#Steve joins hellfire au

[withacapitalp]

(Okay I saw a post about a premise similar to this but I cannot find it for the life of me. Anyway I loved it so much that I had to write a version of it myself. A post s2 AU!) Now with Part Two

Steve was never exactly the most perceptive person in the world. 

He missed all of the signals that Nancy had given him, every sign that had pointed to their failing relationship. He hadn’t seen the moments that proved she was right about everything going on in their town either. Steve overlooked important details in his college applications, and took shots in basketball that almost always missed. He even sometimes walked right into walls these days, because his spacial awareness had kinda been shot since Billy smashed a plate over his head fifteen days ago. 

A lot of that could be forgiven, but, this…

Well this was a little bit obtuse, even for him. 

“You know you’re sitting at our table, right, King Steve?” 

Steve looked up from his Tuna Surprise, resisting the urge to flinch at both the blinding light from the windows in the cafeteria and the nickname he hated so much. Eddie Munson stared back, carrying a lunch tray in one hand and his signature metal lunch box in the other. 

“Your humble court is awaiting you on the haves side of this blessed cookery. This side is where the dweebs and the nerds parlay. A single place we get a reprieve from the endless bombardment of the average” Munson continued, flinging his arms to and fro, gesturing to the group of teens behind him who were staring at Steve like he was dirt under the bottom of their shoes. 

He hadn’t understood the majority of what Eddie had just said to him, but those looks were enough to give Steve the gist. He was not welcome here. 

“Sorry,” He muttered, grabbing his tray and sliding it to the other end of the table. He took a deep breath the second he was alone again, letting the tension melt away from his body as he collapsed back in his seat. 

Even though he was no longer welcome to sit at his old table, Steve probably could have gone and eaten in the library with Nancy and Jonathan. They had awkwardly invited him to join them a few times since everything had gone down, but he always said no. 

It was better this way. Better to be alone. Better to not have to watch the two of them try and hide how much happier they were now that they could be together. They deserved that happiness, Nancy deserved that happiness, and Steve refused to be the one to make her try and stifle any of that. 

He had hurt her enough already. 

“What happened to your face?”

Once again Eddie dragged Steve out of his thoughts. He was standing over Steve’s head, nearly hovering on top of him, watching Steve like he was trying to work him out. Like Steve was a particularly complex puzzle that he could solve just with his eyes. 

Nancy had always looked at him that way. Steve had hated it when it was her, and he hated it even more coming from Munson now. 

“Got into a fight,” Steve grunted, stabbing at his shitty cafeteria food and hoping that his abrasiveness would be enough to get Munson to leave him alone.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he could say now that they had all signed another round of NDAs, but he was pretty sure even talking about this was toeing the line. It was safer all around to get Eddie to go away as quickly as possible. 

It wouldn’t be all that hard. Usually all it took were a few well placed bitchy comments to get people to see the picture and give up on him. The only group of people who hadn’t been perturbed by Steve’s spikiness was the kids. They had shown up at his house pretty much daily since the gate had closed, and had even taken to begging on him for rides to and from school. 

Dustin in particular seemed determined to stay latched onto him like a barnacle, but Steve found that he didn’t really mind their clinginess.

 It was nice to be needed, even if it was only a group of pre-teen smartasses. 

“With who?” Eddie asked, leaning his hip on the table next to Steve and crossing his arms over his chest, “Cause Billy Hargrove is telling everyone he can that he beat your ass for messing with his sister,”

“I would never do something like that,” Steve shot back instantly, feeling the fading bruises on his face twinge as his jaw clenched in fury. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth, unable to stop them, “Billy’s a racist jackass who tried to put his hands on one of my fucking kids,”

Shit. 

“There is…so many confusing parts of that sentence,” Eddie stated, blinking in shock.

“Whatever,” Steve murmured, biting his cheek to stop himself from saying anything more and hunching his shoulders up around his ears. They weren’t exactly his kids, per say, but Steve was invested in keeping them safe now. The idea of doing anything to hurt any of them was painful, and the thought of Billy spreading that kind of rumor made bile rise up in his throat. 

Fuck Billy. Fuck this. Fuck his life honestly. 

“Look, Munson, I’m really not in the mood right now,” Steve sighed, hating how weary he sounded. It would have been better to fight his way out of this. Steve was crappy at fighting though, and there wasn’t much spirit left in him. Not after two weeks of perpetual stress and tension. 

“Harrington-”

“I moved down, I’m not in your way, isn’t that good enough?” Steve bit out, halfway to just grabbing his tray and throwing it in the trash. He was barely eating anyway, might as well go to the gym to shoot some hoops instead of sitting here being interrogated by drug dealing  extraordinaire, Eddie goddamn Munson.

Couldn’t he just let Steve eat in peace? Everything else was already so goddamn difficult these days. Could Steve at least manage to eat a mediocre meal without the entire world demanding something from him? 

By the grace of whatever god was potentially out there, Eddie took the hint, pushing off of his resting place and stalking back over to his group of weirdos on the other side. Steve let his eyes slip shut and dragged in a heavy breath, utterly exhausted. 

He was contemplating skipping the rest of the day and going home to sleep when a blue plastic tray identical to the one in front of him bumped his right hand

“What are you doing?” Steve wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows and fixing Eddie with a confused look as he sat down right next to Steve and began to dig into his meal. 

“Eating lunch alone sucks?” Eddie offered, shoveling Tuna Surprise into his mouth and shuddering, pushing the rest of the disgusting concoction to the far side of his tray, “Plus I’m hoping that if I get in your good graces you’ll give me your pudding cup,”

Steve stared at him for a few more moments, waiting for whatever prank was about to be pulled. But Eddie didn’t budge, continuing to eat around his main dish with strange efficiency and ignoring Steve’s gaze. 

“Go nuts,” He finally said, offering the plastic container over to Eddie who grabbed it and gave Steve a big smile

“Mazel Tov, Eddie said, hoisting the pudding aloft and tearing into it, “So, you have children?”

“I- I babysit,” Steve stammered out, completely perplexed by the strange set of circumstances that was playing out in front of him. Eddie paused with his spoon midair in front of him. 

“You babysit,” He repeated, turning his head towards Steve. The younger teen nodded and Eddie hummed. He put his pudding down and licked his spoon clean. When he was done, he hefted it aloft, bringing it down on the back of his right hand with a smack that echoed all around the cafeteria. 

“Ouch!” Eddie yelped, flapping his hand around in the air to try and get rid of the sting. Steve looked frantically to and fro as the rest of the room stared at them, whispering behind their hands. 

“Why would you-” 

“Had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” Eddie explained, interrupting Steve’s furious whisper with a breathless little laugh, “Because I just heard the words ‘I babysit’ come out of King Steve’s mouth,”

“Would you cut it out with the King stuff?” Steve snapped, beginning to lose his appetite, “It’s been a while since I was King of anything, and it was a stupid fucking idea to begin with,” 

There was a beat of awkward silence as Eddie gave him another one of those soul searching looks. 

“What are you doing Thursday afternoon?” He finally asked when he found whatever he was looking to find. Steve startled, dropping his fork. 

What kind of question was that? 

Was Munson asking him on some sort of date?!

“I’m…benched from basketball ‘cause of my concussion. So nothing, I guess,” Steve said cautiously, carefully picking his words and trying to avoid the spike of hurt that shot along his chest as he said them. 

It wasn’t much, but basketball was one of the only things Steve really thought he was genuinely good at. Not having it was kind of pure torture. 

Almost as bad as not having Nancy in his life anymore. 

“In that case, come to Hellfire,” Eddie offered, glancing at the clock on the wall and grabbing both of their trays. Steve scrambled to grab his backpack, hefting it onto one shoulder and jogging to keep up with Eddie. 

“What?”

“Hellfire?” Eddie repeated, dumping their trash into the bin and stacking the trays next to it, “It’s the club I run,”

“What is it?” Steve asked, curious but unwilling to commit just yet. There was still a part of him that was kind of convinced all of this was some elaborate ruse to fuck with him. 

But before Eddie could say anything the bell chimed all around them. The rest of the student population moved as one, and the sound in the lunchroom immediately went from dull roar to cacophonous mess. Steve’s left ear started to ring again, and he winced, shying away from the sudden noise. 

“You’ll have to come and see,” Eddie said, waggling his eyebrows, completely ignorant to Steve’s pain. He turned on his heel, raising a hand in a wave behind him as he loped towards the rest of his friend group.

“Thursday after school! In the drama room, don’t be late!”

#Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #Steddie au #Steve joins hellfire au #post s2 #st #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #Nancy wheeler #post stancy breakup #Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

[kennahjune]

No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”

But Eddie fucking hates it.

And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.

Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.

Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.

Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.

Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.

And Eddie just downright refuses.

And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.

Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.

Eddie sits in brooding silence.

And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.

Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).

But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.

Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.

But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.

Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).

Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?

They listen.

Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.

And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.

But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.

And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.

Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.

Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.

Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.

.

I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #el hopper #gareth emerson #jeff from hellfire #the dude I named brian #hellfire club #corroded coffin #minor steve x cc #you can’t escape the harrington charm #jeff and steve play volleyball together #probably gareth x jeff #but hella steddie #steddie #eventual steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Sweet indulgence 🛼

Written for the Valentine's Day pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog.

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in roller skates; First date (Eddie says it counts 💖)

Notes: continued from this one.

"You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve says. 

“Why not?” Eddie throws the garishly pink flier back down on the table. “It’s still Valentine’s Day.” 

“For thirteen more minutes,” Steve bristles, pen pressing down on his little notepad so hard that Eddie is afraid he’ll punch a hole through it. “You don’t even have a date.” 

“Didn’t know that was required,” Eddie grins. “All I’m saying is, if you offer a Valentine’s Day special, then that special should be available for the entirety of Valentine’s Day, so …” 

Steve makes an exasperated sound, but still jots down the order. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he barks over his shoulder as he pushes away from the table and disappears into the kitchen. “Just so you know.” 

Eddie watches him glide away, legs and ass a meal in their own right in those shorts and knee-highs and the fucking roller skates. 

Maybe the boy has a point. Maybe he is being ridiculous. 

It’s not exactly normal behavior, discovering that your former high school king is now a waiter at the diner down the street, and then promptly declaring said diner your new after-work dinner spot. But Eddie never claimed to be normal. And he’s always been a tad bit obsessed with Steve Harrington, so here they are. 

Steve has long resigned himself to his nightly visits. Never once has he acknowledged their shared history, and Eddie hasn’t pushed. Instead, he’s slowly putting together all the little puzzle pieces he’s been collecting. 

Steve will grumble and scowl and bitch over Eddie’s absurd orders and constant attempts at flirting, but he never fails to pocket his generous tips, so he must be struggling financially. He’s pulling at least one job besides the one at the diner. Most likely a babysitting gig, as indicated by the sparkly hair clips and stickers that Eddie regularly spots in his hair and on his clothes. He’s also not seeing anyone, because if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be working the night shift on Valentine’s Day. 

He also hasn’t eaten in a while, if the tummy rumble as he brings the order is anything to go by. Eddie quirks a brow. Steve blushes and hugs the tray to his chest. 

“Enjoy your meal,” he says, but Eddie holds up a hand and gestures invitingly at the empty seat opposite him. 

“Join me?” 

Steve’s brow furrows. “I’m on the clock.” 

“Oh yeah, and super fucking busy, I can see,” Eddie quips. “Indulge me, my liege.” 

Steve chews on his bottom lip, casting a hesitant glance towards the kitchen. Finally, he sighs and slips into the free seat. Eddie hands over one of the two cupcakes on his plate, decorated in a lopsided tower of frosting and a smattering of heart-shaped sprinkles. Steve devours nearly half of it with two enormous bites, and if triumph blooms warm and heavy in Eddie’s chest, that’s neither here nor there. 

“So,” he drawls, ignoring his own cupcake in favor of stacking his chin on top of his folded hands, peering at Steve over the rim of his sunglasses. “How was your day? Been handing out lots of these little babies?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure,” he says around a mouthful of frosting. “Have you seen this place? Premium date spot. So classy and romantic.” 

They lapse into silence for a few seconds. Steve grabs the milkshake with the two straws without waiting for an invitation and takes an enormous sip. There’s a tiny pink sprinkle at the corner of his mouth. Eddie resists the temptation to reach out and wipe it away. 

“What about you, huh? You own the record label down the street, right? Surely your day was much more interesting than mine.” 

So he isn’t the only one who’s been puzzling, Eddie thinks. 

“Hellfire Records,” he nods, happy to ramble about his baby, even though Steve’s attempt at diverting the topic is not nearly as subtle as the boy may think. “We have some pretty cool bands, but I’m not sure they’re your taste, exactly.” 

“Oh?” Steve shoves the last bit of cupcake into his mouth, licking leftover frosting off his fingers. “Bold of you to assume that you’d know my taste. Indulge me?” 

Eddie does. 

Steve does, it turns out, know fuck all about metal and grunge, but he’s surprisingly interested and open-minded. Much more open-minded than Eddie would’ve expected from Hawkins High royalty. By the time they wrap up their little talk and make their way over to the counter, Steve has finished not only the milkshake, but also the second cupcake.

When Eddie hands over the usual fifty, Steve hesitates. 

“You already gave me all the food.” 

Eddie smiles easily. “So? Gotta let my favorite waiter know I appreciate him on this fine holiday.” 

Something flits over Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable, but it’s gone as soon as it came. 

“Don’t think you can buy my affection, Eddie,” he murmurs, snatching the bank note from Eddie’s fingers and stuffing it into his apron pocket. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie winks and saunters towards the door - carefully making sure to keep the giddy spring out of his step. Steve called him Eddie. Not Munson. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Good,” Steve calls after him. “See you tomorrow?” 

“You bet, big boy,” Eddie says. He’s just about to leave when something else occurs to him. “And I’ll be sure to pick a nicer spot for our second date, promise.” 

Steve’s blush is as pink as the sprinkle that’s still stuck at the corner of his mouth. Eddie doesn’t wait for his retort, just shuts the door and makes for home, grinning like a maniac.

🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕

Tagging some ppl who expressed interest last time: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up challenge #upside diner AU #ready to roll? #hype's holiday drabbles 2024

[1-8oo-wtfbro]

Steddie au where the Party are paranormal investigators and join Hellfire, a paranormal club run by Eddie Munson, a demon who usually just uses the club to get a good laugh at dumb humans, but actually finds himself endeared with the kids. they know their stuff, and he finds himself impressed by their enthusiasm and genuine desire to understand the supernatural. he also might have the slightest bit of a crush on their guardian angel, Steve-with the way these kids are jumping into the fray at the first sight of the supernatural, it makes sense the big guy would make sure theres an angel on hand- and his angel Platonic Soulmate Robin (not assigned to the kids like Steve but she’s there bc she missed him).

Steve wants nothing to do with Eddie and just wants to protect his kids and keep them out of trouble (for the most part. do u rlly think he could stop them entirely?), while eddie is intrigued by him. Eddie flirts and Steve gives him the cold shoulder, determined not to fall into what must be a trap to lead him astray. (it’s not. unless, of course, he’s being led astray right to Eddie’s di-)

[the party does, or doesn’t know eddie and steve aren’t human, but it’d be funny if theres a running theme of ppl-the party’s parents maybe?- thanking steve for being the kid’s ’guardian angel’]

#steddie au #steddie #steddie fic idea #fic idea #stranger things #stranger things fic idea #stranger things fic #fan fic #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 stuff #ao3 fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #love them ❤️❤️ #think buzzfeed unsolved vibes #like v shane and ryan

[hairmetal666]

Steddie She's All That au????

Steve pulls up to the Munson's trailer, a secondhand acoustic across the backseat. Can't believe he's here; that he's actually doing this. He shouldn't. Absolutely should not; knows he let his still-simmering animosity with Billy Hargrove push him to this, to trying to date Eddie Munson, to proving that he's still popular enough to win prom king with the Freak on his arm.

Munson doesn't deserve it, is the thing. For all his weirdness, his off-putting behavior, Steve thinks he might be nice. Or kind, maybe? Steve's noticed how he gathers the freshman who have no one else, gives them understanding, a place to belong. And those kids, they remind him of Dustin, Will, Mike, Lucas, and he can't help but feel something warm towards the Freak, some kind of kinship.

He puts the car in reverse, can't go through with pretending to like this guy who did nothing wrong but be too much himself.

Before he gets his foot on the gas a head pokes out the front door.

"You came," Eddie shouts.

"Said I was." Steve surrenders to his fate and puts the car in park. Eddie watches him as he grabs the guitar case, hauls it up the stairs, only moving to step out of the way.

Steve's eyes scan the living room and kitchen, something in his chest loosening as he does. There are mugs and hats covering the walls, a worn sofa, clutter on every surface. It's home in a way Steve has never experienced. He loves it.

"Alright, let it out, Harrington. I'm poor, etc."

"No!" Steve startles; hadn't realized he'd been staring so obviously. "I like it."

Eddie makes a face, but offers him a beer and guides him to sit on the couch.

"How much do you know?" Eddie asks without preamble.

He strums a couple of notes, things he picked up at summer camp ages ago. Munson nods. "Better than I expected."

Eddie runs through notes and chords, helps Steve get his fingering right. He's patient, almost kind, and he laughs softly as he gently corrects Steve's mistakes.

And Steve's fingers, they won't behave, keep slipping off the strings. Eddie arranges himself to drape around his shoulders, fits their hands together. He's warm, fingers long and callused, his rings slightly colder than Steve's skin.

"Like this, Harrington." And he and Steve strum in tandem, and Steve is caught by the light glinting in his curls, the softness of his dark brown eyes, the fullness of his pink lips. He wonders how soft they are, what they taste like, if Eddie would cling to him or take control.

"You with me, Steve?" Eddie asks, shocking him back to the present.

"Yeah, yes, right here. Sorry." He throws himself into learning, but can't stop stealing little looks at the man teaching him.

And Steve, he knows it's not a bet anymore. He'll tell Hagan and Hargrove he's out, take whatever shit they give him, and Eddie never has to know.

---

A month in, Steve walks into the trailer and sees those little figurines, like the kids have for their game, scattered on the coffee table; sheets of paper with scrawled writing and doodles lining the floor; one of those weird manual things that Dustin always lugs around sitting open on the couch.

"Fuck, Stevie, I'm sorry. Lost track of time." Eddie's face turns pink as he gathers the looseleaf and slams the book closed.

"You play that dragon game?" He asks. He picks up one of the figures, studies the meticulous paint. It does something weird to his heart.

"What did you think Hellfire--Wait." Eddie pauses. "Why do you--Steve Harrington--know about dnd?"

"The kids I babysit play."

Eddie stares at him openmouthed. "Shit, sweetheart. You've been holding out on me. You ever join them?"

"Nah. To tell you the truth, they're pretty intimidating about it."

Eddie laughs, drawing Steve's eyes to his slender neck. "You scared of children, Stevie?"

"You haven't met them, man. They're terrifying."

"You know," Eddie's eyelashes flicker. "I run a campaign with Hellfire after school every Friday. You could--if you wanted--you could come. You're probably busy, I know, but if you find some free time and you wan--

"Eddie!" Steve laughs. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Really?"

"Promise."

---

He shows up that first Friday to some mixed reactions from most of the Hellfire members, and Eddie's shy, pleased smile. They make eye contact and Steve's stomach swoops.

"You came," Eddie says when they get a second alone.

"I told you I would." Steve laughs.

"C'mon, you're going to tell me this isn't a hopelessly lame way for King Steve to spend a Friday night?"

"Maybe." Steve nudges Eddie's chest. "And maybe I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Steve watches them play and is transfixed. He's never seen Eddie totally in his element. His voice goes deep and rumbly, doing accents, shouting, jumping around, banging on the table. Steve can't pull his eyes away, doesn't want to, can't stop smiling.

"What'd you think?" Eddie asks when the session is over and they're alone. His hands shuffle through his notebook, eyes fixed firmly on the table.

Steve grabs his wrists, soft, careful. "Amazing, Eddie," he says. "You were amazing."

"Really?" Eddie's throat bobs. He finally looks up, meets Steve's eyes.

"Never seen anything like you." His eyes drift to Eddie's mouth. The space between them shrinks.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?" his voice waivers.

"Can I kiss you?"

He thinks Eddie might pull away, freeze up, but instead his eyelashes flutter, his lips shaping into a gentle smile. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Steve laughs, slips his fingers through Eddie's hair, closes the distance between them. It starts sweet and soft, until Eddie's tongue brushes his bottom lip and Steve opens for him, lets him take control, as easy as anything. For the first time, he lets someone else lead, sinks into it, into Eddie. It's perfect.

