickets for that film were sold for the day. You glanced over at Eddie, silently asking him what to do next, and Eddie had shrugged his shoulders and suggested just seeing another film.

The only film that had any available tickets - considering that it was past 9pm on a Friday night - was a romantic comedy starring two famous actors neither of you cared much about. But eager to catch up on all the time you two missed whilst you were studying in Boston and Eddie was attending community college in Hawkins, neither of you minded.

The screening room was nearly empty, allowing you and Eddie to sit by the front (far away from the few other people in attendance) and whisper throughout the duration of the whole film. Towards the end of the film, the female protagonist began to cry as her love interest stared to declare 100 things he loved about her, and you groaned audibly and rolled your eyes.

"God, I fucking hate how unrealistic these films are." you'd complained, sinking against your cinema seat. Eddie shot you an amused glance at that, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

"Really, this is unrealistic for you? Not the non-existent sex scenes? Not the female characters always waking up with perfect hair and makeup? Not the protagonists always living in penthouses in New York on a barista's budget?" he'd teased, knocking shoulders with yours. You grunted, rolling your eyes.

"Well, all that's super unrealistic too, don't get me wrong. But come on, who the hell can name 100 things they love about someone?"

"What, you couldn't name 100 things you love about someone?" he had challenged, raising his eyebrows.

"Definitely not! Not even to like, my parents or best friends. Why, are you saying you can, Munson?" you retorted, crossing your arms. Eddie just leaned back and smirked.

"Oh, you have no idea. I definitely could. Like I could list 100 things I love about you right now."

He meant it sincerely, but you didn't seem to pick up on it - either because it was too dark in the cinema room to see how his eyes softened at the confession or because you'd become so desensitized to his honesty after a lifelong platonic friendship.

So you just snorted and raised your hands in mock defeat.

"Geez, alright then."

"I'm serious, I could!" he argued, poking you on the side to redirect your gaze towards him. You chuckled, shaking your head sideways at your best friend's antics.

"Yeah, okay. Save it for another day, okay? The old lady behind us keeps on glaring and I'm afraid she's gonna stab us if we keep on talking."

"The shitty rom com day? Yeah, of course I remember. Why?"

Eddie swallows nervously, tongue poking out to trace his bottom lip.

"I did it. I wrote down the 100 things I love about you onto that letter."

Your eyebrows raise and an impressed grin spreads on your lips.

"You actually did? Damn, I'm impressed, Munson."

"Yeah, well, considering I had basically our entire lives to draw upon, it wasn't that hard. One thing though: it's super, duper important that you read to the very end. Like, from number one to one hundred without stopping. No skipping ahead." Eddie hastily adds, fingers itching by his sides with anxiety.

You nod slowly, finally unclasping the front of the envelope as you begin to read.

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

01. your eyes - they were the first thing I noticed about you when you first spoke to me.

Eddie was seven when he first met you.

He was sulking in the playground, a couple hundred feet away from all the other kids, busy kicking a small pebble back and forth with the cement wall in boredom. He desperately wanted the school day to be over. He wasn't as tall as the other kids yet, and all the boys his age already thought that he was too weird: obsessed with music and bugs instead of cars and girls.

Lunch periods sucked the most for Eddie - at the very least, during class, he could distract himself by nodding along to the teachers and burying his mind in whatever activity he had to finish. But when released from the confines of the classroom and people naturally split off into their groups, Eddie was almost always alone.

He didn't mind too much, he supposed. It was no different from at home, where his parents and him barely spoke - him in his room unless it was time to eat, silent dinners at night with his father's head in a newspaper and his mother nursing a cigarette.

Eddie was getting ready to kick the small pebble back to the wall, right leg bracing backwards, when he suddenly felt someone's warm hand on his shoulder.

"It's a lot more fun when you kick a ball back and forth, you know. And when you do it with someone, not a wall."

He recognized that voice.

Despite having moved into Hawkins less than two weeks ago, you already had a large circle of friends and several teachers wrapped around your fingers. Star student, extrovert, popular kid.

All things Eddie certainly were not, so as to render him starstruck that THE (Y/n) (L/n) would want to speak to him.

So his first reaction was to look around the playground, expecting to see another kid kicking a pebble back and forth and to whom your comment was actually directed to, but the courtyard was practically empty. You seemingly caught on to his confusion and giggled, stepping closer to him so as to shadow the sun behind your figure.

"Yes, I'm talking to you. My name is (Y/n), by the way."

The young boy was sure there wasn't a single person in his grade who didn't know who you were. And yet here you were, having separated from the larger group of kids to specifically seek Eddie out, introducing yourself with bruised knees and a wide smile. His eyes hesitantly lifted from the floor to meet your eyes - dancing with joy, irises twinkling with a glow akin to jewels, an alluring sense of warmth exuding from your simple gaze.

He was transfixed. His left hand was slow to rise but he eventually shook your hand, gripping your fingers tightly.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n). I'm Eddie."

"Eddie." you strung his name out, as if testing how it sounded from your lips. "That's a cool name. Wanna play ball?"

You spun the soccer ball in your hands back and forth, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Sure."

And that was the start of his lifelong friendship with you.

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

13: your sense of adventure - I'll never forget how the first time I got grounded by Wayne was because you wanted to sneak out to see the meteor showers.

"Did you hear that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight?"

You'd come barreling into his trailer, not even bothering to properly knock (and only sending a polite "hello" to Wayne who was sat on the couch watching TV), startling Eddie who was devouring one science fiction comic after another.

"A hello is usually how people start conversations." Eddie had grumbled back, folding the paper comic away, though his slight annoyance melted away quickly at your obvious excitement. It was spring break and you were two bored ten year old kids constrained to the mundane life in Hawkins.

"Hello, Eddie, you look great, hope you're well, blah blah blah." you mocked, putting on an overly formal accent as you eventually walked over to his bed and shooed for him to make space for you on the mattress. Scowling (though it wasn't genuine), he obliged, allowing you to sit next to him with your legs criss crossed. "But seriously. I read in the newspaper this morning that a once in a decade meteor shower is going to happen at 11pm tomorrow."

"And?" the boy questioned, flipping his head over to the side, staring at you with mild confusion. You looked positively offended at that, folding one of his spare sci fi comics in half to hit him across the shoulder.

"AND? And we gotta sneak out to see it for ourselves, Eddie!"

Eddie sighed, lips drawn tight as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know, sounds kind of boring. Also, we technically have school tomorrow."

You pouted at that, crossing your arms in indignant disagreement.

"Aw, come on, Eds, PLEASE?"

"Why don't you go alone?"

You spluttered at his suggestion.

"ALONE? Eddie, this is a ONCE IN A DECADE occurence! Come on, as my best friend, please? I promise it'll be fun!"

Eddie suppressed another deep sigh - this was the paradox of his friendship with you.

You were this ball of energy, bright sunshine on a summery day, an extrovert who enjoyed parties, biking and spontaneous plans on a late Wednesday night. Eddie was more withdrawn, a sunflower blooming in the dark, someone who preferred to spend his free days reading comics or studying the genius of his favorite rock musicians with an open notebook and pen in hand.

Perhaps that was why you two worked together so well though. At least, that was Wayne's working theory, considering you two had been inseparable for three years at this point.

"Fine." he had grumbled and you leaped forward to hug him, crushing Eddie between your arms, making him wince.

"Sorry, sorry, I just got excited! Oh, we'll have to be super careful when sneaking out. You can bike alongside me whilst I skateboard, I know the perfect place to view the meteor shower: it's this little hill by Cornelia Park." you hurried out, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, your fingers thrumming alongside your skateboard.

"You're not sticking around?"

Eddie tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but it still laced his tone, eyebrows furrowing as he was expecting you to stick around for dinner at the least (which was routine whenever you came over).

"Can't, my cousins are visiting from out of state and my mom will kill me if I miss the family dinner. But tomorrow, I'll sneak out and be waiting for you outside your trailer at like 10:30, okay?" you said, sticking one of your pinkie fingers out at him. "Remember, Eds, you can never break a pinkie promise with me."

You warned with a serious voice, a joke that you'd been employing since last year when you'd used it to ensure Eddie would pay you back for ice cream. He rolled his eyes then and he was rolling his eyes now too, but he nonetheless wrapped his own finger around yours, sealing the deal.

"10:30 tomorrow, got you."

Eddie feigned going to bed awfully early the next day, telling a small white lie that he wasn't feeling well, and he waited dutifully until he heard the television flicker off and Wayne's breaths to even out from the other bedroom. Slowly creaking open his door, Eddie pocketed the keys sitting by the kitchen table after having quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a black jacket to fight off the autumn cold.

As you'd promised, you were waiting for him outside, skateboard tucked securely under your left arm, wide awake smile on your face as you excitedly waved him over.

"Alright, let me get my bike first, relax." he'd teased, unchaining his bicycle from a nearby tree as you excitedly jumped up and down on the balls of your feet.

"Come onnnnn, Eds! I don't want to miss the beginning."

"I don't think it's even possible to miss out the beginning of a natural occurrence." he'd countered, but your cheery disposition wasn't affected.

"Alright grumpy pants, let's get going."

He followed behind you carefully - night wind whipping through his hair, pale moonlight illuminating the cracks between oak trees and ink black roads - before you slowed down by the entrance to the park. You hopped off your skateboard and Eddie chose to walk alongside his bike whilst making small talk, with you insisting that the perfect spot to view the meteor shower was a large hill at the back of a private garden.

"Damn it, it's locked." you swore, placing one hand on the green metal gate before pulling it fiercely back and forth. A slow smirk arose on your face as you turned back at Eddie, a treacherous, mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what this means."

"(Y/n), no."

"(Y/n), yes. We're climbing over the gate."

Before he could even stop you, you had thrown your skateboard overboard and started climbing the metal fence. To your credit, it wasn't a particularly difficult task - your left foot being dug between the gaps before you hoisted the rest of your body up and swung your legs over the top with ease.

"Just lock your bicycle to the side and we'll come back for it, promise." you promised from the other side, smiling at him through the gaps of the fence. Eddie ran a hand down his face, semi-regretting agreeing with you, before he relented and pointed an accusatory finger at you.

"Fine. But if we get arrested and go to jail, I'm totally blaming this on you."

"Guilty as charged, Munson."

He climbed over the fence after locking his bicycle by the side fence, though he had a bit more of a difficulty climbing it than you (with the fact that he was already taller than you by a few inches making it all the more embarrassing.) But he didn't have time to dwell on that, when the moment his shaky feet met the dirt floor, your left hand was gripping his wrist tightly and leading him further into the night.

"Come on, it's nearly 11." you cautioned, motioning to the fancy wristwatch your parents had gifted you for your tenth birthday.

The clearing you led Eddie to was beautiful - a small stream flowing underneath flower beds blooming with orange bellflowers, pink roses and white lilies, a cobblestone pathway leading up to a large hill separated by neatly trimmed hedges and plastic garden gnomes. He barely had a chance to appreciate every aspect of the small oasis before you were pushing him up the hill, flashing him a proud smile when you collapsed on top of the mound after a few minutes of climbing.

"Here we are!" you announced. "Perfect view of the night sky."

Eddie wordlessly sat next to you, knees closed together and drawn to his chest, catching his breath whilst staring up at the the empty night sky. After a few moments of silence, he frowned, and he was getting ready to ask you if you were sure that you'd read the paper correctly.

And that was when the first shooting star crossed the sky. A bright, brilliant flash of light which soared from one edge of the sky to another, it elicited a shocked gasp from you, your fingers curling around his upper arm excitedly.

"It's starting!"

After the first star, all the others followed in quick succession, decorating the inky black landscape with stunning bursts of white light. Eddie had to admit, it was an incredible sight to see, and at some point you'd snuck closer towards him and Eddie quickly looked down to shoot you a worried glance.

"You alright?" he questioned, noticing that you were shivering next to him.

"Just peachy! A bit cold, though, didn't have the time to grab my cardigan cause I had to climb out the window." you chuckled, rubbing your upper forearms with your hands. He was quick to discard his jacket at that, wrapping the fabric around your shoulders without a second thought.

"Are you sure, Eds?" you asked, frowning, though you were grateful for the rush of warmth. He nodded, disregarding the small chill running down his back at the sudden exposure to the cold.

"Positive. I rather I be cold than you."

"Thanks, Eds. You're the best."

"That's why I'm your best friend." he teased. You chuckled, shaking your head in agreement.

"I guess so."

And then when you'd grown weary and tired, resting your head on his shoulder as he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder to make sure your head wouldn't slip off, Eddie felt a foreign sensation.

His vision was slightly hazy, rose hues glazing his irises, pleasant warmth filling his stomach as if he'd just eaten a delicious warm meal. It was a completely new feeling, your presence both simultaneously feeling like too much yet not enough, his breaths coming out at a slightly faster pace as he stared down at you.

Eddie didn't know what he was feeling, but somehow, having you rest your head against his shoulder in the dead of night... After having snuck out to climb over a fence into a private garden to watch a meteor shower with you, awoke something in him.

He didn't know what to call the feeling.

All he knew was that he liked it, and he liked being around you.

And that was enough of an answer for ten year old Eddie.

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

21: your laughter - I always like hearing you laugh. Some days, I even think it's better than Black Sabbath and Metallica.

A crush.

That was what it was, Eddie now realized, his teenage years finally giving him the language to explain what he was feeling for his best friend.

You were sitting with your legs swinging back and forth on the park bench, tongue lazily swirling around your ice cream, a celebratory treat for having gotten through - alongside Eddie - the dreadful three years of middle school.

Well, more dreadful for him than you, he supposed.

Even though in middle school Eddie had broken out of his shell much more (having discovered a love for fantasy novels, metal music and befriending a small group of boys who were also branded "nerds"), you and him were still separated by several stratospheres in the social pyramid.

You still shared a few classes with him, during which you always sat in front or behind him, for which he was always grateful. It was one of Eddie's greatest insecurities that sooner or later, you'd realize that you were too good to be with him and ditch for someone better. But you never did, even going so far as to defend him from snide comments from the other popular kids that you were "too good" to be hanging around someone like him.

Eddie often wondered if he was a burden to you: dragging you down as you swam, weighing you down as you soared higher and higher to the sun. You always laughed off such accusations, paired with a stern talking - akin to that of a disappointed parent - which emphasized how much you valued him.

Eddie still didn't really know why.

It was the summer before the start of high school, the realization which was sitting heavy in his lower stomach, mind swirling with a cacophony of anxious thoughts.

See, Eddie had spent the three years of middle school learning guitar, reading every fantasy novel he could get his hands on, and sticking by the same group of boys who had been branded as nerds from the beginning of sixth grade.

You'd spent those years becoming the captain of the swimming club, getting invited to countless parties and sleep overs, and growing up into your features.

Eddie always thought you were a nice looking person, sure. But as soon as puberty hit and his hormones began to kick in, he realized that you were growing up right in front of his eyes. Your shoulders became more defined, thighs more toned, you'd certainly grown several inches in height from that excited seven year old who'd first offered to play ball with him. Your facial features were balancing out, eyes slightly shifting in hue, lips more plump.

And fuck, you were gorgeous.

And Eddie hadn't been the only one to notice, considering how everyone either envied you or wanted to date you.

Eddie was wondering now what it must be like to grow up that beautiful as droplets of strawberry ice cream hung from the edges of your bottom lip, hair kissed with glittering sunlight streaming through the gaps of the willow tree you were sat under.

"You excited to start high school?" you'd asked him whilst wiggling your eyebrows, as if you were passing off a dirty joke that neither of you should be engaging in. Eddie blew through his lips, quickly taking a bite off of his own ice cream cone, throwing you a nonchalant shrug.

"Meh. Probably gonna be like middle school, but shittier and with more hormones."

You laughed at that, a carefree melody flowing from your throat as you threw your head back, yellow sunlight illuminating your features at the action. It was a proper laugh, a loud sound followed by echoes of giggles, eyes turning teary and stomach aching from the lack of oxygen.

It made butterflies flutter in Eddie's stomach, fingers itching to tap your nose and lips aching to kiss your cheeks, but he remained still, content to just sit back and watch you laugh at his dumb jokes.

"You're probably right. But god, it's such a big change, it's kind of scary." you had said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. "I mean, high school! Four years in a completely new place! Then we'll be off to university, then we'll have jobs, then we'll probably have families-"

"Hey, hey, relax." Eddie had to calm you down as you were speaking so fast that you forgot to breathe in between each sentence, his left hand springing up to comfortingly pat against your clothed back. "You're overthinking it."

"Very me, isn't it?" you gave him a sheepish smile, kicking up your legs to cross them underneath your arms. Eddie just smiled in acknowledgement.

"Sure is, sunshine."

You stuck your tongue out at that, face scrunching up as if you'd tasted something bitter.

"When will you stop calling me that? We're not ten anymore, Eds." you commented, referring to the fact that Eddie had been calling you by the nickname 'sunshine' since both of you were ten. His justification? You were sunny, fun, and you always 'brightened his days' - "you're basically my sunshine" he'd confessed, hands wringed together, shy grin on his lips.

"Never, sorry not sorry."

"Well then what am I supposed to call you? Seems hardly fair that I get a nickname and you don't." you paused, humming as you began to seemingly brainstorm an appropriate name in your head. "Moonshine."

"Moonshine?" he mocked, giving you an incredulous look, to which you threw your hands up dramatically.

"I-I don't know! I was just thinking like, if I was going to be called sunshine and we're such opposites, you'd be called moonshine."

"I'm pretty sure that's the name of that illegal alcohol too. You know, the spirit that's banned in the US for having an insanely high alcohol concentration?" he teased, before he nodding affirmatively. "You know what, now that I think about it, I kind of like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We're opposites - sun and moon - and I sort of dig the thought of being named after a deadly alcohol brand."

"You're hardly fatal, Munson." you'd hit back, knocking your shoulders with his.

"Eh, Wayne seems to think I am whenever I cook."

You laughed again at that, and though this time it was shorter and lighter, it still did the job of lighting his veins on fire and causing a slight blush to paint over his cheeks.

Eddie was certain that he'd say and do anything - absolutely anything - to hear you laugh at his jokes.

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

36: your honesty - it might break a lot of hearts, but it's so refreshing.

"Everything alright?" you questioned Eddie from behind, frown on your wet lips as you peeked over his shoulder to stare at the retreating jocks.

You were both sophomores now, a full two years into high school, and Eddie had been proven correct in his prediction that he'd continue to be an outcast and a weirdo whilst you dominated the popularity pyramid.

The basketball team had taken particular glee at bugging Eddie at school - knocking into him in the hallways, purposefully ignoring him during group discussions, whispering words like "freak" and "loser" whenever they passed by him. That was, of course, so long as you weren't near him. They were on their best behavior around you: student body president, head of student volunteering, varsity swim captain.

After all, you were kind of one of them - you sat with the popular kids: the varsity athletes and cheerleaders and student government members. Eddie, on the other hand, sat in the back of the lunch room with the science club nerds, with whom they discovered a mutual love for D&D after being grouped together for a Chemistry project.

"Everything's fine, don't worry your pretty little head about it, okay?" Eddie had joked at you, winking. "We still on for Friday movie night?" he added, hopefully, slamming his locker door shut. His smile fell in the fraction of a second at the unexpected sight of your sorry expression.

"Yeah, about that... I can't tonight." you'd said awkardly, scratching your neck.

"What? Your parents got you doing household chores again?"

"Oh, no, no. My parents are out of town this week. It's... something else."

You were clearly hiding something: avoiding his gaze and dragging the soles of your shoes on the floor as you wordlessly trailed behind him in the hallways, making Eddie's curiosity worsen. After all, you two were best friends, you never hid anything from each other.

"What is it? Come on, don't leave me hanging, sunshine."

You were chewing on your bottom lip, hesitant smile sparking on your face when you looked up to finally meet his worried gaze.

"I have a date tonight."

Shit.

Eddie halted his footsteps in the hallway, eyes wide and unblinking as the words soaked in, heart beginning to crack and fill with dread at the announcement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that you were well desired, he knew that you were gorgeous, he knew that it was only a matter of time before you'd had a proper date and a first kiss.

But he didn't think that day was going to be today.

And to add salt to injury, it had to be on a day where it was routine for you to come over to his place to watch a shitty VHS tape over popcorn and pizza. He loved Friday movie nights. It got him through late nights studying subjects he couldn't care less about, a distraction to hold on to as a cheerleader jeered at him or a jock roughly rustled into him by the parking lot.

"Oh. Uh, nice! Who asked you out?" Eddie had tried to come off as if he'd been unaffected, as if there wasn't now a sinking, clawing sensation in his stomach and his heart wasn't filling with black tar. His efforts to keep his face neutral and voice light paid off, as you visibly relaxed, slow grin quirking up the edges of your lips.

"Tyler."

"Tyler? As in, Tyler Peterson?" he'd spluttered in disbelief: Tyler was the complete opposite of Eddie. A muscular blonde and head of the basketball team, he was a senior with a large group of friends and a penthouse in the upper side of Hawkins. Rich, undeniably attractive and popular, the stinging pain of insecurity was beginning to prick at Eddie's skin as your grin only widened.

"Yeah, that's him. Not gonna lie, I'm surprised that he'd ask me out-"

"You can't go out on a date with him." the metalhead had quickly cut in, making you cock your head in confusion.

"Why... not?"

"Because!" Eddie shouted, his mind scrambling to find an excuse. Because in reality, it made sense that two of the most popular and attractive people in Hawkins High would go on a date. "He's a senior and you're a sophomore, yeah. It's creepy."

You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Ugh, moonshine, grow up. He's still 17 and I'm about to turn 16 in two weeks. It's not like we're breaking the law." you flicked him in the forehead, playful smirk on your lips before you continued to walk down the hallway, Eddie's footsteps quickly following behind you.

"Still! That's like, gross."

"Listen, I'm really sorry about cancelling our Friday movie night, I know you look forward to them as much as I do." you sighed, turning on your heel to stare up at him. "I'll make it up to you, okay? But I really like Tyler and I wanna give this a shot, Eddie. I mean, for fucks sake-"

You quickly looked around the vacant hallways before leaning over to whisper.

"I haven't even had a proper first kiss yet."

Eddie chose to ignore how the first thought in his mind was a sly comment - "we could kiss right now and get it out the way" - and he consciously chose instead to lower his defences, shoulders shrugging downwards at your strict tone and persistent gaze.After all, if Eddie knew anything about you, it was that you were stubborn and once you set your mind to something, he couldn't talk you out of it.

Besides, the logical voice in his mind now reprimanded him, he didn't own you. You weren't his. He'd had plenty of chances to make a move on you, to push you two over the line of friendship into love, a whole nine years in fact. And he'd never done anything. And it was selfish and unreasonable for him to want to keep you all to himself, away from other boys who also noticed your attractiveness.

You were akin to a siren, Eddie thought. Sweet voice, perfect features, alluring aura that enticed people towards you. Damn your attractiveness.

"Okay, fine. I'll leave the front door unlocked though in case you still wanna swing by afterwards."

"Aw, thanks, handsome." you'd teased, elbowing him on the side. The contact burned Eddie through his clothes, skin still tingling with hot jealousy, which he quickly distracted himself from by changing the subject to something irrelevant.

Eddie was left to sulk by himself by the sofa that night, and he was eternally grateful that Wayne was working out of state that weekend so as to not see the plight of his nephew moping around in the house alone. It undoubtedly would've resulted with Wayne grunting, placing his hands on his hips, cigarette loosely dangling from his lips as he'd ask: "where's (Y/n)?"

He didn't need any additional salt in the wound, Eddie thought.

Eddie had practically memorized every detail of Poltergeist at this point, the exact dialogue exchanged, when the jump scares occurred, when a character was going to be killed - but it was far less fun when you weren't sitting next to him, narrating out loud and giggling at his dumb jokes.

This sucked. It really, really sucked - especially since he knew that you were out probably holding hands with and leaning your head against that popular blonde, the complete antithesis to Eddie. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, Eddie just wished that he could simply melt away, the stabbing feeling of jealousy never once leaving him.

Then he heard someone knock on the door. You had opened it and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest as if you'd just been swinging by casually as planned.

"Hey." you'd offered, student president jacket draped over your shoulders, form fitting jeans hugging your thighs. "Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah." he'd muttered out, dazed, mind whirling with the million possibilities that could've led you to his trailer. After all, when he'd said you could still swing by after the date, he didn't think you would actually take the offer. Eddie figured you'd end up being driven home in Tyler's porsche or end up at the blonde's place instead, clothes discarded on his expensive penthouse bedroom floor.

"D-did you even go on the date?" Eddie spluttered, bewildered, shifting over to make space for you. Your expression soured at that, nose crinkling at the top, lips puckering.

"I did, but... it was a total bust. Turns out, we don't have much in common."

"Really?" It was impossible to hide the complete shock from his tone, in response to which you turned around and raised your eyebrows, challenging him.

"What?"

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head sideways simultaneously.

"I don't know, I just figured... you're both popular, attractive and outgoing people. Would seem like it'd be a perfect match on paper."

"Eh. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Our sense of humor totally didn't match. And honestly?" you paused, giggling softly before continuning. "Everything he said and did annoyed me. Like somehow he was the amalgamation of every flaw and quirk I hate in a person."

"Yeah?" Eddie hid his smile of pride and relief behind his hands, as you snatched the popcorn bowl from his lap and popped a kernel into your mouth.

"Yeah. So I called the date off short."

"What'd you tell him?"

"The truth, duh. That he's a nice guy but we're a total mismatch. He tried to argue otherwise, grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his car, but I just stared back and told him it was clear he was still in love with his ex anyways so he should probably just chase her."

"Huh." was all Eddie can offer in response as you flashed him another comforting grin and leaned back into the couch cushions, body loosening as your gaze fixated on the blue screen ahead.

Eddie stared down at his hands before back up to you, admiring how flickers of blue and red light passed over your face as another gruesome scene played, your jaw carved by the contrast of shadow and light dancing on your face.

It was a sight Eddie had seen a million times, but it never failed to make his heart race.

"Sorry that the date didn't work out." he whispered into the night, knees brushing up against yours.

He didn't mean it, at all.

You looked down at him with a lazy grin, shrugging your shoulders.

"Don't be, moonshine. Cause the date led me back here, didn't it? So it wasn't a total bust."

His heart fluttered at that, electricity tingling at his finger tips, as you then shuffled closer towards him to throw a blanket over both your laps. Your head on his shoulder, knees weighing against his lap as you leaned against him, all Eddie could do was nod in response.

"Definitely not."

Perhaps Eddie would be okay with you going on dates - so long as it meant more nights like this.

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

58: your "i'm thinking hard" face. I don't think you realize you do it, but when you're really concentrating on something, your eyes glaze over and lighten and you pout your lips. I love that sight.

"What're you working on?"

You looked up upon hearing Eddie's muffled question, his lips preoccupied with a large muffin as you scowled and brushed away the spare crumbs from your desk. He had insisted on coming over and "helping you" study for the senior finals, which in Eddie's terminology really meant stealing snacks from your cupboard and trying to distract you as you worked.

"Senior prom planning." you'd responded, dropping your pencil onto the desk and rubbing your forehead with your fingers to soothe the stress. "It's taking fucking forever too. There's like, a million things to still work out before next Friday."

Right, the prom. Eddie remembered seeing all the obnoxiously colorful decorations around school advertising the event, alongside the countless cheesy promposals he'd been a witness to involuntarily.

Eddie didn't have an immediate response to that, so you returned your attention to the stack of papers, your face entering a trance like zone he recognized as concentration. It evened out your features perfectly and even your slightest reflexes - biting down on the edge of a wooden pencil or flicking the square corners of the pages with your delicate fingers - made you so attractive to him.

"Well, if you're planning it, I know it's gonna be fantastic." he had offered in consolation.

"You're not going?" you whipped your head back to stare at him, shocked, to which Eddie only shrugged his shoulders.

"Never been my scene. You have fun though, yeah?"

"But it's our final year!" you insisted.

"Your final year." he reminded you, his eyebrows crinkling in disgust. I have to repeat again."

You waved his comment off, abandoning your stack of papers and stationery by your desk before sitting next to him on your bed, fierce determined look on your face.

"Eddie, it's not just any dance this year. It's senior prom! One that I worked really hard on! And don't make an excuse and say that your other friends aren't going, literally everyone bought tickets - even the science geeks."

Damn, there went his excuse, thought Eddie. Your pleading gaze was heavy on his shoulders, teeth gnawing his bottom lips as he mulled over it, head turning fuzzy when you reached over and placed your hand on his lap.

"Come on, moonshine. Please? For me?"

He swore you had the ability to hypnotize people. It was the only logical explanation for when you fluttered your eyelashes and left delicate touches on his skin, Eddie's mind blanked and he wordlessly agreed to any of your suggestions. Prom and Eddie did not mix, at all, from the popular kids winning titles to the wearing of suits and cheesy slow dances, but when you were asking him....

"Come on.... I'll even save a dance for you." you had said quietly, voice dripping with undeniable affection.

"Fine." Eddie surrendered, accepting the pink paper ticket you dug out from your bag, your fingers brushing against his when he took the slip of paper from your grasp.

Then once Eddie got back to his trailer, he stared at the ticket for a few minutes in the dark, an odd stirring sensation settling in his stomach. He'd been your best friend for 11 years at this point. You were about to graduate. He was about to repeat senior year.

Next year would be the first year he wouldn't be spending every moment with you.

The panic that filled his throat was foreign, chest feeling as if an elephant was standing on top his body, prickly stabbing sensations in his lower abdomen. Staring at the pink slip of paper, Eddie turned the ticket over by the window, watching how the font of the words 'senior prom' flickered and changed under the pale moonlight.

Eddie had to tell you.

If there was any day to tell you that he loved you, that he wanted something more, it would have to be on prom night.

Letting out a shaky exhale, Eddie carefully tucked the ticket underneath a set of magazines on his desk, before forcing himself to drift off to sleep.

Prom came in a flash. Wayne had gone the extra mile of driving to the town next over to rent a proper suit for him, the velvet fabric and square shoulders fitting his figure nicely. But Eddie didn't recognize himself in this sort of attire - he was still pulling at stray hems and ruffling with the edges of the fabric in the mirror when he'd realize that he'd wasted twenty minutes just staring at himself.

"Shit."

His plan was to seek you out the moment he arrived, but the gymnasium was packed with people - a flurry of glittery fabrics and bright party lights, blue and purple balloons tied to the ivory white chairs and tables, fairy string lights intertwined with satin curtains. He'd bumped into his science club friends and before he knew it, he was practically pinned to be by their side, the sea of unfamiliar faces blocking you from view.

He caught the sight of you a full hour and a half into the dance, a brief glimpse of white velvet fabric as you easily walked through the crowd greeting people, before you disappeared from sight again. Eddie was already beginning to excuse himself from his friend group when static rang out from the stage, and the principal announced that it was time to read the results for the prom title crownings.

It was only when the party had completely died down - crushed coke cans and rumpled party banners on the floor, a slow forgettable song flowing from the speakers, half-eaten paper plates stacked on top of stained tablecloths - that he was able to approach you. You were mid-conversation with the principal, probably exchanging pleasantries as the balding man applauded your effort and all your service the past four years, before you turned and your bright eyes drooped in exhaustion.

They lightened up, however, when they landed on his figure, and you excitedly waved at him.

"There you are! Had a great time?" you questioned, excited to hear his response.

"Yeah! Shame we just uh, didn't get our dance." Eddie awkwardly added, hoping to mask his disappointment. The cleaning team had already begun to take the decorations down, the music club tidying up the DJ booth on the stage behind you.

"We can still have our dance, silly. Follow me."

You quietly led him out to the parking lot, which was now completely abandoned save for the few empty vehicles and black streetlights. Leading Eddie over to your car, you opened the front seat and dug out your Walkman from your bag. Checking which cassette was in, you grinned, pressing play and placing the player on the roof of your car.

"Come on, I don't bite." you'd joked, noticing how Eddie had seemingly tensed up as the music began to flow and you placed arm over his neck. He nodded, a weak smile on his face, before he carefully put his two hands on your waist, gently swaying to the romantic melodies of Ella Fitzgerald.

"You alright?" you asked, noticing that he wasn't making any eye contact with you, his brown orbs instead choosing to focus on how his feet shuffled on the pavement next to yours.

"Y-yeah." he breathed out, glancing up for a brief moment. "It's just-"

He paused. You looked ethereal. Even in the dull, harsh yellow light of the street lamps, you carried an almost golden glow, your facial features only seemingly complimented by the night sky. He swore he could count every individual star in the sky in your eyes, your French perfume washing over him in waves, clouding his senses like toxic smoke.

"We've been friends since we were 7." Eddie slowly started out as you laughed quietly, shaking your head in affirmation.

"Yeah. Nearly 11 years, crazy, huh?"

"Y-yeah. And I've been thinking, since this is our last year together in Hawkins before you go off to university, I should be... honest with you."

You frowned at that, your grin dropping for a fraction of a second before a curious smirk replaced it.

"You telling me you haven't been honest with me?"

"Not like that! But, I realized something. It's something I've been thinking about for, uh, a while, and maybe I should've said earlier but there never seemed to be a good time."

He was practically shaking with nerves, throat closing up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He could tell that you could sense his sudden anxiety, the way his breath stopped coming out in regular intervals and his shoulders tensed as if bracing for impact.

"What is it, Eddie?"

This was it. He took in a deep breath, looked you right in the eyes, and opened his mouth, "I love you" on the tip of his tongue-

"(Y/n)! You want any sides with your pizza?" another voice rang out from the car two spots down, from a blue BMW belonging to a student none other than Steve Harrington.

Fuck.

Eddie knew of Steve. They weren't friends, hardly acquaintances. But he knew that Steve was everything Eddie wasn't: popular, charming, star basketball player, adored by everyone, Hawkins royalty. Now that Eddie thought about it, he'd vaguely seen you and Steve talking in between classes and after basketball games - just catching up on random things, you'd insisted, just two close friends.

Now Eddie wasn't too sure how true that statement was.

"Just pizza is fine, thanks! But maybe some soda?" you shouted over, breaking away from Eddie for a moment, and he cursed himself for how he instantly missed your warm arms being wrapped around him. Steve flashed you a thumbs up from his driver's seat before driving into the night, leaving Eddie to stare at you with baited curiosity.

"You're... going off to Harrington's?"

"Yeah! His parents are out of town and he just got the sickest television - like the newest model - and a few VHS tapes rented out. He also helped out the most with the prom whilst I was planning it, so I offered to pay for pizza when he asked if I wanted to come over for movie night."

Red hot flashes of anger blinded Eddie's vision for a second, before it was replaced by crushing sadness - you were going over to Steve Harrington's. Alone. After prom. To watch a movie.

Something you two did all the time.

Eddie was trying his best to keep his face neutral, to prevent the devastating realization that he'd waited too long to confess his love to weigh down his smile. His efforts seemed to pay off, as the small smile on your face never faded, before you shook those thoughts off and stared up at Eddie innocently.

"Anyways, you wanted to... tell me something?"

Suddenly, Eddie hated the song that was playing in the background - Dream a Little Dream of Me - and his throat ran dry.

"Yeah. Just... once you leave, can I use your cafeteria card?"

Chuckling, you nodded, still completely blind to how devastated Eddie was internally.

"Sure, Eddie. Really, that was what you were so scared to ask me about?"

'No.' he responded automatically, internally.

"Yeah. I know, it's kinda dumb, but I just wasn't sure if the school president would be willing to bend the rules for me a bit." he teased, mock smile on his lips, elbowing you on the side. You shoved him off playfully.

"Please, I'd do anything for you, Eds. You're my best friend."

The words felt bitter on his tongue now, mouth filling with sour tones, but he nonetheless forced himself to smile at you warmly.

The moonlight was blinding him.

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

66: your drunken ramblings. I swear, when you're drunk, you become a total clumsy, reckless mess. It's hilarious but also concerning, if I'm being honest. No wonder Robin is always playing the sober driver around you.

The first year without you was brutal, Eddie found.

He'd made a few new friends after your departure to Boston, boys who were equally obsessed with fictional universes and fantasy roleplaying as him - Jeff and Gareth, with whom he created the 'Hellfire Club' with - and he'd joined Corroded Coffin as a guitarist.

Anything to fill the void, now that you were no longer here.

On a good month, you'd be able to call him on a Sunday late at night to fill Eddie in on how you were adjusting to university life. He'd listen to you ramble about anything - your course, your new friends, how hectic and busy and off putting you found the bustling city - with a lovesick grin on his face, imagining in his mind how you'd scrunch up your face and toy with the telephone chord with your fingers during the conversation.

"You always let me talk too much on these catch up calls." you'd once teased, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to tell me to shut up at any time."

"Never." Eddie had insisted, sitting up straight. He'd never get tired of listening to your sweet voice from half away across the country.

But there were many more months where neither of you could call - exam seasons, holidays spent apart, the fact that you lived by a university schedule and Eddie still went by a high school one. And though Eddie was beginning to adjust nicely to his new group of friends and was determined to graduate on his second try, nothing quite filled the gaping hole in his heart left by your absence.

So when you'd finally come back for summer break, Eddie basically refused to leave you alone. On the second week upon your return, you'd showed up at his trailer with an interesting proposition.

"You remember Amber? Head cheerleader our final year together?"

Eddie shook his head, biting down the truth which was that he had no idea who you were talking about.

"Well, I got an invitation to her engagement party and I can bring a plus one. Wanna... come with me?"

Had anyone else asked Eddie, he would've said no in a heartbeat. But he was starved of your presence, having missed you for a whole year, and how could he say no to you now when you were in front of him? Breathing, real, smiling so prettily, asking for him to spend a whole day with you?

"Sure."

Eddie semi-regretted it later on when you two actually drove up to the party later that night.

"I hate parties." Eddie groaned into his half-empty beer bottle, leaning against the balcony whilst Robin just shot him an amused grin, having been invited as a plus one to Steve.

"Then why'd you come?" she pressed, pink lips wrapping around an half empty wine bottle. The answer was simple, really - Eddie had come for you.

Otherwise, he truly couldn't care less about attending a fancy engagement party on the upper east side of Hawkins. Houses lined with white picket fences, expensive cars parked by marble driveways, huge penthouses with glazed windows and arched ceilings.

"You came for (L/n), right?" the brunette teased, licking her lower lips to catch the stray drops of alcohol dancing on her tongue.

"I guess so, yeah." he'd confessed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"... When are you just gonna come out and say it?" Robin had then questioned, placing her hands on her hips, as if she was a parent scolding a child. "Seriously, Steve and I have placed bets since sophomore year and we're still sore losers at this point because neither of us have won our bets."

Eddie sighed, eyes flicking up to look into the large living room filled with sweaty bodies dancing to the loud house music, his eyes easily being able to scan the crowd to narrow in on your figure. You were twirling Steve around in a dramatic manner, almost making the boy bump into the table of food and topple over a stack of cupcakes, to which you quickly shouted out an apology and Steve began to laugh uncontrollably.

"It's not that simple, Buckley."

"Uh, it's very simple, Munson." she dragged out her sentence in a dramatic fashion, leaning against the balcony with one arm propped up as she looked him up and down. "You ask to go somewhere private. You say "I've loved you since we were 7." You two kiss and start to date."

She counted off of her fingers one by one as if crossing off a hypothetical list, before smiling at the metalhead. Eddie just scowled at that - god, none of his friends knew just how hard it was for him.

"It's not just... that. Like it's one thing that I've kept this a secret for over a decade now."

"Then what's stopping you?"

Eddie paused. He'd never confessed this to anyone before, he realized, staring up at his friend's curious face. He'd kept his insecure thoughts close to his chest, afraid of letting any of them see the light of day, afraid of the judgment he'd call upon himself upon being vulnerable.

But hell, what did he have to lose?

"I just don't know if... I'm good enough."

"What'd you mean?"

"Like... I've always been the outsider. The weirdo looking in. Sunshine's not like that. Popular, extroverted, outgoing, friendly - good at everything, loved by everyone. Even though we've been best friends for over a decade now, I've always felt as if... (Y/n)'s out of reach from me. I don't think I'd really be able to match up to someone like that."

Robin's smile faded into an expression of sympathy, which Eddie flashed her a grateful smile in response, her left hand then springing up to clasp onto his shoulder.

"Shit, Eddie... That's heavy. I had no idea."

Eddie wasn't quite sure if he appreciated or loathed the sorry smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, it's whatever. Just how things are, I guess."

Robin opened her mouth to object when you and Steve messily cut into the conversation, you practically tripping on your feet with how drunk you were, the sting of alcohol wafting off of you in waves.

"I've had seven shots of vodka." you proudly announced, steadying yourself against Eddie's shoulders by shakily grasping his body. He had to steady you upright as you toppled over on a step you didn't see, his sturdy arms hooking underneath your shaky arms. "Oops."

"Jokes on you, I've had eight." Steve countered, swaying from side to side, leaning on Robin who only rolled her eyes playfully and shoved him off.

"You alright?" Eddie whispered underneath Robin and Steve's loud bickering, brushing away stray strands of hair from your glazed over eyes. You nodded, humming lowly, before your bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"Mmhmm. I need more vodka though."

"Oh no you don't-" Eddie had to physically drag your body out of reach from the stacks of vodka bottles decorating the main table, your small frown quickly displaced by a mopey grin as you buried your drunken head into the pit of his arm. "I'm taking you home."

"I don't need to go home, I just need to sober up a bit!" you'd insisted, pushing away from Eddie, flailing your arms around. "Come on, the cake hasn't even been brought out yet, and I promised Amber I'd stick around till then."

"Fine." Eddie set his red solo cup down by the wooden railings, before decisively grabbing your left hand in his. "We're going for a walk to sober up then, okay?"

"Okay."

It was a chilly summer evening, green leaves and stray weeds crunching underneath his boots as you stumbled behind him, your warm hands a stark contrast from Eddie's cold ones. He could feel his metal rings shift against your skin as you swayed your linked arms together back and forth like a child, wide smile on your lips.

"Sobering up?" he'd teased, shooting you an amused grin in the dark, the empty streets illuminated only by the flickering yellow streetlights, the crescent moon hidden behind a fog of clouds.

"Hardly." you grumbled.

"Guess we need to walk a bit more."

Eventually, the two of you stumbled across an empty playground, and before Eddie could talk you out of it you'd decided to make a run towards the seesaw, forcing him to follow behind you closely.

"(Y/n)-"

"Sit, Eddie." you'd instructed, pushing down on his shoulders to force him down on one side. "Please, Eddie? Like the old times?"

Eddie smiled at that - it felt just like yesterday that Eddie was seven, red flushed face peeking underneath half-formed head of curls, clutching onto the seesaw in the school playground. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he pretended to surrender into it, sitting down on to the wooden plank.

That somehow devolved into chasing you around the playground: pushing you down the slide, racing you to the top of the monkey bars, spinning you on the merry-go-round until you physically couldn't breathe anymore from how hard you were laughing. Eddie was no different, eyes tearing up as he fell onto the trampoline next to you, heavy breaths meeting the cold air as he tried to regain his breath.

"So much for a quick walk." he'd muttered, staring up at the few stars twinkling above.

"Did the job of sobering me up a bit though." you countered. "And plus, you can't tell me that playgrounds aren't real fucking fun. Even if we're adults."

"Not denying that, sunshine."

You turned over to stare at him, face a few inches from his, and there was a certain glint in your eyes that he couldn't quite read. Hint of a smile on your dry lips, your hands came up underneath your head to support it, fabric rustling as you adjusted your posture.

"It's crazy, isn't it? We're now at a age where our friends are getting fucking engaged."

"It's mental, yeah."

"... You ever think you'd want to get married? Like Amber?" you raised your eyebrows, voice half serious but half playful. His immediate answer - that he often thought about marriage with you - passed by his mind like a bullet train before he quickly replaced it with a safer answer.

"I'd like to think so, eventually, yeah. What about you?"

You hummed.

"Not sure. I'm a bit scared by the whole 'life commitment' aspect of it. I think the only person I've been able to tolerate my whole life has been like, you. Funny, huh?" you'd joked, sitting up right, as Eddie did the same.

His heart was pounding at a million beats per minute, your innocuous comment sparking electricity in his veins, but he had to remind himself instantly: you didn't mean anything by it.

"Yeah, funny."

Once returning to the party, Eddie found that the rest of the party participants had devolved into a game of truth or dare and spin the bottle. He'd participated in the latter, semi-half heartedly, at your insistence. All was fine until the beer bottle landed on you, and the person to your left announced that you had to kiss whoever you knew for the longest in the circle.

You'd done the unthinkable to Eddie, simply turning towards him, grabbing his face and giving him a fierce, wet kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had all the girls screaming in excitement and all the boys hollering with whistles, the kind that made Eddie break out in red flushes of embarrassment, mouth still tingling with the aftertaste of vodka and your honey chapstick when you pulled away.

"Didn't wanna lose, sorry Eds." you'd commented against his lips, flashing him a wink. He would've given you a joking comment in response, but his mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, mind still catching up with what had just happened.

It was a joke. You were drunk.

But damn, Eddie wanted to have your lips on his again.

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

83: you're an absolute whiz with the kids. Not just Henderson, the whole gang. Sometimes, I think they like you more than me - which I can't be offended by either. I like you more than me.

Second year without you in Hawkins.

Eddie was repeating senior year again.

God, it sucked. There were only so many late night calls and hastily written letters he could exchange with you before he went mad. He swore it had become a nightly ritual to stare at his house phone and to check his calendar each morning, counting down every day before any major holiday during which you might return to Hawkins.