---

Prom court nominations come out with Steve number one on the ballot for king. The other nominees are Billy, Tommy, and some weirdo religious zealot junior Steve barely knows, Jason Carver.

He doesn't think much of it, having slipped so easily into a version of himself that sits at the Hellfire table at lunch, spends evenings at the Munson trailer and nights in Eddie's bed. Sure, he catches Hargrove glaring at him throughout the day, but pays it no mind. Billy Hargrove's always pissed about something, anyway.

So, he's unprepared when Hargrove and Hagan corner him that afternoon as he's waiting for Eddie to finish up a deal. There's a kick in his stomach, a swirl of nausea, at their presence. He didn't ever tell Eddie about the bet, figured it didn't matter since they were together, since they both started falling.

"Think you're hot shit, Harrington?" Hargrove asks. Hagan laughs like he's never heard a real joke before.

"I'm out," he says in way of answer. "Bet's over."

"Stevie-Boy, I don't think you understand," Hagan says.

"Nah, I'm not doing it." Worry prickles at his scalp. Eddie will be done soon, and he needs Billy and Tommy gone.

Hargrove pinches Steve's chin in his grip. "We made a bet, and you're seeing it through."

"Hey, hey, hey," the last voice Steve wants to hear right now shouts. "What the fuck is going on here? Get the fuck off him, Hargrove."

Billy's wrenched away, but he's laughing, and Steve is frozen at the train wreck unfolding in front of him.

"Harrington tell you about the bet?" Billy asks.

"Bet?" Eddie's nose wrinkles in the cute way Steve loves and he's terrified of what comes next.

"Uh-huh. Hagan and I bet Harrington here that he couldn't date the biggest dud in school and still wind up prom king. Little did we know, I guess."

Steve watches as the words hit Eddie, as he processes them, as his face falls. His gut twists as he watches his boyfriend go tense.

"What?" Eddie's eyes widen with panic.

Tommy's face contorts into a cruel smile."You didn't think Harrington was actually into you, did you?"

Eddie doesn't respond, won't look at any of them, draws into himself.

Hargrove snickers. "That's what I thought. Have a good night." He gives them a pageant queen wave as he walks away.

Steve's crosses to Eddie as soon as the other two are gone, but Eddie flinches, stopping him in his tracks.

"Was I bet, Steve?" He asks. His voice cracks.

"It wasn't like that, Ed, I swear. I swear." He grabs Eddie's shoulders, and again, he's pushed away.

"You didn't answer the question."

"It was real for me," Steve babbles. "It was all real for me. I promise."

"Answer me!" Tears limn his eyes. "Was I a bet?"

"It wasn't like--"

"Was I a fucking bet?" He yells and Steve can't take it. Can't take the hurt all over Eddie's face, the betrayal. Wants to erase it, to make everything okay, to get back to where they were last night, wrapped in Eddie's bedsheets, giggling.

"It started as a bet, okay? It did. I messed up by not telling you. I know I did. But I like you so much. I--I--" Steve loves him. He knows without any doubt, but he can't say it not now, not for this.

"Fuck you, Harrington," Eddie says. His voice is even but his face is a wreck.

"Please, Eddie." Steve begs. "Please. Give me a chance to explain. You're everything."

Eddie doesn't respond. He climbs into his van, drives away without a second glance.

---

He tries to apologize.

He tries to apologize, but Eddie isn't at school, not at first, and the death glare he gets from the Hellfire guys lets him know he's no longer welcome. When Eddie does come back he won't so much as look at Steve.

He goes to the trailer park where Wayne--Wayne who he watched sports with, Wayne who liked him--stands on the steps and says, "I don't think you have any business here anymore, kid. Not if you know what's good for you." And Steve nods and goes home and cries.

---

Steve stands on the stairs of the Munson trailer in his tux with a bouquet of flowers that are so purple they're almost black and a self-recorded tape in his hands. Prom is tonight but he has no interest in going to the dance that started all this bullshit.

Music pounds from inside; Judas Priest, he thinks. Eddie's van is in the driveway and Wayne's car is not.

The music quiets at his knock, and his heart pounds in the silence. Eddie frowns when he opens the door, but it morphs into something infinitely sadder when he sees Steve.

"Aren't you supposed to be at a dance?" Eddie asks.

"No, I--I didn't want to go. I wanted to say--Eddie, I'm sorry. I should've told you the truth from the beginning. I was afraid of losing you, and you learned the truth in the worst possible way."

Eddie doesn't speak or move, so Steve barrels on.

"I--uh--I ordered these for you. Before we broke up. And I just thought--you should still have them. That you would like them."

Eddie takes the flowers like he's in a daze.

"And uh, this too," Steve places the cassette in Eddie's hand. "It's um, stupid, probably? But I miss you and I'm sorry and just--take it."

---

Steve's been at the quarry for two hours, staring up at the stars from the hood of his car. He should go, probably. Eddie clearly isn't going to show. But he can't make himself. If he stays here, looking at the sky, losing Eddie won't be real.

He's dozing off, almost asleep, when the shine of headlights has him blinking alert. A familiar van trundles to a stop next to him, and Eddie climbs out. He's wearing a snug black button-down with a deep purple rose pinned to his chest, tight black jeans, and shining black boots.

"You came." Steve scrambles off his car, graceless in his relief, his gratitude.

Eddie nods. "Wasn't sure if I should but--" he shrugs.

"I'm glad you did. Thank you. I--" he swallows. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I'll do anything, anything if it means you'll forgive me."

"Anything?" Eddie's mouth turns up at the corner.

Steve nods, firm. "I promise."

"You learned 'Rainbow in the Dark' for me."

"I did."

"That's a really hard song." Eddie smiles but tears track down his cheeks.

Steve laughs. "It's so hard."

Somehow, without Steve noticing, their fingers are entwined. Eddie lifts their joined hands, studying them. "Oh, baby, your calluses."

"Yeah." Steve blushes. "It was important I got it right."

Eddie's mouth drops as he stares, studying Steve's eyes.

"I know it took you a lot to trust me," Steve says. "And I know I broke that, but please, please try to believe me when I say that it was real for me. From the beginning. It was all real."

Eddie clears his throat. "When did you know?"

Steve's smile is soft. "That first guitar lesson. You arranged my fingers and you just--you were so beautiful."

"Oh," Eddie breathes.

"I was an idiot, Ed. I fell in love with you, and thought I could back out of the bet, that you never had to know. I never meant to hurt you."

"Wait...love me?"

Steve freezes. He hadn't meant to say that, not yet, not when things are so tenuous. "Yeah. I--yeah, I love you, Eddie."

"That's funny, sweetheart. Cause I love you too, and four hours ago I thought falling for you was the worst mistake I've ever made."

Steve's smile matches Eddie's now. "Dance with me?" he asks.

There's no music; just the whirr of early spring insects, the rustle of leaves, but Eddie still smirks, and pulls Steve close. They sway against each other, beaming, glowing, brighter than the stars.

"You're missing your prom, Stevie," Eddie says.

"Nah. I'm not missing anything. I have you."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #she's all that au #angst #angst with a happy ending #mutual pining #fake relationship #fake dating #bet #prom king steve harrington #eddie gives steve guitar lessons #falling in love #first kiss #breakup #getting back together #second chances #steve is an idiot #billy and tommy are assholes #i wrote this because I couldn't stop thinking of Eddie saying “am I bet? Am I bet? Am I fucking bet???”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 50

Part 1 Part 49

Steve feels like he’s drowning, always. It’s just hard to care about school too much when he knows there’s a different universe beneath their feet just waiting to gobble him back up. Barbara is anchor. She keeps his feet on this side of the ground with a roll of her eyes and patience beyond her years for his stupid questions.

Every Thursday is like a mad dash to get all of his homework done. She seems to know that he won’t do it any other day of the week. Too busy drowning, always.

Nancy, having heard the words “Study Group,” had joined by the second week. Barbara had pretended to be exasperated, but seemed excited once Jonathan hadn’t made his own appearance.

Where Barbara was all exasperated patience, Nancy never moves past the exasperation. She tries to beat the answers into his head with an iron fist until Barbara will take over, leaving Nancy to work on her own assignments and stew about Steve’s apparent stupidity.

When it gets too stressful, Steve’s mind drifts to Eddie, down the hall in the drama room, telling his stories with his usual dramatic flair. His eyes would be twinkling as he watches the members of Hellfire stumble around making mistake after mistake. God, he misses him.

But, every failed class is another step behind Eddie. What if Eddie wants to move, leave Hawkins in the rearview mirror, leaving Steve along with it? So, he tries his best. He studies. He tries.

Steve doesn’t notice something has changed until Nancy groands. He looks up, ready to drop his English homework at almost no provocation. Carol has slid into the empty seat at their table and is now dragging notebooks out of her backpack like she was invited.

“Can I help you?” Nancy asks, voice practically dripping with disdain.

Carol looks up at her, eyes wide and innocent. “Is this not a public use libaray?” she asks, fishing a pencil out of her back without looking just so she can twirl it around her fingers effortlessly.

Nancy narrows her eyes. “There are other tables.”

“Steve invited me.”

Steve can’t help the snort. If talking to Eddie about it when Carol had happened to walk by counts as an invitation, who is Steve to deny her? This time, both Nancy and Carol glare at him. He holds his hands up placatingly. They’re like sharks though, and there’s blood in the water. He just hopes not too much of it is his.

“What do you mean you invited her?” Nancy demands.

Steve scowls. “I can invite whoever I want!”

Barbara sighs, rolling her eyes as she snaps her book shut. “Can we just get back to–”

“Is this a lover’s spat?” Carol interrupts, smiling at Nancy sweetly the way she does just before her claws swipe. “Oh, wait no. You ditched him, didn’t you?”

Nancy’s cheeks darken with embarassment, but she says hotly, “I did not ditch–”

Carol doesn’t let Nancy finish. “Did you wait until he was out of the hospital, at least, to fall into Byers’ bed?”

“Carol,” Barbara says, sounding pissed. “Can you shut the fuck up?”

But it’s too late. Nancy gathers her things and stalks out of the library in a huff. Steve sighs.

“Was that necessary?” he asks, plunking his head down on the table. God, why were these people even his friends? He misses Eddie ever more. Eddie would never make things so fucking awkward. He latches onto their connection, letting it warm him from the inside out as he watches Carol examine her nails.

“Sorry for defending you,” she says, like she actually believes it.

Steve sighs again, even more wearily, suddenly too tired to keep his eyes open. “You’ve gotta stop starting shit without all the facts, Carol.” he says, not even opening his eyes to look at her. “We figured it out weeks ago.”

The only sound at their table, in the whole library, is the noise of paper fluttering. He peeks through his eye, sees Barbara has opened her book on the table once more. “Why do you think she’s even here?” she says, glaring down at her book. “Do you think Steve would’ve invited her if they hadn’t hashed it out?”

Carol looks down at Steve’s raised eyebrow, knowing him too well. Because yes, yes he would. Steve had been born with a chronic need to make everyone like him. It’s uncurrable and Carol has spent a not inconsiderable amount of time telling people to fuck off on Steve’s behalf.

He glares up at her, refusing to raise his head. She rolls her eyes. “Fine! I’ll apologize to little Miss Wheeler,” she says. When Barbara and Steve just keep staring at her she continues. “Tomorrow, no way in hell am I chasing Wheeler down.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve says, but he dutifully raises his head and opens his own book when Barbara snaps her fingers in his face.

One second he’s looking down, trying to make out the gibberish words of Macbeth, and then he’s there – still in the library, but it’s gone wrong again. There are vines crawling on the carpet, and it’s dark beyond the red light flooding the cracked windows.

Barbara and Carol have disappeared. He grasps onto the tether in his chest and yanks, hoping against hell that it pulls him back to Will. Back to Eddie. Nothing happens.

He keeps his breaths even and closes his eyes, hoping once he opens them, he’ll be back. He opens his eyes.

It doesn’t work.

Everything’s still red, until it’s not. It’s like something vast has steped in front of what passes for a sun in this place. There’s streaks of red like blood painting the walls and carpet, stripes of shadows interspersed, growing thicker and thicker, like whatever is out there is coming closer.

Steve looks up at the window, horrified. He can’t look away from the window. Just sits there and waits for that thing to come get home. Waits for Eddie to come save him. He can’t look away.

That’s why he doesn’t notice the vine until it’s crawling up his ankle and yanks. He hits the carpet, hard.

“Steve?” Barbara asks. She’s crouched beside him, looking worried as Carol laughs, still in her seat. “Are you okay?”

Steve smiles up at Barbara. “Sorry, must have dozed off.”

She furrows her brows, clearly disbelieving as she asks, “are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine!” he says, sitting up painfully from the carpet. He doesn’t look back at Barbara’s expression, but he can feel her pointed glare. “Fine, I twinged my shoulder a bit.”

“The bad one?” she demands, already pulling his sweatshirt off his shoulder to take a look.

That gets Carol’s attention. “You have a bad one?” she asks, sliding out of her chair to sit by him on the floor. He can tell the moment his injury is uncovered by the way her eyes widen. It’s mostly scar now, red and jagged and puckered around the edges. It’s all edge. “What the fuck?”

Barbara examines the wound, as if she even knows what to look for. She hasn’t ever seen it. In the hospital it’d been bandaged, and now he keeps it covered religiously. “I think it’s okay?” she says, like she’s asking him. He nods.

“Okay?” Carol demands. “What the fuck happened?”

Steve closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted. From the questions and the walking nighmare he keeps slipping into. “Can we not?” he asks, voice small.

There’s silence. Steve digs his head into the ground and doesn’t analyze it. “Okay,” Carol says quietly.

They settle back into their respective seats, and each pretend to focus as their designated study session time finishes quietly if unproductively. When the hour ticks over, Steve shoves his papers halfhazardly into his backpack, relieved to get out of there.

Carol and Barbara trail him through the hallways like escorts, but leave him two hallways down at the entrance to the drama room with barely a wave. Steve watches them walk away; their retreating backs look odd together, but people probably say the same thing about Steve and Eddie.

When he walks in, Eddie’s packing up his stuff while the Hellfire boys shout at each other. When the door slips shut with a click, Eddie’s head snaps up, eyes shining brightly. They dim a little when he sees how tired Steve looks, but he still calls, “Stevie!” excitedly.

Steve comes in, dropping down on the chair beside Eddie’s to wait, too tired to keep standing.

“You’ve gotta help us out, buddy,” Doug says, dropping awkwardly to his knees beside Steve, prostrating himself. “Eddie’s had to have told you something, right?”

Eddie scoffs, “you know I don’t DM and tell!” he says, like a liar. Both Uncle Wayne and Steve have been subjected to many a planning session is Eddie works out the kinks to his latest campaign.

“Sorry, Doug,” he says, patting the other boys head. “I don’t know shit.”

Doug groans, levering himself off the floor and dropping into the seat next to Steve with a mumbled curse and a pout.

“You should join then,” Jeff says, smirking over his head toward Eddie. “No way would Eddie kill you off.”

When Steve glances over, Eddie’s cutting his hand over his throat in a slashing motion he turns into the world’s most awkward wave when he catches Steve looking at him.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Steve replies, grimacing. “Bad enough I have to play with those butt munches.”

“Butt munches?” Gareth asks, arms crossed as he scowls over at Steve.

“You know, they’re about yay high.” Steve holds his hand up insultingly low to the ground. He smiles, can almost hear Dustin’s protest in his ear. “Won’t leave me alone for some goddamn reason.”

Doug, Gareth, and Jeff all trade glances Steve’s too tired to even try to interpret. “Freak,” Gareth says, nodding like they’d all agreed on something. Steve would be insulted, but he says it the same way Eddie does; like it’s the highest compliment he could bestow upon anyone.

The other two nod their agreements while Eddie groans and Steve looks between them bemusedly before looking at Eddie for an answer.

Eddie clears his throat uncomfortably, looks down at the wrist that doesn’t have his watch and says, “oh, look at the time!” he throws his arms in the air, yawning theatrically despite it barely being seven at night. “Time to go, Stevie!”

Steve squints up at him, befuddled. “Freak,” he says, sharing nods with the other three. Doug nods like this is serious business, but Jeff and Gareth bite their lips against a laugh as Eddie groans.

“I never should have introduced you,” he says forlornly, grabbing his stuff and linking his arm with Steve’s to lead him away.

Yeah, it’s been a good day.

Part 51

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

[steviesbicrisis]

Corroded Flowers Updates

Main Tags: Social Media AU | Band AU | Corroded Coffin AU | Fruity Four AU | Idiots in Love | unintentional fake relationship | Misunderstandings | past toxic friendship

Pairings: Steddie | Ronance

Status: 20/20 | Complete

Since I'm having trouble linking the CF updates to each other I decided for my own sake to just make a list here and update it every time I post a new update. I hope this makes it easier to read the AU!

Introduction:

2. First Hideout Gig:

3. Love Sucks Sometimes & Hellfire Club:

4. The Intervention:

5. Halloween pt 1:

6. Halloween pt 2:

7. Bonding Times:

8. A taste of Success:

9. The Instagram Live:

10. The Business Meeting:

#steddie #steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve and eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #steve and robin #robin buckley #robin and nancy #ronance #robin x nancy #nancy wheeler #manager nancy wheeler #singer robin buckley #guitarist eddie munson #groupie steve harrington #band au #fruity four au #modern au #social media au #fruity four social media au #corroded flowers #sbc writes

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A crush that was better off a secret and a kiss that should never have happened.

Masterlist WC: 12399

TW: 2012 AU, Older!Eddie, Older!Steve, Femreader, Second Chance Romance (not a slow burn), Love Triangle, Smut, 18+ No minors beta'd by @superblysubpar

A sharp chill nips at your cheeks as gusts of autumn wind blow through the amber-leafed trees that surround  Hawkins High's parking lot. You pick at the splintered wood of the picnic table beneath you, etched with initials and scribbles. The anguished croon of Placebo plays through your headphones, drowning out the sounds of the start of another school day. Shifting the pile of books on your lap, you steal a glance at where Eddie stands with his back to you a few yards away. Lately, it’s like your best friend has purchased real estate in your brain. Daydreams resulting in hearts doodled in the margins of your notebooks a little too close to where you printed his name. His dark curls spill over the collar of his worn denim vest, shadowing the frayed edges of the Dio patch he had sown on last week. He's deep in conversation with Dan Shelter, a senior in the same class that Eddie would have been in if he hadn’t missed so much time after his mother passed. They both turn and look at you at the same time.

Eddie’s eyes narrow as his brows pull tighter into a frown. You push one of your headphones back, and the noise of everyday chatter and car engines bursts into your reality like a bubble popping. 

"You know your girlfriend is deeply weird, Munson," the spiky-haired jock says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, not even trying to hide his distaste.

Girlfriend? You’ve both tried to stamp out that rumor—yet no matter who else you go out with, those sparks never last and pale in comparison to the steady flame you feel around Eddie. Would it really be so bad if it were true? But your answer scares you more than you expect. 

"She’s not my girl," Eddie retorts with a swift shake of his head, his voice edged with that familiar bite of annoyance. His foot scuffs against the asphalt, the white Reebok stark against the black of his jeans that cling to his narrow hips. With a sigh of impatience escaping him, the fabric of his Hellfire Club t-shirt pulls tighter across his chest, outlining his lean frame underneath. 

"You in or out?" He snaps his fingers near Dan's face, the sunlight catching on the silver rings that adorn his fingers, "I've got other places to be, and you're not my only customer."

"Sure, whatever," Dan grumbles, extending his hand with a few crumpled bills.

Eddie accepts the cash with an easy smirk and a casual flick of his fingers. He teases the dime bag between thumb and forefinger, letting it sway like a pendulum for a heartbeat. Dan’s hand hovers, eyes darting for prying eyes, but before he can grasp it, Eddie lets the bag drop to the ground. 

"Oops," Eddie says, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. He pivots on his heel, walking away without a backward glance.

Dan’s face ignites with anger as he stoops for the bag, muttering curses under his breath.

"Always a pleasure," Eddie calls over his shoulder as he turns to join you, flashing a dismissive two-fingered salute. A gaggle of giggling girls from the sophomore class crosses his path, eyes trailing over him like he's their favorite song come to life.  

"Ladies." He casually extends an arm, waving them past, his voice a smooth melody that never fails to draw attention. They flutter past with whispers and longing glances. Despite their whispers of 'freak' in the corridors, they all seem to vie for a chance to climb into the back of his van, to be the subject of rumors they'd later deny.

He never hides his interest when he likes a girl — everybody knows when Eddie Munson is into someone. But he’s never looked at you that way, never given you that smile meant for those he desires. And that’s something that has never bothered you. Now, it stirs something else — a green thorny vine wrapping around your insides. He’s just Eddie–your friend, the same old Eddie, even as your heart whispers lies of a different tune.

Without missing a beat, he saunters over, the rhythmic clink of his chain wallet punctuating each step. He leaps onto the picnic table, landing beside you with a thud that sends vibrations through the timeworn wood, eyes lingering on the girls retreating forms.

"You need to be careful, Eddie," you warn, your eyes following as Dan stalks off, his annoyance like a dark cloud.

"Careful is my middle name, doll." He smiles a big, sly grin, dimples deepening, that causes a flutter in your chest, an unexplained sensation that's become strangely frequent these days.

He nods at your leg."What’s this?" His eyes drop to your thigh, dark lashes making a half-moon shadow on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the square field of bright white crosses over the darker denim patch on your jeans, and a trail of tingles follows, unbidden and unwelcome. You disguise the shiver as a chill from the wind, even as you yearn to lean into his touch.

"It’s called sashiko," you explain, strangely aware of the warmth of his skin, the ghost of his touch lingering with an unfamiliar tingle. "The art of visible mending." 

"Looks cool," he says, his gaze meeting yours, a little too intense, a little too long. Your fingers clutch your notebooks tighter, a shield against whatever this feeling is.

"Are you coming over after school?" Your voice is steadier than you feel.

"I’ll drop you off, but I’ve got to go back to the trailer after," Eddie replies, his eyes still holding yours, a silent conversation you can't quite interpret. "I’ve got stuff to do," he adds, and something in his tone suggests layers you're not ready to peel back, "Not your kind of stuff."

The house where Eddie grew up doesn't even look the same anymore. Someone else has moved in, always keeping the lawn perfect, and all the broken things have been fixed up. Erasing any traces of tragedy. The neighborhood has moved on as well, absolving themselves. Like they hadn’t just turned their back and let it happen as if it wasn't their problem. Eddie's staying on the other side of town now with his Uncle Wayne in a tiny one-bedroom trailer. Wayne's heart is in the right place, even if he drinks too much, just like Eddie's dad did. But he's not bad, just... lost when it comes to dealing with an angry teen, and with him working nights, Eddie's on his own to figure out how to deal with it all. 

"I can keep you company," you offer, the words casual but your heart isn't in it. You can't help the way your gaze lingers on him, hopeful despite yourself.

He shakes his head, a shadow crossing his features. "Nah, I’ve got to stop at Rick's, then a run," he says, and there's a hardness in his eyes that wasn't there before.

You frown, frustration knitting your brows. "I don’t see what the big deal is," you argue, your voice lower, "We smoke together all the time."

"The big deal," he says, reaching out to lift your chin, forcing you to look at him, "Is that this is business, and I don’t want you involved. Alright?" His voice is firm, letting you know he won’t budge. "I’ll pick you up later," he promises, "Movie night, just us."

The shrill ring of the bell is your cue to retreat, to put distance between you and these feelings that are threatening to upend everything. You nod at him, shoving your books into your bag. His gaze holds onto you for a heavy beat before breaking away, stirring a current of unease within you. There's a shift in the air, a prelude to something you can't name, like the static before a storm leaving a trail of goosebumps on your arms and a warmth low in your belly as you part ways at the door. Eddie's last glance sears itself into your thoughts. 

As you make your way to class, the feeling clings, like an overplayed song on the radio — a sense that the simplicity of life is about to fracture. The ache is new and confusing. You hug your arms, trying to squeeze out the gnawing, persistent sting that seems to spread through your limbs. It's a tangible pain, this longing, like a hand squeezing around your heart, making it hard to breathe.

But you push it all down, resolving to guard your secret, to lock it away in the confines of your ribcage, where it can't taint the one thing you value most. The friendship you've built is too important, too rare to risk on a silly crush that might only live in your head–one that might fade with time. It’s a gamble you won’t take. You can't lose him. You won’t watch that light in his eyes dim for you, awkward silences replacing the laughter. Without him, you’d be alone.

It's safer this way–safer for your heart, for his, and for the delicate balance you've maintained for so long. The stakes are too high. You’ll keep your cards close to your chest. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, one you’re determined to win.

Cold grey days have been giving way to dark, inky nights. The stars and moon veiled behind thick cotton clouds, stealing the light earlier each day. Winds gust, sending wet leaves sticking to the glass of your office windows as the bare fingers of the boxwoods planted around the brownstone scratch against the house in protest.

Lowering the lid of your laptop, the light in the room dims as the brightness is trapped between the two halves. Your arms stretch over your head, loosening the tension trapped in your neck as you push away from your desk, drifting towards the sounds of life coming from the living room. Steve’s long legs are stretched out on the chaise end of the couch, a Bulls game on the TV, but his attention is stuck on the laptop resting on his thighs. 

“My eyes are going to fall out my head if I stare at that screen for any longer,” you declare, rounding the corner of the couch.

“Well, then, come stare at this screen instead.” His arm extends, making space for you to crawl onto the couch next to him and fit yourself into his side. 

“You’re so warm,” you comment, your cheeks nuzzling into his chest as his lips find the top of your head. “Don’t let me fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for bed. I still have a few hours of work left,” he sighs as his finger slides down the trackpad, scrolling through a document that seems to never end. 

“Is that for the launch?” Your eyes squint in protest at the brightness of his screen. 

He groans at the ping of another incoming email while he toggles between the many windows he has open. “Yeah, we're in the final stretch. The event team is trying to finalize the details. Maroon 5 and Fallout Boy are locked in to perform, but we’re still waiting to hear back from a few other acts and about a million other details that need ironing out.”

“It’s going to be a great night, baby. Everyone is going to be so impressed,” you assure, the arm you have draped across his stomach tightening, trying to impress your words into him. “Everything is going to go smoothly, you’ll see.”

He scoffs, doubt clouding his voice. “I wish I had your confidence. The server's capacity is still a question mark, and we're racing to fix streaming delays. Fuck!” The heels of his hands press into his eyes. “All I need is this thing to fail at the last minute, especially with Richard and my dad watching.” He imitates his father's stern tone, “Typical. He’s always been a fuck up. Chokes right before the buzzer.” Letting his hands drop, his vulnerable eyes turn to you. “I should have listened to you and not invited my parents. I actually never thought they would agree to come. Now I’m running around trying to get things ready for them too.”

“Hey,” you coax, tilting your head to lock eyes with him and taking one of his hands between yours, your heart aching with the tension you know he’s carrying. “That’s not going to happen, Steve. If the servers have issues or if there's a lag, it's just a hiccup. You've got a team to handle that. You've put in the work, and you're brilliant at what you do. Your parents will see that. Everyone will.” 

He manages a smile, but it’s just a placation.

“What can I do to help?” You ask, “I’ll make sure we have some Pellegrino stocked and that cheese your parents like.”

There's a pause as he weighs his next words.  “I’ve already called the housekeeper and let them know to put fresh sheets in the guest room in case they decide to stay here, but I still need to make a reservation at the Four Seasons as a backup.”

Your jaw tightens, but you curb your annoyance at how John Harrington has everyone trained to cater to his high-maintenance whims, but this is for Steve’s peace of mind. “I’ll call first thing tomorrow. Consider it done. Anything else?”

He hesitates, a little apologetic. "My suit... the dry cleaner closes early tomorrow. I hate to ask, but I might not make it in time–"

“No problem. I’ll make time.”

His lips lift at the corners, and this time, his smile reaches his eyes. “I love you.” He lends forward, slotting his lip softly in between yours. “I’ll put the ticket in your bag. Thank you for helping, Ace.”

“It's just Eddie's interview for me tomorrow afternoon. I should have plenty of time." Standing, you give his hand an encouraging tug. "Now, can we go to bed? Everything will look better after a good night's sleep.”

His mouth sets in a determined line as he shuts down his laptop, yielding to your pull as he rises. His hand finds a comforting place on the small of your back, grounding you both as you climb the stairs together. 

Hitching the strap of your messenger bag higher on your shoulder, you kick at a loose stone on the sidewalk in front of the brick building. Car horns blare in the distance as traffic rolls by in the busy neighborhood.  The sun casts a glint off the steel CursedSound sign, its metal already weathering with a faint tinge of color. The heavy door is yanked open, its clank and whine making you jump even though the sound is expected. 

"Hi," Eddie greets you from the other side of the threshold, the softness of his tone mirroring the gentleness in his eyes.

"Hi," you return, shyness adding a tremble to your voice that shouldn’t be there. His fingers grip the edge of the door, and light flashes off the Rolex peeking out from under the cuff of the plaid flannel he wears over a fitted v-neck and jeans, the fabric snug against his defined shoulders. It’s still a novelty to see how his slim build has filled in over the years, still expecting the boy you knew instead of this man in front of you. He looks you over the same way he did last time like he’s trying to decide if you’re really there. Maybe it’s the differences he sees in you, too, or does he look beyond the scars to the lonely girl he once knew? You shift your gaze away, down the street, your toes curling inside your Converse as a flush of warmth climbs up your neck. "Are you going to let me in?"

"I don't know." He pretends to ponder, a smile forming, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Where's your hard hat?"

Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips until he breaks into a chuckle. He swings the door open wider to welcome you inside. You pass him with a shake of your head and continue down the dimly lit hall, now familiar with the layout. 

The lobby is in utter chaos.

"Sorry for the mess. The maid took the week off," he quips as he watches you take in the sight before you. 

The brown paper has been removed from the windows, allowing bright light to stream through the streaked and dirty glass. All the furniture has been pushed toward the center of the room, and ladders and paint cans litter the floor space. A large mural wrapping around the windows and front entrance has been outlined but not completed. In the same graffiti style as the one upstairs, this one displays more cityscapes with waves of the lake breaking at the forefront. Winged skulls and guitars blend with colorful swirls of clouds rising toward the ceiling. The colors brighten the deep tones of the space, capturing the essence of the city and the spirit of CursedSound.

"It’s perfect," you tell him as your eyes follow the sweeping, colorful lines around the room.

"Was that a compliment?" He asks, coming up behind you. "I thought it was a dump."

His breath, a warm whisper against your ear, spins you around. "Well, what can I say? It’s growing on me." Your fingers move to your lips, concealing your smile as his deepens. 

"You look really good." His low voice bounces off the empty walls, "I mean…your, uh, outfit is nice." He waves his hand toward you before wiping it on the front of his jeans. 

Your brows raise as you glance down at the jeans and plain tee with Lollapalooza written across the front. None of the trendy fashions you usually wore to interviews seemed to fit right today. Causing you to tug at necklines and fidget with the hems of three different outfits before settling on something casual. There’s nothing to hide behind – the armor is off. It’s time to hear him out. 

"Wow, that was smooth," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don’t know why I’m feeling nervous."

The fluttering in your stomach matches his energy. The shield of anger you’ve held between you is battered and worn thin, leaving uncertainty behind. 

"It’s because I’m going to get you to spill all your secrets and print them so the whole world can sit in judgment."

 A choked sound comes from his throat as his eyes widen into saucers.

Unable to keep a straight face, you giggle. "Relax, Eddie. I already told you I’m not writing some hit piece. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides," you shrug, "It’s only me." 

A sharp breath escapes as his shoulders lower. "Yeah, you’re right," he takes a step forward, his gaze locking with yours, "After all these years, it's you.

"Eddie." His name comes out with an almost breathless sigh as you look away. He takes another step forward, and you clear your throat before prompting. "Why don’t you show me what else you’ve done?"

He takes a step back, raking a hand through his curls, "Of course." His lips tighten into a flat line as he gestures toward the stairs. "After you." 

You lead the way to the second floor, where the smell of fresh paint permeates the air. A ladder leans against a half-painted wall, and orange extension cords crisscross the carpet in the hall, winding into the studios as if the work had been suddenly halted.

"Where is everyone?" You ask as you step inside Studio A. It's come a long way since your last visit. The deck to hold the mixing board has been completed, the glass installed, and the wiring is underway.

"I didn’t know how long you’d be here, so I told them to take the rest of the day off." His eyes follow the movements of your hand as it brushes over knobs and sliders of the soundboard, still sheathed in a protective layer of plastic. 

"You didn’t have to do that," you say, walking back out into the hall. 

"I didn’t think we needed the audience," he shrugs, walking along with you to the next room.

"I hope it doesn’t make you fall behind schedule." The walls of the small Studio B are covered with walnut slats to create an acoustic barrier while still keeping the room open, while the mixing room kept the original exposed brick.

"I’ve got time."

"Even so," you say, moving toward the window. The sun glints off the mirrored windows of the tall, sleek building across the street. "I’m sure you're eager to open. Put out that first album with the CursedSound logo in the liner notes."

"I am." He comes to stand beside you, his gaze taking in the bustle of the city at midday. "It’s gonna be good to have nothin’ between me and the music. Let the artists be as creative as they want. Their management can deal with the corporate A&R people and leave me out of it."

"You never did like playing by the rules," you smile, catching his eyes in the reflection of the glass.

He turns his head, studying your profile. "Why should I?" he continues, his tone more determined,"The rules sure as hell never helped me. I'm gonna take my chances as I find them. Even if I play a little dirty. I deserve happiness the same as the next guy."

"Of course you do." The world has done nothing but take from him. His mother. His childhood. The opportunities that came so easily to everyone else. 

"What about you?" He asks as you return to the hall, "The rules seemed to have treated you well."

You raise your shoulders while a warm smile graces your lips, one you have no intention of concealing. "I love my job. I like the city, and…I have Steve."

"You ending up with Steve Harrington," his voice curls around the name, a sneer you can almost see, "I gotta admit, I didn't see that one coming."

Stopping, you pivot to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "He's a good guy, Eddie."

He expels a sigh in a short, almost defeated breath, shaking his head. "I know he is, doll."

The unmarked door at the end of the hall provides a convenient diversion. "Where does this go?" You wonder out loud as your hand closes over the knob. 

"My apartment."

"You're living here?" You release the doorknob as if it was hot.

"Sure. Can't beat the commute." He reaches around you, turning the doorknob to reveal another flight of stairs. "Do you want to go up?"

A tightness grips your chest as you attempt to step back, momentarily forgetting that he's right behind you. He supports you with a steadying hand on your hip as he moves to face you, seeking your reaction.

"No, that's okay. I think we're fine down here. We wouldn't want to disturb Skyler," you say, attempting to sound confident as you wipe your palms along the sides of your jeans.

Eddie reaches up and scratches the side of his head as his forehead wrinkles. "Who?" 

A hot breath passes your lips as you turn away, walking back down the hall toward Studio C. "You know," you call over your shoulder, too chicken to face him. "Skyler Simmons. Rock royalty. Media darling. Your long-time girlfriend. The one you own a house with. Ring any bells? Isn’t she here with you?"

"My what? Skyler Simmons?" The deep belly laugh that follows has you spinning on your heels to face him.

"Wait. You’re serious?" His dimples make an appearance as his smile deepens. "Me and Skyler?" He can barely get her name out without chuckling. 

"The one you’re photographed with constantly."

His brows shoot up. "Keeping tabs on me?"

"Oh, don’t flatter yourself," you huff, "It came up in my research. Do you have a relationship with her or not?"

"I know her," he offers, shaking his head, "She’s a friend. We go to the same group." 

"What group? The one for annoying assholes." 

He pauses, his arms crossing over his chest. "The one for people with family members who are addicts. That okay with you?" His voice escalates. The simmering anger in his eyes mirrors the intensity of his tone. "Skyler is gay. Her girlfriend's usually hanging around, too. Does that mean I’m fucking her too? Jesus."

A splash of frigid water clashes with your hot blood as the fight drains away. Flashes of that day are more vivid than they should be for memories two years old. The carpet of your closet is soft under your fingers as wet splashes of tears rain down on the glossy pages, Steve's voice getting closer as he calls out your name. Glancing down at your feet, your voice diminishes, barely more than a whisper. "Why hasn't she come out in the media?"

"Maybe because it’s none of anybody's fucking business." His piercing gaze bores into you as the sharp words land like heavy stones in the sour pit in your stomach. "Hold on," he waves a hand in front of you, "Why do you even care?"

"I don’t," your voice falters as the dishonest answer leaves you without hesitation, and your eyes trace the patterns on the floor, "It just makes for a better story, is all." 

His hands run through his hair, fingers tugging on the ends as his tone softens. "Doll," he pauses, taking a deliberate step closer. His warm fingers cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those amber swirls, always seeing beyond your surface. "No one else is in my apartment, and no one else is gonna be."

His touch sends a searing heat spreading through your skin as the weight of your engagement ring pulls on your finger. "You’re a grown man, Eddie. Do whatever you want." Stepping back, his hand falls from your face as you turn and enter the studio.

"Fucking stubborn," the low murmur carries under his breath as he follows you inside.

Signs of careful refinement have touched every corner of this studio. Gray triangles of acoustic foam now completely adorn the walls of the live room in contrasting patterns, adding both practical functionality and visual interest. The mixing room's mural stands as a completed masterpiece, and a deep-seated leather sofa, designed to look comfortably aged, takes its place in front.

"It looks like this one’s almost finished." The strap of your bag slides down your shoulder as you sink down onto the couch, taking in the details that have been added since your last visit. 

His eyes move around the room, the pride evident on his face that his vision has become a reality. "Just some wiring and the vocal booth, and I’ll be ready to start setting the levels."

"This one’s your favorite, I can tell," you say, shifting to tuck a leg under you as he joins you on the couch. 

"Shhh," he hushes you, raising a finger to his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. "The others will get jealous."

With an eye roll, you reach into your bag, your smile never fading as you retrieve your phone and open the recording app with a deft touch, placing it between the two of you.

"How does this work?" Eddie inquires, his eyes fixed on your phone, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, typically," your hand slips back into your bag to retrieve the neatly stapled pages of your notes, "I ask a question, and you provide the answer." As you set the pages on your lap, your gaze lifts to meet his, a small, reassuring smile on your lips. The faint strains of songs from the past echo behind the locked door in front of you – one that might be best left closed and forgotten. But he’s in front of you, handing you the key. You draw in a steadying breath, your chest rising and falling with it. "Eddie Munson interview, part one."

"Mr. Munson." You exchange warm smiles, like kids pretending to be grownups. "Thank you for granting us an interview during this busy time. All of us at Stax are very excited to welcome CursedSound to Chicago."

He leans forward, his voice dropping slightly in timber as a much smoother, older Eddie begins to answer, "Thank you. I always have time for my favorite magazine." He winks.

Your lips press into a line as you tilt your head to the side and take a quick glance at your packet. "In April 2003, Fever to Tell was released by a relatively new band and a completely unknown sound engineer. It went on to sell over a million copies, putting The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the name Eddie Munson on industry minds. Fever to Tell is still, to date, one of my favorite albums. Were you aware of the significant impact this record would have when you were working on it?"

"At the time, we were really just hopeful, you know? We believed in the music we were creating. Karen and Nick, and Brian flew out from New York with their last dime, and we just got to work. Karen had this raw, untamed energy, and I wanted that to add the edge to the album. It was this post-punk dance-floor-friendly racket that injected a much-needed dose of authenticity into a musical landscape that was getting stagnant."

"It's not an exaggeration to say that record helped shape the direction of indie and alternative rock for years to come. But what I want to ask is you before all that. What was the road like moving from Hawkins to having your dreams come true in LA? Was this the path you first set out on, or were there curves in the road?"

"I think 'curves' is a generous term for the absolute shit choices I was making for myself back then," he chuckles. "As you know, I left Hawkins about a year after I graduated. That town had already decided I would never be anything more than a freak– a loser with no future. If I had stayed, that's exactly what would have happened. I was trying to outrun my past without a clue what I wanted for my future. I had my own band back then, and sometimes, we’d open for slightly bigger bands that rolled through town. One of them was about to tour and invited me to go as their one and only roadie, and it felt like a free ticket out."

"Bananafish," you interject, swallowing and glancing down at your notes.

"Yeah, Bananafish. God, they sucked. Did you know they started as a Spin Doctors tribute band?"

"No," you laugh, "And that wasn’t a red flag for you?"