You'd missed Christmas last year due to a research project and you'd similarily chose to spent Easter in Boston, leaving Eddie bored and a bit lonely. Sure, Eddie had gotten used to Hawkins High at this point. Hell, he'd started to revel in being the weirdo, the outcast, of purposefully pissing off the popular kids.

But it never got easy missing you.

It was a boring Tuesday morning. Eddie was thinking of anything in particular, eyes still laden with fatigue and his head still stuck in his semi-dreamlike state, when he'd stumbled over to his trailer door and swung it open.

But you were waiting for him on the other side, in a pair of blue jeans and a warm maroon university sweatshirt covering your figure, your arms outstretched for a hug.

"SURPRISE!"

He blinked at you silently like a deer in headlights, to which you chuckled nervously and lowered your arms slightly.

"Oh. Did I-"

Eddie didn't let you finish your sentence before he basically pummeled into you, wrapping his sturdy arms around your waist, squeezing you so tight that you couldn't breathe as he mumbled his next words against your neck.

"Holy shit, I missed you so much." his voice was wavering the slightest bit, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes which he rapidly blinked away before you could see them form properly.

"I missed you so much too, moonshine." you replied softly, voice tinged with adoration and fondness.

"H-how, or I guess, why are you here?"

"I got a day off earlier than I thought on my research project and I don't have any plans for the weekend so... figured I'd swing by Hawkins!"

"Swing by? You're not staying?" Eddie's smile fell by a fraction.

"I'm only here for a day before I'm flying back - I have to start preparing for midterms, plus I told one of my friends back in Boston that I'd help her move."

"Well." Eddie had teased, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, his other hand dangling the keys to his van. "Guess we gotta make the most of these 24 hours, huh?"

His first stop was to take you to the diner you were obsessed with, a small red and white colored establishment hidden behind the gas station that served the best french fries and milkshake you swore you'd ever tasted.

"God, I've missed this." you groaned, taking a light sip of the frothy dessert. "This is why I came back, actually." you joked, making him pout like a petulant child.

"You're mean."

"Eh. You like it."

His smile was automatic - he was just too happy to be in your company again, to see how your cheeks dimpled with a smile, to hear your lively voice right by his ears.

"I do."

The next stop was decided by you to be the arcade. Impatient at how slowly Eddie was walking, you grabbed his left hand to tug him along, making him chuckle at how excited you seemed to be over a couple of video games.

"(Y/n)?" a small, quiet voice rang out, stealing your attention away from Eddie and making you drop his hand.

"DUSTY!!!"

You eagerly waved over the curly haired boy whose face lit up in a wide grin at the sight of you, before he stumbled over and hugged you fiercely, awed expression marking his face.

"I thought you'd still in Boston!"

"I am! I'm just back for the day."

"Cool! Who's this?" Dustin had asked, pointing at Eddie, semi-frown etched on his face. Eddie had to suppress a scowl at that, as well as swallowing a harsh "get lost." He had no idea who this middle school kid was, but he already didn't like that (a) this kid had taken your attention away from Eddie and (b) now the boy was cutting into your one day back in Hawkins with Eddie.

"Oh right, this is Eddie, my best friend! Eddie, this is Dustin, one of the kids I used to babysit."

"Nice to meet you." Eddie had forced out, attempting to give the younger boy a reassuring grin. The faux smile didn't seem to work on Dustin, who only scrunched up his face in response, his sour expression melting away into a warm one the moment his eyes met back up with yours.

"Speaking of babysitting, I hope Steve's been treating you well." you teased, ruffling Dustin's hair. The younger boy sighed dramatically at that.

"I wish. In fact, Harrington's supposed to be 'watching me' here at the arcade - in reality, he's here to flirt with her."

You looked over to where he was pointing to see Steve leaning over the counter of the arcade, coy smirk on his face as he clearly tried to charm a pretty blonde girl.

"Tragic. I see his flirting skills haven't improved." you teased, making Dustin chuckle as well. "Hey, remember when you thought Steve and I were dating?" you looked back at Eddie, wiggling your eyebrows.

Eddie flushed red with embarrassment at that, whilst the younger boy's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"You two DATED?"

"No, Dusty, never. But this silly man over here-" you elbowed Eddie, and he shoved you off quickly with a small scowl on his face. "Thought that Steve and I were an item at one point. Senior year, in fact. As if Steve's not like the big brother I never had."

"You two do fight like siblings." Dustin added, and your smirk only widened. "Speaking of Steve, uh, since he's basically ditched me for the blonde - can I hang out with you for the rest of the day? Please?"

"Of course you can!" you exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. "It's okay if Dustin joins us, right?" you'd asked Eddie, turning around to smile at him.

Eddie wanted to say no. The word was begging to be let out from his lips, sitting heavy on his tongue, but when you flashed him that hopeful glance and that damn kid gave him his puppy dog eyes (damn, Dustin was good at that), Eddie couldn't bear to be the bad guy and deny the invitation.

"Yeah, of course. Come on in, kid."

Eddie eventually loosened up to Dustin's presence over the night - the first hour or so he sulked in the background, feeling like a third wheel to your inside jokes and excited conversations with the boy, until you left to go to the bathroom. Eddie was leaning against the railings with Dustin sitting cross legged on the floor, before the boy picked his head up and pointed to Eddie's shirt.

"What's Hellfire?"

Eddie scoffed.

"You wouldn't get it, kid."

"Uh, I'm about to be a freshman next year, I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Come on, I wanna know."

"It's like a... club I started. Where we play games."

"What kind of games? Like Defender and Tron?" the young boy's question was so genuine, expression so innocent and full of wonder, that Eddie couldn't help but laugh a bit and let his guard down.

"No, no. It's called Dungeons and Dragons, D&D for short. It's like a roleplaying game."

Dustin continued to stare at the metalhead, peeking upwards to silently urge him to go on, and within minutes, Eddie was telling the curly haired boy everything he had to know about D&D. To his surprise, Dustin's attention never once wavered, only interrupting Eddie to ask questions and to press him further for more information.

"Aw man, that sounds so cool! I wish I could play right now." Dustin stated, eyes wide with awe.

"Well, Hellfire Club is open to any Hawkins High student - once you're a freshman next year, you and your friends are all welcome to join."

"Really?"

"Yeah dude! More the merrier, right?"

"Oh, awesome!"

"Did I miss something?" you'd joked, wiping your hands on the knee pads of your jeans, eyes flickering between the two excitable boys. You'd clearly missed a bonding moment between them, it seemed, and it warmed your heart to see your best friend and Dustin get along so well in your absence.

"Eddie just told me about D&D and said I could join his club next year! Isn't that cool?" Dustin rambled, tugging at your sleeves. You chuckled, nodding.

"That's very cool, Dustin. Now come on, I'm pretty sure I'm still better than you at Centipede and I want to prove it."

Night settled into Hawkins quickly, dark black skies covering the streets as you ushered Dustin into the back of Eddie's van, refusing to let him cycle back home in the dark. Eddie had to stop at a gas station for a brief moment, and you stopped him from getting out, waving your wallet in your right hand.

"Stay. I'll cover gas."

"And can you pick up some beef jerky too? Please?" Dustin asked from the back, jostling up and down from his seat. You chuckled at his antics, unstrapping your seat belt.

"Sure, Dusty. I'll be right back, okay?"

Once you shut the door and your figure disappeared behind the bright lights of the gas station store, Dustin spoke up.

"How long have you been crushing on (Y/n)?"

"WHAT?" Eddie had spluttered out, choking on air as he coughed repeatedly to let air back into his lungs. Dustin just shook his head sideways at that, clicking his tongue against the roof his mouth.

"Come on, dude, it's obvious. How long have you been pining after my babysitter? A year?"

Silence.

"Three years?"

Silence.

"MORE THAN FIVE YEARS?" Dustin shouted out, surprised. Eddie bit his lower lip, before the admission fell out with a heavy sigh.

"More like twelve."

"TWELVE?"

Eddie quickly turned around from his seat up front, twisting his upper body to glare at the younger boy.

"Yeah, 12 years, anyways, that's not that important. How the hell did you know?"

The curly haired boy just shrugged, smiling smugly as if it was common knowledge and Eddie was the idiot for not figuring it out.

"You were glaring daggers into Steve's head when he accidentally touched hands with (Y/n) whilst they were talking. Oh, and you won't stop staring. And smiling. And subtledly flirting. And you have that lovesick grin on your face that Lucas gets for Max or Mike gets for El."

"I don't know who those people are." Eddie had countered.

"They're my friends - whatever, it's not important. The point is, Eddie, you look at my babysitter the same way my friends look at their girlfriends."

The heated conversation was cut off short by you reappearing by the driver's window, the metal door swinging open as you waved the beef jerky packet over your head before tossing it to Dustin in the back seat.

"Gas has been taken care of and here is your jerky, Dustin. Ready to go?" you asked cheerily, totally oblivious to the conversation you've just missed between the two boys. Innocent smiles on both their faces, both boys nodded silently, though Dustin flashed Eddie a sly smirk in the rearview mirror.

"Where to next?" Eddie teased once Dustin had been dropped off.

"My house, please. I need to pick up my backpack before I head off to the airport, gotta use the phone to call a taxi too."

"Let me drive you." Eddie offered immediately, swallowing down his tired yawns. You frowned at that, worried.

"Are you sure? It's a bit of a long drive, Eds, and it's already kinda late at night-"

"Nonsense, sunshine. I'm driving you and that's final."

In reality, Eddie was trying to stretch out as much of his time with you as he could. He knew he had an early start tomorrow and he was feeling rather tired, but he'd be damned if he was going to lose out on an extra hour next to you by letting you take a taxi instead.

"Alright then." you smiled, nodding.

His van pulled up to the airport too quickly for Eddie's liking, his immature first thought being that he wanted to lock his car doors to prevent you from getting out.

"Take care of him for me, would you?" you'd asked once Eddie had driven you to the airport, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, fiddling with the clasps. "Him and all his friends, if you end up meeting them all next year as freshmen... They're all lovely kids. They could all use someone as amazing as you looking out for them."

His heart melted at your admission and he nodded automatically, slow grin appearing on his chapped lips.

"Of course. They're in safe hands."

"Thanks, Eds."

You stepped forward to give him one last hug, your face squished against his upper chest, and Eddie took his time to commit the feeling of your arms around him to memory.

All the loud noise - the intercom announcing flight details, the distant chatter of conversations from strangers, the shuffling of luggage and dragging of feet on the floor - dissipated into the background, his senses overwhelmed with one and only one thing.

You.

And how much he loved you.

"See you soon?" Eddied added hopefully once you two parted. He'd beg you to come back for at least Christmas, but that was never a given and he didn't want to be standing in the way of your career. You smiled back at him gently, patting his hands reassuringly.

"See you soon, moonshine."

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

95: your bravery. I'll never forget how you handled finding out about the Upside Down. Whilst I wanted to run as far away from the monsters, you dived in headfirst. I was worried sick for you, you know. But I knew it was dumb of me to expect otherwise - you're the type of person willing to put your life on the line for your friends.

Eddie wished he'd seen you again in much better circumstances.

Not when he was repeating senior year for the third time and he was being hunted down by Jason Carver and the entire police department under suspicision for murder.

He immediately tensed when he heard footsteps and a crowd of voices ring out from the entrance of the lakehouse, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to remain as still as possible from his hiding spot. His mind was racing with an array of threats and worst case scenarios, his hands immediately reaching to the knife digging into his thigh.

"I'm telling you, Steve, things don't add up! Eddie would never kill someone."

He knew that voice. It was you. There was a rumbling amongst the group before the lakehouse fell back into the silence, save for soft padding of a single pair of feet against the wooden floor and the creaking of the front door.

"Eddie? You in here?"

Hesitant for a second but too eager to see you, he lifted his head slowly, dropping the knife back into his back pocket as he straightened up to meet you face to face. To his surprise, your face lacked any sign of judgment or disgust - instead, your eyes brightened with relief and you pulled him in to a bone crushing hug.

"Thank god you're okay! You are okay, right? You're not injured?" you frantically fired off one question after another, hands clutching his chin to lift his head up, eyes grazing over his entire figure scanning for any injuries. He smiled at that - the first genuine smile on his face in weeks - before gathering your hands up in his own and clasping them tight.

"I'm alright, sunshine. Don't worry. More importantly, why are you here?"

"Steve called."

"And?"

"Said you were in trouble. Suspcision for murder. I cancelled all my plans, lied about a family emergency and got here as fast as I could." you rambled, pausing for a moment to shoot him a look of shock. "By the way, did you know that the town is like connected to this hellish mirror universe called the Upside Down? And like there are these supernatural entities showing up threatening to break the very fabric of reality?"

"I don't know too much but based on what I saw with Chrissy, I'm... inclined to believe you more than not." Eddie responded, only to be cut off by Steve's voice from outside.

"YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, RIGHT? CAN WE COME IN NOW?"

You rolled your eyes at that.

"YES, STEVE, I'M ALIVE. They can all come in, right? I swear Steve and the kids can explain everything better than I can."

"Of course."

Eddie had a slightly easier time grasping everything than you - when you'd shot him an incredulous look he simply shrugged and smirked, insisting that it was akin to the many villains and monsters possible in D&D.

The day bled into night quickly and led to you, Nancy, Robin, Steve and Eddie standing by the edge of the lake whilst staring at a rickety wooden boat.

"I call shotgun." you yelled out, brustling past Eddie, only for him to grab your arm and yank you back.

"Uh, I don't think so. You're staying back."

"Says who?"

"Says me! Look, this is too dangerous, I'd rather you stick with the kids or at the very least just wait for us here."

The thought of you getting injured - his nightmares still haunted by what had happened to Chrissy in front of his eyes - made Eddie sick with dread and disgust, goosebumps rising against his skin.

"Tough shit, moonshine." you'd countered, undeterred. "I'm getting on that damn boat whether you want me to or not."

God, you were stubborn, Eddie cursed internally whilst running a hand down his face. He shot his friends standing behind you awkwardly a pleading look.

"Help me out here, guys, come on."

"... Hate to be that person, but if you're coming along then I don't see why (Y/n) can't." Robin added, shrugging her shoulders.

"Also, if this portal is underwater then it'd be good to have another great swimmer in the group." Steve chimed in, and you smirked at Eddie proudly.

"See? And I was varsity swimming captain all four years in high school. You're outnumbered, Eddie, now stop worrying so much."

Biting down his protests, Eddie gave in, though he made it a point to sit as close as he could to you should something go wrong.

And of course things went wrong - Steve got dragged in by an unseen force, you jumped in to the freezing waters right after him, so quick that Eddie hadn't even registered that you'd dived into the lake until the freezing cold waters splashed down onto his jeans.

Shit.

Black slime coating your fingers, grey ash dotting your eyebrows and crimson blood dripping from your coarse fingers, you were a terrifying sight to behold when Eddie saw you next. Clutching a carving knife strapped to your side, you were fearlessly cutting through the swarm of demon bats, saving Steve from potential death.

No, certain death, Eddie thought as you leaned down and helped Steve stand up on shaky legs. A twinge of jealousy stabbed at Eddie's chest at the sight of you shrugging off your jacket to wrap it around Steve's scarred torso, and Eddie couldn't help but think that Steve's hand lingered for too long on your back for it to just be friendly.

"Stop fuming at Steve, yeah? He did save our ass." Robin commented quietly from the side, smirking.

"Was not fuming at Harrington." was Eddie's weak response, to which Nancy and Robin only shot each other an amused glance. The girls ran to support Steve as Eddie walked right up to you, your eyes still on your muddied jeans as you wiped away the excess grime on the faded fabric.

"Hi again." you'd said nonchalantly. "Great weather we're having, huh?" you'd joked, wry smile on your dry lips.

Eddie couldn't believe you.

"You're impossible. And insane. Like actually, totally, insane." he'd responded, shaking his head sideways, awed and impressed.

Here you were - having just found out the truth about Hawkins and confronting a swarm of deadly supernatural creatures, covered in dirt, blood and ash - joking with him as if it was just another normal Wednesday. He didn't know whether to applaud you or scold you for your intense loyalty and bravery.

"You love it though." you stuck your tongue out at him, straightening up.

"I do." he'd said softly.

'And I love you.' was on the tip of his tongue.

But he swallowed it back, being grounded back to reality once Nancy called out to you two to catch up. Shaky feet almost slipping on dirtied grime and blood underneath, he figured there were much bigger things to worry about.

Much, much bigger things.

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

100: you.

Eddie used to think that that day was the most terrifying for him. Watching your body disappear under inky waters, running from demonic creatures, his fingers aching from repeatedly clenching around a metal baseball bat.

No, he's sure now that waiting for you to finish reading the letter is the most terrifying thing ever to have happened to him.

It's a painful and silent twenty minutes, during which he watches your lips quirk into fond smiles and silly frowns - he has to remind you repeatedly to continue reading, and to stop interrupting yourself to say something sentimental to him - all the whilst his heart beats so loud it drowns out the rain beginning to pour outside.

He figures you've finally reached the end when your expression suddenly twists into one of confusion, and you slowly look up at him through your lashes.

"Did you give up on the final point?" you joke, making Eddie frown.

"What'd you mean?"

"For number 100. You just wrote one word: 'you.' For all the other numbers, you wrote down more than that."

"Right." Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers together nonchalantly. He hopes the dim lighting in the room is masking his flushed cheeks, and that his voice is remaining as stable as he thinks it is in his head. "I told you I wrote a list of 100 things I love about you, right?"

"Yeah." you repeat back, still not grasping it.

God, he wonders, how could you be so bright yet so oblivious that he has to spell it out for you?

"All the other numbers combined, leading up to number 100. The thing I love the most about you is... that you're, uh, you." he slowly finishes.

Eddie's sentence hangs heavy in the air, atmosphere in the room suddenly sweltering hot and thick, your fingers slowly closing the envelope with your arms falling to your lap.

"... What are you saying?"

There was no going back.

"I love you."

There.

He'd said it.

Nearly 15 years of secret pining, of watching you date one guy after another whilst feigning disinterest, of being teased by all your mutual friends for his infatuation for you, of accepting your warm hugs and nightly cuddles as nothing but platonic...

All down to those three cursed words: i love you.

It's out in the open now, Eddie's stomach twisting with a tornado of emotions as he carefully tries to gauge your reaction. You're motionless, eyes wide and unblinking for a moment, your deft hands dropping the letter onto the bed.

"A-are... are you serious?" you squeak out.

Eddie suppresses a laugh at how shocked and in disbelief you seem to be.

"Well... yeah. Trust me, I wouldn't write 100 things I love about someone just for anyone."

You just nod at that, emotionless, eyes falling to your carpeted floor. He can't figure out what you're thinking, but it feels as if time is ticking by achingly slow and his lungs burn with anticipation with every beat of silence that passes in your bedroom.

It's killing Eddie, not knowing what you're thinking, and for a second he's worried that he's done for.

That he's destroyed your friendship, you're about to frown and tell him that you're sorry but you don't feel the same way. He opens his mouth to quickly begin to let out a string of apologies, preapred to swallow back all his words and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn't get to it.

He can't speak, he can't breathe, he can hardly process anything else other than the fact that your lips are now suddenly on his, your legs straddling his lap as you tackle him onto the mattress. Teeth clashing against teeth, it's desperate, his fingers gripping onto your waist tightly as your lips chase his.

He can taste the remnants of the buttercream frosting from your birthday cake, your lips pillowy and soft. He's kissed you once before, sure - that drunken kiss for the game of truth or dare - but nothing compares to this, the way his vision blinds in ivory white, finger tips buzzing with electricity, heart aflame with infatuation and lust at the way you growl and deepen the kiss.

"I love you too, Eddie." you reply afterwards, lips still swollen from the aftermath of the kiss.

"Really?"

It's his turn to be shocked, heart skipping at the amount of adoration and awe in your hoarse voice.

"Yeah. But w.... why didn't you say anything earlier?" you ask quietly, bewildered. Eddie laughs awkwardly at that, shrugging.

"That's the million dollar question, I guess. I don't know, I just... everyone loves you and wants you. You're so beautiful and talented and outgoing and I... I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to choose me." he mutters out hesitantly, scratching his neck, purposefully avoiding your gaze.

Eddie's a little embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting it now, knowing that you do indeed love him back, but it all melts away like ice in the summer heat when your fingers redirect his chin upwards to meet your gaze.

You're practically glowing with happiness, golden halo around your hairline.

"Always, Eddie. I'd always choose you."

a/n: ANOTHER slow burn Eddie fic down! If you're actually read this right now and you read to the end = thank you. After the overwhelming love y'all gave me for 'you made me hate this city', I knew I had to add another fic to this collection. And ofc, Taylor is my fave artist of all time so it seemed only fitting i honor her with a fic.

SIGH so this fic ALMOST wasn't published. Like i really genuinely didn't know if I would end up posting this. I was (and still am) afraid of putting it out there lmao bc of its length and the unusual writing (like the flashbacks and letter structure), but alas.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k #7k

[lovebugism]

Spoooooky request, what if the gang went to a haunted house and everyone made fun of reader for being scared, but Steve holds her hand and walks with her 👻

thanks for requesting angel! i switched it up a bit and did a sort of second part to this fic! you def don't have to read it but it'll give some context :D — you're still getting used to the world post-vecna, but it's easier with steve holding your hand

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The haunted house off Fifth Street looks strangely familiar. Two stories, faded cornflower paint job, boarded up windows. It looks like a dollhouse from hell. It looks like the goddamn Creel House. It’s like some kind of sick joke.

It didn’t take Hawkins very long to recover from last spring. Mostly because it was just an earthquake to everyone else. No one died, nothing was ruined beyond repair. To the rest of the town, it was just a minor natural disaster — an inconvenience more than anything.

No one knows that a thirteen-year-old girl killed the monster trying to end the world. No one knows that the local freak nearly died saving a bunch of teenagers. No one knows that one song, one heavy metal guitar, and one good memory just narrowly saved your life. 

It’s secrets all of you are gonna have to keep for the rest of your lives. It weighs you down accordingly.

“Am I crazy, or is that…?” Robin trails off, freckled chin tilted towards the velvet blue sky as she gapes at the artificially rotted house. It glows a sickly green color on the outside. The windows light up red every now and then, in time with the screams echoing from the upper story.

“Yeah,” Nancy answers, breathless and equally dumbfounded. “I think it is.”

A beat of silence falls over the group of you. It doesn’t feel so heavy with the surrounding chatter. The crowd continues to bustle around you on the street, falling over themselves with laughter and lingering fright. They have no idea the ghost story they grew up with nearly destroyed the world.

The bitter realization makes your chest ache. Steve seemingly understands this and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You wonder if he can feel the way you tremble.

Eddie scoffs a cynical laugh from the other side of you. A pink, sadistic grin tugs at his lips, almost as wild as his curls billowing in the autumn breeze. “It’s basically kismet then, huh?”

Steve shoots the boy a half-hearted glare, then deflates because he realizes he can’t really be mad about it. Those damn demobats might’ve taken a pound of flesh from his stomach, but it’s nowhere near the feast they made out of Munson.

“C’mon on, dude,” he murmurs quietly with a subtle nod down at you.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “If I don’t laugh bout it, I’ll start crying, so… Take your pick, man.”

Steve wants to tell him that there’s no shame in crying. That he’s done it plenty of times since the fall of ’84. He’s cried for you, for himself, for the kids who will never get to be kids again. He figures it’s better than letting it all build up until you damn near explode. 

But now’s probably not the best time for that talk. Or any time, really. He’ll get you to get all serious and sappy with Eddie about that another time, just like you did for him.

“I’m gonna, uh— I’m gonna go get the tickets,” Jonathan murmurs with his usual Byers mumblings. 

He wasn’t around for the whole Vecna ordeal — just the weird shit in California and the secret lair thing in Nevada. He feels like he can be a bit braver about the whole thing for the four of you.

Nancy brushes a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he leaves. She does that a lot now, with Jonathan and all the rest of you. She always feels like she needs to say a proper goodbye and I love you whenever someone leaves. Just in case the world decides to end again.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Steve mutters to you, gaze twinkling with sincerity but stern still. “You know that, right?”

He knows that you know, but he feels the need to say it anyway. Mostly because he knows you were already scared of most things before everything went to shit. You’ve always been delicate, tender, like an open wound. Now, you can’t step outside without shaking. You’re always shuddering with the distant fear that the curse might return and no one will be there to save you.

Steve knows this, too. That’s why he holds so ardently to your trembling hand. It’s a silent reminder that he’s there, that he won’t let anything happen to you again, that he’ll always be around to save you when you need him.

“Oh, my god,” Robin groans, eyes wide and head tilted back. “Leave her alone, Steve! She’s fine!”

You know she’s just trying to be supportive. She thinks Steve’s coddling you because you’re quiet — that he’s sticking up for you because he thinks you can’t stick up for yourself. 

He is. And you can’t. But still, she’s only trying to help.

Steve looks to his left to glare at her. They seem to communicate telepathically for a moment. His eyes soften again when he turns back to you. His deep cinnamon gaze swims with a honeyed concern, a silent “Are you fine?”

You nod. “I’m okay,” you tell him, mustering a soft smile that wavers at the edges.

He doesn’t believe you, not completely, but he doesn’t press it any further.

Jonathan returns with the ticket stubs. They’re black and blood red. You take the one he gives you with hesitant, clammy hands. He seems to notice how terrified you are without you having to say a single goddamn word.

“I’m not a huge fan of these things either,” he confesses with a thin-lipped smile. A light-hearted way of telling you that you’re not alone in the fear you keep hidden (very poorly hidden, you figure).

You smile back at him, but it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. 

Your fingers fidget with the paper stub — maybe a distraction for yourself or maybe to hide how you’re too anxious to stay still. Steve figures it’s a bit of both. ‘Cause he knows you too well and not a thing gets by him. There’s nothing about you that he doesn’t notice.

He turns to face you completely while everyone else gets their ticket. He keeps his wedged between his middle and forefinger as his hands curl around the outsides of your elbows. He’s serious, but still soft — gentle, but still firm. 

“Babe—”

“Stevie,” you interject with a similar tone. “I’m okay.”

“You heard her, Stevie. She’s fine!” Robin retorts, curling her maroon-tinted lips into a smirk. She scoffs out a laugh and gestures up to the fake haunt across the street. “This shit is basically for kids. No one’s dying here, alright?”

You know what she’s doing. She’s sticking up for you and taking the piss out of her best friend at the same time. It’s nothing new — hell, it’s her favorite hobby. She’s got your back now the same way she had it in that house last spring. 

But still, her words sting a little.

Because she’s right. This place is for kids. And you still feel a bit like you’re dying.

Steve knows this, too. He knows everything about you. Even the stuff you wish he didn’t.

His sneakers scuff against the pavement when he turns to Robin. His eyes narrow in a challenging squint as he crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn’t look quite as intimidating as usual in his fluffy, cable-knit sweater. 

“Well, you know what? I’m scared, actually. I don’t wanna do it, okay? You got me, Rob.”

The girl grins something cynical. She shakes her head all slow, like she’s just caught him in some kind of lie. “I knew it. You little baby.”

Steve lets her tease him. It’s not like he isn’t used to it by now. He just rolls his eyes and bears it, lets her laugh about it with the rest of the group as they head towards the haunted house. 

You watch with an attentive gaze while they head inside, flinching softly when you hear a thunderous boom and the sound of their screaming a second later. It leaves you secretly grateful that you hadn’t gone in behind them. 

A wavering sigh tumbles from your lips, a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Steve exhales a gentle laugh from beside you. He smooths a wide palm up your spine and down again. He leans over to press the side of his hip against yours.

You cross your arms over your chest to make yourself as small as possible while you glance over at the boy beside you. You look at him so far beneath your lashes you’re basically peering at him from the corner of your eye.

“Thank you,” is all you say. It’s all you need to say.

Steve shrugs with a plush, crooked grin. “’S okay. I know you’re too sweet to say no, so…”

“I wanted to do it,” you confess, clearing your throat when your voice breaks.

“I know.”

“I guess I’m not… as used to everything as I thought.”

“I know,” Steve repeats. His hand curls around your waist and makes a home in the very center of it. He pulls you closer with the urge to melt into you. His brows raise, eyes sparkling when his smile widens. “But that’s why I’m here, though, right? We’re gonna get better together.”

You nod up at him, smiling more sincerely now. 

Arms still crossed, your hands ball into fists to fight the urge to smooth a hand through his hair — to push back the rogue chestnut strands hanging over his forehead.

You hesitate, so he beats you to the draw. He swipes a golden hand over his head right before he leans down to kiss you. 

He smacks a sweet peck to your smile. A bright light flashes with another thunderous boom a moment later. You flinch and pull back. You swear you hear Eddie screaming, “jesus fucking christ!” from the upper story. You forget to be scared.

You didn’t think it was possible. The whole getting better thing.

Steve makes you feel like could be.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 15

Warnings: slight angst, mostly fluff though. Steve is not really in this chapter, don't be mad, please. He will be back in the next chapter.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You need reassurance after the horrible date with Ray, and your best friend is there to give it to you.

Word count: 4k+

A/N: The amazing flashback scene of Eddie and Steve was written by @hellfire--cult when we were going over ideas together, so credit goes out to her, also thank you for listening to my rambles and for sharing your ideas with me 💕 ps: if you haven't read any of her stories, go do it right now, do I wanna know? had me in a chokehold

series masterlist

-

The bruises on Eddie’s knuckles don’t surprise you, it was to be expected after seeing Ray’s face but it still makes you freeze a little. All night, he has been hiding them from you, doing everything to keep you from seeing them but now you do, you see them clearly, the cuts and the bruised knuckles, you wonder if he has any others that may be hidden under his clothes. 

With your elbows leaned against the counter and your face propped up by your hands, you stare at him as you watch him make the grilled cheese sandwiches. You aren’t hungry but Eddie always insists on making you something to eat when you come over. 

Eddie can feel your eyes on him, he knows that you know. Yet, neither of you speak up about it. You act like nothing's wrong and so does he, but he knows that a conversation about what happened is bound to happen tonight.

“I don’t feel like going back to school,” you groan. 

A smile tugs at his lips, he glances up at you after he flips the sandwich over in the pan. 

“The good A student doesn’t feel like going back to school?” He chuckles. 

“Shut up,” you snort, “just because I have good grades, doesn’t mean that I like going to school. Besides, you are the nerd out of the two of us, dungeon master.”

His eyes widen and he places a hand on his chest, dramatically. You try not to stare at his knuckles again. 

“Me? A nerd?”

“Yeah, you’ve been studying way more than me!”

“I’m studying with you, sweetheart. You basically force me into doing it–”

“Because I want you to graduate, dumbass,” you exclaim, reaching for the bowl of grapes, you pick out one and throw it at him, giggling when it hits him on the forehead. 

“Ouch! We don’t throw food around, young lady!” He says with a stern voice, pointing at you with the spatula. 

You giggle, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Shaking his head, he huffs with a smile on his face. 

“Are you ready for your gourmet dinner, queen?” He jokes as he takes the sandwich out of the pan and puts it on the plate. 

“I’m always ready for Chef Munson’s amazing grilled cheese sandwich,” you grin, taking the plate from his hands, “it’s better than any other sandwich.”

He snorts at the nickname, smirking at you as he puts his sandwich on his plate as well. 

“One of these days, I’m gonna bake you a cake.”

You raise your brows, taking your plate as you follow him to the small table. 

“A cake? What kind of cake, Eddie?” You ask, sitting down on the chair. 

“Whatever cake you want,” he chuckles, taking a bite out of his sandwich. 

“I think we should make one together, that way nothing goes wrong.” 

He frowns, mouth twisting and looking at you, offended.

“Eat your sandwich, you must be hangry.”

Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement when you giggle at his words, taking your sandwich, you look at him as you bite into it. He watches the way you chew it with a smile on your face, nodding at him.

“Good?” 

“Hmm.” 

He chuckles when you hold your hand in front of your mouth, “very good.”

He pats himself on the shoulder, jokingly. 

After you both finish eating, you retreat back to his room with the candy you brought him from the store. Eddie gets comfortable on the bed, opening the bag of m&m’s and reaching for the remote to turn on the TV that he got from his old neighbor after helping him change the tires on his Chevy truck. 

Eddie glances at you, watching the way you take a seat on his chair instead of the bed, next to him. You have been distant all day, you didn’t even hug him when you said ‘hello’, the way you usually do. He knows that you might not feel comfortable with physical touch yet but you hugged him yesterday morning and you let him kiss your hands, you didn’t seem to mind that. 

He flips through the channels but he keeps watching you, watching the way your brows furrow. You look like you want to say something but something keeps you from doing so, so he gives you more time, waits for you to be the one to speak up, the way he always does.

He adjusts his pillows and leans back, offering you some of the candy, he holds out the bag to you. 

You shake your head, giving him a small smile. 

“Why are you so far away?” He asks as he puts the candy on the nightstand, “you can’t see the TV from there.”

He sees the way you hesitate when he pats the spot next to him, the way you seem to think of something that makes your eyes flash with sadness, the way your eyes then soften when they meet his. You push yourself up from the chair, you tug at your black sweatshirt as you walk towards the bed and finally sit down next to him. You lean back and pull your knees up to your chest. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, eyeing you slowly. 

You shake your head, murmuring a small ‘no’. 

He still reaches for the blanket that he bought a few months back. You get cold easily. 

He places the maroon colored blanket over your knees, giving you a sweet smile when you lay your head on your knees as you look at him with soft eyes. 

“What?” He whispers, chuckling. 

“Nothing,” you say with a smile that fades a little when you take a look at his knuckles. Eddie is surprised that you haven’t confronted him about them yet, how you haven’t asked or said anything. He wonders if you are mad or disappointed in him, or even scared – to think that you could be scared of him, makes him feel so horrible. He never wants you to be scared of him. 

He sees the way your eyes lose focus, you get lost in your thoughts, he can see it on your face, the way it loses the smile completely. He tries not to stare, but he can’t take his eyes off of you, he too gets lost in his thoughts when he thinks of the previous night. 

Neither of you pay attention to the sitcom playing on the TV, neither of you listen to the voices or the laughter, you are both too deep in your thoughts. Eddie clenches his bruised fist, trying not to wince at the ache in his side. 

You stare at him and when your eyes meet again, you finally open your mouth to ask the question that has been lingering on your mind for the past two days. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” 

Eddie freezes. His eyes widen and flash with confusion.

That isn’t your question. 

You regret it, instantly. Yet, you repeat it, phrasing it differently this time. 

“L-Like, do you expect me to have sex with you?” You ask nervously and with a guilty feeling in your stomach.

You never thought that that is what Eddie wanted or wants from you, you always thought that he was just your friend, the friend who loves you unconditionally and platonically. You never once thought that his touches meant that he wanted more and you still don’t believe that but Ray’s words have pushed you into a bad mindset, again. He made you feel insecure and so horrible about yourself. 

You aren’t interesting, he said. You are nothing but a good fuck, that is what he said.

“W-What?” 

You don’t look at him any longer, your eyes are filled with tears and you are looking down, unable to face him and it worries Eddie. 

“Of course not, sweetheart,” he says softly, wanting to reach out to touch your hand but he decides against it, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, “why would I expect that from you?”

You shrug, sniffling quietly. 

“I-It’s just Ray, he said some really nasty things to me.”

Eddie tries to stay calm, he tries to keep his anger at bay, not wanting to scare you.

“What did he say?”

You lick your lips as you try to blink away the tears that you don’t want to fall, you glance up at him again, you look into his chocolate eyes, feeling a sense of comfort in your chest when you stare at them. 

“He just, he was nice all night, we went to the movies and then we got some drinks and I-I thought that he really just wanted to hang out, to get to know me and just leave it at that, you know?” You say, finally telling him about the night. 

He nods.

“But then, he took me to Lovers Lake and then he kissed me, a-and then he tried to do more and I didn’t–” you pause, taking a deep breath when you feel the disgust and the anger and the fear rushing through again, “I didn’t want it, I pushed him away but he was so persistent a-and I was so scared, Eddie.” 

He stares at you, helplessly and angry at the man who did this to you. He has already done what he wanted to do, but he wants to do it again. He wants to hurt him, over and over again. 

He can’t stand the thought of you being so scared, of you feeling so helpless and afraid and small. 

“I slapped him and I tried to run but then he came after me, and then he said all these things to me. He told me that he never wanted to get to know me, t-that he just wanted to fuck me,” you say in disgust.

You clench your fists, not noticing how deep your nails dig into your palms, “cause apparently that’s all I’m good for, I’m a good fuck. I’m boring and not interesting enough to keep around, that’s why Steve dumped me. I am nothing but a good fuck, that’s all I am to others.” 

Eddie stares at you in shock. 

His soul is filled with anger and he wants nothing more than to go after him, again and again. 

He takes no offense to your question, he knows the state you were in after Steve left you, the insecurities and the thoughts you were dealing with. 

“It made me feel so, so worthless.”

Eddie’s heart aches at your words. 

You sit there, making yourself as small as possible, you wrap your arms tighter around your legs as you pull them closer to your chest, you wipe away the tears of anger and hurt and you look down with a trembling lip.

“Sweetheart, I hope you know that he was full of shit.” 

You hear the shakiness in his voice, you see the anger in his features when you look up at him, the mention of Ray is enough to fill Eddie with rage, you wonder what he looked and felt like when Ray was right in front of him. 

“Guys like him are used to things going their way, when they don’t, they get angry and frustrated, you bruise their ego, they’ll bruise you back in some way,” he mumbles the last part as he thinks of the bruises he had left on you, “and this guy, he’s a fucking psychopath, I can tell you that much.”

He won’t tell you everything, he won’t tell you what Ray said to him, you know he won’t. 

“Somehow, he knows how to fucking get to you,” he says, pausing to take a deep breath.

What does he mean by that?

“I-I mean, he knew how to get to you, he said things to you that he knew would hurt – but, it’s all bullshit, y/n, it’s all fucking bullshit. You are not boring in any way, shit, you’re the coolest person I know! You’ve always been the coolest person, sweetheart – even when you were still just listening to The Smiths and rewatching the same two movies every Friday, you were still the coolest fucking person on this planet!”

Your eyes widen, a smile tugs at your lips at his little outburst. 

“The whole planet?” You ask, giggling. 

“Yeah,” he smiles when he hears your giggle, “the whole planet, sweetheart.”

“There’s so many amazing girls you haven’t met yet though,” you point out, tilting your head. 

“There’s no one more amazing than you.” 

You smile but you don’t believe his words. 

Eddie eyes your whole face as his crosses with confusion, sadness and disbelief. 

You easily believed the words Ray said about you, but you struggle to believe his words. He thought you were doing better, he hoped so. 

“I shouldn’t have just gone after him, I should’ve gone after Harrington’s hair as well.”

To hear him admit that he went after Ray doesn’t shock you, you knew it from the moment you saw Ray at the hospital.

You shake your head with a chuckle. 

“I’m serious,” he says, nudging your knee with his hand, “he was an asshole to you. He didn’t deserve you.”

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

“It’s the truth, y/n. Steve never deserved you, he treated you like shit, he made you feel like shit.” 

Eddie knew it from the start, from the moment you first talked, from the moment you first spent time together, he could see the pain in your eyes, the insecurities that you have felt just because of him. Steve had the best thing he could get; your love. But he threw it all away, he never gave you what you deserved, he never treated you like he should have, he never loved you like you should have been loved. He gave it all to her, all the kindness, all the gentleness, all the trust and the love, she got it all without having to fight for it, without having to ask for it, he just gave it to her, he gave her the things that you deserved. 

Eddie would never admit it, but to see Steve treat his new girlfriend like the queen of the world, always made him so incredibly angry, that’s how he should have treated you when you were still with him but instead, he treated you like garbage, he betrayed you, he lied to you, he hurt you over and over again, he put other girls before you, he gave you nothing but pain and still, you stayed with him but he tossed you aside so easily and replaced you with another girl. 

“You believed Ray’s words, right?” 

You blink, looking down at your hands as you slowly nod. 

“Because of Steve,” he mumbles quietly, “he made you feel that way first, right?” 

Your heart drops a little, tears well up in your eyes again. 

Steve made you feel like you were never good enough, like you weren’t interesting enough, like you weren’t the right girl to be a girlfriend, like you didn’t deserve to be treated like a girl someone loves, like you were nothing more than a side piece because that is how he treated you most of the time. 

That is why his words had gotten to you. That is why you got drunk and high at a place you shouldn’t be at. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, sadly. 

Eddie looks at you with sad eyes. 

He doesn’t hate Steve, not anymore. He can tell that he changed, he knows that he regrets his actions and the way he treated you but he can’t help but feel anger towards him at this moment. 

You keep looking down, trying to hide the sadness on your face and tears in your eyes. Eddie reaches his hands out to you, slowly. He cups your cheeks and tilts your head up,  eyeing the look on your face as he wills himself to speak. 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. If I were him, I would’ve held onto you, I would’ve taken you on all the dates, I would’ve dropped all my shitty friends, I would’ve kicked Billy’s ass a long time ago, I would’ve never looked at any other girl if you were by my side, I would’ve treated you like the queen that you are,” he says, tapping your nose to make you smile and it works, it always does. 

Your eyes soften and you melt into his touch, smiling sadly at his words. 

You wish he would’ve done all of these things but, he never did. 

“I would have never let a bad thought get into this pretty head,” he says, tapping your forehead softly.

“And I certainly would have never let you go, ever.” 

Your brows knit, your eyes are glossy, again. You look into his soft brown eyes and you see nothing but the truth, he isn’t just saying that to make you feel better, to take away your pain. He is honest, he always is. 

Eddie watches you, he watches the way your eyes skip over his whole face, the way they flash with sadness and with fear as you think about his words and then you say something that shocks him, a little. 

“Please don’t.” 

His brows rise up, surprise crosses his features. 

“Please don’t ever let me go,” you whisper, your lip trembling when you reach your hand out to grab his wrist, “please don’t leave me.”

The smile falls from his face, his eyes widen with sadness. This time, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, he hugs you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I would never leave you, sweetheart. You will always have me.”

“Promise?” You ask shakily, just as you asked him once. 

You need him to stay. You can’t lose him, not after you had lost Steve already. 

“I promise,” he whispers, squeezing your sides as you hug him back tighter. 

You close your eyes and lay your chin on his shoulder as you melt into his embrace. He radiates warmth and comfort, safety and something you can’t understand yet. Eddie smells like cigarettes but you don’t mind, the smell of his cologne and his body wash covers up the smell of smoke. 

Eddie runs his fingers through your hair, finally holding you the way he has been craving to ever since that night. 

“I’ll marry you one day.”  

“What?” You ask, giggling. 

“I said; I’ll marry you one day,” he chuckles, not pulling away from the hug just yet. 

“Is that a proposal?” You joke, unable to fight the smile off of your face.

“Mhmm.”

“Where’s the ring?”

“I’ll give you one of mine.”

“I want the one with the black stone.”

“You got it, angel.”

You giggle again and he smiles at that. 

When you pull away and he sees that the tears are long gone, and a smile is playing on your lips, he pinches your cheek gently. 

“There’s the smile I wanted to see,” he grins. 

Your hair falls in front of your face when you look down at his hands. There are cuts and bruises on his knuckles, you are scared to touch them but you take one of his hands in yours and you softly touch the bruises with your fingers. 

You don’t need to talk about it, it’s enough to look at each other to understand it all. 

He watches you, again and he wonders what you are thinking. 

He clears his throat about to speak up but you beat him to it. 

“You know, I like your idea,” you say as you look at him through your lashes. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he starts, already smiling at you, “we should get married when we’re both 30 and still single.”

You laugh, “that sounds like a plan.”

“A good plan?” 

“The best. But, you don’t plan on spending your twenties without me, do you?” 

He scoffs, “never, what would I do without my best friend?”

Your heart skips a beat and for the first time after the horrible days you have had, you feel the happiness rushing back. You feel comforted and safe, you know that as long as you have him, your best friend, nothing bad will happen to you. The look in his eyes, the bruises on his knuckles are the evidence that he will do everything to keep you safe. 

This time, you are the one reaching out to touch him, you cup his cheeks and you surprise him when you pull him towards you to kiss him, to kiss his cheek. 

“You’re the best, Eddie,” you whisper before your lips meet his cheek again, “you’re my favorite person.”

You don’t pay attention to the way his cheeks flush red, you don’t see the way his eyes flash with something you haven’t seen before.

Eddie stares at you for the longest time and he suddenly feels flustered when he realizes that you can see the redness on his cheeks and his neck when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall and then, he remembers what Steve said to him last night.

It all comes rushing in and it overwhelms him.

He squeezes your hand, clearing his throat, “I-I’m gonna get us something to drink,” he says as he practically rushes out of his room, leaving the door open as he makes his way into the kitchen. He raises his hand, running his fingers through his hair as he lets out a long sigh. Turning on the lights, he places his hands on the counter, gripping it tightly. 

If only Harrington would have kept his fucking mouth shut.

Eddie was driving Steve back to his house, knuckles almost bleeding on the steering wheel, not a single word being said by neither of the men. Steve's temple was bruised, his fists as well and Eddie if he were to raise his shirt up, a bruise would be displayed on his rib.

The Harrington's house came into view and Eddie parked the car in front of it, waiting for Steve to come out. He heard the door open but it didn't close, making him turn to find Steve looking forward, eyes that Eddie could only describe as lost, yet with fire within them, as if angry.

“Munson.” It was the first time Steve has said a word to him.

“Yes Harrington?” And he was expecting a congratulations or a thank you or good job because of what they just did together to someone that hurt you. But Steve's gaze turned to him, a cold glare featuring in his eyes, and Eddie's face went rigid.