"It should have been. I wasn’t with them for long anyway. I think I lasted for three weeks before they cut me loose for getting in a fight with the drummer." He pauses, shaking his head. "I never knew when to shut my mouth. At that point, they had hooked up with another band called Everly. Slightly better, but not by much. I managed to hold it together for a few months. I was high or drunk most of the time, the only reason they kept me around is because they liked the way I babied their instruments instead of hauling them like luggage."

"I remember you’d spend half an hour polishing that Warlock every day after school," you muse.

"Got to treat a lady right if you want her to sing for you," he says with a sly rise and fall of his brows. He casually drapes an arm over the back of the couch, shrinking the space between you.

"I was surprised that you left it behind." 

Eddie's expression turns more solemn, his eyes locking onto yours. "There were a lot of things I wished I could’ve taken with me. But back then, I couldn’t even take care of myself."

"I don’t believe that," you swallow, the words sticking in your throat, "You could have tried."

"If I had tried, they would’ve ended up broken, and I��d‘ve lost them anyway." His long fingers brush your shoulder, and you flinch. The leather creaks as you sit back against the arm of the couch, just out of reach. 

"Back to Everly. Why did you part ways?" 

"Oh, well, I fucked it up, of course. They had landed a spot at Bonnaroo, and I got so fucked up the night before I missed sound check. When I managed to pick myself up off the floor of the van, they handed me my duffel and a twenty and told me to pound sand." His eyes drift away, fixating on a point across the room as he gets lost, reliving the memory. "I had barely been outside of Indiana, and there I was stuck on some farm in Manchester, Tennessee with no transportation, no money, and no one to call. I was angry at the world and never felt more alone. People always talk about hitting rock bottom. I thought that was mine, but now that I look back, it was more of a crossroads. If I had followed that darker path, there would have been no coming back. I was wandering around backstage where they park buses, hungover, maybe still half in the bag, and that’s when I met Max."

"Max Navarro?" You question, shuffling through the pages of your notes.

"Yeah. You know him?" Eddie’s eyes brighten as his gaze drops to the pages in your lap.

Your head turns from side to side. "You referred to him as a mentor in the Stones interview, but I couldn’t find much on him besides his name being listed as an audio engineer for several tours."

"That’s Max." Eddie breaks into a smile. "He’d tell you he likes flying under the radar. He was hanging out in front of the bus playing guitar with a couple of guys when I walked over like a cocky shit, picked one up, and started playing. He gave me something to smoke and it wasn’t weed. All I know is that I woke up face-down in the dirt the next morning. I don’t know if he liked me or just felt bad for me, but he dragged me on the bus and had me start assisting him with the sound for Faith No More."

"Faith No More? Are you kidding me?" Your hands fall to your lap, slapping against your thighs, jostling the cushion enough for your phone to slide toward the back of the couch. "You had their poster in your room. If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you had a charmed life."

"Well, even the sun shines on a dog's ass some days," he laughs.

"So Max is who taught you about engineering?" 

"Max is who taught me about everything." His voice holds a reverence when he says his name.  "He kept a close eye on me. Showed me how to work the boards.  He said he could see the shadows following me around, so when we got to LA, he took me out to the desert, fed me some tea, and exercised my demons."

"Did it work?" Max wasn't the only one to see the looming shadows. Remnants of decisions made by others. Expectations of a community that turned its back. They clung to him like an impenetrable fog, obscuring the light in the world. 

"I’m not sure. I felt lighter after, but it could have been the gallon of sweat," he says, a chuckle escaping his lips.  "After that, he cashed in a favor and got me an internship with a small studio in Laurel Canyon. I parked cars at night and lived in a room the size of a closet at Max’s house. I worked my ass off. I went to therapy–" 

"How very L.A. of you," you chime in, a wry grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Don’t knock it until you try it." He looks at you from under raised brows. "It’s, uh, good to be open, you know?" 

"No thanks. I tried that once." You look at him pointedly, the tightness in your chest returning, "It didn’t work out for me."

The thinly veiled jabs you’ve been sending his way were hitting the target. Something like pain or regret flashes in his eyes. "Doll–" 

"You decided to stay in L.A. and work at a studio instead of going back out on the road?"

"I like studio sessions. Makes me feel like I’m working towards something. I like completing an album and putting it out in the world. Some people thrive being out on tour, like Max. Not me," he scratches at the short hair covering his chin. "Too many ghosts on those old roads." 

Like the haunting echoes back in Hawkins, the ones that jolt you awake in the dead of night, murmuring of the past, the shame emphasizing the pitiable acts of a girl lovesick and foolish. Robin had seen it, and so did the entire town. Yet, you're no longer that vulnerable soul. She lies in solitude now, resting beneath the frigid earth, her memory an unmarked grave. You've moved forward, and you’ll never go back, the city's symphony drowning out the remains of her cries.

"So you stayed and built your life there," you conclude, your fingers flipping through the pages of your notes, making sure every point from your outline has been covered.

Eddie leans back, a contemplative look on his face. "I guess you could say that. I got my own place, made some great friends. Sundays are for Max's family and chile relleno. The weather is always beautiful," he shrugs, his voice carrying a hint of noncommitment, "But I really stayed for the music. Have you been? I could take you some time. Show you around. Max would love to meet you, the girl I’m always talking about. I think you’d like it there."

The girl he’s always talking about but hasn’t bothered to call in a decade. "To Los Angeles?" You ask, your gaze rising from your notes to meet his nodding response. "I've been a few times. With Steve, mostly for work."

"Oh yeah. Makes sense." Eddie's jaw tightens, and he averts his gaze, his reaction a puzzle. "Well, I guess the rest is history. Is that enough for your story?"

"Yeah." You reach for your phone, tapping the red square to stop the recording. "It will be a great opening piece for the series." You pick up your messenger, hauling its weight into your lap, tucking your notes inside. The afternoon is ending like a song without a crescendo. A stone of disappointment sits on your tongue, holding back questions that you lacked the courage to ask, but maybe it’s better this way.

Eddie sits up suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Speaking of history, I want to show you something." He stands up, looking towards the door and back at you, "Um.. wait here, okay? I’ll just be a minute." 

"Okay-"

He holds up flat palms. "Don’t go anywhere." His eyes close as he winces, " I mean, you can wander around if you want. Just don’t leave."

"Eddie-" 

"I’ll be back." He holds up one finger as he exits the room. 

Sighing, you push up from your thighs, rising to your feet. Your steps carry you through to the live room, where the area rug underfoot is a clever imitation of age — its colors muted, its pattern artfully faded, though there's no doubt it's brand new. Your nails lightly tap the high hat as you pass the drum kit, and you smile at the shimmering sound that reverberates through the room, giving you the same pleasure as the sound of glass breaking. 

With a heavy drape in hand, you pull it aside and peer down onto the busy street below. The dim clamor of the city filters into the room, a steady rhythm of life. A question escapes your lips, almost a whisper, as you survey the world beyond the studio's walls, "What am I doing?"

The thought lingers as you spin the band of gold on your finger as your eyes trace the movements of the people and vehicles outside. You're caught in a moment, anxiety a lump in your throat you can’t seem to swallow. The street's hustle and bustle continues, indifferent. 

The sound of the floor creaking with footsteps echoes through the hall. He enters the room with the large box he's carrying obscuring his upper half. You recognize Wayne's shaky handwriting peeking out from behind Eddie's fingers, his name written boldly with a black marker.

"What's all this?" You ask as he sets down the box with a heave in the center of the room and sinks to his knees, hovering over the taped flaps.

"I have no idea," he says with a mischievous smile. "Wayne gave it to me when I stopped by last week and told him I was going to see you. But you know him. He never throws stuff out. It could be anything." His hand smoothes over the top as he raises a brow. "Wanna find out?"

Your hands slide over the denim covering your thighs before your feet carry you forward. "Mrs. Click better not be in there." 

His head tips back with laughter. "I make no promises," he jokes while you shift from behind the glass wall, taking a seat on the floor. Your legs cross casually as you face him from the opposite side of the box. One side of his mouth lifts as he waits for you to settle in. In a graceful stretch, he leans to the side, retrieving a box cutter from atop the soundboard, where it sits next to a pile of plastic straps. His shirt rises, revealing a teasing glimpse of hair trailing down his belly and the sculpted muscle beside his hips. His tongue lightly grazes his upper lip as he expertly flicks the knife open, his jeans snug on the contours of his strong thighs. Exhaling slowly, you avert your eyes, scanning the room instead as you wait for him to slice the tape. 

"Score!" He yells, pulling out the ragged-edged sheet that was folded and tucked into the top of the box. "Corroded Coffin," he reads aloud from the crude writing, scrawled across it with something resembling shoe polish.

"Oh no," you laugh, your head turning side to side as you rock in your seat. 

"Hey. This is rare band memorabilia. It’s probably worth money," he defends, holding it up proudly. 

"Yeah, to the guy you have to pay to haul it away," you giggle.

"Alright, Alright," he concedes, folding it up, the smile never leaving his face as he reaches in the box. "These are yours." He pulls out a stack of comics, handing them to you.

"Still in good shape," you comment, thumbing through Tank Girl and Witchblade comics. Opening one of your favorites, the art greets you like an old friend.

"My campaigns!" Eddie exclaims, pulling out a pile of notebooks and setting them aside before reaching back in. "Some Cds." He comes out with a hand wrapped around a stack of jewel cases, the one on top catching your eye. 

"My Cranberries Cd!" You cry, your fingers digging into the plush carpet as you tip forward onto your knees, taking it from his hand. "I looked for this everywhere. I knew you took it, you thief."

"I don’t know how that got there," he chuckles, scratching his head, "You must have left in the van."

"Nice try, Munson." your eyes narrow, "I checked there." You lean over the box, poking a finger into his chest, "I knew you had a crush on Dolores."

"It was the accent," he admits with a grin, his dimples on full display as his hand closes around your finger, warding off your attack. 

"I’m keeping it," you declare, dropping back into your seat and picking up the case to examine the inside.

"Holy shit."

You raise your head to meet his wide chocolate eyes, a look of sheer delight written across his face. "Close your eyes," he instructs, as he pulls back the flaps of the box, hiding whatever he's found.

"Mrs. Click?" You set the CD on top of the comics.

"Better," he says excitedly, waving a hand toward your face. "Close your eyes."

"Fine." You close one eye, folding your hands in your lap.

"No peeking," he scolds. Your lips purse as you close your other lid, waiting for the big reveal — plastic clanks against something heavy, followed by the rustle of cardboard.

"Okay. Open."

"Daisy!" Yyou squeal, your hands flying to your mouth before you reach out with wiggling fingers.

He winces as he hands over the two-foot concrete garden gnome. "How can you call something so ugly a pretty name like that?"

Taking the heavy lawn ornament in both hands, you gaze down at the way her hat droops over ears too large for her head, which stick straight out beside her bulging eyes and porcine, turned-up nose. Her rubbery lips are pulled back in a smile, showing off her crooked buck teeth and the yellow and white flowered dress that barely conceals her lumpy body. 

"She's beautiful," you tut, cradling the statue in your arms. "Besides, you're the one who stole her."

"You’re the one who dared me to," he scoffs. 

"I didn’t think you were going to wake up the whole neighborhood crashing into the bushes in Mr. Lawson’s yard." Heat takes over your cheeks as you smile unrestrained.

"I was drunk," he defends, his face turning red.

"You tripped over your feet, and your pants pocket ripped off on that branch," you gasp for air, trying to get the words out with your laughter, "You had on those Garfield boxers with the hearts."

"Of course, you remember that." His laughter joins yours, easy and familiar, while his fingers find their way into his curls. "You're the one that woke up the neighbors, making the van backfire."

"It was the first time I drove, and I didn’t have a license." You clutch Daisy tightly to your chest as you try to catch your breath. "Mr. Larson said he was going to shoot you in the ass."

Eddie wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "He almost caught us when you stalled out. All for that hideous thing."

"Shh," you say, covering her ears with your hands. "You can’t get rid of her."

"Never," he agrees, reaching out for her. "I’ll find her place of honor around here somewhere."

"Put her on your nightstand," you suggest, handing her over. 

"Ugh," he says, setting her aside, "Only if you want me to have nightmares."

You burst into laughter once more, a rhapsodic melody that dances and twirls through the room. His eyes ignite with a warm, genuine light, and he smiles like he’s savoring every note, as if your happiness is a hard-earned treasure he's been longing for. 

The shattered remnants of life you once shared press against the scar tissue encasing your heart. They're persistent specters, trying to dislodge themselves and reform into your present. You can feel their sharpness pulling trying to come together like a puzzle. 

Your hand instinctively finds its way to your chest, where your heart resides beneath the layers of history. Pressing gently on that tender spot at the center, you push away the complications of the past and the future and just are, in this moment with him. 

"What else? What else?" You clap your hands, bouncing in your spot. 

"Okay, okay," he gives in, happy to indulge you, "Um, a pack of crayons, a monopoly piece." He tosses them aside. "Could have done without that. Looks like some clothes." He pulls out some folded band tees. "Want any of these?"

"Maybe," you shrug, "I could have them recut."

"Oh, this is yours," he tosses a ball of red fabric at you, and you catch it with both hands before he continues to search through the box.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asks, his voice brimming with excitement as he pulls a rectangular tin from the box. He shakes it, creating a sharp sound as something shifts inside the metal container.

"Yes," he says, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he attempts to pry off the lid. Your focus turns to what you're holding, and you clutch the vest's hems, watching as your Musicland uniform unfurls before you.

His voice fades into the background as the gold name tag pinned to the front catches the light. A heavy sensation settles in your stomach, tightening and cramping as a sick, painful feeling creeps in and spreads — nausea churns, threatening to bring bile to the surface as breath comes hard, each inhale a battle.

"Polaroids," Eddie declares in triumph as he pries off the lid.

"Stop it," you manage to utter, your voice quivering, your trembling hands twisting the vest as if folding it small enough could somehow make the pain disappear.

"They’re pretty faded, though," he remarks, unaware. 

"I said, that's enough!" The balled-up vest flies from your hands, landing back in the box. Adrenaline surges through your veins, and you push yourself up on unsteady legs, resolute despite the confusion on his face. "I need to leave."

"Wait a minute." He gets to his feet, following you. The small pile you made topples over, forgotten as you pick up your bag from the couch. "What just happened?" He moves in front of you, blocking your path. "I thought we were having fun."

"Fun?" The word is a shard of ice. You sling your bag onto your shoulder, stepping around him towards the door.

"Just hold on a minute." He steps in front of you again, raising his hands with open palms, lines forming on his forehead. His eyes search yours, trying to find answers. "Tell me what's going on." 

"What do you want?" The words slice the air, eyes locked, a bare blade of anger.

"I wanted to-" His eyes flick towards the abandoned box in the center of the room.

"No." Your head shakes, "Why are you here? Now?  After all this time? What do you want from me?"

"I just wanted to see you." His arms cross over his chest and he hesitates, speaking softly, "I missed my friend."

"Your friend," sarcasm drips from your words as you quirk a brow, "So you show up here with a box of crap and a ‘hey doll’," your voice lowers to mock him before you continue, "And I’m supposed to what? Forget about everything that happened, hand you a clean slate and drop everything to follow you around like a puppy again because you feel like paying me some attention?"

"That’s not…I’m not asking for that." His hand runs through his curls, frustration building in his tone. 

"I'm not going to sit here with you wandering down memory lane and watch you pretend like you cared." Your eyes sting, but tears won't fall. You've shed your last one for him long ago. "Like any of it mattered."

"No one's pretending here, doll." He takes a step closer, his hands falling to his side, fingers rubbing at the seam of his jeans. "Of course, it mattered. All of it."

Your bag falls from your shoulder with a resounding thud, its weight matching your resolve as you push your hand against his chest. "I don't believe that for a second. If it mattered, you never could have done what you did."

"Done what?"

"Left me!" Your hand lands flat across your heart. "Without a goodbye, just some shitty mixtape full of songs I can't even listen to without reliving it over and over."

"You're right." His voice rises to match your volume, his fingers closing around your biceps. "I was a coward, and I ran. I couldn't see that look on your face again, the one you had when I told you I was leaving. I should’ve said goodbye, but I knew you'd try to convince me to stay, and I was never going to. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I can't be sorry I left."

"Hurt me?" You push his hands away, taking a step back to control the cracking in your voice. "You didn't just hurt me, Eddie. You destroyed me."

He swallows, looking away. "You were better off."

Fresh anger surges, along with the strong desire to escape – to leave this dead and buried, maybe for another decade until the hurt isn’t so strong. 

"See, that right there is why I'll never believe you," you snap, pointing an accusatory finger his way as you step around him, your hand closing around the doorknob. But at the last moment, turning, wanting him to hear it. At least once.

"I didn't quit Musicland. I got fired. I cried for days after you left. Then I wouldn't leave my room, not even to eat. I was so afraid to miss your call."

There's regret in his eyes as he steps forward, getting closer until he can touch you again, one hand gently gliding up your arm.

"But that call never came, did it, Eddie? Not one. And every day that passed, I died a little. But then I wasn't sad anymore. All those tears, they turned to hate," you say coldly, locking your gaze with his. "I hated you. I hated you for every song that came on the radio reminding me. I hated Hawkins and everyone in it. But most of all, I hated myself for believing. That's what you did to me, Eddie. You made me hate myself."

"I’m so sorry, doll," his words barely crest the silence, as his gentle hand cradles your jaw.

His touch is hot, but inside you, a coldness lingers–inside you’re stone. "You kissed me, and then you left me. You knew how I felt." 

"I know. I know. I’m sorry." He steps closer, trying to pull your rigid form into his arms, lips brushing your temple. "You don’t even know how much. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing. But you’re wrong. It all mattered. I did care. That kiss..it’s the reason…" He pulls back and looks into your eyes, "You knew me, you always did, but there were things I couldn’t tell you. Things I couldn’t admit to myself, how scared and angry I was."

Your head shakes as you swallow hard. "You're not even real!" You shout in his face, your fingers clutching the doorknob behind you. Spinning, you tug hard, but his hand slams against the door above your head keeping it shut. 

"Stop, doll," he pleads, but the push-pull intensifies. You're no match for his strength. "Stop it!" He yells, his hand pushes on your shoulder, turning you to face him. Anger flashes in his eyes, and his cheeks flush.

"The boy I knew could never have done that." Your shoulder jerks, breaking his hold as you attempt to turn away again.

His fingers wrap around the side of your neck, keeping you in place. "That boy could never have given you what you wanted. He wouldn’t have had the first clue how to handle you."

"Is that why you’re back?" You ask, still defiant even as his thumb presses into your throat, tipping your head to meet his gaze. "Dragging this all up again, ruining my life? Because you do?" 

"Damn right, I do." His words are a gravelly assertion, barely escaping before his mouth descends toward yours. For a heartbeat, the world pauses, the space between charged with past promises, until your mouths finally meet — urgent and fierce. You part your lips eagerly, tongues finding their way together in a hungry and unapologetic dance. The firm pressure of his commanding lips moving in sync with yours is a spark, igniting a flame that seems to spread with each touch. His scruff is a rasp against your skin, a pleasant roughness that contrasts with the smoothness of his kiss. He tastes like cinnamon and a hint of coffee. The scent of clove and cedar envelopes your senses, leaving you lightheaded as fire licks through your body. This kiss is the culmination of years of longing, swelling and crashing like an orchestral finale. Instruments unite in a tumultuous crescendo, echoing the mighty crash of a wave against the shore.

Minutes slip away, yet your greedy mouths remain desperate. The room falls into a hushed stillness, save for the sharp intakes of breath and the sensuous wet slide of lips gliding against each other. Your fingers gently tangle in the soft waves at the nape of his neck, evoking a low, guttural groan that mingles with your shared breath when you tug. The kisses seem endless, broken only by fleeting gasps of air, compelling you to pull each other closer, savoring every taste. His hands trace the graceful curves of your body, touching every inch as they follow a path beyond your hips and ass, seizing the back of your thighs. With a firm grasp, he lifts you. Pressing you against the unyielding door, gasping as he positions you just how he wants — aligning himself hot and hard against your center. 

"Fuck," he growls against your lips as his hips roll, igniting fireworks through your body. Your eyes flutter shut, and colors burst against the darkness – a kaleidoscope exploding behind your lids.

As he nips at the plush of your bottom lip, teeth grazing in a tender claim, a muted buzz begins in your bag—a sharp, insistent sting—that yanks you from the haze back into the real world. His eyes remain closed when you pull away. He leans closer, chasing your mouth, but the moment is already shattered. 