“You're a fucking liar.”

And then the door slams, and Steve Harrington goes back to his house, leaving Eddie Munson completely stunned inside of his van. 

Shit.

The sound of the freezer door closing startles him a little. He turns around with a frown, he finds you walking towards him with a bag of frozen peas in your hand, without a single word, you grab his right hand, placing the cold bag on his bruised knuckles. 

He looks down at you, swallowing nervously. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you whisper, finally addressing it. You look up with glossy eyes, a knowing look lingers in them, you did not know how to approach this topic but, you don’t really have to. You know why he did it.

“Sweetheart–”

“Thank you,” you whisper as a happy tear runs down your cheek because for the first time, you feel protected and loved after all these years of believing that you do not deserve this. Eddie proved you wrong, time and time, he proved you wrong and showed you that you do deserve this and more.

Eddie gazes down at you like you are the most precious thing in the world. 

He wipes your tear away the way he always does before he pulls you into his arms. He holds you, he holds you tightly, like he never wants to let you go, like no one ever has before.

Eddie enjoys this moment, just standing here in the kitchen under dim lights with you in his arms before he has to ruin the moment. 

“You should thank Steve too.”

He feels the way you freeze in his arms and he also feels how you don’t pull away. 

“Steve was there too?”

“He was.”

You don’t say anything, you stay quiet and then you whisper a small ‘oh’ before you relax again and hug him tighter, pressing your cheek against his chest as you listen to his beating heart. 

Eddie tightens his hold on you as well, he kisses the top of your head. 

“Anybody that hurts you won’t walk away without a bruise.” He whispers.

Something changed and you can both feel it, you don’t understand it, not yet.

-

You should not be here. 

You know that you should be far away from this place. 

It was bad enough that you had called him three nights ago, that you had let yourself be vulnerable in front of him, that you had spent the morning with him, that you had let him drive you home, that you had hugged him. It was bad but it was nice, it was nice to be with him again. 

To drive in his car, to feel his arms around you again, to see him look at you. 

You never realized how much you missed it, how much you missed him. 

Your thoughts kept taking you back to him, especially today. The record store was mostly empty today and you stood behind the counter, listening to the music playing on the radio and drawing in the notebook that Eddie gave you. 

When Heroes by David Bowie started playing, you felt like you were being haunted, haunted by memories of you and him together.

You shouldn’t let your heart guide you here but it did, you let it, just like you always do. 

You wanted to see him, to thank him for what he did but you didn’t want to see this. 

You should be used to it by now, after months of seeing him with her, it should be easier, right? It’s not. 

And as you stand there, watching him kiss her on his porch, smiling against her and brushing the curls out of her face, you can’t help but feel that it will never be easier. 

He looks happy, happier than he ever did when he was with you and even though you let him go a long time ago, you still feel the ache in your heart, the hollowness in your stomach. 

He used to kiss you like this, though he never looked at you the way he looks at her – with the light in his eyes and the smile on his face, the one that doesn’t look forced or fake. 

You hear her giggle when he drops the keys to his house. He picks them up and pulls her back towards him, leaning down to kiss her cheek before he opens the door to let her in. 

You never watched him so closely when he was with her, you always avoided it, not wanting to hurt yourself more than necessary but now, you can see it all, the love and the happiness in his features. 

He loves her. 

You always knew that he did, yet, somehow it feels like you understood it all just now. 

He loves her. 

He claimed to have loved you too and maybe he did, maybe he did love you but never like this. 

A weird feeling settles in Steve’s heart and he doesn’t know what it is that pushes him to turn around but he does, he looks back as though expecting to see someone standing in his driveway but it’s empty.  

He doesn’t see anything but trees and the empty streets. 

He furrows his brows, almost confused to not see anyone. 

“Steve?” Nancy calls from inside the house, “come on.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles to himself before he turns around and walks inside. He holds the door, not shutting it yet, he takes one final look at his driveway, staring at it for a long minute before he closes the door. 

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfiregirlxx @screammunson @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie didn’t even remember falling asleep. One second he was cradling the love of his life and the next his phone was blaring by his ear, forcing his eyes open.

That wasn’t even right, it was too loud to be his phone. It was two loud shrieking noises, bad enough to wake them both up. Steve blinked up at him, seemingly just as confused on how they’d gotten here as Eddie was.

Emotional exhaustion was a hell of a drug.

He didn’t know how long they were asleep for when he grabbed his phone, sleepily answering, “Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been?!” Chrissy’s voice greeted him, “I have been hiding in a damn airport bathroom for forty minutes! Like three people have already recognized me and I swear to God, if you aren’t here before that catches on-”

Fuck, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m on the way. Forty minutes, tops.”

“That doesn’t answer where you’ve been.”

Eddie glanced over at Steve, watching as he answered his own phone, “Steve came by and we talked.”

“He did?” Chrissy asked, on the edge of hopeful, “What did he say?”

“Well-”

“You SAID you would call me if it worked out! And did you call? No! You didn’t! Nancy and I are literally circling his apartment building because for all I know he could have killed you-”

Eddie watched, amused as Steve scrambled to take his phone off speaker. He tried to calm her down, “Robin, I’m fine. I’m sorry, we just got distracted.”

Eddie could still hear her yelling on the other end, muffled but still clear enough, “And how the hell would I know you’re fine? You had one job Steven, one!”

“Eddie? You there?” Chrissy voice asked, one more added to the madness, “Don’t leave me on a cliffhanger here! What happened?”

But Eddie’s mind was already wandering. As much as he loved Chrissy, leaving Steve here wasn’t high on his list of priorities. There was still a lot to talk about and shoving his best friend into his face after they just made up probably wasn’t a great call. But Robin was right outside.

His mind settled on an idea, it was a little out there but Eddie was selfish enough to try. Besides, if Chrissy hated it he could just take Steve along. He was going to meet her eventually anyway.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Eddie reassured, still half-listening to Steve’s conversation, “But things are still kind of fresh. How would you feel about someone else picking you up from the airport?”

“Who?”

“Steve’s sister?” Eddie tried, fully ready for her to call him crazy. He’d have to give her that one. He did technically make her fly all the way out here just to try and ditch her at the airport.

But Chrissy didn’t sound very put out. If anything she sounded curious, “Wait, you mean the girl from the pictures?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at the plural, “I only sent you one picture.”

The silence that followed told him everything he needed to know, “Have you been stalking this girl’s instagram?”

“I-no? Wait a sec, I’m not the one on trial here! Don’t interrogate me!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he’d give it to her, “But you’re open to the idea?”

“If you can guarantee I won’t be kidnapped and murdered maybe.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie said, turning to nudge Steve, “Hey baby, can you ask Robin a weird question?”

“Eddie wants to know if you’ll pick up Chrissy Cunningham from the airport,” Steve immediately asked. Evidently, Eddie hadn’t been the only one eavesdropping, “As long as you promise not to kidnap and/or murder her. But I’m going to add drooling too. Neither of you can make her uncomfortable, got it?”

It was kind of impressive how easily Steve turned that conversation around, like he knew exactly what Robin was going to say. Probably because he did.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, yes! We’ll do it!” Eddie heard from the other line, from what sounded like two separate voices, “But can you warn her we’re fans? We can only act so normal for so long. But we can keep a secret! We won’t like expose her or anything!”

Steve rolled his eyes, “All you have to do is drive her to her hotel. You can handle it for that long.”

“I’m paying for your hotel by the way,” Eddie said on his end, “And warning her and her girlfriend are both fans.”

“Damn right you’re paying for it,” Chrissy agreed, “I still have your credit card from the last time you were here. And uh, you said they’re both fans? Nancy too?”

Eddie paused, “Just how deep into the cyberstalking hole did you go with these people?”

“J-Just give me her number! I’ll let you know when I get there. Then you owe me every detail the second you are officially back together.”

Eddie bit his tongue, as he glanced over at Steve. He was running a hand through his hair, trying and failing to calm down the still screeching duo. Yeah, he was going to take one more day with him.

“I will,” Eddie promised, “When we figure it all out you’re the first stop. We’re coming straight to you, okay?”

“Good,” Chrissy said, appeased, “Enjoy him alone while you can.”

“I will. Thank you, Chrissy,” Eddie said, completely sincere, “For coming all the way out here for my dumbass. I love you, dude. See you soon.”

“Love you too.”

He hung up around the same time Steve did.

“I feel like we just started something,” Steve yawned as he laid right back down, “But I don’t know what.”

From the latest chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #damn your love damn your lies #fic update

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | wc: 509 | tags: established relationship, first time, virgin!eddie, just soft boys being soft, not the actual smut I am sorry | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is terrifying by @starryeyedjanai | @steddiemicrofic prompt "edge" | AO3)

Steve's hands start to shake as he lifts Eddie's shirt over his head, and when he fumbles with Eddie's belt, they shake so badly that he can barely get it unbuckled.

They've never done this before. Shaking like that when Steve touches someone he's attracted to, that is.

Because he never felt that way about anyone, not even Nancy.

Like he's on the precipice of something life-changing and once he goes over the edge there's no coming back.

He was 16 years old when he learned that monsters were real and that there was another world out there full of them. Within a few months, he lost his social status, his friends, and his girlfriend. In return, he got a severe head trauma, nightmares, and a bunch of kids who were too smart and too brave for their own good.

And yet, undressing Eddie in his bedroom is the scariest thing he's ever done.

"Are you okay, Stevie? You're shaking," his boyfriend asks him, as if this were Steve's first time and not his own. As if it's Steve who needs gentle reassurance.

Shit, maybe he does. It's like he doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't know how to show Eddie what this means to him, that Eddie trusts him so much. That Eddie loves him so much.

"I'm okay. Just a little nervous, I guess?" Steve concedes, too many things going through his head to put them all in words. "Are you okay?"

Eddie's steady hands wrap around his own shaking ones, squeezing them gently. "I'm good, Stevie."

He says it so simply, his voice as steady and sure as his hands, and Steve wonders how Eddie can be so calm when Steve's heart is pounding in his chest.

"But... aren't you, I don't know, nervous?"

He doesn't want Eddie to be nervous because there's no reason to be. Steve can't wait to explore every inch of that beloved body, to kiss every single scar and thank anyone who will listen that he's allowed to do that. His body and soul both long to get closer to Eddie, and soon they'll be as close as two people can be.

And yet, it feels like something might be wrong with him if Eddie doesn't feel any of the overwhelming fear that has Steve so nervous that he can't even get them naked without shaking.

Pulling Steve in, Eddie presses Steve's palm against the warm skin of his chest, just above his heart.

It's beating as fast as Steve's, and something settles inside him. He's not alone in this, Eddie is with him. Where one goes, the other follows.

"Oh, I am. I'm so fucking nervous, because I have no idea what I'm doing while you have all this experience. I don't want to let you down. But I'm still good because it's you, Stevie. You're here, so I don't have to worry, even though I'm scared."

Taking a step forward so that Steve's hand over his heart is trapped between them, Eddie kisses him gently.

"I'm safe with you."

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie drabble #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #steddiemicrofic #my writing #day 18

[kittycatasaurus]

Love Flavoured Chocolates (2023 Willy Wonka/Reader)

(Cross posted to my AO3, I'm obsessed with Wonka and wanted to share this purely self indulgent reader insert because there simply isn't enough out there and hey it might encourage me to write some more if other people can also enjoy my writing!)

Word count: 3.2k

Willy had come to the Galéries Gourmet with nothing but his love for chocolate making, a wish to once more see his mother, and a hat full of dreams. One thing he certainly hadn’t accounted for was falling in love. He’d first had the pleasure of meeting you the first time Noodle smuggled him out of Scrubitt’s.

You'd befriended the young girl in passing on the street after she’d bumped into you with her laundry cart while neither of you were paying quite enough attention to where you were going. Though the collision was soft enough to keep you both on your feet, she had knocked the book your face was buried in straight to the ground causing you both to startle. Immediately the pair of you burst into apologies (which had made you laugh, despite the girl’s sincere panic), “You’re alright little missy, that was entirely my fault for not looking ahead of me, I simply can’t put this one down, I’m so close to finishing this new tale of a young detective!” You attempted to ease her worry with a big smile, it seemed to work as the girl’s face shifted from concern to interest. “Is-is that the latest Nancy Drew story?” She asked eagerly, trying to get a better look at the book in your hand. With a simple nod, keeping the easy smile on your face you answered, yes. From there the pair of you spent at least a half hour chattering excitedly about the fantastical feats of the young investigator until a nearby clocktower chimed, making her realise she was falling way behind schedule and would soon have to return to the wash house with a few deliveries still to make their destinations. “It’s been wonderful talking to you miss, but I’m afraid I really must hurry along, I hope I run into you again, my name is Noodle in case you see me before I see you!” The girl, now known to you as Noodle, what an interesting name, jumbled out as she made off to scurry away to wherever she needed to be. “I hope I see you again as well Noodle, you’ve been a delight to talk to! The name is Y/N” You called out after her and continued your stroll once she was out of sight, only somewhat more aware of your surroundings this time.

After that initial encounter you had run into each other a few times, eventually budding a wonderful friendship wherein you shared books and life stories with one another. Gradually you learned of Noodle’s more than unfortunate living situation and provided her comfort and reassurance in any ways you could, be that a book from your collection which she hadn’t yet read or a warm hug and shoulder to cry on, the girl became a younger sister figure to you.

This was where Wonka came into the picture, you and Noodle by this point had been friends for the better part of two years and saw each other frequently so you were understandably concerned when you hadn’t seen her around for the last couple of weeks. Just when the worry was getting to the point of you preparing yourself to storm into Scrubitt’s and demand to know about the wellbeing of your friend you saw her, tucked away from the main roads and pathways, talking to her trolley? Now that is upsetting, such a beautiful young mind lost to the madness of her circumstance. As you were about to approach, rounding the corner of the wall you’d hidden behind, a man emerged from the trolley clearly in conversation with the young girl. If not for your sheer confusion, you would have hastily approached the stranger as instinct kicked in to keep Noodle away from any potential danger. She didn't appear frightened or startled so logic told you this was no stranger to her, and therefore not a threat. Upon the realisation, you called out to your friend whom you’d missed in the two weeks of absence, “Noodle! Where’ve you been, little lady?” Immediately, both heads turned to face you and your breath caught in your throat as the mystery man turned and you finally caught a glimpse of his face. It was a beautiful face too, puppy-like hazel eyes, framed by fluttery long lashes, thick full eyebrows sat above them, complimenting his slender, pale face. Both pairs of eyes were wide upon you but you were still taking in the gorgeous man before you, to the point you failed to hear Noodle as she repeated your name, asking “Y/N? What are you doing here?” At the lack of response, she followed up “Earth to Y/N?” with a somewhat exasperated sigh after. Seeing the man turn to face Noodle shook you from your reverie and you let out a sharp little “Hmm?” “I said, what are you doing here Y/N? Were you following me or something?” Her look caused a twang of guilt for a second until you registered that, no you hadn’t been following Noodle, just actively looking out for her as you’d thought her to be missing. “Of course not you numpty! I heard your voice coming from a sketchy alley and saw you talking to your laundry pile, I only wanted to check you were alright, especially considering I haven’t seen you in a few weeks kid! It’s completely understandable for me to be at least a little worried, even more so after seeing a strange man come out of your trolley,” Your voice was taking on a bit of a scolding tone as you softened it to turn to the aforementioned man “No offence.” He shook his head as though to imply none taken as his eyes flitted between the two of you, the friendly smile never once leaving his face. “I take it this is Y/N, Noodle?” his eyes remained on her this time as she nodded back to him. Well that was unexpected, this mysterious dreamboat knew who you were courtesy of Noodle, and while you were flattered she told this new ‘friend’ about you, you worried over what she said in order for him to deduce your identity.

Together, the pair of them explained their plan to get the money to free themselves of Scrubitt’s unfair debt, going into detail about the wondrous and impossible chocolates made by who you now know to be ‘Willy Wonka, future chocolatier extraordinaire’. In all honesty your mind is positively racing to keep up, but with such bright smiles on their faces you can only nod your support and shoot a smile back, albeit a smaller one.

———————————

That had been a while ago, though it felt even longer. By this point, you had collectively put a stop to the chocolate cartel and Scrubitt and Bleacher. Wonka’s chocolates were doing better than ever and with everyone from the wash house going back to their old lives, Willy was alone again, well mostly. Abacus Crunch had been happy to remain the financial adviser for Willy and the group would do their best to stay in touch thanks to Lottie Bell and her phone operator gig but it was definitely lonely, going from all those people around him, that warm environment to nothing again. Although, you were still around weren’t you? You and Noodle? While you both saw her often, upon finding her mother and the library where she stayed, it was less and less that you found yourself in the young girl’s company, she had years of catching up to do after all. You wanted to believe that was why you were seeing less and less of Willy too, but the pair of you had no reason not to see each other often, after all, you’d quit your boring old job to help out and work with Willy at his shop as soon as it had been acquired. So then why did it feel like he was avoiding you, or attempting to shut you out.

This is where you find yourself as you sit with Noodle outside her mother’s library one warm evening. “I don’t understand Noodle, he seems lonely, it's simply a fact that he thrives off of being around other people so I don’t understand why he’s shutting himself away” a too big sigh leaves your mouth. “I miss him, I miss his cheshire grin, the confusing way he talks, even just seeing his garish purple coat” “Hmmm, kinda sounds like you love him” “Yeah, I just don’t know what’s u- WHAT?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOODLE?” Your face burns red as your brain takes a minute to register what the young girl chimes in with. In response she holds up her hands, palms facing you, “I’m just saying it as I see it.” With a shrug she shakes her head. Though her words do make you stop and think back to the many months you’ve known the eccentric chocolatier.

The first day you’d successfully sold Wonka’s chocolates on the street had resulted in a quick getaway where you and Willy had ended up lost in the tunnels below the city, escaping the corrupt chief of police for an hour or two as you attempted to meet up with the others to get Willy back to Scrubitt’s with the others in time for roll call. At this point you hadn’t yet been alone together, and the lack of familiarity seemingly made Willy nervous to the point his breathing got panicked and you shared a rather intimate moment where you helped ease his discomfort with a simple breathing exercise and hand massage. “Willy, give me your hand please,” you spoke in the most gentle tone you’d ever mustered after his laboured breaths stabilised, he acquiesced rather quickly as you reached out to him, gently cupping his hand. “I’m gonna trace the lines of your palm okay? It might tickle but I promise you, you’ll feel better.” The smile on your face eased any remaining nerves and once you started to caress his palm with your thumb he seemed to lose the last of the tension. “See,” your voice was still incredibly gentle, but now you were both smiling though his was significantly smaller than usual, “You’re okay, sweetie, I’m here” The pet name left your mouth so naturally neither of you reacted, though a moment later you flushed realising the implied closeness of calling him such a name. With level heads you managed to safely navigate your way back to the others in time and wished Willy a restful night. In retrospect that may very well have been when you first started to develop feelings for the man, you could no longer tell, in the objectively short time that you’d known him, you could think of at least a dozen other times that may have stimulated this apparent crush of yours. Though one particular memory comes to mind more often than the rest. The most recent to boot, the day you reunited Noodle with her mother!

It was the day you’d put an end to the cartel, Willy would finally be free to run his chocolate shop and live out the dream he’d shared with his late mother. The celebration in the Galéries Gourmet seemed to go on forever as everyone enjoyed the chocolate fountain filling up cups seemingly endlessly. A group effort had the shop back together in no time, looking as good as new. As the sun was finally descending from its high perch, your friends from Scrubitt’s all said their goodbyes and well wishes to Willy, Noodle and yourself. Leaving the three of you to lounge about in comfortable silence for a while. “We have a surprise for you, Noodle!” You said excitedly to the young girl who was almost falling asleep where she sat. Exchanging eye contact with Willy, you rose with Noodle in tow. Wide awake after jolting her about, she rushed to keep up with both of your longer legs as you sped away from the shop. Stopping abruptly outside of the library, Noodle gathered her bearings with a confused expression on her face and heavy breaths leaving her lungs, “The library?? What could possibly be so important in there you felt the need to sprint AND drag me along too no less!” She was understandably irritated, but you knew it would be worth all the effort soon enough. “Close your eyes for a second for me Noodle-dee!” Willy told her cheerfully as you approached the door holding onto the girl’s hand to bring her with you. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “Now open them…” You whispered just loud enough for her to hear and comply. Before her, stood her mother, finally reunited after years of wishing and hoping. Immediately the two shared the warmest embrace you’d ever witnessed as you backed up and gave them their space, returning to Wonka’s side and overlooking the tender moment. A soft sniffle from beside you reached your ear and you glanced over to see Willy’s eyes glossy with unshed tears, the poor boy must’ve been reminded of his own mother in that moment, your heart hurt for him. “Come here sweetie,” you hummed to him, pulling the chocolatier into a comforting hug. “She’d be so proud of you right now, you know?” You got a teary chuckle in response to that as his arms wrapped around you. Noodle and her mother looked over to you now and you raised your arm in a wave to let them know you’d be heading back to leave them to catch up on all the time they’d spent apart.

The walk back wasn’t far, but it felt much longer without Noodle especially since you’d run practically the whole way there and were now strolling very leisurely. Neither of you said anything but you were touching in some way the entire time, holding hands for part of the walk, then switching to linking arms, even simply resting your hand on Willy’s back. Eventually you made it back to the shop, with the lights off, it was as though the magic was sleeping. As you entered ahead of Willy, you looked back to examine his expression, he wasn’t upset, of course not, he just reunited his dearest friend with her mother whom she thought long lost, perhaps forlorn was more accurate. The cogs in his head were clearly turning as he wrangled with his feelings, particularly regarding his mother and the seemingly impending loneliness he was soon to face. He stopped walking as soon as he entered, eyes still downcast as though expecting you to turn around and leave right then and there as well. With a low sigh you finally broke the silence “Willy, I’m not leaving you, not after that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just walked out after seeing those tears in your eyes.” He looked up, this time they had escaped and he had a sad pout on his beautiful lips. “Can you tell me about her? Have you got any pictures?” You’d not heard much at all about his mother from him aside from how much he loved her and that she was the inspiration for his dream turned reality. Willy gave a little nod and led you through the store to his makeshift office/home/break room, and on the desk sat a framed photo of a beautiful woman with a very familiar smile. “Wow this is her then? She’s beautiful Willy, you look so much like her.” You said the last bit somewhat under your breath as you realised the implication of what you said (as much as you meant it, it seemed a bit forward). You picked up the picture and sat down on the sofa in the room, patting the seat next to you for Willy to sit beside you, the rest of the night was spent listening to stories of his childhood and asking questions. The pair of you laughed, you cried, and eventually Willy fell asleep with his head on your shoulder. Getting as comfortable as the pair of you could, you let yourself join him in the land of dreams shortly after.