Your stomach plummets in a tight coil of regret as the harsh reality of your actions sets in. His kiss, once sweet, now tastes like the ash of betrayal. A distressed whimper escaping your throat has him finally looking at you, shock written clearly across his features. Slowly, he releases you, your body sliding against his until the flat of your feet meets the floor. He takes a step back, hesitating, swallowing before he starts, "Doll —"

"No." You shake your head, your hands covering your mouth. The gold band on your fourth finger is a cool scorch against your swollen lips. "I have to go." You spring into motion, rushing to the couch to gather your bag.

"Stay, and we can talk about this," he implores, one hand moving to his hip as the other rakes through his hair. 

"Please don’t," you plead, "Don’t ask me for anything else." You swing the strap over your shoulder. "I just ch–" But the word stays stuck in your throat as your eyes swim with tears of regret.

His face falls, and he tries to argue, "It's not your fault, okay? I kissed you."

"Eddie—"

"You didn't do anything wrong. It was me," he insists, frustration in his voice as you scrub your face with your hands. "I don't want you driving when you're upset."

"I'm sorry," you say with an aching heart, pushing past him and closing the door behind you.

The sidewalk blurs under your feet as you race to your car. Fat raindrops splatter against the concrete like a spray of gunfire. Each one a cold, wet slap against your skin, snapping you back to reality. The sky chooses this moment to crack open, unleashing a torrent that feels personal. Your car comes into view, a bright orange ticket flapping under the wiper like a flag of defeat. Perfect. Just perfect.

With hands slick from the rain, you fumble with your keys before throwing yourself into the driver’s seat. Snatching the ticket from under the wiper as you go and crumpling it into your fist, stuffing it into the glovebox to be dealt with later. The downpour drums on the roof, enclosing you in a watery cocoon as you search through your bag for your phone. A missed call from Steve and a text reminding you about the dry cleaning. You spill the contents of your messenger onto the passenger seat, pens and lip gloss tumbling into the footwell. "Shit!" The word is a half-sob as you clutch the receipt marked with today's hours in unforgiving black ink.

Glancing at the clock on your dash, it hits you with the subtlety of a wrecking ball– six minutes until closing. It might as well be in another time zone, given the snarled rush hour traffic and the river that the streets have become.  The car roars to life as you pull out, tires hissing on wet asphalt, windshield wipers barely keeping up with the deluge. Your skin still sings with Eddie’s touch, but it's the burgeoning storm of words—cheater, adulterer, betrayer—mixed with the soft hazel of Steve’s disappointed eyes that tattoo themselves across your conscience. This is the unforgivable sin and you can't undo it, but you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

You're double-parked now, hazards blinking a frantic rhythm. The 'CLOSED' sign on the dry cleaner's door mocks you as you rattle the unrelenting metal handle. "Please, please, please," you whisper, pounding on the uncaring glass, your pleas unheard, bouncing off the empty shadows within. A car horn cuts through the rain — a harsh, impatient blare. "What the fuck, lady?" The other driver yells, uncaring of your predicament.

"I'm moving, I'm moving!" The words are a rain-soaked shout as you slosh back to your car, drenched and utterly defeated.

With a turn of the key, your car growls to life, another angry horn sounding off as you pull into traffic, carelessly cutting off a Yellow Cab in your haste. Rainwater drips from your hair, soaking your shirt. Even with the heater set to blast, it does little against the chill that has settled deep in your bones. Down the road, a bright blue sign glows like a beacon, and you jerk the steering wheel, the car fishtailing as you skid into the lot. 

The pharmacy's fluorescent lights are too bright and too sterile as you grab a small bottle of mouthwash off the shelf in the travel section and wait in line to pay, the store's generic electronic music grating against your already frayed nerves. Outside, you stand on the corner, swishing and spitting the minty liquid onto the sidewalk, repeating the process, trying to cleanse more than just your mouth. A passerby wrinkles their nose at you from under their umbrella. "This is Chicago! You've seen worse!" You snap, arms thrown up in exasperation while the rain and your regrets mingle on the cold pavement.

With trembling fingers, you pull the cardigan you had left at Stax off the back of your office chair. Shrugging it on, the material dampens from your wet t-shirt but offers a little warmth. Your phone buzzes as you settle at your desk — five missed calls from Eddie and four texts. The roar of the heavy rain and being buried deep in your bag had muffled its sound, not that you would have picked up. 

Eddie: Answer the phone, doll!

Eddie: Look, I need to know that you’re okay.

Eddie: I swear to Christ if you don’t pick up.

Eddie: Okay, have it your way. I’m driving to your place.

What? No! Your thumb presses the call button, and it rings twice before it connects. There’s no hello, just the slight hum of an engine and the rain pelting glass. 

“I’m okay,” you breathe into your phone, “I didn’t go home. I’m at my office.”

Your heart drums in your ears with each second of silence. Your eyes flutter shut, relief flooding you when he finally responds, an exhale loosening the tension in your chest.  His voice resonates in a dark rumble through the phone, "We need to talk."

“I….I know,” your voice wavers as you wipe your nose on the back of your hand. “I just need a minute here, Ed. Can you give me some time?” 

The rhythmic blink of the turn signal punctuates his heavy sigh. “Yeah. Alright. But doll,” he pauses as the sound of water splashing against his vehicle mingles with the whoosh of passing traffic, “You’re not running away from this. And trust me, the irony of that statement isn’t lost on me. Think about what I said, okay? I meant it all.”

With a tight throat, you whisper, "I have to go," and disconnect the call. 

Placing your phone on the desk, you dab the raindrops off your face with a tissue. The quiet of the office wraps around you, its half-dark corners and the soft glow from the kitchen creates a place for you to breathe and be still. The raging storm and the ticking wall clock echoing in the solitude do little to distract you from thoughts you’re not ready to face. With a deep breath, you lift the lid of your laptop, seeking refuge in the normalcy of work as you coax the screen back to life.

The song erupts from the speaker on the edge of your desk, a jolt of sound shattering the silence like an accusation. You grab it with fumbling fingers, scrambling to press the off button. The sudden calm is unsettling. Covering your face with your hands, you let out a sound that is equal parts sob and hysterical laughter, wondering how you ended up in this situation. With your elbows pressed against the wooden top, you bury your face in your hands, muffling the sobs that mix with laughter — the tragedy of your life bordering on absurd. 

“What are you doing here, kid?”

The gruff voice cuts through your introspection, startling you for a second time. "Jesus Christ, Hopper," you gasp, clutching at your chest, "You scared the hell out of me."

Hopper's dry remark floats from behind you, hands buried in his pockets. "Guess we're even since Mr. Brightside nearly sent me into cardiac arrest."

“You listen to The Killers?” You ask, a note of surprise in your voice as he drags a chair from the next desk, its wheels screeching faintly against the concrete floor.

“You kids really think Jim Croce is the only thing on my playlist?” A chuckle escapes him as he eases into the chair beside you, “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

You muster a puzzled look, shaking your head in feigned denial.

“Don’t bullshit me, kid. I don’t have much time. I’m meeting Joyce for dinner at that Italian place on Taylor Street. I’ve been dreaming about the breadsticks. Enzo puts some spice on ‘em, I don’t know what it is, but it’s good. You dip it in olive oil,” he groans, “Forget about it. Those things knock your socks off, and I’m wavering on the main course between—”

“I need you to take me off the studio opening,” you interrupt, folding your arms across your chest like a barrier.

“We’ve been over this. Unless you have some good reason–”

“Eddie kissed me,” the confession slips out, eyes widening in shock at your admission, hands flying to cover your mouth.

His brows rocket upwards, then draw together, his gaze sharpening, voice dipping into a low, protective timbre, “What do you mean he kissed you?” 

“No,” you clarify, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing an elbow against the desk, massaging your temple to soothe the forming headache. “I kissed him. We kissed. It was mutual.”

Hopper reclines, the chair creaking under his weight, his gaze level and unreadable. “I’m disappointed in you, kid. I never thought I’d be having a conversation like this with you.”

“I know. I know. Steve…” you trail off, eyes drifting to the photo of Steve on your desk, the words catching in your throat.

Hopper leans in, his hand cutting through the air. “I don’t give a fuck about Harrington,” each word gains in volume, “This is about you and everything you’ve worked for. It’s 2012. That kind of nonsense ends careers. Do you know what can happen if he complains?”

Your eyes roll. “He’s not going to complain, Hop.”

“You don’t know that,” he counters, his head shaking off your naivety. “These things like this have a way of coming out. That was an amateur move. Where is your professionalism? What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, lowering your eyes. “We have more of a history than I let on.”

“Well, stop the presses. I couldn’t have figured that one out.” His voice lowers in resignment, “Maybe this is my fault–”

“No–” 

Your protest is swift, but he plows right over you, “Everyone knows you’re my favorite, but right now, I’m going to treat you like all the rest of the idiots in this place.” His hand waves around the room before pointing right at you. “You’re going to keep your dick in your pants and get those interviews done. If you want to play kissy face, you do it on your own time. You got me?”

Your mouth drops open, disbelief palpable. “You're still going to make me finish?”

“Damm, right I am,” Hopper affirms, not missing a beat. "If I hand your work off, it raises questions. Big, messy questions. What do I tell downtown when they ask why the piece was reassigned? Unless you’re ready to come clean to Harrington?” 

Your lip goes between your teeth as your head shakes.

“I thought so.” Hopper leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "This could be both our necks," he mutters, concern filling his voice.

Your head shakes, but your determination is clear. "It won't."

“It better not. I don��t want to hear another word about it until that last story is on my desk. Are we clear?”

Your jaw clenches, the reality of the situation hitting hard. "Crystal."

Hopper's gaze remains fixed on you, ensuring his point has been made. "Good," he says, his voice softening, "Now go on, get out of here. Deal with whatever mess you've got going on. Just make sure it's sorted by Monday."

Your key slides into the lock and you turn it slowly, the tumblers falling into place with a series of soft clicks. You pause, leaning your forehead against the chill of the metal door, grappling with a rising queasiness that sours your stomach. 

A wave of home's warmth engulfs you, mingled with the earthy aroma of herbs and roasting potatoes. The vibrant strains of Queen accompany Steve's honeyed tones floating down the hall from the kitchen.

"Welcome home, Ace. I was beginning to wonder where you were," his voice, laced with a touch of concern, greets you, “Busy day? Did you write me a Pulitzer?”

Your messenger bag slides from your shoulder, giving into gravity with a loud smack against the hardwood.

His voice grows nearer, warmer as he moves down the hall, the floor lightly creaking with each footfall. “I swung by the Athenian Room, grabbed us Chicken Kalamata, and I have a bottle of chardonnay breathing.”

That dish — your absolute favorite. Your heart sinks further, receding behind your ribcage, unworthy of his care or devotion.

He stops short when he rounds the corner into the foyer, taking you in, your disheveled state reflected in his eyes. 

"I didn’t get the dry cleaning," you admit in a low murmur, struggling to keep your voice steady. "I was... too late."

For a heartbeat, he's silent, but his eyes remain tender, brimming with concern. “Hey, that's alright, Ace. I'll just skip the gym in the morning and swing by the cleaners before work. Are you okay?”

Traces of the day find a path down your cheeks as you sniffle, drawing the cardigan tighter around you like a shield. "I got caught in the storm." 

“Did you forget your coat?” He asks drawing closer as you give a small nod. His hands slide up your biceps, continuing on to wrap around you. “You're frozen.” He uses his thumb to lift your chin. “How about a hot shower, yeah? I'll keep dinner warm. You'll feel better after you eat.” His mouth begins to near yours, but you turn your face away. 

"I think I'm coming down with something," you manage to say, your lies teetering atop your mounting guilt. "My throat is sore."

Concern etches his features, his brows knitting together as he adjusts, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You don't feel hot.”

Pulling away, you press your face into his shoulder. "I think I'll just shower and go to bed," you whisper, your voice muffled.

“If that's what you want,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, though his tone is threaded with disappointment. “Go on up and I'll bring you some water and a couple of Tylenol.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you say, stepping away with a weight in your chest. “I'm really sorry.” 

“Don't worry about it.” He waves off your apology, his smile faint but sincere. His arms fold over his chest as he turns back toward the kitchen. 

As you climb the stairs, the music snaps off, replaced with the distant roar of a sports game, the announcers' voices carrying up the stairwell. 

The embrace of the hot shower strips away the cold clinging to your skin, but it cannot wash away the sting of regret. Sliding down the slick tiles, you draw your knees to your chest, allowing your tears to meld with the streams of water spiraling towards the drain. 

Your life is a song made up of the choices you've made, each one a different note that sounded so sure at the time, but now the harmony seems slightly off-key. The steam rises around you like a specter. It's the quiet between the chords. And you're there, just listening, trying to figure out if there's a note you'd change or if every single one was necessary. As you nestle into bed, sleep tugging like an insistent tide amidst the drift into dreams, one truth resonates clear– the music plays on.

AN: Thanks for sticking with this series. I know it's a long one and I took a while to update. To be honest, I lost a little confidence in my writing but I still feel like this a story worth telling. This is my love letter to Eddie. My way of giving him an ending he never had a shot at. I'm going to see it through. Do me a solid and leave a comment & reblog. My asks are always open. Your song suggestions continue to bring this story to life. XOXO - Jelly

Song 5 - Coming soon! For notifications follow @tornupdates

Listen to Fake Plastic Trees here.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic

[ymaohoh]

Hellcheer Fanfiction Recs

So I've gone mad and read like a hundred hellcheer fanfictions over the last two months. I wanted to make a list of my favourite ones to share.

(all the writers for this duo are super talented honestly so there's plenty more to add here)

Updated: April/2024

You want a Chrissy joining the Hellfire Club AU? take a chance on me by WomanOf1000Faces Roll For... by Not a Little But A Lottie (klarolineagainnaturally) You want to read Hellcheer from an alternative character POV? still awake, playing chase with the sunrise by cyraclove (Max) The Cheerleader and the Hellfire King by cunninghamschrissy (Dustin) she said to me, forget what you thought by kattyshack (Max) You make me the best kind of nervous, pretty sure you do that shit on purpose... by PhoenixTalon (Will + the freshmen) for the freak and the princess by thehellcheervoid (Anysia) (Jonathan) Stereotypes by shroomyystar (Mike) A Gentle Nudge by bigdumbbambieyes (Billy) You want some straight up smut? honeycomb by cyraclove Late one night by AdelaideElaine and sequel Rose-tint my world talk me up so sweet by kattyshack You want some smut with fluff? love you as much as i do by thehellcheervoid (Anysia) the only thing i want (when one drop hits my mouth) by cunninghams and justyrae wilted by cunninghams You want some daddy kink smut? oh, pretty baby, where’ve you been? by kattyshack got someone to hold me, call me his by agentmmayy You want a smutty Hellcheer date? when you’re dressed in black from head to toe (think I like you best) by cunninghams You want Eddie or Chrissy longing after the other? synchronized denial by empress_of_snark Silver Smile by shroomyystar worthless players of a non-believer by cunninghamschrissy he comes to visit me (when i’m dreaming every now and then) by cunninghams (features a Chrissy/Steve dynamic which is also beautiful) i can see you by rose_n_gunses dust off my clumsy words & bad pick-up lines by kattyshack You want some wibbly-wobbly time travel stuff feat. Hellcheer? i just died in your arms tonight by shroomyystar someone reaching back for me by enoughtotemptme You want a body-swap AU? Duality by broomclosetkink (also features the best Chrissy/Wayne moment I've ever read) You want some Eddie vs Jason moments? always be here (from now on) by brightblackholes You want a re-do of Season 4 where Chrissy lives? Check out these epics Chrissy and Eddie’s Infinite Mixtape by LovelyThings aesthetic chills by sloelimbs On the Other Side by JohnGreenGirlAo3 You want a Chrissy/Eddie moving on from Vecna fic? heart begins to beat by makeshiftcandy graceland, too. (whatever she wants) by cunninghams (bucket list AU) trailing stars behind us by HearJessRoar You want an AU Chrissy/Eddie friends to lovers with no Vecna at all? Confrontations with the Devil by Spitecookie You want a fake dating AU? twenty-one rules by elanor_gamgee we're a lie (you and i) by makeshiftcandy

#hellcheer #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #eddisy #eddissy fanfiction #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #hellcheer fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #everyone is so talented

[hellfirenacht]

Writing Masterlist

Master list for my writing and request information below

Request Info

Isekai Chronicles: OPEN (see rules)

WON'T write: shy!reader, popular!reader, cheerleader!reader breeding kink, parent!Eddie or parent!reader, pregnancy

WILL write: Eddie Munson x Reader, smut, fluff, angst

***Requests are subject to approval and aren't guaranteed.

Stranger Things (Eddie/Reader)

SERIES

Isekai Chronicles: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix.

Wing Man: (AO3) Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8)

Dress Code: (AO3) It’s too damn hot to be wearing your Hellfire Club shirt, unfortunately the rest of the club disagrees. One Shot. Reader x Eddie if you squint (Part 2)

Upside Down to Inside Out: (AO3) It has been four months since anyone has heard from Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. After the Events of the Upside Down, he skips town, leaving you to reflect on the fallout and how your relationship changed during the battle for Hawkins. (1 2)

C'More, It's Just One Night: (AO3) (Two-Shot) After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans.

ONE SHOTS

Clean: (AO3) After the battle in the Upside Down, you and Eddie try and get clean. SMUT

Candygram: (AO3) It's Valentine's Day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a candygram.

Water Balloons: (AO3) You and Eddie agree that you aren't interested in having kids.

Meet Me At 4:20: (AO3) It’s hard to be the new kid in a small town during senior year, and there’s only one person you actually want to be friends with. So you do the only logical thing, and set up a drug deal.

MISC. HCs

Corroded Coffin Friendship Bracelets Trend HCs

Being in Hellfire Club HCs

HIATUS

Players Wanted Master List: A series of one-shots about various Readers asking to join Hellfire Club (HIATUS)

Plus One: (AO3) (HIATUS) Once upon a time, you made a deal with the school freak that if he ever got famous then he'd invite you to be his plus one at a red carpet event. Now a decade later an invite shows up at your house asking you to be the +1 to Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin. (1 2 HIATUS)

Sally Face (Sal Fisher/Reader)

Can't Be Unseen: (AO3) Flirting is fun, but flirting with Sal Fisher is the most fun of all.

Beetlejuice The Musical (Beetlejuice/Reader)

The Convention Fic: You were a mod for one of the biggest YouTube gamer, Beetlejuice. Now you’re finally going to meet him in person. Shitpost AU got Wild (Discontinued)

#nacht fic #masterlist #nacht post #nacht face #nacht ask #nacht poll #coming soon to vhs

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 20

Part Nineteen Part One Link to ao3

A huge thank you to so many people but it's especially @thefreakandthehair for betaing, being the best, and generally encouraging all of my nuttiness. Also a big shout out to Bowie ( don't remember your Tumblr my lovely!!) for doublechecking some sensititvity reading for me. Y'all rock!!!

Jeff had the decency to wait until Frank was safely in his house before he called Eddie out on his shit. 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Jeff sighed the second the door closed behind Frank, leaving only the snow, Eddie’s headlights, and two best friends about to have an incredibly awkward conversation. 

“Driving you dicks home?” Eddie tried, hoping that he could fool Jeff into not having the uncomfortable conversation that was already beginning. He kicked the van into reverse, throwing a hand casually over Jeff’s seat as he turned and began to maneuver his way back to the road. 

“Eddie.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything really. Just his name, nothing more, nothing less, but it was Jeff’s tone. 

That voice, the voice he always used when he was trying to cut through Gareth and Eddie’s bullshit. Corroded Coffin had lasted all these years because of balance. Frank was their rock, steady and sure; Eddie and Gareth were the stream, bouncing and playing and whirling around in a daze; but Jeff was the earth around them. Jeff was everything, and Eddie might be their leader, but Jeff was the one that held everything together. 

And he was the only one who could get Eddie to drop the act with just one word. 

“Honestly, dude? I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Eddie sighed, slightly curling in on himself as he focused on the road. The snow was only mildly awful at the moment, but winter in Indiana could turn on a dime and Eddie wasn’t looking to run his van off the road just because Jeff was grilling him about his stupid little completely non-existent crush. 

“Well, what do you want from him?” Jeff asked, dragging the first word slowly out as he thought about what he wanted to say. Sometimes the other members of Hellfire would do things like that— talk slow or choose words carefully, just to try and avoid Eddie’s sparky temper. 

Unfortunately for him, Eddie was already worked up about this particular topic. 

“Great question!” Eddie snapped, going to throw his hands up before choosing to be wise and hold the wheel steady. A small squall was beginning to form around them, and his visibility was starting to cut to next to none.