Now, it had been a few weeks since you and Willy had experienced the almost intimate exchange of life stories, as well as your chat with Noodle and you had the day off. Willy was on a break from work and went to visit Noodle at the library to tell her all about that night and how great a person he found you to be, gushing over how ‘kind, pretty, sensitive, and funny’ you were but somehow avoiding the ‘L’ word and seemingly ignoring his feelings for you. Eventually, the girl could take it no longer and burst out “Either ask her out, or I will do it for you! You’re such an idiot Willy, it's so obvious you love Y/N and I don’t understand how you’ve danced around it for as long as you have!” Noodle’s frustration was apparent from her face alone, if her words somehow hadn’t conveyed exactly what she meant them to. Willy’s eyes went wide at her outburst and his face started to resemble a tomato almost in how brightly he was blushing. As he opened his mouth to make a retort, Noodle interrupted him with a raised finger and a look that shut him up before he could even make so much as a noise. “Go see her now Willy, or I will.” Was all she had to say to get him standing up and practically sprinting out of the door.

A hurried knock at your door startled you out of your thoughtless stare out the window, you sat up abruptly, I’m not expecting any visitors, you thought to yourself as you walked cautiously over to the door. Through the peephole, you spotted the one and only Willy Wonka, pleasantly surprised, you opened up the door to be pulled into a tight embrace. Despite the initial shock, you quickly recovered to hug your dear friend back, “Heya, what’s gotten into you, sweetpea?” Genuinely confused as to the context despite reciprocating the affectionate action. Pulling back from you to look into your eyes, Willy responded, “I love you, Y/N.” Cue the widening of your eyes as you started to stammer out a reply, “Wh-what, huh, I-” “I love you, Y/N, I can’t believe it took Noodle calling me an idiot to realise it but I’m hopelessly, wholeheartedly in love with you.” He affirmed with a fire behind his gaze. You realised then that he wasn’t joking, this wasn’t a prank or him using the word in a friendly sense. “You, you do?” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you looked into his, “I love you too, Willy Wonka.” Not wanting to keep him in suspense, you confessed right back. A laugh broke free from your mouth as the tears started to fall from your eyes. Gently cupping either side of his face, you brought your lips together in a sweet kiss that felt like it could last forever, his hands finding a comfortable perch on your hips as you held each other close. Breaking apart for air, you both giggled, and leaned back into each other for another kiss, this one escalating a little past wholesome as you softly tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth. Breathing heavily now, you separated once more to stare into each other's eyes. Willy Wonka had confessed his love to you and you were ecstatic to say you felt the same. This would be the start of something beautiful, of that you were sure.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet wonka #reader insert

[bingbongsupremacy]

Camp Hawkins AU

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus sized reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N. This is my first time writing a plus size reader oneshot. As a plus sized person myself, I wanted to try it. I'm a little nervous tho. I know some people don't like it when ppl write insecure plus sized reader stories. I just feel like when I write, I put my emotions and my insecurities into the character as a way to work through them. I'm working on my confidence and some time I will write x confident!plus size reader oneshots, just not right now. Anyways, I hope you can understand that, and if you don't maybe try another story. Thank you.

P.S. I don't know how tf to flirt.

The story doesn't mention a lot about being plus sized but it is there.

Summary: It's your third year being a camp counselor at Camp Hawkins and your 7th year knowing Steve. Every year your crush seems to grow stronger and stronger.

*Not Proof Read*

ABC List Stranger Things Masterlist

*****

" Bunk 23. " Eddie, one of the head counselors grins while handing me a set of keys.

I groan. " The bunk with the bats? Eds, are you serious. "

Last year a bat nest was found in the corner of one of the old wooden beds. Nobody had checked the cabin before letting campers and counselors inside, resulting in a nasty surprise halfway through the first week.

Eddie shrugs. " Sorry, kid. I don't assign the bunks, I just tell people where to go. " Eddie's eyes shift over my shoulder. " Steve! There ya are, my boy. Long time no see. What's going on? "

I feel my annoyance begin to melt away as the sound of boots makes its way towards us. It's quickly replaced with a flutter type feeling in my stomach, a feeling that's been stuck with me for the past seven years.

I turn to look at the cause of my emotions.

Steve grins at the man behind me. A large leather duffle bag hangs off of his left shoulder. In his right hand, a small rolling suitcase, the same grayish color as his coat, squeaks along. The same two bags he's used since I met him. Steve pulls off his glasses, sending a dazzling smile towards Eddie and I. " Same old, same old, Ed. Hi, Y/N. "

His grin sends waves of happiness flooding through my body. I love the way he says my name.

I do my best to keep my composure. I return the smile, adding in a small wave as well. " Hey, Steve. "

" So what's this I hear about you and Nancy? A little birdy tells me you're back together again. " Eddie asks, leaning against the desk in front of him.

Nancy and Steve. The always on and off high school sweethearts.

I have no shot with Steve. I mean, he's obviously still head over heels for her if he keeps going back to her. I guess deep down I hope he'll finally see me as someone other than his chubby fellow camp counselor.

Picking up my heavy bags, I excuse myself from the conversation. " Hey, I'll catch you guys later. I'm gonna go check out the cabin, make sure no bats are hanging around. "

" Do you need help with your bags? They look a little heavy. " Steve offers, moving to set his stuff down on the ground.

He's so sweet. He always have been. No wonder I have a huge crush on him.

" No, " I shake my head. " I've got it. It's not to far. " I smile.

" But Bunk 23's on the other side of the-" Eddie begins.

I interrupt him. " I'm probably going to stop at the dining hall and see if Robin's there yet anyways. I'll be okay. " I reassure them.

" Oh, okay. " Steve nods, glancing down at the heaviest duffle bag I have.

I'm definitely regretting packing extra crafts. I just didn't want any of the kids to get bored during free time.

" Cya guys. " I shuffle towards the door. The floor creaks beneath me as I walk out onto the main cabins' porch.

Maybe some day I'll mean more to Steve Harrington.

_____

" He literally offered to help you. Why didn't you take him up on that? " Robin groans in frustration. Strands of hair that slipped out of her hat frame her flour splotched face. Bits of dough and other mysterious stains cover the front of her apron, making it look like a doughy murder scene.

She leans on the serving window counter, her arms cradling her head.

" He was just being nice. I mean, if I saw you carrying heavy bags of flour, I'd offer to help you. It's something everyone does- be nice to the people you know. It doesn't mean they like you. " I argue. I fidget with the lid of my water bottle.

" That's different. "

I narrow my eyes at the woman. " How is that different? "

Robin lets out an annoyed grunt. " You and me, " She points to the two of us. " have no chemistry. You and Steve on the other hand..." She waggles her eyebrows, sending a warm feeling climbing up my face.

I roll my eyes.

" Have a fuck ton of chemistry. Like sometimes I feel like it's choking me. " She makes a pretend choking sound. " Please! Y/N! Steve! Just make out already. Please, for the love of god! Save me! Save humanity from the horrors of watching you two interact while denying your feelings! "

I gently hit her forearm. " Shut up. That's not true, literally shut the fuck up. " I mutter.

Robin laughs. " It's so true. Ask literally anyone that hangs around you guys. Why do you think Nancy and Steve keep breaking up? "

That can't be true. Relationships have issues. There's no way in hell Steve and Nancy keep breaking up because he likes me. That's...insane.

" Your a catch, y/n. You need to start realizing that. People-they have crushes on you too. "

I turn my head to meet Robins gaze.

" You're not the only person in the world who doesn't have someone attracted to them. I mean, if fucking Mike Wheeler can have a girl crushing on him, so can you. "

It's just hard for me to believe someone like Steve, Ex Captain of the Hawkins basketball team, could like someone like me. I'm pretty sure he's only ever seen me as a friend. All these years, transitioning from campers to counselors, he's never made a move on me. In all fairness, I haven't exactly made a move on him either...in my defense, Steve and Nancy are on and off so much, a flickering light bulb has more predictability.

This is all so confusing.

-----

" Welcome campers! " A loud voice booms from on the old cement stage.

Slowly chatter from the excited campers begin to die down.

Jim Hopper, a retired sheriff and the new owner of Camp Hawkins, begins to speak again. " We're so excited to have you here. Each of you have been assigned a bunk and a counselor... " Jim's voice begins to fade from my mind. The same words have been repeated year after year, not that I mind. It's a familiar introductory speech, something I know will never change.

I look behind the older man. The gorgeous quarry shines from the sunlight. Post card worthy.

" You're bunk 23, right? " Steve's voice asks from next to me.

I was so lost in thought I hadn't noticed he took a seat next to me.

I send him a smile. " Yeah, The bat bunk. " I mumble.

Steve grins. " I'm bunk 24. "

" Oh nice, I guess we'll be seeing each other a lot then. Well, " Stupid, the kids do basically everything together. You're going to see him a ton anyways. " More than usual I guess. "

Steve chuckles slightly. A sound that sends waves tumbling through my insides. " I don't mind. You're good company. "

I feel a familiar warmth sprawl across my face. " You're not so bad yourself, Harrington. "

A look of amusement finds its' way onto Steve's face. " Hey, I know you're not a huge fan of bats...or other flying creatures, " He references my first year here as a camper.

I let out a groan at the embarrassing memory. " That was so long ago. The bird literally came out of nowhere. " I vividly remember that morning. It was still dark when Steve and our friends got the bright idea to go check out the quarry. A bird flew out of one of the nearby bushes, nearly smacking into my face.

Steve laughs, his milky brown eyes glinting from the sunlight. " Hey, birds can be terrifying. I'm not judging you. " He holds up his hands in a playful surrender. " I was just saying, if you want, I can come over to your bunk and check it out. Make sure no flying surprises are hidden anywhere. " He offers, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

My heart flutters. God, he's so sweet. " I don't want to inconvenience you, I mean, it's probably fine. I doubt the bats returned. "

" Really, I don't mind. It's not an inconvenience, if anything, I'm doing this for my bunk. I mean, I don't really feel like waking up to a bunch of people screaming at 3 in the morning. "

My eyebrow raises. " Oh? So you're doing this for you then...for your interests. "

Steve tilts his head slightly. " I guess you could say that. "

The campers around us begin to gather up their bags, making their way towards Eddie and Jonathan who have lists of where everyone's supposed to go.

Steve stands up, extending a hand towards me. " So what do you say, Y/N. Do you want Pest Control Steve to come take a look at your bunk? "

I cringe at his stupid name, causing him to laugh.

" Only if you never call yourself that again. " I accept his hand, standing up from the cement row.

Steve's hand firmly holds onto mine for a few seconds longer after we've stood up.

From over his shoulder Robin catches my eye. Her eyes flicker between our hands and back to my eyes. She mouths a silent ' He fucking likes you ', which I ignore.

I release Steve's hand, shoving mine into my pocket.

For a moment, a flicker of confusion? Maybe disappointment flashes across Steve's features. He obviously ignores it, moving to fold his arms across his chest. " Deal. "

I smile at the man. " Deal. "

I look at him for a second longer before I'm quickly swept away by the campers in my bunk.

My mind analyzes our conversation over and over again, completely ignoring whatever Eleven is telling me while we walk back to our bunk.

He couldn't like me. Right?

_______

" I think you guys are clear. " Steve says, poking his head back out from under the last bunk. He glances up at the top of the bunk, making sure there's nothing hidden in the corners.

" Thank you so much, Pest Control Steve, what would I ever do without you? " I cringe slightly at my words, shaking my head. " You know what, never mind. I thought it would be funny but no. "

Steve laughs at my attempt at mockery. " You'd live in uncertainty. " He makes his way towards me, leaning against the open door frame.

Outside the kids are running around playing capture the flag, their yells echoing slightly around the bunk.

" Sure...I'd probably just get Eddie or Jim to look around. You know how much they love me. "

Steve slightly leans towards me. " They wouldn't check as well as I do. I do have a five star rating in customer service. " His voice is soft but teasing.

My eyes flicker down to his lips.

He's so close. Just a few inches away. If I wanted to, I could kiss him.

I do want to...

But I can't.

What if him and Nancy are still dating?

Fuck, I should've stuck around and waited to hear what he had to say about their relationship.

" Y/n! El got another bloody nose! " Dustin's voice suddenly shouts.

My head snaps towards the direction of the boy. His face goes from worried to grinning in a matter of seconds.

" Wait, " He looks between Steve and I.

Without waiting for him to finish, I snatch a roll of paper towels from the desk near the door. I hurry out of the bunk, leaving the two guys behind.

" Oh my god, Dustin... " Steve's voice groans.

" Were you guys about to..." Dustins' voice fades away as I make my ways towards a group of kids. I push past them, kneeling in front of El.

Perfect timing.

-----

The dining hall is bursting with noise. Kids sit together, eagerly talking about their first day back at camp.

I grab a plate and nervously head into the kitchen.

Food. My least favorite part of the day. I don't know if it's just the fear or people watching me eat or the possibility of someone making fun of me for eating too much. I should be used to it by now, I've eating around people for my entire life, but I'm not.

Every meal time still brings unnecessary anxiety.

Robin leans against one of the walls, a iced drink in her left hand. As she raises the glass to take a sip, droplets of condensation run down her arm. " About time you showed up. I basically had to threaten Eddie with a knife for him to back away from your portion of chicken tenders. He does not go down without a fight, I'll tell you that. " She chuckles.

" Thanks. " I begin putting some food onto my plate.

There's a moment of silence. " So. " Robin looks at me expectantly.

" So? " I ask, confused. I lean against the counter across from her. The counter hidden from the view of the dining hall.

Robin rolls her eyes. " Aren't you going to tell me about it? "

" What are you talking about, Robin? "

Robin lets out a sigh of annoyance. " Oh my god, Y/N. The kiss! "

Still lost, I set my food down. " What kiss? "

Finally, Robin blurts it out. " Dustin told me he saw you and Steve making out in your bunk. "

My eyes widen. " What? No. Robin, we weren't making out, that little..." I shake my head. " Steve and I were talking. Just talking. "

Robin raises an eyebrow. " Are you sure, Y/N, I'm your best friend. You can literally tell me anything-you literally have told me basically everything. "

" Robin, I swear. If anything were to happen, you'd be the first to know. Steve and I didn't do anything. "

" Doesn't mean something won't happen in the future though. " Robin smirks.

I roll my eyes. " He has a girlfriend, Robin. I'm not making a move on a taken guy. "

" They'll probably be on break by the end of the month. "

I pick up my plate again. " I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't get myself wrapped up into that. I mean, they'll probably eventually get back together. I don't want to be a rebound or something. "

Robin hops onto the counter, taking a seat in the empty space. " Steve's not like that. "

Yeah, he doesn't seem like the type of guy to do that. But, hey, maybe I don't know him as well as I think I do.

" So Dustin's going around telling everyone? " I say in discomfort. Even if we had kissed, I don't want everyone to know.

Robin shakes her head. Her hair is finally free from her hat. " Fuck no. I was the first person he saw and the first person he told. I told him I'd feed him to everyone for dinner if he says anything to anyone. " She lets out a small laugh. " Scared him shitless. "

I shake my head. " Of course you did, Rob. "

_____

The moon reflects off the quarry beautifully. Finally, there's bit of quiet. All of the campers are huddled together in the dining hall, playing random board games.

Their voices and music fade away as I walk closer to the water. I love being a counselor, but it definitely gets overwhelming at time. I look forward to going down to the Quarry every night, just for a little bit to clear my head.

As I get closer to the waters' edge, hear a twig snap. I snap towards my right side, the direction the sound came from.

A familiar jacket catches my eye.

Hanging over a nearby log, the sleeve of Steve's jacket shines in in the moonlight.

" Fuck, I'm sorry. " I blurt out as soon as I see the pair. On top of the jacket sits Steve. On his lap is Nancy, her arms wrapped around Steve's white t-shirt clad shirt. Nancy's legs are wrapped around his hips, pulling him into her embrace.

The pair pull apart, obviously surprised by my intrusion.

Nancy looks slightly embarrassed. " Oh I'm sorry. We didn't think anyone would be out here this late. " She apologizes, quickly getting off of her boyfriend.

I don't bother to look at Steve, knowing anything I see will send a pang of even more embarrassment and jealousy through my heart.

Don't be jealous.

Don't be jealous.

He doesn't like you. He never will. He's with fucking Nancy. It'd be wrong if he liked you.

Plus, Nancy is so sweet. How could I hurt her by dating Steve?

I turn around quickly, hurrying back down the path towards the dining hall.

Steve will never like someone like me.

#fanfiction #fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x plus size reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #stranger things x y/n #stranger things #st4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x yn #plus size reader #x plus size reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #fat reader #x fat reader #x steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eleven stranger things #mike wheeler #dustin henderson

[queerofthedagger]

you can leave (don't go far)

[Steddie; no warnings; ao3]

---

At the one-month mark of dating Steve, Eddie starts a list.

To the One Who Loves Him Next:

— 1. If you hurt him, I will find you and make you regret the day you were born this side of the dimension. Yes, this is a threat; no, you don’t need to understand it beyond: be good to him.

It isn’t a serious, sentimental reason that makes him start writing, is merely something born out of a little too much whiskey, band practice, and contemplation of Steve’s—everything, really.

It grows, though. For reasons that Eddie is aware of but tries not to think too much about, he does not tear the page out of his notebook the next morning, doesn’t cross out the words or burn them in the kitchen sink.

So this is how it starts; a threat of bodily harm because Eddie does not think he could bear ever seeing Steve hurt again. A message to a stranger because Eddie does not entirely trust himself to be the one who will make Steve happy for the rest of their days, no matter how badly he wants to.

---

— 2. He will always love Robin more than you (although in a different way). Accept this; it is a good thing.

The summer of ‘86 is dwindling, fall stretching its spindly fingers across the golden Indiana fields, and if anyone were to ask Eddie, he would say that things between him and Steve are good. Great, even, better than he had dared to hope for, back in summer when he had kissed Steve for the first time, half-certain that whatever Vecna and his bats had failed to accomplish, Steve would finish any second now.

He hadn’t; instead, he had kissed Eddie back as if it was the first breath of fresh air in years, and somehow, Eddie had been allowed to keep him. They don’t go shouting it from the rooftops, but their friends know. Wayne knows. The people who matter know, are happy for them if, perhaps, sometimes a little exasperated with their utter inability to keep their hands to themselves.

So when Robin appears on Eddie’s doorstep on one early September evening, the sky a riot of pink and orange behind her, he isn’t remotely prepared for anything but a friendly visit.

“I need to talk to you,” she says, and waits just about long enough for Eddie to sit down at the rickety kitchen table before she adds, “It’s about Steve. About both of you.”

“Did something happen, is he alright? I thought—“

“He’s fine,” Robin cuts in, an apology flashing in her sharp eyes before it’s all unyielding resolution again. “It’s getting serious between you two, right?”

Even with the reassurance, the dread settles in Eddie’s stomach, his fingers fiddling with his rings.

It is, though, the initial infatuation giving way to something solid. Something a little terrifying, if Eddie is honest, but worth it. So, so worth it.

“Yes,” he says, holds her eyes, still not sure what the purpose of this is. As much as he likes her, he doesn’t have whatever freaky intrinsic understanding she and Steve share. He’s fine with this, most days, but right now it feels like she knows something he does not, and he has never handled that feeling particularly well, so— “I don’t see how that is any of your business, though.”

He knows it’s a stupid thing to say the moment he does, not that it is of any use by then.

She smiles, somehow both mirthless and understanding. “Look, Eddie, I like you. You know that I like you, right?”

She actually waits until he offers her a jerky nod in response. He kind of wants to crawl out of his skin.

Finally sitting down across from him, she leans her elbows on the table; he has the distinct impression of being an insect pinned to a board.

“See, Steve is… He is serious about this, has been from the start. And while I wasn’t around when the entire thing with Nancy blew up, I still picked up a great many of the pieces. It’s taken some considerable time and effort, and as much as I love Steve, as much as I am willing to pick up his pieces, over and over, until the end of our days, I would prefer if he didn’t have to shatter in the first place.”

It isn’t exactly what Eddie expected, but now that the words lie on the table between them, he isn’t actually surprised.

He smiles, can’t help it. “Are you giving me a shovel talk, Buckley?”

Her posture doesn’t change, and neither does her expression. “Yes. I like you, as does everyone else, but I’m not above bribing El into making you disappear, no matter what baby Wheeler or Dusty-bun have to say about it. If you’re not serious about this, now is the time to get out with your pretty face intact. Last chance.”

Eddie thinks of the start of a list, still at the back of his notebook. Thinks of Steve’s tired eyes and the walls he builds, and how Eddie has been taking them down slowly, carefully, brick by brick. How Steve lets him. Thinks of how Steve touches him, fingertips dancing across skin with a gentleness that Eddie still isn’t sure he deserves, and how even among lingering suspicion and Hawkins’ cage and the suffocating need to get out, every single day with Steve is like finding true north.

He thinks of his fear and his uncertainty, of how a part of him still expects Steve to wake up one day and finally realize that Eddie isn’t worth all this, that he still wants the Winnebago and the six kids and the sticky-sweet picket-fence-life more than he wants Eddie’s chaos and Eddie’s music and all of Eddie’s stupid, annoying idiosyncrasies.

Thinks of fear and jumping and outrunning the past, of the fierce protectiveness in his heart that is also shining back at him from Robin’s eyes.

He smiles. “I can’t promise to never hurt him, Buckley, we both know that. But if I ever do it on purpose, you have full permission to get El to snap my neck and dump me in the quarry.”

He means it, too, is the thing. She keeps looking at him, the old kitchen clock ticking in the background, steady. Eventually, she gives him a sharp nod before her features soften back into familiarity.

“Good,” she says, and she’s already getting back up again while rummaging through the pockets of her jacket. “Here, you’ll need these even if Steve is too proud or stubborn or—well. You know.”

Moments later, he is alone again, with a list crammed onto a single sheet of paper in Robin’s looping hand. It is a careful, organized collection of: what triggers Steve’s migraines. What helps against Steve’s migraines. What helps after nightmares. Random things to avoid due to assorted trauma. What to do when he ties himself up in knots over the kids or his parents or any of the things he worries about too much.

It goes on, is, Eddie realizes, a complete run-down of every little piece of knowledge Robin has on how to take care of Steve.

Eddie has no doubt that she herself does not need it written down, that she has accumulated all these little pieces of information naturally because she is the one person that Steve has no hope of fooling.

Whatever misplaced strands of prickling jealousy had still been tangled around Eddie’s heart finally dissolve. He takes the list and adds it to the page in his notebook that has another one already started; just in case Robin ever has to make good on her promise.

---

— 3. He is the most self-sacrificing person you will ever meet, but he is also still a bitch at heart; don’t take it personally (in fact, sometimes it’s fun to encourage him, but don’t tell anyone).

See, the thing is, Eddie has never been particularly great at following instructions—probably would have had fewer troubles finishing school if rules came easily to him.

So when Steve goes down with a bad migraine, Eddie does not, in fact, do as Robin’s list tells him and leaves him alone.

Yes, sure, at this point, he can gracefully take his second place, can easily admit that she would know best, especially after those post-Starcourt days where migraines had been a far more regular occurrence, but—

But. Failure to deal with instructions aside, it also simply feels wrong; to heed the signs, stock up the kitchen, and leave Steve to his silent suffering.

So he pushes. He knows he shouldn’t but he does, asks, “Are you sure you’re alright, I can move the DnD session—“

He should know better even without Robin’s list, really, but then, Eddie has never claimed to be a smart man. Especially not when it comes to Steve.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Just a long shift and—“

“Oh come on, that’s bullshit,” Eddie snaps, stepping closer. He freezes when Steve steps back.

“It’s not bullshit, I’m fine. I don’t need you to hang around here whining that you missed nerd night—“

“—that’s not—“

“Not to mention that it’s not as if there is anything you could do. Last I checked, you had neither superpowers nor sudden mind-reading skills, so how about you let me decide whether I’m fine or not? I’m not one of your made-up damsels in distress, you do know that, right?”

Eddie watches as regret washes across Steve’s face instantly, but it only marginally lessens the sting of it. He grits his teeth and grabs his jacket from the kitchen chair.

“Fine, deal with it on your own then.”

“Fine,” Steve bites back; pain always makes him more bitchy, not that he lacks the skill on the best of days.

Eddie isn’t pissed enough to slam the door when he leaves, but it’s a close thing.

---

The little anger Eddie could muster up has drained away once he drops the kids back home that night. He is itching to check on Steve, to apologize, to convince him to let Eddie take care of him, damn his stubborn pride, but he doesn’t.

It takes almost two days until there is a knock on the door of the trailer, Steve looking washed-out and tired and, most of all, sheepish.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped—“

Eddie pulls him inside, kisses him lightly as soon as the door is closed. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “I should have known better.”

Steve’s brows furrow, even as he keeps leaning into Eddie, as if the mere prospect of stepping out of his space physically pains him. “You couldn’t have known that I turn into an asshole who snaps at his boyfriend when he wants to take care of me.”

Shrugging, Eddie kisses him again, stays close, nose brushing along Steve’s. “Call it an inkling; now come on, you can make it up to me by listening to the retelling of the absolute disaster that the session was.”

There is a moment where Steve keeps looking at him, eyes dark and serious and fingers digging a little more firmly into Eddie’s sides—as if he isn’t entirely sure that it can be this easy.

In the end, though, he nods, smiles a little. Follows Eddie into his room, already asking all the right questions, and Eddie vows right then and there that it will always, always be exactly that easy.

---

— 4. His parents are absent more often than not and his father is a bastard, but he will still miss his mother on her birthday. Don't try to distract him; if he trusts you with this, simply be grateful (muffins help; so does whiskey).

It isn’t on Robin’s list, so when early February rolls around and Eddie wakes to an empty bed, he doesn’t think anything of it, at first. Later, when he finds Steve staring into space in the kitchen, when the smile once Steve notices him is brittle around the edges, when Steve’s coffee goes cold and the house stays silent and the space between them seems to twist and grow, he thinks it’s another migraine.

He runs a careful hand down Steve’s arm, presses his mouth to his temple. “Want me to leave?”

Steve frowns, turning to look at Eddie. He seems as if he is about to say something but clothes his mouth again, fingers tangling in the front pocket of Eddie’s hoodie. “No, I just—stay?”

Perhaps the most devastating part of it is that he sounds uncertain about it, the hesitation in his voice settling like pins and needles beneath Eddie’s skin.

He steps closer, watches Steve’s face for the dismissal that never comes, and loosely wraps his arms around him. “Of course,” he finally says, exhaling carefully when Steve’s forehead comes to rest against his collarbone.

It’s a gamble, to ask, but Eddie’s always been willing to risk too much when it came to Steve. “Want to talk about it?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t answer, long enough that Eddie accepts that he won’t actually get one.

The light shifts in the kitchen, the February days still short and tentative. Eventually, Steve huffs, though, as if he is annoyed with himself. “It’s my mom’s birthday. She’s… Back when I was a kid, we used to spend the day baking and watching stupid movies and—I mean we haven’t done this in ages, it’s not like it matters but—“

“Of course, it matters,” Eddie says, with more vehemence than he means to. “Sorry but—if it matters to you, it matters. There’s no use in beating yourself up over it.”

Steve grimaces, toying with the loose threads on Eddie’s hoodie. “Yes well, I’d like it to not matter, though.”

Humming, Eddie looks through the dimly lit kitchen, this quiet sanctuary that isn’t really theirs, at the end of the day. “Let’s override it, then.”

“Literally what are you—“

“We’re going to bake something. Or well, you tell me what to do and do most of the work while I look pretty and snack on the dough. We’ll make something simple, and then we’ll watch a bunch of stupid movies you can pick and—“

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to, though. If you do, anyway—we can do something else if you’d like. Anything but go hiking, that is, you’re not getting me to—“

He’s cut off when Steve kisses him, hard enough that Eddie staggers a little with the force of it.

It’s good, though; they make muffins that Eddie drowns in frosting and sprinkles, watch enough Monty Python to make Eddie’s brain leak out of his ears, and fall asleep on the couch once the sugar high fades, afternoon melting into evening.

If Eddie opens Robin’s list back up the next day to make sure he doesn’t forget to make a tradition out of it, if it ends up on two lists because for all the love threatening to crack his ribcage open, Eddie still does not trust himself regardless, not fully, not enough, well—

Then that is no one’s business but his own, is it?

---

— 5. Always, always put him first; he deserves someone to do that, for once. I am too selfish to give him up and too selfish to not ask for more than everything, so if I do have to let him go one day, you'll better make it worth it.

“Are you really sure about this?”

It is the umpteenth time that Eddie asks this, and Steve merely rolls his eyes. Leans over the open door of the Beemer to kiss him once, still not bothering to answer.

It’s sweet, the way it all has been sweet; the pipe dreams of getting out of Hawkins, the even bigger pipe dreams of large cities and small gigs for the band. Eddie’s future has always been one big pipe dream, and then came Steve Harrington, determined to spin them into something real and solid.

Because of course, he does; he is the most self-sacrificing person Eddie knows, and no matter how often he asks—what about you, your six kids and the Winnebago and all those sugary dreams that should be far more attainable than whatever Eddie dares to hope for—Steve always smiles. Always kisses him, easy, and says that it’s fine. That he’s happy wherever Eddie and Robin go, and isn’t it lucky, how they seem to agree, for once in their lives, that San Francisco is a good choice.

Perhaps the worst thing, Eddie thinks as he drops into the car stuffed with what little they own, is that he believes him, too.

He presses his fingers to the warm skin of Steve’s neck when they drive past Hawkins’ exit sign for the final time, and he prays and prays and prays that one day, he can make it up to him.

---

The plan was never for Steve to come across the list, at any point.

More than once, Eddie had been this close to throwing it away, to scoffing at himself and his sentimentality, his fear, the way he sometimes still looks at Steve, sun-kissed and happy, and cannot believe that he is allowed to keep this. That he won’t fuck this up.

He never does, though, always stares at the points, the few there are, and thinks that if one day he does have to let Steve go, he wants—

Well, it’s complicated. No one will ever see that list, least of all whoever Steve will love that isn’t Eddie.

Eddie will know that it exists, though, that he wrote it and what it says. He’ll remember the time that he wished Steve happiness even if it wasn’t with him. He cannot allow himself to forget this, even if—if—despite his trying and holding on and all this overwhelming, aching, solid love, the most important thing in his life does implode, one day. 

Which is, of course, why Steve has to find the list eventually. He has a knack for it, Eddie likes to joke, to always get into the places he should stay far away from, find the things he is not supposed to see, without any fault of his own.

It’s particularly stupid because it’s Eddie who throws him the notebook, meaning to show him some notes for a campaign for when the kids visit.

In his defense, he does have a lot of notebooks. He really should have thought of it anyway, though.

He doesn’t notice that anything is off for at least five minutes either, still thumbing through the Monster Manual and keeping up a steady stream of commentary.

It’s only when Steve fails to laugh at one of those really dumb jokes that he never fails to laugh at that Eddie finally looks up.

There is nothing particularly obvious about the sight; Steve sitting on their couch, brows furrowed, random black notebook lying on the coffee table in front of him. Somehow, Eddie knows, though.

He has the dumbest urge to snatch the notebook away. To claim that it isn’t like that, tear out the page and burn it in the ashtray, pretend it never existed in the first place.

Instead, he keeps very, very still. It is the first time in a long time that he has no idea how Steve is going to react to something, isn’t sure at all whether he will get a stupid joke and teasing for being a sap, or hurt for thinking that they won’t last, or—

He doesn’t know, is the thing, and it makes him itch with the urge to do something. Anything.

In the end, though, Steve merely closes the notebook carefully and looks up. His expression is soft, a little exasperated, and anything Eddie might have wanted to say tangles and sticks and stays in his throat.

“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, voice quiet. He gets up and walks over to where Eddie is sitting at their desk, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“But you love me?” Eddie can’t help but ask, leaning his head back until he can look at Steve, upside down and still obnoxiously pretty.

Steve huffs, and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s mouth, his nose, his forehead. “But I love you and, for what it’s worth, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie says, and he thinks all the love and the warmth and the tenderness must show on his face because Steve kisses him again, again and again until Eddie’s neck hurts and his lips are bruised.

Which, really, if he had known that this was the reaction he’d get, he would have shoved the list at Steve ages ago.

---

Eddie thinks that is the end of it, the gentle teasing Steve levels at him about his attempt to be threatening notwithstanding.

He isn’t even sure when Steve does it, but one day Eddie opens the godforsaken notebook again and finds a loose scrap of paper tucked between his and Robin’s list.

To the One Who Loves Him Next (Steve ’s Version):

Learn to love his music and the campaigns he writes; you don’t have to become either metalhead or nerd, but if you do not love his enthusiasm, I know someone with a wicked aim.

He gets nightmares, and he will not tell you what they are about. Even if you knew why he had them, it wouldn’t change anything; just be there, make sure there is always a small light on somewhere, and if all else fails, reading from the Lord of the Rings helps.

He is a package deal; even if I have to lose him, he has a family that loves and needs him, and neither you nor I will be the reason that he has to go without them. We also share joint custody of a bunch of really annoying kids; be nice to them or see the point about someone with a mean aim.

Defend him; he will pretend that the vitriol doesn't get to him, but he deserves better, anyway.

If you hurt him—run. I'm probably just waiting for an excuse to try and win a fight against you.

“I think if we asked Robin about it, she would tell us that threatening bodily harm to possible future partners falls into the more concerning areas of codependency,” Steve says from the doorway. “But to be honest, I really don’t care; I think it’s sweet of us, actually.”

Eddie laughs, the sound a little wet. He skims the list again, then a third and a fourth time, before carefully setting it back into the notebook, and the notebook aside.

“Come here?” he asks, watching as Steve walks over to where Eddie is still sitting on the sofa, his heart like a war drum inside his chest.

He pulls Steve down to him as soon as he can reach him, and pours all the things he wants to say but doesn’t have the words for into the following kiss.

“For what it’s worth,” he says when they break apart, just far enough to lean their foreheads together, “I think it’s very sweet, too. Very poetic of us, even.”

Steve laughs, the low sound wrapping around Eddie’s bones. “Right? There's a very simple way to avoid that, after all.”

Eddie smiles, presses the curve of it against Steve’s jaw, and breathes him in. “Is there, now?”

“I simply have to make sure you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

If anyone were to ask Eddie, that is an absolutely perfect solution; he bites his agreement into Steve’s soft mouth, makes a vow out of it, and marvels at the way Steve answers as if he understands it, too.

He’s simply not going to let go; after all, Eddie is exceptionally good at holding on.

#st #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #mona's writing

[forever-rogue]

I love Halloween a those prompts are so good!

“I’m not easily scared, but right now I’m terrified.” + “do you want to go to the corn maze?” With bf Steve 🥰💕 maybe the kids see you going to the maze and decide to scare you both.

AN | But just how wonderful and fun would fall be with Stevie? 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stood in front of the house and admired your handiwork - you’d decorated the front porch with everything fall and spooky. It was the first year that you and Steve were spending in your new house - the place you’d decided to call home after getting married. Naturally, that meant that you were going to go all out. Steve had been at work all day but would be home soon - you wondered if he’d like your handiwork.

“Wow,” you’d been so wrapped up in your own little world as you’d decorated and hadn’t even heard Steve come home. You turned around to find your husband standing behind you, hands on his hips as he looked everything over. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “that’s a lot of pumpkins. How many pumpkins did you get?”

“Mind your business and don’t worry about it,” you were giggling as he took your face in his hands and pressed kisses to your cheeks before softly pressing his lips to yours. It was ridiculous just how giddy and excited he still made you feel, even after all this time together, “hi.”

“Hi angel,” he dropped his hands to your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze, “it looks wonderful.”

“You really like it, Stevie?” you took his hand and started to pull over to the door to show him all the small little details and decorations. You watched his smile grow and light up his entire face as he looked over everything, “I think I went a little overboard but once I started I just didn’t stop. So here we are!”

“It’s not overboard at all. It’s perfect,” he promised and you relaxed into him, “and it’s the first day of fall - it’s all perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you did. You really, really loved him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Every year, the lot of you had the tradition of going to the local fall and Halloween fair. There was everything and anything fall related that you could have ever imagined. 

It was a fun way to spend the day with your friends and get all those pumpkin treats you liked. You swore that one day everyone would catch onto them. Regardless you still have fun playing the games, going on a hayride, picking apples and pumpkins and getting to let all the animals.

This year one big thing remained yet to be done - 

“Do you want to go to the corn maze?" You squeezed Steve's hand and tilted your head towards the entrance of the maze. You saw the kids standing in line, eager and excited to go in. 

"I feel we have to, right? Like it's tradition," he nodded as you made a small sound of excitement. You were tugging on his hand in the direction of the long line, motioning for Nancy and Robin to follow along and to bring Eddie and Chrissy with them. 

"It's definitely tradition," you agreed softly, "along with getting caramel corn and cotton candy before we leave!"

"Yes," he laughed softly, leaning his head on top of yours, "you just love the fall fair, don't you?"

"I love fall most of all," you agreed, before pausing for a moment, "but not as much as you, of course."

"Well that's reassuring to hear," not that he ever had to doubt that. He knew just how very much you loved him, "we'll get whatever you want before we leave."

"Can't forget some pumpkins," you were eyeing the big pumpkin patch where others were already hunting for their favorite pumpkins. Meanwhile Steve was staring at you with a confused expression, "what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"More pumpkins?" He asked incredulously, "more?"

"Duh," you grinned, "we need ones to carve! They'll go right along with the others. Please Stevie?"

"I…of course," he shook his head with nothing but affection. As if he would ever say no to you for anything, "we'll carve the best pumpkins ever."

"Yay!" You bounced on your heels, "best friend and husband ever!"

"Mhmm," he stood behind you as you moved forward along with the line, "I better be since I'm doing this maze with you!"

"It'll be fun! It always is," you snorted in amusement, "we always get through it."

"Let's hope the tradition continues!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you made it to the front of the line to go into the maze, it was already getting dark. Darker than you’d have liked it. You weren’t about to admit to Steve that the darkness made your nerves spike up; instead you gingerly took the flashlights that were proffered to you. You handed one to Steve and stepped inside of the expansive rows of corn.

“Let’s make this a little more interesting,” Eddie piped up and looked between your small group, “let’s split up and see who can get to the end first. There’s lots of different paths but they all lead to the end.”

“You dinguses are so on," Robin exchanged an excited look with Nancy who eagerly nodded. The two of them were like peas in a pod, "let's do it."

"Hell yeah," Eddie high-fived Robin before he turned his attention to you and Steve, "what about the two of you, huh lovebirds?"

"Yeah," you sounded unsure but looked to Steve for confirmation only to be met with just as unsure of a look, "totally. Let's do it."

"Alright gang," Eddie illuminated one of the paths with his flashlight, "Robin and Nance can go this way. We'll go this way and the two of you go down that path. See you all at the end!"

Before you could say anything else the others had already started to run off. You swallowed thickly before turning your attention back to Steve. You stood closer to him as if that was somehow going to make everything better, "so, ugh, I'm not easily scared as you know, but right now I'm terrified. What if we get lost here forever Stevie?"

"I promise that won't happen," he looped his arm through yours as he started to lead you toward the path you had been assigned, "as long as we figure out a way to mark where we've been it'll be fine. We can break a stalk or something. That way we'll know where we've been."

 "Okay. Its just that we've never been in here this late before and its so dark," you felt unsure suddenly, "promise-"

"I swear it," he whispered, "we'll be out of here in no time. And then we'll get all the sweets and pumpkins."

"I'm holding you to it!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"It feels like we've been doing this forever," you cracked another stalk and looked at Steve with a huge pout on your face. He was tempted to kiss it away, but decided against it at that moment. He'd make up for it later and give you all the kisses. 

"It's only been about an hour," he reassured you softly. It had been a long hour nonetheless and meant bent stalks of corn and much backtracking. It was reassuring however that there were still lots of other people around you. In a way it was almost kind of eerie hearing all the different sounds around you but not seeing the people, "I'm sure we've gotta be close to the end."

"You're right," you agreed, smiling when Steve reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, "I'm sure it'll - ahh!"

You and Eddie screamed at each other as you clutched at your now wildly beating heart. You'd just turned a corner just as he had; only he was also missing Chrissy.

"I…what happened?" Steve looked between the two of you before trying to figure out where Chrissy was, "where's your girl?"

"I…don't know," he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "we were just walking around and the next thing I knew was that Chrissy was gone."

"I'm sure we'll catch up to her at the exit," someone had to be the voice of reason and apparently that was going to be you. You gulped as you heard a shriek from somewhere else in the maze, "let's just get going so we can escape."

"Good idea," the two friends agreed in union as you looped your free arm through Eddie's. You hoped that with the two of them at your side things wouldn't be as bad. 

But…you were still in the middle of a corn maze in the dark, cold night with nothing to help but measly flashlights.

You were definitely getting as many pumpkins as you wanted after this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I've never been happier!" Eddie threw up his arms as he ran through the exit of the maze. You spied Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy all standing at the side as they chatted away. Chrissy's face lit up at sight of her boyfriend and he almost knocked her over in his excitement, "I've never been happier to see land!"

"You've been on land," Chrissy was laughing however as you shook your head in amusement, "I can't believe you got lost!"

"At least you made it out," Robin crossed her arms over her chest as she looked around at your small group, "great job all, but Nance and I are the clear winners."

"I want a rematch!" Steve playfully glowered at her before he realized what he'd said, "next year."

"That's what I thought," and she was so smug that it caused you to laugh, "great job team!"

"C'mon Stevie," you leaned up and kissed him softly, "let's go and get those pumpkins and treats before they close. It's always getting late anyway."

"Okay," he half puffed but relaxed as you started to pull him towards the illuminated pumpkin patch, "hey - my promise came true! We made it out alive!"

"My hero," you beamed at him, "I love you so much, Stevie."

"I love you too, angel," he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "you and all your pumpkins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I had a lot of fun today," you climbed into your side of the bed, lying down and immediately reaching for Steve. He'd beaten you to bed and was currently reading his book. He bookmarked his page before setting the book down and pulling you onto top of him. You grinned at him before gently pulling off his thin, silver wire framed reading glasses and putting them on the nightstand, "you're so handsome."

"You just love me for my looks, huh?" He was teasing and you scoffed at him.

"I love you for everything," you promised sweetly, "the fact that you're ridiculously handsome doesn't hurt either. Did you have fun today?"

"I did," his large, warm hands settled on your waist as you relaxed into him, "I had lots of fun too."

"And you like the pumpkins?" You might have gone a little extra…but another five pumpkins seemed necessary. 

"I know them," he insisted, "we've got the best looking house in the neighborhood easily."

"That's what I was going for," you pressed your forehead to his and sighed wistfully, "thanks for always putting up with me."

"I've never putting up with you," he peppered your face in soft kisses, causing you to giggle softly, "I adore you."

"I adore you, Steve Harrington," you whispered, "so much."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #st #joe keery

[pedgito]

Ok but what about love sick Eddie? Like is head over heels and is always itching to have a hand on the reader but is also conscious of the way Steve/Dustin/RobinTHE OTHERS BASICAALY see him

author’s note: i can picture this so perfectly, i really hope this prompt suffices your request!

cw: sfw, just lots of fluff and reassurance toward eddie, also touchstarved!eddie, he really has five love language & they’re all physical touch.

word count: 1.5k

Eddie never strayed too far from your side, always a step behind or huddled around you. He was the normalcy in your life, as of late, and had wedged himself there in every way possible. Home, his home, school, hangouts with your friends, he was always there, right on you.

You weren’t used to it initially, but you quickly realized that all Eddie needed was you. He didn’t care how he had you or when, but that you were there—you were a physical person he could touch. He could hold you when you were sad, or happy, or just begging for his arms around you. It didn’t matter, Eddie had no qualms about loving you. But still, he couldn’t shake the idea of everyone watching his every move—they weren’t, trust me. But, Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to believe that. He’d been judged and ridiculed all his life.

Dustin always joked about how unhealthy it seemed, but never really meant any harm. You knew he was joking, Eddie knew too—but it still made him pull his hand away from where it was wrapped around your arm, forcefully shoved into his jacket pocket.

Robin thought it was adorable, but it made her sad, seeing how in love Eddie was with you, and you for him. She couldn’t have it, as badly as she wanted it. Eddie toned it down out of courtesy, not wanting to shove it in her face.

Nancy didn’t have much room to judge, not that she would, since she was always wrapped around Johnathan in one way or another. They had a strong bond—through hell and back, it was unbelievable how much trauma one person could handle. She always squealed at how you described Eddie to her, finding it sweet how someone could love a person so intensely.

And Steve—oh, Steve. He always brought girls around, but it never stuck. He likes to say that he was just surfing through the bin and seeing which one he could land on that would stick, not that women were just cheap pickings from the bargain bin—Steve was very adamant about that after getting a mouthful from you about mistreating women. His luck was sour, unfortunately. Steve didn’t want to admit how bitter he was about being surrounded by love. Still, he was always in Eddie’s corner.

You were just as touch starved and drunk on Eddie; it wasn’t something that happened out of nowhere, it took time. You’d never felt love like this, with anyone. It started with holding your hand at home, curled up on his couch—occasionally switching to drag his fingers along the expanse of your arm, afraid you might disappear through his fingers. Or a hand on your knee while he drove and if he was feeling risqué enough, he’d rest his hand against the inside of your thigh, fingers a gentle pressure on the sensitive skin. It drove you wild, Eddie knew that much.