“Okay, okay,” Jeff said, placating to Eddie’s need to be a bit of an asshat, “So what happened between you and Steve that’s got Gareth so pressed?”

If it was any other person in the car with him, Eddie might have been able to fake it. Even Frank might have fallen for a lie about Gareth’s hatred of jocks and conformity and how Steve was just a representation of that. 

But it was Jeff. Jeff, who was their Earth, who knew that Gareth’s grudge wouldn’t have lasted this long if it wasn’t motivated by protectiveness. That the only reason Gareth wouldn’t have started to warm up even a little bit was his need to make sure his people were safe. 

Few things in life were assured, but death, taxes, and Gareth Winston’s need to protect his own were all a given.  

“Steve probably doesn’t even remember, so it doesn’t matter,” Eddie muttered, evading the question just as he narrowly evaded a pothole that seemed to appear out of thin air on the road in front of them. The storm was picking back up again, and this was not the conversation to be having right at this moment.  

“Well, do you want him to fuck you?” Jeff asked bluntly, cutting through the fat and straight to the juicy meat of the problem. 

“Jeff!” Eddie blurted out, a nervous burst of laughter escaping along with his name. He took the risk of looking away from the road for a few seconds to give the other boy a wild-eyed look, but Jeff seemed unphased, cool as a cucumber as a lion’s smile began to curl on his face. 

“Do you want to fuck him?” 

Unbidden, a dozen images flashed through Eddie’s head. Steve in his bed. Steve shirtless. Steve underneath him with his hair splayed out on the pillows, wrists trapped in gleaming silver cuffs as he begged so pretty for—

No. 

No no no no no no NO. 

“Dude!” Eddie groaned, turning away from the road again to shout at Jeff. 

And then it happened. 

Jeff’s shit-eating grin disappeared, his eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as he shouted a wordless warning cry and Eddie had less than a second to turn back to the road, slamming his foot on the brake and throwing his arm out to protect Jeff from the inevitable crash. 

There was something on the road in front of them. The snow made it impossible to see beyond the shape, but, whatever it was, it was massive. Huge, and hulking, with a dark shadow that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine, and he was sure his van wouldn’t survive the impact. 

But no impact came. 

His tires skidded, the van turned half a quarter, but no collision, no smashing glass, no pain. Just twin panting from him and Jeff, and an empty road all around them. 

“What was that?” Jeff whispered when he was able to form words again. 

“A deer, I guess,” Eddie murmured back, not really feeling all that sure of his answer. He had never seen a deer like that, but he also hadn’t really seen anything. His wild imagination wanted to run with it, but there was no point. Whatever it was, it was gone, and that’s what mattered. 

He leaned back against his seat, his heart still racing as he patted Jeff’s chest twice, slightly assured when he could feel Jeff’s heart pounding through his shirt as well.

“Sorry.” 

“Shouldn’t’ve distracted you,” Jeff mumbled, lacing his fingers together to hide how badly they were shaking. 

“Hey, not your fault,” Eddie said, knowing how Jeff’s anxiety tended to latch to any blame it could when it got tripped like this. Eddie tested the van, carefully pulling back onto the right side of the road. They stayed quiet as Eddie turned them towards Jeff’s house, driving at a turtle’s pace with both hands on the wheel. 

“I want to help him,” Eddie offered into the silence, eyes firm on the road. “If I can.”

When Jeff didn’t immediately respond, Eddie thought that was the end of the conversation, but as they approached Jeff’s neighborhood, the boy next to him spoke up again. 

“Steve needs the help. Something’s really wrong with him, Eds.”

“You’re turning over to Gareth’s side?” Eddie joked, the words thin and frail and instantly disappearing the second he put them in the air. 

“No,” Jeff replied, no veil of humor over his words. “There’s something wrong with him like there’s something wrong with me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Eddie said on instinct, hating the bitter scoff Jeff gave. He pulled up to a stop sign and put the van all the way in park, turning in his seat and giving Jeff his full attention 

“Look at me.” Eddie ordered, waiting until Jeff’s dark eyes met his own in the dim light of the streetlamp before speaking again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jeff. Nothing.” He said, making sure that there was zero wiggle room in his voice. 

Because there wasn’t, and Eddie hated that his best friend thought there was. There was something wrong with Hawkins, with the country they lived in, with the world. There was something wrong with a species that somehow made color a defining factor in a person’s worth, but there was not, and never would be, anything wrong with who Jeff was.

“Fine, then something wrong happened to both of us,” Jeff amended, a ghost of a smile crossing his face at Eddie’s insistence. “Either way, just be careful with him,” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving Steve the shovel talk? Not the other way around?” Eddie joked, putting the van back in gear and turning onto Jeff’s street. 

“When you get him, I’ll give him the talk,” Jeff promised, crossing his heart as he did. 

When, not if. Just one word instead of the other, but a flush of warmth flooded Eddie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Jeff was right to use the word ‘when’, because Eddie’s chances were not even ‘if’, but he loved the positivity. 

“Have a good night, man,” Jeff said as they pulled into his driveway, holding out a hand for a quick shake as he unbuckled his seatbelt.  

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing the edge of Jeff’s coat as he stepped out of the van. “Us freaks stick together. Always.”

It was a little reminder, just a hint of a conversation they had over a year ago, but judging by the way Jeff’s eyes softened and his shoulders lowered, he knew exactly what Eddie was reminding him of. 

“Always,” Jeff echoed, squeezing Eddie’s wrist once before he hurried towards his darkened house and slipped inside. Eddie waited till the porch light turned off before sighing heavily, resting his head against the steering wheel for a moment before reversing again. 

Back to the lion’s den. 

The house was dark as Eddie quietly let himself back in, but the glow of the pool and the embers of the fire crackling in the fireplace gave just enough light to see the aftermath of the party. It wasn’t half as bad as some of the messes Eddie had seen from Steve’s previous parties, but it was still pretty messy. There would be a lot of cleanup coming tomorrow, and Eddie’s heart ached when he thought about Steve spending Christmas Eve alone cleaning up his house. 

Damn this boy. Eddie didn’t even celebrate Christmas, and here he was worrying over Steve about being alone for it. 

Maybe Wayne wouldn’t mind having one more person over for dinner. Usually it was just the two of them, but Wayne loved his strays almost as much as Eddie did, and Steve was an easy guy to care about. 

Eddie would ask him tomorrow morning. Call before anyone woke up and see what Wayne said. Then he would offer to help clean and ask Steve when it was just the two of them. After all, no one should be alone on the holidays. 

Eddie was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the sound of an angel singing somewhere up above. 

Are you lonesome tonight?

Do you miss me tonight?

Are you sorry we drifted apart?

But no, there was no missing that voice. Eddie was a connoisseur of music, but he already knew that almost any other song was ruined for him. He was the cat caught by the canary instead of the other way around, lost in the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years. It was deeper now, fuller, grown almost into a man from the boy he had been the last time Eddie heard him sing.  

Does your memory stray to a bright summer day

When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?

He climbed the stairs slowly, drawn like a moth to a flame, knowing it would burn, but needing to be close anyway. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Outside the room now, Eddie could see it all while still staying hidden. Steve was sitting on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed that was filled to the bursting with his sleeping children. 

His entire self was on display for Eddie, not just his body, but his soul and his mind, a gift being given without knowing, and Eddie was too selfish not to take it. 

Is your heart filled with pain?

Shall I come back again?

This was the boy Gareth couldn’t see, but the one Eddie couldn’t stop looking for. A boy who knew their first memory together. Without a doubt. Who had never forgotten, no matter how much Eddie tried to convince himself he had. 

There was no other reason to pick this song. 

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

And without permission Eddie was thrust into a memory.

Despite it only being his sophomore year, Eddie was more than used to getting detention. In the two years since he had moved to Hawkins, Eddie had earned his ‘problem child’ status at least twice over. This particular afternoon, he was stuck sitting at a graffitied desk in the detention room because he dared to argue when his teacher told him that it was valid to not believe in evolution when it went against your religious beliefs. 

Evolution. The base of all humanity. 

She was wrong, but she was the one with all the power, so Eddie was the one in trouble. 

Still it could’ve been worse. Wayne had given him the van for his fifteenth birthday, so he wasn’t stuck waiting on the steps for a ride home after missing the bus. It wasn’t technically legal, but Hopper tended to look the other way as long as Eddie continued to give him discounts on ‘merchandise’. 

All Eddie had to do was wait out the clock. Mr. Whiter had already fallen asleep at the desk up front and at six, Eddie would be free. Maybe he could even stop at Benny’s. The man always gave him extra fries to bring home to Wayne, and Eddie was making good money now that Rick was in the slammer. He was the last dealer left in town, so things were looking up. 

Well things would be looking up, except the kid next to him refused to stop sniffling. 

Eddie muffled an irritated sigh, sliding his eyes over to take stock of the boy sitting across the way. Clearly a freshman, and obviously his first time in detention. He was looking around the room with wide-eyed horror, slightly terrified of every single thing he saw, and obviously trying to brush tears away from his bruised cheek and busted lip. 

Normally, Eddie would just tell him to shut up. That detention was barely anything to have to deal with in the grand scheme of things, but he had seen the fight that landed the kid in detention, and it had been bad enough to warrant some misery. 

One second he and another boy (obviously a friend given how upset the kid was) were laughing by his locker, and the next second they were exchanging blows. It had been bad, taking three teachers to separate them, and somehow this kid had gotten in trouble for the whole thing!

But Eddie had seen the start, and it was the other twerp that had thrown the first punch. Yet somehow, he was already on the bus home and this schmuck was stuck in detention with the Freak of Hawkins High

The unjustness gnawed at Eddie’s soul, and the longer the kid sat there doing nothing but brush at his already dry cheeks, the harder it was to ignore him. 

Fuck it. There were worse ways to spend an afternoon. 

Eddie grabbed his notebook, slamming it open to a fresh page and dragging his favorite purple pen across the paper, taking a cursory glance at Mr. Whiter’s snoring form before sliding his chair over to the other boy. 

“Hi!” Eddie said, throwing a big smile in the kids direction and hoping that would grease the wheels a little. Eddie knew how intimidating he could look to the rest of the world, and he liked it that way, but it sometimes made it hard to make friends. 

Sure enough, the kid startled the second Eddie spoke, looking at him the way a deer looks at the hunter right before they hear the death shot. He didn’t seem like the type to just outright tell Eddie to fuck off, but he did look massively uncomfortable with Eddie invading his space.  

Oh well, what was the worst that could happen?

“Wanna kill some time?” Eddie offered, holding up his notebook before placing it down on the desk in front of them. A tic tac toe board sat in the middle of the page, and a scorecard was up in the top corner with the word ‘Eddie' on one side and the words ‘Random Kid 'on the other. 

A barely there smile glanced across the kids face as he looked down at the page, and then those big brown eyes were on him. Eddie waited patiently, forcing his body to stay still which was actually a pretty herculean task— not that this kid knew. He had the worm on the hook and the line in the water, and now he was just waiting for the curious fish to bite. 

Whatever the kid was looking for, he must’ve found it because that same soft, shy smile was gifted to Eddie as he leaned down, rooting around in his backpack for his own pen. When he found the one he was looking for, he carefully crossed over Eddie’s purple writing, replacing ‘Random Kid’ with just one word instead. 

“Well, Steve, let’s hope your tic-tac-toe powers are better than your fighting skills,” Eddie joked, pleased when instead of getting mad, Steve’s cheeks darkened in a pretty little blush, and he simply ducked his head with a soft protest and an embarrassed smile. 

They played a few rounds in relative silence, the occasional quiet groan or cheer when one or the other managed to clinch a victory. It was nice, a little boring, but far preferable to what they had been doing before. 

And then Steve’s pen died. 

It was a slow death, long and drawn out with some furious scribbling to try and get one last juice for the squeeze. 

“Here, man, just take mine. I’ve got a spare somewhere,” Eddie offered, not even thinking twice as he gave away his favorite pen, even though he never let anyone borrow that pen. Wayne had gotten it for him on a day trip to Indianapolis for his birthday, just a tiny trinket to commemorate the day, and Eddie loved it to death. 

There was no way Steve could have known that, and yet he was looking at the pen like it was a live snake. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Steve asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the clearly treasured object in front of him. 

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook with a plain black pen. He was scratching out another tic-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page, but paused when he saw Steve wasn’t picking up his own pen. 

“People aren’t just nice,” Steve insisted, giving Eddie an unexpectedly guarded look. “They always want something…so what do you want from me?” 

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, I want to fight the system, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and picking up his favorite purple pen to offer once more to the other boy, “Isn’t that enough?” 

They stared at each other for a long second, until Steve’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 

“You’re really weird,” he said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 

Eddie needed to hear it again.

From there they were off, talking about everything and anything. Eddie shared about all of the  ridiculous reasons he had gotten detention over the years, and Steve explained that the other punk from the fight was Tommy, apparently his best friend for his entire life. They had lived next to each other since Steve had moved to Hawkins as a kid, and had done every single thing together. The reason Tommy had started the fight was Steve had told him he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to basketball try-outs tomorrow. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just want to try some other stuff too you know?” Steve said, looking up from their game to catch Eddie’s eye, “We’re in high school now, so it’s the time to try something new, isn’t it?” 

“Sure it is!” Eddie agreed eagerly, holding himself back from going on a diatribe about the laundry basket devils that ran the school and instead talking about all of the clubs he was in. He couldn’t really see Steve enjoying Marching Band or Creative Writing, but Drama might be a good fit, or maybe Art. 

“You could even join the new club I’m trying to start if you wanted,” Eddie offered, trying to stay casual but practically vibrating at the thought of having someone else to show Higgins that Hellfire was worthy of a place at the table. 

“A new club?” Steve asked. 

“Yea, it’s gonna be great,” Eddie started, taking a deep breath to start his long rant about the joys of dungeons and dragons, “So it’s called—”

“Alright boys,” a nasally voice droned from the front of the room. “Time to pack it up.”

Both boys jumped at Mr. Whiter’s interruption, and Eddie rolled his eyes, frustrated at being stopped right as he had started to get to the good stuff. The geometry teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too eager to get back to his own home to do whatever geometry teachers did when they weren’t at school. 

If Eddie had to guess, it was probably fucking their wives with compasses while reciting geometric formulas as foreplay. That seemed right. 

“And don’t let me catch you in here again, Mr. Harrington. I would hope your parents had taught you better,” Mr. Whiter said as they trudged past him. His blank potato looking face was only showing the barest hints of disappointment, but that was still enough to make Steve cringe away.

“Yes sir,” he whispered, all joy from the last hour they had spent together vanishing in an instant.

“What? No warning for me Mr. Whiter?” Eddie inquired, batting his eyes and trying to take the attention away from Steve. 

“I don’t particularly like wasting my breath on hopeless cases, Mr. Munson,” Whiter droned, half raising one brow, as if shocked that Eddie would even bother to ask for an admonishment. “Try to get your homework done tonight, will you? I’d hate to add another zero to my gradebook,”

Hot shame rushed down Eddie’s spine, replaced quickly by a lightning fury that made his lips loose and his logic take a quick hike. 

“Well, I don’t particularly like making promises I can’t keep, sorry Tighty-Whiteys!” Eddie declared, grabbing Steve’s hand and dragging him away before they could get in any trouble because of Eddie’s big fat mouth. 

“Jesus H Christ, that guys a dick!” Eddie shouted, both boys laughing breathlessly as they burst through the doors of the school. 

“You gonna do the homework?” Steve said through his giggles. 

“Now? Hell no!” Eddie swore, cackling as he did and jumping up onto the low wall next to the school. “Gotta fight the system however you can, Stevie. Trust me. Listen to your elders.”

“Whatever you say,”  Steve said, continuing to laugh at Eddie’s antics. He idly looked around the parking lot, his mood starting to darken as he looked again, searching the parking lot again, but Eddie wasn’t exactly sure what for. 

Then Steve sighed, plopping down on the curb and wrapping his arms around his knees resting his chin on top of them and rapidly blinking. 

“What’re you doin’?” Eddie asked with concern, shocked at Steve’s sudden turn and hopping down from his spot on the wall. 

“My parents aren’t here,” Steve muttered glumly, staring out at the empty lot instead of looking at Eddie as he sat on the curb next to Steve. “The school called after the fight, and they knew when I was getting out, but my dad’s probably going to make me wait ‘till after dinner or something.”

It wasn’t exactly the most damning thing to say in the world, Eddie could think of a dozen things that his dad had done to him that were worse, but the thought of making his own son wait for hours in the cold and dark still made something in his stomach squirm. He could never imagine Wayne doing anything like that to him.

Steve curled up even tighter around himself, completely unaware of Eddie’s internal struggle. 

“God, I bet they’re so pissed.” Steve whispered into his knees. “And now my dad’s going to have to come get me, and he’s going to be even madder about that—”

“Why don’t I give you a ride home?” Eddie offered in an instant, shocking even himself with the boldness of the offer. He had just met the kid only an hour ago, but Steve’s genuine nature touched something in him, and there was a magnetic pull to want to help him that Eddie couldn’t quite explain just yet. “Then at least they won’t be mad at you about needing a ride, right?”

It would make more sense for Steve to say no, to try and play it off, but instead he was giving Eddie a watery smile and a look of gratitude as he nodded, starting to stand. 

Eddie had never really worried about what the van looked like, but as they walked towards where it was, Eddie jogged ahead, trying to throw the multitudes of wrappers and junk into the back where Steve wouldn’t see. Luckily for him, the younger boy seemed enraptured by the simple fact that Eddie had a car at all. 

“I want something cool like a Beemer or a truck, but my mom doesn’t want me to get a car ‘till I’m 18,” Steve said idly, pausing and furrowing his brow as he did, “She’s really weird about me driving for some reason.” 

Hopefully, she wouldn’t feel too weird about a random guy giving her kid a ride home in a kidnapper van. 

“Pick a tape for us to listen to,” Eddie offered as he climbed into the driver's seat, fighting with his seatbelt as Steve perused his choices. Unfortunately, Steve quickly skipped over all of the metal that Eddie had at the front of the pack, but soon familiar notes began to sing, and Eddie’s shoulders relaxed as he recognized the song. 

“Ahhhh, The King. A good choice,” Eddie commented as Elvis’s voice began to croon out into the air between them. 

“Who could hate this song?” Steve asked rhetorically, a wry grin on his face as the tune began to take shape.

“I always loved that nickname,” Steve said off handedly, staring out the window at the rows of corn, “King.” 

“You should steal it then,” Eddie said automatically. Sure, Steve was a kid right now, but Eddie could see it in his eyes. A few years, a couple more inches, and that kid would have the world eating out of his palm. That sweet nature, that funny little humor, ‘King’ wasn’t too hard to imagine when it came to Steve. 

“Maybe,” Steve replied, drawing out the word with a tone that showed that he wasn’t sure about that. He gave Eddie a few more directions, and they got closer and closer to their time being done together. A strange desperation started to make Eddie’s heart race, like he could feel the two of them pulling back into their roles, backing away from whatever they had this afternoon. 

“It’s got a good ring to it. King Steve,” Eddie pushed, pausing and making the turn into Loch Nora before he put his heart on the line. 

“Why don’t you blow off basketball try-outs tomorrow? Come to my club I’m starting instead. You can meet my friends.”

It was a chance, a choice. Steve could make the right one, and be one of them, or he could get sucked into Hawkins and all of it’s hell hole small town bullshit. Eddie was giving him an out. 

“That sounds really fun,” Steve said in a small voice, a secret smile shared between them before it was ruined by a shout from the house in front of them. 

“Steven!”

It was a woman’s voice, and Steve’s entire body stiffened. No more smiles, no more relaxing, Steve was a rod of pure steel, with a blank unaffected face. A man and a woman, Steve’s mother and father presumably, were standing on the porch together, twin faces of disappointed gravity that stole all of the air out of the van. 

“Well, wish me luck,” Steve laughed without humor, his fingers worrying over the straps of his backpack as he started to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked, already knowing in his stomach that he wouldn’t. 

“Tomorrow,” Steve said, the word so thin and frail now. 

And he was gone. Out of the car, and most definitely out of Eddie’s life. But if he was losing this like he seemed to lose everything, Eddie wanted to at least say a proper goodbye. 

“See you later Alligator!” Eddie shouted through the window. Steve turned back, haloed by the setting sun, looking far too angelic for a gangly fourteen year old. 

“In a while Crocodile,” Steve called back with a slight laugh, just a shadow of his former self, turning and rushing to his waiting parents who gave Eddie one last glare before slamming the door shut. 

Eddie waited a second, staring at the locked door and listening to the song on the radio, wishing that the burning in his eyes would just disappear the way Steve had. 

Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and care?

Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

Is your heart filled with pain

Shall I come back again?

Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Eddie opened his eyes again, back in the present, to find Steve already watching him. 

In another world, things worked out differently, but not in this one. 

In reality, Steve didn’t come to Hellfire the next day. Tommy was at his locker bright and early, there to laugh the whole thing off and drag Steve to try-outs come hell or high water. Eddie had seen the whole thing, and he had known then and there Steve wasn’t one of them. Steve’s cheek was still bruised, but there were finger shapes on his wrist that definitely hadn’t been there the day before during detention. He had glanced at Eddie, but quickly glanced away, agreeing loudly that try-outs were going to be awesome. 

When Steve had caught his eye that day, when he had tried to say he was sorry without words, Eddie hadn’t been in a place to listen. He had a thousand chips of his own weighing on his shoulders, and an inability to see anything but his own opinion as right. 

There was no way to be two things at once, not back then. 

But that bruised beat up kid was in front of him again, big hazel eyes begging for forgiveness again. And this time, Eddie finally felt ready to give it to him. 

“Hi Alligator,” Eddie whispered, the words barely able to get out past the lump in his throat. A small smile graced Steve’s lips as his eyes began to shine in the dark. 

“It’s been a while, Crocodile,” Steve whispered back. 

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[dodger-chan]

Did I procrastinate by writing steddie fic again? Maybe. In my defense, I think this is very funny. Also on AO3.

Warning for non graphic but frequent discussion of sex.

Like a good number of things, it was Wheeler’s fault.

Under normal circumstances, Eddie would have no problem sitting back in his throne and staying above the fray while his little sheep had their silly arguments. Talking is a free action, etc. etc. And they’d wrapped for the night, were only delaying clean-up. But Wheeler, pressed by his friends to join in the defense of their favorite paladin, had gone with a very explicable but awkward choice of phrasing.

“I mean, Steve doesn’t suck.”

Eddie bit down on his tongue. He wasn’t going to say anything. He was not.

Unfortunately, something about the tepidness, the lackluster nature of Wheeler’s tone only encouraged Gareth.

“Au contraire,” he said, standing and making a gesture that Eddie chose to interpret as homage rather than mockery. “Harrington most assuredly does suck.”

Eddie bit down harder. He couldn’t say anything.

Gareth then began to list a number of harms done to the members of Hellfire that were, for the most part, merely tangentially related to the actions or existence of one Steven Harrington.

Perhaps it had always been a little unfair, to blame the social strictures of highschool on one individual who had no part in designing them and had done little more than anyone else in the way of enforcement. But what was the point of a figurehead if not to take the blame?

Of course no part of Gareth’s speech addressed the one way in which Steve truly did suck dick: literally. Steve had taken to oral sodomy like a duck to water. Eddie would love to claim credit by citing his excellent tutelage - largely by example - but he suspected his boyfriend was a natural.

Eddie tasted blood in his mouth. He couldn't keep biting his tongue. But he also couldn't set the record straight, so to speak. Even if he could tell all of Hellfire that he and Steve were dating, it would be beyond inappropriate to discuss Steve's cocksucking acumen with the freshmen.

“It's an interesting linguistic phenomenon, wouldn't you say?” Eddie interrupted Gareth’s spiel. “You are debating the merits and acceptability of one Steve Harrington, but using as shorthand a term that refers to oral sex. A phrasing that suggests people who give head are lesser than those who do not.

“Without making too many assumptions, I feel safe in saying that most of us would like to enjoy a bit of oral sodomy in the future. Now, I may not be the smartest guy in town, but it seems to me that preemptively insulting the people who might suck your dick is a good way to ensure they never will.”

He gave them a moment to digest his speech.

“So I should have said Steve doesn’t blow?” Mike asked, tentatively.

“Blow comes from blow jobs, so that’s the same thing,” Dustin corrected. A little less confidently, he went on. “Bites, maybe? Biting’s not a sex thing, is it?”

Eddie sighed. Surely there were insults that didn’t reflect some aspect of his sex life. Though biting was, at minimum, not related to oral. And it would probably be easier not to brag about the number of little bruises he’d left on Steve’s neck. And shoulders. And chest. All over Steve’s body, really.

Who was he kidding? He needed to shut this whole conversation down yesterday.

(this now has a sequel)

#steddie #stranger things #short ficlet #my fic

[kennahjune]

Been having this idea so bare with me while I attempt to explain:

(Note: this isn’t exactly my “usual” content)

No Upside Down AU where like 37% of the human population are some kind of “mythologic” as they call them.

Hawkins is kind of infested with them, despite being— well— Hawkins.

The majority of the Party are mythologics.

Now, Billy and Max move to Hawkins from Cali as per usual in 1984. And they’ve heard of Hawkins. Of how it’s mostly mythologics despite the small human population not being very accepting of them.

So they move to Hawkins and all is well until they start hearing rumors.

Rumors about a werewolf pack that isn’t a werewolf pack. Apparently there’s a werewolf in Hawkins collecting misfits and others and simply— accepting them into his pack.

Billy doesn’t buy it for shit. Werewolves tend to be hella territorial and unwelcoming.

Or that’s what he’s been told by his dad. He’s never actually met a werewolf, being a vampire. Vamps and Wolves don’t really get along.

And so Billy and Max start school and it’s fine. Billy likes fucking with this one guy, Steve. It’s really easy to rile him up and funny to watch him try and rein himself in.

Max is in the middle school, always talking about this one vampire kid and how he’s an asshole but his friends are sweet enough. Billy doesn’t listen too much.

Until he collides into Steve in the high school parking lot. Steve’s in a rush, barely getting an apology out before running (inhumanly fast— Billy notes) down the road where the middle school is.

Billy, thinking “well what the fuck”, follows after him. They arrive at the middle school and there’s a fight going on in the parking lot.

He says “fight” but it’s really a bunch of kids ganging up on one scrawny pale kid and holding back his friends. Steve is rushing in immediately, yelling at the assholes to leave them alone and to scram.

That’s when Billy realizes one of the kids being held back was Max, with a minor busted lip.

He’s immediately at her side, trying to seem angry but not being able to hide the actual concern in his tone.

Billy turns to leave but watches Max run up to the other kids to check on them. That’s when Steve turns to Billy and seems to recognize his presence.

Steve’s pulling the 4 boys behind him immediately, his eyes flashing a bright yellow and he growls and—

Oh.

Steve’s that odd werewolf collecting strays.

.

And idk Billy and Steve go through this whole thing where Billy refuses to be accepted into the pack even tho he basically already is cause no one else in the pack really has a problem with him.

But Max is in the pack (the Party, they call themselves), so Billy sees them all constantly against his will.

And there’s the bit where vampire Eddie also joins the pack eventually, after the kids kind of adopt him in Hellfire and Steve is weak for those kids.

And obviously Billy ends up joining the pack at some point but I haven’t thought that far ahead lmao.

Idk if I want it to be platonic harringrove or romantic harringrove but I’m lowkey leaning towards harringroveson to be honest.

But if you have opinions I’d love to know them!!

I kinda wanna write more for Billy, idk lol I’ve just been in a middle lately

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #robin buckley #will byers #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #el hopper #erica sinclair #billy hargrove #steddie #harringrove #harringroveson #wolf packs are family oriented so I thought this would be fun to right about #I love writing found family tropes #hopper’s the oldest in the pack but steve’s the one in charge #i already have so many ideas #send help #mama steve #steve and the party #steve and literally everyone #steve harrington is a sweetheart

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 4)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 13.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Angst, body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, fatphobia (if you squint?), Babysitter Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Things That Require Communication (Too Bad There Isn't Any), Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, brief mention of suicide, self hatred, loss of identity, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dry humping

Note: Ok this one...took a while. And after 3 rewrites and me coming to a 3 am epiphany that I'm a better writer than I give myself credit for, here we are. Shout out to @ghost-proofbaby @trashmouth-richie @br0ck-eddie @big-ope-vibes and I'm sure a lot of other people for getting me through this. My computer is currently running like a potato and doesn't want me to add more to this text post.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"What do you guys think he's doing?"

"He seems pretty focused. New lyrics?"

"Nah, he has to be planning something really messed up for Friday's session."

"Or, instead of lurking around and gossiping like old biddies," Steve raised his voice to add to the commentary. He glanced up from his notebook and passed an expectant look at the rest of Corroded Coffin as they hovered a few feet away, lunches in hand, hesitant to join him at the lunch table. "You could just ask. Now are you guys gonna just stand there looking like nerf herders or are you gonna sit?"

The boys immediately jumped and shuffled to the table to take their seats.

"Uh, so...Eddie," Jeff began hesitantly as worked on the latch of his lunchbox. "What, uh, are you writing?"

"Miller wants an essay about the Constitution," Steve explained and scratched his forehead with the worn-down eraser of his pencil.

"Oh shit, and it's due today?" Dave went wide-eyed.

"Nah, not til next week," Steve shrugged, and then looked up to see the dumbstruck expressions on Eddie's friends' faces. "What?"

"You're...doing homework that's due next week?" Gareth laughed. "Who are you and what've you done with Eddie?" The other boys chuckled and Steve couldn't help but crack a secret smile.

If they only knew.

It was another hour, another day, another week in the body of Eddie Munson.

For the most part it had been bearable, and Steve wondered if it was actually getting easier or he was just getting used to it. He really hadn't realized how many plates Eddie kept spinning though, and when he initially questioned how Eddie continued to fail senior year...well he quickly changed his tune.

On top of the Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin gigs and practices, and the endless parties that he seemed to be invited to deal at, he seemed to take care of everyone.

He made sure the kids and the guys were all protected from bullies, which meant Steve had to perpetuate the whole Satanic facade--he was getting pretty good at the devil horns and tongue. The money he made dealing immediately got split between various stashes around the trailer, then his and Wayne's wallets, which made Steve extremely guilty about the allowance his mother bribed him with gave him. And if that wasn't enough, Eddie was the one who shopped and made meals for Wayne and, surprisingly, Reefer Rick.

Steve had only seen Rick a handful of times over the years before Eddie had taken over as the designated dealer at all the high school and college parties. More recently, Rick would only make a trip into Hawkins to stop by the VFW and then swing by Family Video. He never questioned why...and he almost felt ashamed that he never did before now.

He got too hung up on rumors and jokes. About Rick. And about Eddie.

Steve had promised to play the part though, and he did...but it was really starting to wear him out.

Still...Steve figured that he would make the slightest bit of an effort on Eddie's school work. For all the glory days of high school that Steve had...he was getting pretty sick of Hawkins High. At the very least, he could help Eddie get out of here. And at the most, if he was stuck in Eddie's body forever...well, he didn't want to be a 50-year old high school senior.

Jeff and the guys had mocked Eddie's speech about flipping Higgins off during graduation...and damn if Steve wasn't going to make that happen, come hell or high water.

The younger boys finally took their seats at the table, Dustin practically bursting with frantic energy, as usual, and Mike extra glum.

"What's got you down Wheeler?" Steve asked, throwing a pretzel at Mike's head. "I know it's only Monday but..."

"Someone's keeping my birthday present a secret," Mike groused and Dustin rolled his eyes.

"Here we go. He's been complaining about it all day," he explained. "Lucas and I literally can't have a minute alone to discuss it."

"You know I hate secrets."

"And he tried to bribe Will."

The two of them squabbled back and forth and Steve grinned fondly.

He might've loathed the homework but he was glad he got to see the kids more. More still, he was...almost grateful that Eddie had been there to guide them through the minefield of the first few months of freshman year, since he couldn't.

"Alright, that's it. Shut up!" Steve finally shouted. "You're just gonna have to have a little patience, Wheeler. Just cuz your mommy still says you're special, doesn't mean everyone else is gonna let you walk all over them."

The guys all snickered and made quiet jabs and kissy noises at him, calling him Mama's Boy and the like, as Mike turned red.

"Shut up I don't--hey, how did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes. Steve's eyebrows jumped in challenge and Mike backed down with a sigh. "Whatever. Fuck you guys...anyway, Eddie, my sister wants to talk to you," he announced in a bored tone.

Now that piqued Steve's interest; he sat up straight and glanced around the cafeteria for her.

As though he didn't know exactly where she and Jonathan Byers sat.

He felt his heart speed up when he met her eyes and she waved him over.

Steve had done his best over the last year-and-a-half to get over Nancy. He'd gone to prom solo, asked new girls out left and right...shit he'd even tried to get her back once or twice. Or at least get her to dump Jonathan. He wasn't entirely proud of it but...Robin had really been the one to set him straight.

He'd faced a lot of bitter realizations but he thought he'd been through the thick of it. Seeing Nancy in passing now and again at school though...well it wasn't doing anything to help that.

And now Nancy wanted to talk to Eddie? Why? They didn't have any classes together--she had practically all Advanced Placement classes and Eddie obviously didn't. Aside from his association with Mike, Nancy steered clear of Eddie.

As Steve got to his feet--ignoring Dustin's cry of "hey can you meet me in the library after school"--a laughable thought struck Steve.

First you had confessed your crush on Eddie. What if Nancy was next in line?

He faltered in his step as he made his way across the cafeteria.

Maybe it wasn't so laughable after all.

Since you had made that little confession to "Eddie," Steve had gotten half-the-idea in his head that...well Eddie wasn't that bad of a guy, what if he could find Eddie a girlfriend or something? He'd tried to ask out a few of the cheerleaders who had approached him about dealing at a party but was promptly laughed at.

And he wasn't gonna even bring up that one girl who was lingering in the theater department last Friday after school, as he went to set up for Hellfire with the kids. He was lucky she didn't just die of fright as he said hi.

What if the answer was Nancy all along?

It almost made him feel a little sick.

Except...

She liked...weird guys like Jonathan...and Eddie was certainly a weird kind of guy. And one of the things Nancy had liked about Steve had been his cool personality. Sure Eddie was sort of a loser...but she was popular now thanks to Steve...what if she liked the cool, bad boy and was getting bored of Jonathan.

As he continued on his journey he mentally calculated the distance between Will and Nancy. Their table was pretty packed--filled with their friends from Newspaper--and there was more distance between them than there had been between him and Nancy right before they broke up.

"Hey, uh, Byers, Wheeler," he greeted awkwardly and crossed his arms over his chest and devoted his attention to Nancy. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah can we..." she got to her feet and motioned toward the door.

Steve's heart pounded in his ears as he followed.

"Listen, Miss O'Donnell was a little worried about your grade and she asked if I could maybe...tutor you," Nancy explained, then paused pensively. "Actually, I asked her for a letter of recommendation for one of my applications and she said she would if I tutored you ahead of the midterm. Sorry. I-I do think she's really concerned about your progress though."

"I think the more accurate statement is that she doesn't wanna see my ugly mug in her class again next year," he joked and she gave him a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile.

"I didn't want to agree if you weren't open to it," Nancy sighed. "But I really need that letter. You'd...you'd really be my hero if you did this."

Steve stared at her for a moment, his thoughts racing at all the possibilities.

It didn't really sound like she was tempted to leave Jonathan in the first place but...that didn't mean he couldn't turn on the old Harrington charm. She had fallen for it once...maybe she enjoyed the charm just in a different package. And yeah, he had you waiting for him if he ever made it back to his body. But...if he didn't...

"Listen, I want out of here as much as the next person," Steve finally replied. "So, uh, I'm game if you are."

"Great!" Nancy placed a hand on his shoulder excitedly and Steve could practically feel the warmth of it despite the layers of denim and leather. "Uh...I have some free time after school today?"

Steve vaguely remembered Dustin wanting to meet him...he was sure it had something to do with the spell and he certainly didn't want Nancy to find out about that.

"I, uh, have a Hellfire thing," he lied. "How about Wednesday? I always study better with a few snacks. We can meet at Benny's? 5 o'clock?"

Nancy nodded and confirmed the time and place. She placed her hand on his shoulder again, then went back into the cafeteria.

It took a second, but Steve suddenly felt like all the wind was knocked out of him.

"Eddie" had a study date with Nancy on Wednesday.

He had a date with Nancy.

Eddie was halfway through his shift before anything exciting happened.

Sorry, halfway through Steve's shift.

He really wasn't trying to be bitter but...

Eddie had spiraled for a few days after the unfortunate mishap while he was trying to...relieve himself. Sure, it started with "Steve's" relationship with you, but it was almost like Pandora's box; once the box was opened, everything flooded out. He couldn't sleep without thinking of it, and every waking moment, he was consumed by the blaring differences in their lives.

He wasn't himself and it was driving him crazy. Making him sick.

The smell of the laundry detergent Mary Harrington used, the taste of the tap water in their hose, the softness of Steve's bed.

He'd tried to get comfortable in someone else's skin but the truth was that he wasn't going to fit in it, even if he wanted to.

However, in order to get back to his own life, he needed to keep playing the part of King Steve Harrington, keep stuffing himself into a place that didn't fit. Ignore the stifling tightness, the bulges, and the stretching at the seams of his very being.

That didn't mean he had to give up everything that made him Eddie.

He'd had a day off last Tuesday, and he'd just...spent it trying to reconnect with himself.

He'd stopped by Rick's for weed--and also to check on him, even though Rick wouldn't realize he was Eddie--drove up to Fort Wayne to get high and walk through the conservatory, buy some concert tees at the second hand shop.

By the time he arrived at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin's gig, he felt almost whole. And then he had one of the best performances of his life.

Only to realize that he couldn’t fully enjoy it.

Which led him to skip out on Benny’s with the guys after the set, because as much as he wanted to see you, he knew he couldn’t stand to witness the way you would be indifferent to “Eddie” only to dote on “Steve.”

This was so fucked up. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

It was as he had that very thought that his beloved van pulled up right outside the store and “Eddie” and the kids piled out, looking frantic and excited.

Dustin caught Eddie’s attention and quickly waved to get him to come outside.

“I thought you were the babysitter Harrington,” Keith sniffed judgmentally from the front of the shop where he was stocking a display. “What’s Munson doing here with your kids?”

“He got custody in the divorce,” Eddie snarled and vaulted over the counter. “I’m taking my lunch.”

“Wh-hey?!” Keith stuttered as Eddie strutted out the door purposefully. “You forgot to clock out!”

Steve and the kids were all talking over one another excitedly by the time he reached the group.

“They wouldn’t tell me shit until we got here,” Steve grinned. “But apparently they figured out how to fix this.”

“What?!” Eddie’s eyes went wide, the prospect of being back in his own body too monumental to not be excited. “That’s great!”

“We’ve translated the passage!” Dustin announced.

“We?” Lucas asked skeptically.

“Lucas translated the passage,” Dustin amended.

Before Eddie knew it, he and Steve were sitting in the back of the van as Dustin, Lucas, and Will went back and forth over their findings.

He felt like he was in an episode of Columbo for a minute. The kids being detectives who solved a great mystery and were reliving their investigation step-by-step. Lucas did most of the Latin translation, but part of it fell on Will’s shoulders. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Latin they learned in class but some obscure dialect.

“Which, uh, I coincidentally have a book about because I have actually been coming up with that one-off campaign for Mike’s birthday,” Will confessed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck as he turned red. The other boys whooped and patted him on the back and Eddie couldn’t help but feel proud of him too.

Eddie always said these kids were the future of Hellfire, but truly he couldn't see them having a better DM than Will Byers.

"Anyway," Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "This is what we ended up with." He pulled a crumpled up piece of notebook paper from its place within his backpack and handed it to Eddie.

The page was covered in crossed out words and different scribbles in each of the boys' incredibly distinct handwriting.

"Jeez, you couldn't have at least rewritten it on a fresh piece of paper?" Steve asked critically. Dustin simply rolled his eyes and grumbled something along the lines of "next time you're cursed, you're on your own" as Eddie and Steve leaned together to read the translation.

A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another's eyes. If what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.

Eddie felt his throat tighten as the guilt washed over him.

Sure, he had accepted that the fault lay entirely with him--he already vowed not to use any occult books for future campaigns again--but seeing it there on paper just solidified it.

A prize reflected in another's eyes. You. But you weren't some prize to be won. Sure he...he wanted you to be his but you weren't some object. And to think of you that way...well...he knew enough about magic to know that it didn't happen by accident. He had to believe that you were a prize, at least a little bit, to make something like this happen.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily.

This wasn't what he wanted at all.