You liked to cradle his face, as often as he’d let you. Just hold him, stare at him, until he was blushing and looking away because he couldn’t stand it any longer. Eddie would never openly admit it, but he enjoyed it. You would rub your thumbs along the apples of his cheek, along the lines of his jaw, having to remind yourself that yes—he was real. In the more intimate moments, you’d cradle his head, let him bury his face in the crevice of your neck and run your fingers along the slope of his back. Those touches were wired, electrically charged—you’ve never met someone with more eager and exploring hands than Eddie.

Touch was love to both of you, that was something you both knew well. You didn’t need gifts or acts or words, you just needed touch. Eddie was touchy with everyone, in his own way, but had a special kind just for you.

He liked to grab Steve’s shoulders and shake him, just because it fucked with him so much. He’d always pat Robin on the shoulder, wrapping his arm around her in a hug anytime he saw her. Dustin hugged him everyday, which was more endearing than it should be, but you knew that Eddie was the older brother he never had.

He tried to tone it down around the others, he really tried. Though for you—you never tried.

“Hey,” His voice is soft, lips pecking the tip of your reddened ears, cold from the unforgiving Indiana winter, “Still cold?”

Eddie was always prepared for everything, an extra one of his jackets slung over his arm. You nod, arms tightening around yourself, hands slipping under the sleeve of your jacket to create friction, desperate to tell some type of warmth in your body.

“Where the hell is Wheeler?” Eddie pipes up, hanging the coat of your shoulders, lifting the hood until it covers your ears. “She’s got us freezing our balls off out here.”

“Speak for yourself.” You snort, huddling closer to him. Eddie doesn’t pull back, arm wrapping over your shoulder.

These touches were simple, nuanced. They were literally second nature now.

“Hey, sorry!” Nancy apologizes, out of breath as she yanks the door open, buttoning you both inside. “The rest of us are downstairs. I’m just grabbing snacks.”

Movie nights had also become a regular thing, oddly enough.

Eddie tumbled down the stairs in his usual roundabout manner, determined to make an entrance. He spots Dustin immediately, slapping the wall as he rounded the corner.

“Henderson!” He shot a finger gun at him, which Dustin returned with eager enthusiasm, pulling him into a brief hug. Eddie makes his rounds, a welcoming pat or nudge to each of them. They all welcomed him openly, as they always did.

“What’s on the menu tonight?” You ask, shedding your layers. Warmth, heat—finally. You settled onto the unoccupied couch in the corner of the room, motioning for Eddie to take a seat beside you. He flops down lazily, settling into the cushion.

“Fast times.” Nancy says begrudgingly, shoving the tape into the player.

“Again?” You ask, followed by a unanimous groan from the group—everyone except Robin.

“Hey—I’ve sat through a million rewatches of The Goonies, you all can suck it.” Robin provides emphasis by using both of her hands to flip everyone off collectively.

“It was her turn.” Eddie supplies, nodding his head in her direction. “We must obey the ladies orders.”

Despite how often everyone complained, you all enjoyed whatever was on the screen—it wasn’t really about that anyways.

You shove yourself in the corner, knees pulled to your chest as you watch the movie, too enraptured to realize Eddie’s hand playing with the edge of your sock, clearly begging for a touch.

You smile, shifting your leg a couple inches forward, letting Eddie’s hand wrap around the length of your ankle.

There wasn’t anything to it, Eddie almost always did it out of habit. But, he pulled away like a startled cat anytime someone moved in your direction, afraid someone would have some stupid remark—though, you knew they never would. Eddie had it all in his head.

“Johnathan and I are gonna refill the popcorn,” Nancy calls over her shoulder, bowl clasped in her arm, “don’t worry about pausing it.”

“I really hope they wash their hands.” You grimace, watching them ascend the stairs. Popcorn with a side of whatever the hell they were getting up to within those five minutes.

“Gross.” Robin half gags through a short chuckle, biting at the tip of her fingernail while Steve ranted about another one of his recent dates.

Eddie’s fingers are flexing and unflexing, you can see it in your peripherals. He wants to touch you, he really does—but he’s trying to force himself not to. “Hey,” You whisper in his direction, nodding your head to motion him closer, “come here.”

If he wasn’t going to do it, you were.

He shifts from where he’s reclined against the other arm of the couch, moving until he’s settled between your legs, nearly reclined if it wasn’t for his back resting against the front of your chest. Steve connects with your eyes for a split second, offering a soft smile—despite his bitterness, he was happy that you and Eddie had each other.

“I don’t want to make everyone else uncomfortable.” Eddie argues, though he showed no complaints adjusting in your lap, your own arms draping over his chest.

“Nancy and Johnathan are probably doing the unspeakable upstairs, I think the rest of them can handle a little cuddling.”

“We literally don’t care, Eddie.” Dustin finally speaks, feet propped up on the coffee table, reclined in full relaxation mode. He truly didn’t have a care in the world. Eddie’s touchiness wasn’t even a blip on his radar.

“See?” You tell him, grabbing his chin to pull his face toward you, effectively smooching him on the lips, upside down, in front of your friends. “Stop worrying.”

Eddie smiles, leaning into the crook of your arm, rough ringed fingers wrapping with your own. “Sorry.” He whispers into your palm, kissing the skin there.

“I like your touches,” Voice hushed low enough that only Eddie could hear, “don’t ever feel ashamed about it.”

Eddie’s never felt love like this and admittedly, neither have you.

Eddie gently coaxes your hands to his face, fingers finding their way into his hair, combing through the long, dark strands of curls. He felt at home with you, even if he never said it out loud.

And no one dares to say anything when he falls asleep halfway through the movie—they don’t know about the restless nights where he can’t sleep, curled up in your arms. They don’t know how he always falls asleep holding your hand, leg, shoulder—anywhere on your body, just to remind himself that you were still there. But, that wasn’t for them. It was moments shared in vulnerability.

Eddie could love you as hard and as much as he wanted too, without judgement. But he had to know, you would love back just as intensely.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #god when is it my turn #1kfic

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 ao3

The telltale catch in Steve’s breathing evens out far too quickly for it to be natural. Eddie can feel how he repeatedly holds his breath for a few brutal seconds at a time, trying to force his crying to a stop. It’s done so thoroughly, so efficiently, that Eddie is left with the unavoidable conclusion that it’s a practised skill; that at some point, Steve must have taught himself to cry silently—and to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.

Steve lifts his head up slowly from Eddie’s shoulder. He keeps his eyes low, looking down at the bed, and as he moves, he dislodges Eddie’s hold on him.

Eddie takes the hint and draws back. He’d been stroking one hand through Steve’s hair in a soothing rhythm, but it seemed so natural—done instinctively, almost unconsciously—that it’s only from stopping that he even realises he was doing it in the first place.

“Uh, sorry.”

Steve shakes his head, looks up to meet Eddie’s gaze with a weak but genuine smile.

“No, it’s… just don’t want to fall asleep,” he says. Then he seems to catch himself and amends, “Like, you can, obviously. Don’t let me—”

“Nah, it’s cool.”

Eddie takes his lead from Steve’s tone: that studiously casual air, back to normal, nothing to see here, just drop it.

He can hear the sound of nurses talking in the corridor, fading away as they walk past the door to Steve’s room. With the bedside lamp on, it feels suddenly like when he’d get up early for school in the optimistic first few weeks after summer: the world just on the cusp of waking up, still blurry around the edges.

Eddie squints in the dim light to read the clock on the wall. “Hey, you want food? Kitchens should open for breakfast soon.” Then, before Steve can reply, the thought hits him, and he rambles on, “Shit, I didn’t even—like, have they, um, cleared you for…?”

Steve laughs shakily, brushing away the remaining evidence of tears on his face. Eddie catches him giving a little self-directed wince as he does so, like he’s embarrassed himself, and the thought is quietly devastating.

“Yeah, I can eat. Got a whole bowl of mac and cheese after you left, actually.” Steve shrugs. “Doctors came in with all these charts and when they took the mask off, all I could think to say was ‘I’m starving.’”

Eddie snorts, remembering when he’d walkied Nancy for a food delivery. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Right? Glad someone does, they just stared at me like I was nuts. Still.” Another shrug. “I’m not exactly their first rodeo. Think I recognised some of them from way back, with Will. Guess they figured if I was eating it meant their drug cocktail was working.”

And Eddie knows that this version of events is no doubt highly sanitised—yet even with Steve’s nonchalant delivery, he gets the impression that whatever the doctors greeted him with had been less reassuring and more, you’re out the fucking twilight zone, kid, just be grateful and don’t ask too many questions.

“So, how was it? Give your compliments to the chef?”

“Oh, I, um.” Steve’s nose wrinkles, and he gives an endearing, slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t like mac and cheese, it was just leftover from… I wasn’t really in the position to be picky, you know?”

There’s a sudden, fierce swell of protectiveness in Eddie’s chest. “Well, fuck that. What do you want to eat now? Like, think world’s your oyster kinda shit.”

“Hmm, you might be overselling the options here. Honestly?” Steve pauses, heaves a sigh and says, heartfelt, “Toast.”

Eddie had been resolved to find it, no matter what had been said; hell, Steve could’ve said ‘caviar’ and Eddie’s pretty sure he wouldn’t even have batted an eye.

But as it is, the simplicity of Steve’s answer is unexpectedly moving—that, after everything, this is all he wants. Eddie’s already decided that this’ll be the best goddamn piece of toast in the history of the universe.

“Okay, but like, I need a guide, man. What’s your preference? Cremation levels of burnt or warm bread?”

Steve stares. “What?” His mouth is twitching, pulling up into a smile despite his still red-rimmed eyes.

Eddie sees his chance, and he plays up to it, quipping back, “You gotta give me something to work with.”

Steve laughs. Though it’s still on the quiet side, Eddie can tell it’s a good one, right from the belly. “Sorry, didn’t realise I needed a damn paint chart. Light brown enough for you?”

Eddie nods, carefully rises from the bed so as not to jostle Steve. “Your wish is my command.”

He brings back a plate of toast with entirely too many packets of butter, and Steve looks at him like he hung the moon; when he takes a bite, he says, “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Eddie scoffs. “Think you need to raise your expectations.”

“No, I’m serious.” Steve makes a show of tilting the plate this way and that, like it’s on display at an art gallery. “You got the butter right to the corners; that takes skill, dude.”

“If you say so,” Eddie says, and he smiles behind his own cup of coffee.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation for a few minutes, before Steve says, “You brought your guitar.”

“Yeah, I didn’t, um, really mean to? Just kinda jumped into my hands when I walked out the door.” Now back on the couch, Eddie makes an automatic movement for the guitar, where it stands propped up against the wall. Then he stops himself. “Bet you’re sick of my playing at this point, huh?”

His voice is still light, the perfect set-up for Steve to tease him back, but that doesn’t happen at all. Steve just blinks a few times, like he’s heard something confusing, then says, “No,” so simply that it threatens to put a lump in Eddie’s throat.

So he picks up the guitar. And because it’s second nature by now, feels as natural as breathing, Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s started to play Steve’s song, until he hears Steve give a sharp intake of breath.

“Shit.” Eddie nearly drops the guitar in mortification. “Steve, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t—”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s—”

“Eddie,” Steve says firmly, “it’s fine. Please play it?”

And Eddie could never deny him. He doesn’t sing, though, has some kind of instinct that he shouldn’t—because Steve’s eyes start looking far-off about ten seconds in.

Where are you going? Can I help? Can I go with you?

His decision to not sing is soon proven to be the right one—otherwise he might have missed Steve saying, soft as sand, “How long did…?”

Eddie waits. He loses his place for a moment, skips to the chorus. “How long did what?”

But Steve is already shaking his head. “Never mind.”

And he quickly pulls himself away from wherever he’d gone, something dark and melancholy leaving his eyes in a matter of seconds—like it, too, has been forcibly pushed back. He’s not ready, Eddie thinks.

It’s okay. I’ll still be here when you are.

#ao3 is down atm so here’s this part first & there’ll potentially be another update this weekend ❤️ #steddie fic #steddie #the self sacrificial steve agenda #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[xiaq]

Steddie Time Travel Fix-it: Pt.9

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8

It’s 2am and Eddie is sitting alone on the front steps, knife still in one hand, when Hopper’s truck turns into the cul-de-sac. Steve is leaning out the window, grinning. He’s got one hand pressed to the side of the cab, his hair a riot in the wind, and it feels like Eddie can catch a full breath for the first time in hours.

The truck has hardly stopped and Eddie has hardly managed to push himself to his feet before Steve is shoving open the passenger door and stumbling across the lawn to––‘hug’ seems like a woefully ineffective way to describe the way that Steve slams into him. The way that he pulls them together, desperate and aching, like he wants to merge them into a singular entity. It’s a collision of a gesture. Chest to chest. Steve’s arms are tight and undeniable and a little bit violent around him. His hands are fisted in the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. His face is in Eddie’s neck.

“You’re ok,” he says, and Eddie is reminded of that first, baffling, meeting in the bathroom, when Steve couldn’t seem to stop himself from touching, from reassuring himself that Eddie was real and whole.

“I’m good, man, but I’m really fucking confused.” He tries to pull away. Steve doesn’t let him. Eddie isn’t going to fight him about it. “Are you ok?” he asks, mostly into Steve’s hair.

“I’m fine. We won. And we’re alive. And we’re all—everything is going to be fine, now.”

“That is great news, but I still need an explanation and, whoa, hey.”

There’s a wetness smearing on his chin and Eddie realizes that despite Steve’s claims of being fine, he’s definitely reopened the line of stitches on his temple and one of his arms is seriously jacked up.

“You’re getting blood on me,” Eddie points out.

Steve lets go.

“Sorry,” he says, reaching up to try and wipe it away. His fingers are just as gory as his face, though, maybe even worse, and he looks a little panicked at whatever he’s done to Eddie’s jaw. “Sorry,” he repeats. “Oh jeez—here, let me––”

“Steve,” Hopper says, slamming the driver’s side door of the truck. “Can you have your touching reunion inside?”

There’s a kid Eddie hadn’t noticed before with a shaved head, blood all down her lips beneath her nose, getting out of the back seat. A bearded man and Joyce Beyers follow her, and there’s another car pulling up to park behind Hopper’s truck. Nancy is in the driver’s seat, and Robin and Jonathan and a couple other people he doesn’t recognize are piling out, bloodied and weary-looking, but all smiling. When a third and fourth car, both black, government-y vehicles arrive, Eddie looks to Steve who still has one disgusting hand wrapped around Eddie’s wrist, like he’s afraid to let go of him.

“Inside,” he says.

Eddie agrees that’s probably best.

Steve is met in the foyer like a conquering hero. The kids fling themselves at him with hugs and questions and shouts of dismay over the state of his bloodied face and his mangled arm, which under the entryway lights looks far worse than it did in the yard––like something had been chewing on it. Something big. Steve and the others spend a solid five minutes just repeating that they won, it’s over, they won, it’s over, while Eddie and Barb and Chrissy stand on the fringes and share confused looks.

When it becomes clear that no one else is in any hurry to take care of Steve’s injuries, Eddie grabs him by the arm that doesn’t look like it’s been stuck down a garbage disposal and drags him down the hall to the bathroom. He knows where the first aid kit is, now.

“Sit,” he tells him, nodding to the toilet.

Steve sits.

And then he’s looking up at Eddie, all wide-eyed and appreciative like some kind of triumphant but humble gladiator awaiting his reward for a battle well-fought. Eddie wants to punch a wall or something because he should not be endeared by this. He should not.

And yet.

“Take off your shirt,” Eddie says brusquely. “Or do you need help?”

“My ribs are still pretty fucked up from before,” Steve murmurs, “so I won’t lie, lifting my arms above my head isn’t great.”

Eddie benevolently does not point out that haring off to fight interdimensional creatures, or whatever the hell Steve was doing, probably hasn’t helped with the broken ribs situation.

“So, help?” Eddie says.

“Yeah, please.”

And he should have seen that coming. He offered, after all, but Eddie is stymied for a moment before he moves forward, leaning over Steve’s back to get to the hem of his shirt so he can pull it forward over his head and off without making him lift his arms. 

It forces them close again. Eddie can smell him: sweat and blood and whatever nameless viscera is smeared on his clothes. It’s disgusting.

And yet.

“New plan,” Eddie says, tossing the shirt onto the floor and then kicking it further away for good measure. “Shower first, and then we’ll patch you up without worrying about secondary infections.”

“I don’t have any other clothes,” Steve says.

“Well, I’ve got a bag full of clothes in the car and you’re not that much bigger than me. Also, at some point you’re going to start explaining things. Feel free to start now.”

“Well,” Steve glances at the closed bathroom door. “The others are probably filling in Barb and Chrissy right now, if you want to join them.”

Eddie drops to his knees to unlace Steve’s boots. “No,” he says, slapping at Steve���s hands when he tries to do it himself, wincing. “I don’t want the others to tell me, I want you to tell me. I want you to explain why your personality has done a 180 and you’re suddenly best friends with Buckley and Nancy,” he cups one hand around the back of Steve’s knee so he can pull off his boot with the other, “and why you’re basically parenting a dozen middle-schoolers and why you’re afraid of DnD monsters and have a trunk full of weapons and lose your mind when lights flicker and why there’s some sort of portal in my living room ceiling and why you keep looking at me.”

“I—I don’t look at you,” Steve says, fucking looking at him. “How do I look at you?”

“Like that,” Eddie shouts, gesturing at Steve’s face with his own dirty sock. “Jesus.”

He pulls off the second boot, the second sock, even dirtier than the first, and tosses them aside. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve exhales. “I don’t mean to. And I don’t know where to start. I’m not—none of any of this sounds believable.”

“Well, I was thinking time travel at first but now I’m leaning toward alternate dimensions, so I feel like I’m good with whatever you want to throw at me, here.”

“Alright,” Steve says. He leans forward, gritting his teeth around a grimace, to brace his elbows on his knees. “Honestly, it’s a little of column A, and a lot of column B.”

“Fuck. Okay. Give me the like, two minute version.”

“So there’s an…alternate dimension of Hawkins,” Steve starts. “Like, it’s still Hawkins, just. Wrong. We’ve been calling it the Upside-Down. And there are places where the dividing line between between our reality and the Upside-Down is weak. And those places can turn into gates where people or things can move back and forth between the two. There was one in your ceiling.”

“And Lover’s Lake,” Eddie says. “There was one there? And your…pool?”

“Yeah.”

“Following you so far. You said ‘things’ can move back and forth. What uh, dare I ask what populates this Upside Down version of Hawkins?”

“Monsters, mostly,” Steve says.

“Figured.”

 “The kids named the monsters we’ve been fighting after D&D characters. Which is why I get weird about shit like demogorgons and mind flayers and stuff.”

“Okay, alright, so much is making sense right now. So there aren’t any people there?”

“Not really. There was one guy, an evil guy, I guess. Vecna. Who was responsible for the Upside Down going bad. He lived there. Sort of.”

Steve ducks his head and scrubs a hand through his hair with his still-operational arm. “I feel like I’m not doing a good job explaining this, you should really let one of the others––“

“You’re doing great,” Eddie interrupts. “We’ve got an alternate reality tenuously separated from real life, inhabited by an evil villain and his monsters. What else?”

“El, the girl with the shaved head? She came from a lab—the Hawkins lab––where they were doing experiments on kids. Giving them superpowers. And also finding out how to make gates to the Upside Down. The bad guy in the Upside Down was also one of the kids from the lab, a long time ago. They can both open and close gates.”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly. “So El is the heroine and he’s her villainous foil in the story.”

“It’s not a story,”

“No, I know, I’m just, this is how I’m contextualizing, sorry. How did all the kids get involved?”

“By accident, mostly. Will––the nice one with the bowl cut and enormous eyes?––he ended up trapped there for a while. There was a gate in his shed. But he made it back, obviously.”

Eddie tries to place him but struggles. There are a lot of kids running around.

“The others are all friends with him,” Steve continues. “And also they found El in the woods when she escaped from the lab. They’re all pretty great, honestly. Even if they’re annoying as hell.”

“Where does the time travel bit come in?”

Steve’s attention drops immediately to his hands. His nail-beds are black. It’s going to take forever to get him clean and apparently Eddie has signed himself up for that task. He should probably be dreading it.

And yet.

“In our timeline,” Steve says, “it’s 1987. Or it was when we left. Things went really bad with Vecna and people died. A lot of people. Hawkins was pretty much destroyed. And we didn’t think we’d be able to stop him at all, his reach was just going to expand and get worse and worse until one of the people from the lab came to talk to El. Told her she could basically open up a portal in the Upside Down and go back in time. And prevent all the shit that happened from ever happening. So she did and we all went through with her. Except the first couple times we tried we only went back a few months and it wasn’t enough. Vecna still won every time no matter what we changed or how we tried to fix things. So this time we went back years instead. To stop him at the beginning. When he was unprepared.”

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Why don’t I remember this then? You all act like you know me, so I must have been involved in this shit at least a little, right?”

“Right,” Steve says. “No, you were. But it was only the people there in 1987 who went through the portal that remember.”

“Only the people there. What does that even mean? Where did I go?”

He might be a little bit of a coward, but there’s no way he would have abandoned a bunch of kids and Steve Harrington to fight monsters alone. He doesn’t think.

Steve’s attention is so forcefully on his hands, fingers now curled tight and painful-looking around his knees, that Eddie reaches up to stop him before he hurts himself.

Oh, he realizes, thumbs tucked between Steve's palms and his knees.

Oh, no.

“I fucking died, didn’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says.

Well. That’s…sobering.

“So,” Eddie says, rocking back onto his heels, feeling winded. “Time travel. Parallel worlds. Bad dude. Monsters. Kids with superpowers. My untimely demise.”

“That’s about the shape of it.”

“And this Vecna guy. You said—when you first got back tonight you said it was over. Is it, though? Like, over over.”

“I think so. We won this time. And El thinks he’s gone for good and she’s closed all the gates but one. We’ll do a couple of patrols over the next few months to make sure, before we close the final gate permanently. But we’re pretty sure it’s over. Finally.”

Steve’s eyes are dark and wet and huge in his dirty face when he finally meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Well,” Eddie says. His hands are still wrapped around Steve’s. “I guess I should thank you for saving my life, then.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, then winces. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Sounds like it was a little bit of a problem. Just a smidge.”

“Worth it,” Steve says. 

He shouldn’t be attractive like this–smeared in dirt and grime and his own blood. Leaning a little to one side to take pressure off broken ribs.

And yet.

Eddie clears his throat. “You really need to take a shower so we can patch you up.”

Steve is still looking at him. 

The same way he’s been looking at him.

Eddie is starting to understand the depth behind it. He’s starting to have questions about the depth of it. Questions that are probably more wishfull thinking than anything else but also––

“I’ll need help,” Steve says evenly. “With showering. Because of my arm.”

“Right,” Eddie says. “Well, I’m…here.”

“You’re here,” Steve agrees.

It sounds like he means something else. Something more.

Eddie swallows.

He lets go of Steve’s hands.

He slides back the shower curtain and turns on the faucet.

Pt. 10

#steddie #steddie fic #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #myfic #fixit fic #stranger things fic