"Alright, so what does it mean?" Steve questioned.

"It means you two are jealous of each other," Lucas explained.

Both Steve and Eddie stiffened.

"What?" they exclaimed in tandem. They looked at each other and Eddie laughed while Steve simply looked horrified.

"What do you mean, jealous of each other?" Eddie scoffed.

"Oh, come on Munson," Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course you're jealous of me, this entire predicament we're in is because of you and because--."

"No, no," Eddie held out a hand to stop him from continuing. "Shut up. I'm jealous, alright? Jealous that you seem to get everything handed to you. Anything you want? It's yours. Is that what you wanna hear Stevie?

"But," Eddie paused and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you jealous of me?"

"W-what?" Steve coughed awkwardly. "I'm not--"

"Why did you say that Sinclair?" Eddie jumped to his feet and pointed at Lucas. "Why did you say that we were jealous of each other?"

"Uhhh..." Lucas squirmed a little under the intense scrutiny of the older boys. "W-well...it's about the way the sentences were structured. I'm not...I'm not an expert or anything but it's referring to you in plural. If what you, vōs, seek is what you lack. Not you, tu."

Eddie then turned back to Steve and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Eddie asked expectantly.

Steve was still for a moment before he began fidgeting. He fumbled over his words--a bunch of well-you-sees and you-don't-understands--as he pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair. Eddie watched, almost sympathetically knowing how hard it was for him getting used to Steve's unfamiliar body, as Steve faltered with his longer mane.

"It's...I...it doesn't matter!" Steve finally shouted. He jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips; he began pacing back and forth, one arm occasionally flailing as he gesticulated. "It doesn't matter why I'm jealous of Eddie? So what? We need to figure out how we can fix this.

"Selfless love? For what? For each other?" Steve blew a raspberry childishly. "Fat fucking chance. There has to be another way. I don't care what we need to do. I just want to change back."

"Change back from what?" a light, raspy voice sounded from over their shoulders.

The entire group stiffened and turned toward the voice and, lo and behold, there stood Robin. Shuffling her feet back and forth restlessly, frozen in place as she tugged her family video vest from her backpack. The moment everyone's eyes were on her, she grinned bashfully and waved at them all.

"Well, shit," Steve cursed in the most Eddie-like fashion.

If it had been up to Steve, Robin would never have found out about the whole...switching bodies...curse...spell...thing...

But when did something he wanted ever be taken into account by the universe, huh?

As soon as the group had realized Robin was there, all of the deflection and anger drained from Steve's body. He felt guilty for another one of his friends getting dragged into this mess. Because as much as he was happy to let Eddie take the fall, the fact of the matter was that Steve was just as jealous of Eddie.

As much as Eddie had admitted to being of him.

Steve had wanted to give her an explanation right then and there, and he would have if Keith hadn't chosen that moment to be his usual effervescent self.

"I'm closing the arcade tonight," he opened the door and glared across the parking lot at "Steve" and Robin. "So you need to clock in Buckley, and if your friends are still here by the time I take my break later, your hours are getting cut."

If there was one thing Steve had to choose that he didn't miss about his own life, it would be his boss.

So Steve brought the kids home and then returned to the Family Video parking lot to endure panic-inducing silence as he waited for Eddie and Robin to close the store. He could have listened to one of Eddie's endless tapes or smoked--Eddie's body was constantly craving one thing or another: cigarettes, sugary or salty snacks--to kill the time. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

It was a literal out-of-body experience. He watched himself and Robin talk and laugh as they went back and forth, helping customers and cleaning up once the store was empty. He knew his friend, knew that she was stronger and smarter than other people gave her credit for.

But this? This made him feel dizzy sometimes if he thought about it too hard.

He hoped they wouldn't get too far, so he could at least...have a decent conversation with her for the first time in a few weeks. Short of seeing her in passing at school...well...he hadn't gone this long without talking to Robin since they became friends.

And he really needed his best friend right now.

Eventually the lights in the businesses of the strip mall began to click off, one by one, and Steve practically held his breath until Family Video's lights finally shut and Eddie and Robin exited the building.

Eddie slapped a hand on Robin's shoulder and said something that made her roll her eyes before he got into Steve's car and drove away.

Robin made a beeline for the van and silently hopped into the passenger's side. Steve's hands--Eddie's hands--gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that he could feel the rings cutting into the creases of his fingers.

The atmosphere in the van was heavy as he sat under Robin’s scrutinizing gaze.

"I knew something was up," Robin finally announced as she slammed the door closed. Steve looked at her as though she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean ‘you knew?’” Steve asked incredulously.

She sighed and began counting on her fingers.

“You’ve been a real grouch when you’ve picked me up from class lately and I know you’re a morning person. Which sucks, by the way. You asked if I wanted to skip home room and get McDonald’s breakfast with you, you hate McMuffins—”

She went on and on, and Steve melted. Yeah, he could admit they had their squabbles and they didn't always see eye to eye. But at the end of the day, no one really understood them like they did each other.

And it felt really good to be understood as Steve Harrington right now.

"--and then you're always complaining when your mom doesn't cut the crusts off your sandwiches and lately you've just been eating them. Also I mentioned something about Vickie the other day and you just ignored it, so I figured that you were just annoyed with me."

She heaved a little bit at the end, having said the last bit in one go without stopping for air. Steve reached across the console and flicked her ear, causing her to slap at his hand.

"Ow, butthead! What was that for?" she exclaimed.

"Are you fucking kidding me Rob?" Steve burst out laughing and Robin chuckled along with him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"How was I supposed to know you switched bodies?" she slouched into her seat. "Here I was thinking that you just didn't wanna be friends with me anymore. Which, you have to admit, is a more likely explanation."

Steve was about to protest but he stopped mid-word and frowned.

"You know what? You're right."

"I know," she grinned smugly. "Now what have you been up to and how much help do you need with this whole 'switching back' thing? Because Eddie isn't that great at being Steve, which means you must really suck at being Eddie."

They went back and forth as Steve put the van into drive and regaled Robin with stories and mishaps in the short time he'd spent as Eddie Munson, and she laughed at his stupidity.

After he left Family Video, Eddie found himself driving aimlessly through the streets of Hawkins. He thought a weight would have lifted off his shoulders after he explained everything to Robin, but everything was...almost a little worse now.

She'd had questions, like any normal person would. Actually, a normal person would have just had them committed. Robin was special though; her own brand of freak. And she was quick to adapt.

Eventually though...the topic turned to you.

When was Eddie gonna tell you what happened? Did you already know? You deserved to know before you fell too hard for Steve; otherwise, you'd be heartbroken if you ever found out that he was actually Eddie.

Of course, that only fed into all of Eddie's insecurities and self-hatred. All of the doubts he had spent days trying to stuff into the furthest corner of his mind returned with a vengeance.

You wouldn't feel the same thing about him if he was actually Eddie Munson.

Robin didn't know exactly what her words had done to him; she was fully oblivious to his real feelings for you. So he'd done his best to keep those thoughts at bay, and resolved to treat himself to a drive around with the windows rolled down and headband to Metallica as he smoked.

But then Robin opened her big mouth as they locked up for the night and it sent him into another spiral.

"You know...with a little more time, I would have probably figured it out," she chuckled. "You're not as good at being Steve as you think."

At first he wondered if that meant you might figure it out with a little more time. You were sharp, especially when it came to other people; what if one day he did something so inexplicably Eddie that you simply refused to believe he was Steve anymore. Sure, you probably wouldn't be able to guess that he actually was Eddie but...he wouldn't be the Steve you liked anymore.

If he did tell you the truth, would you break up with him? Would you hate him? He'd gotten close many times...but it was just so...ridiculous.

But then Eddie realized that he had been banking on the fact that he was doing all sorts of lovely things with you, had such a deep connection with you--he thought so, at least--and that Steve himself could never live up to it if they switched back.

What if he had you wrong all along? And it wasn't the deep connection that you both built? But just...the fact that he was Steve? You really hadn't had many .boyfriends during school, when you hung around with Mickey's sister. Or any, actually. What if you had a crush on Steve all that time and now...

Eddie felt sick.

Sicker than he was the other night. Sicker than he felt after a bad high. All he wanted was to go back home; not the empty Harrington house, but home. Back to the trailer and his stupid bed and to Wayne, who would give him a stiff hug once he saw Eddie was feeling so down.

But he couldn't.

So he went to the place that felt the next closest to home as he could get right now.

To Benny's.

Benny's had always felt like home to him. When his mom was still alive, waiting tables. She'd pick him up from school and sometimes bring him to work with her. He'd sit at a table in the very, very corner scribbling in his notebook or reading; she'd always scold him to do his homework but Benny would bring him a milkshake and tell Eddie that if he never finished school Eddie didn't need to either.

And to you.

You'd become more home than he ever realized before. Faced with the thought of losing you, he knew he would get over the pain if he absolutely had to. He could move on. But something would always be missing. If none of this had ever happened, the home that you were to him would have stayed cherry pie slices on Tuesday nights and the scribbles in his old notebooks.

But now he knew the taste of your kiss and the weight of your hand in his. He couldn't pretend anymore. He had to know.

Eddie didn't hesitate as he pulled into the gravel parking lot. He was out of the car and headed into the diner as soon as the keys were out of the ignition.

It was almost closing time, so the diner was pretty quiet save for a family finishing up a late supper and Chief Hopper who sat at the counter with a slice of apple pie, chatting with Benny through the serving hatch. You were hunched at a table--the very same table his mom would sit him at--rolling silverware; your eyes darted around the diner every so often to make sure your customers were taken care of, and they immediately sparkled when they landed on him.

The motivation he had to make it into the diner was immediately replaced by those stupid nerves.

"Hey honey," Eddie greeted nervously once you crossed the diner and stood before him. The courage momentarily gone, especially as you made it to the door to greet him. "Uh...table for one?"

"We're about to close," you frowned and glanced over your shoulder. "Uh, but I can ask Benny if--"

"Wait, no," Eddie stopped you before you could go anywhere. "I was just kidding. I really wanted...to see you. I missed you."

"Oh! I missed you too," you grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed. "It looks like you came here straight from work. Everything ok Steve?

His ears started ringing; there it was again.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

The name he had gotten so used to and so sick of. The person he had gotten so sick of being.

"What do you like about me?" he sought suddenly, desperately. "Like...really, why did you agree to go out with me when you could have...dated any other guy?"

Your eyes went wide and you began squirming nervously. He couldn't quite place it but there was something there...something that made him even more nervous.

"Uh, hey Ben, can I take a quick 5?" you asked over your shoulder and Benny poked his head through the window. He narrowed his eyes at "Steve" momentarily but nodded.

"No funny business kid," Benny warned. "She's the best I've got."

You pulled Eddie out the door and to the side of the building, where you took your breaks. Where he had danced with you last week.

"So?" he began impatiently. "Why do you like me?"

"Where is this coming from?" you questioned quickly. "Did...I don't know...did Eddie say something to you?"

"Eddie?" Had you...told him something? Something that would upset "Steve?" What would you tell him? And why hadn't Steve mentioned anything about you talking to him.

Eddie tried to rationalize it. You saw him as a friend, and Steve knew you thought Eddie was a friend. Steve still saw you as his own girlfriend. Maybe you were trying to...Maybe you...Maybe he...

Fuck it was really confusing if he really thought about it. He just needed a straight fucking answer. Otherwise he was gonna go crazy.

"No," Eddie shook his head. He would have to go out on a limb here. "No Eddie didn't say anything but I...I don't know. We've been going out for a little while I guess...even when I first asked you out, I never asked why you said yes. And I just...don't know why you would even want to go out with me."

Your eyes got sad, and took a breath, almost relieved, as your fidgeting stopped.

"I mean, I guess...I've had crushes and stuff before," you began.

Crushes? Oh god, what if you were about to confess you had a crush on Steve. Steve...well he understood, Steve was handsome...not his type...it would hurt but he understood.

"N-no one ever...ever really wanted to ask me out for more than...than a party or something," you chuckled. "I mean they did but...high school right? Everyone kind of sucked. You kinda sucked too Steve.

"And I really wasn't...ok it's funny because I was actually planning to break things off with you." You chuckled and Eddie perked up a little. "You were kind of...self centered, and you...you kept...I don't know. I know you had that breakup with Nancy, so I didn't want to be mean, but you just kept bringing her up!

"But then you...you really surprised me. I told you...you're not...not anything I expected. You don't even seem like you were when you first asked me out. You're...caring and you listen. You're funny, and you like classic horror movies? And then you--"

You went on and on, eyes getting brighter with each word. Eddie felt lighter. Everything you said that you liked about him, well they were all about Eddie. Not Steve.

He was...he was getting in his head for nothing. That's all it was. It was just...nerves and...and...he had nothing to worry about. He could have you, when all was said and done. Hell, he could probably tell you right now once you were finished; tell you the truth about the spell, tell you that he was Eddie, tell you that he...liked you and that you were the thing that kept him going all this time.

You'd probably be...confused. But you knew him. You knew Eddie. It would all make sense in the end. And hopefully, you wouldn't turn him away.

In that moment, however, seeing that pride and confidence take over you as you listed all the reasons you liked him--the way you were so sure of your feelings--made Eddie's own confidence falter. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that telling the truth felt freeing. To you, you were just confessing how much you liked "Steve," and while all of the things you just said made him...so incredibly happy...he couldn't help but wonder...

What if you were angry that he kept this secret from you? What if you...hated him for lying?

Robin said it herself, you deserved to know the truth, before you fell too hard. He should have told you immediately. He shouldn't have acted in his own interest. You were...you deserved so much better.

The doubt you just helped brush away began festering inside of him again.

You deserved to know the truth, but he couldn't hurt you more now. And as much as he wanted you to...to love him, to love Eddie Munson he knew that you would feel too betrayed to ever trust him again if he told you.

"--and it kind of helps that you're really cute too." You finally finished with the brightest, most tender smile he ever saw. "Sorry I guess that's just the long winded way of me saying...I really like you Steve."

And as Eddie ignored the twist in his gut at Steve's name--as he kissed you--he decided that he simply couldn't tell you the truth. Ever.

Eddie felt bad just leaving after he barged into Benny's like that, and to be completely honest, even though the guilt was eating at him he didn't want to leave your side. He convinced you to go out with him for a late night snack and then he followed you home where he gave you another sweet kiss on your front porch.

"You're spoiling me," you giggled as you fiddled with your keys.

"You deserve a lot more than I can give you, Honey," he told you truthfully. "So much better than someone like me."

"Impossible."

It was close to midnight when he pulled into the Harrington's driveway, and Eddie cursed when he noticed the two expensive cars parked beside each other and the lights on in the house.

He hadn't had the misfortune of encountering both of Steve's parents at the same time yet. His dad was usually at work and mom usually just...gone, so the few times he did see them...they were just on their own and he could dodge any questions or conversations.

"Whatever you do, just don't talk to them," Steve had told him. And Eddie had kept up that end of the deal so far. He couldn't be so sure now. He would just have to try his best to get up the stairs and into bed before they noticed their "son" was home.

Eddie turned the key in the lock as quietly as he could, entered the house and closed the door behind him without more than a click. He avoided dropping his keys in the little dish on the table in the hall--

There was chatter coming from the living room, quiet laughter. That was odd. From what Steve made it sound like, his parents always fought.

--but he couldn't avoid running into the table itself. The table wobbled and the other keys in the dish clattered and caused a commotion. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"Steven?" Mary's voice sounded frantic and alarmed.

Shit.

"Yeah mom, it's me." Eddie winced and tried to steady the table.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, it's already so late." She was immediately in the hall, eyes darting around, arms crossed over her chest. Her makeup was smeared and hair disheveled. Even her clothes looked in disarray.

Gross. Eddie didn't want to think about the Harringtons fucking on the couch he took a nap on the other day.

"Worked late," Eddie answered dismissively, wanting desperately to get out of this situation. "Just like dad does."

Eddie tried to take a step around her--if they knew he was home, he might as well grab some water or a pop before he went up to bed. Maybe a beer if he had to think of Steve's parents like that. Mary immediately stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"I was worried," she stated blankly, eyes dead on him now.

"Clearly not, if you thought I wasn't coming home," Eddie snarked, annoyed now that she was making this difficult for him. Here was the bitchy PTA mom Mary Harrington he knew and loved. "I just want to get a snack and go to bed."

"It's late, just go to bed Steven."

"No, I--"

"Now is that really any way to talk to your mother?" a deep voice sounded from behind Mary.

Eddie rolled his eyes, now ready for a fight with Big Papa Harrington--

The thing about the Harringtons was that they looked like something out of a Sears Catalog. Tom was tall with salt-and-pepper hair that coiffed perfectly on his head, bright blue eyes, and a firm, trustworthy voice that always meant business. Mary was a petite brunette with warm hazel eyes, impeccable taste in clothing, and a sweet voice that went shrill when she was upset. And Steve was a good mix of the two; the perfect poster boy for their coveted suburban life.

--only to freeze in surprise when an older man with blond hair stepped out of the living room. His necktie was in his hand, lipstick was smeared across his mouth, and he was shrugging on his suit jacket. The flag pin on his lapel glinted in the hall light, like the unspoken warning in his eyes.

Eddie's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

Steve asked him not to talk to either of his parents very much, to keep their interactions with him short. How he got bitter at even the mention of his parents. The lunches, the calendar, the laundry. The allowance money that she gave him, even though practically everyone knew Steve had been cut off from his dad's wallet. Eddie thought that the allowance money was the secret they were keeping from Tom.

"You can't be mad at me forever, Steve," she had told him the other day.

"It's good to see you again, Steven," he smiled his election-winning smile and put a protective hand on Mary's shoulder. "We were just discussing how the historical society is contributing to the--"

"Larry was just leaving," Mary announced and glared up at Mayor Kline. The Mayor nodded and patted his hand on her shoulder once again before he slunk between them and out the door, Eddie's eyes following him until he was gone.

For all the gruff manner about him, Eddie's uncle Wayne was a bit of a gossip monger. Always had been. He got most of his gossip from the ladies around the trailer park that would offer a cup of coffee in exchange for some handyman repair work that they couldn't do themselves. So Eddie had become quite adept in Hawkins gossip. Rumor around town was that Tom was the one cheating. It was why Mary had the nicest car and the most expensive jewelry. It was why she went on all of his business trips and was treated to lavish weekend getaways.

No one expected that...

"You're cheating on dad," Eddie practically spat at Mary. She heaved a heavy, tired sigh and rolled her eyes a little bit.

"Yes Steven," she agreed. "We've been through this all before. I'm ruining the family, your father is going to be heartbroken, but I don't think I see him here." She waved her arms out and looked around.

"It's past midnight and he's still at the office crunching the numbers," Mary continued. "There are things you just don't understand and you won't until you're grown up and married. But seeing how late you're coming home. Working late. Just like dad.

"So I don't want to hear it from you. I already made you a deal. You got your allowance back. I get to keep my secrets."

She waved her hands dismissively then turned back into the living room, leaving Eddie behind in the hall to process the entire conversation.

He went through the motions as he trudged up the stairs and got ready for bed. As he went to brush his teeth...he stared at his reflection. At Steve's reflection. Stared into tired eyes with purple circles underneath them and a gauntness that hadn't been there earlier.

On top of all the other shit he was feeling...this especially was heavy, and sickening.

Not because Eddie was fond of Mary or Tom or douchebag Mayor Kline.

Not because he was under some illusion that marriages were supposed to be perfect and families were happy.

Not even at his own partial triumph that the perfect Harringtons were truly about as far from perfect as one could get.

But at the realization Steve had to live with the truth that could break up his family.

Steve's visit had you practically floating through the next few days. It was unexpected and so...perfect.

You had gone a few days without seeing him. Not that...you were trying to be clingy or anything. But for the past two weeks he had been consistent in his attention and affection for you...and for it to suddenly stop the day after you tore up your diary and resolved to get over Eddie?

After you told Eddie about your crush in the first place?

It had you in a panic. And, of course, instead of try to communicate and reach out at all, you internalized it and catastrophized.

What if Eddie told Steve? What if Steve hated you now? What if that's why he hadn't called? Or come in with the rest of the guys after their next show?

You thought it all came crashing down when Steve had stopped by and asked you why you went out with him. You thought he was trying to get the truth out of you and for a moment...it felt like the worst thing in the world.

Losing Steve felt like the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

But when he asked again, seeming so lost and insecure. God, it just cut you, because...how could he not see how great he was? Why did he doubt that you liked him?

You relived it after you got home that night. Went over every moment, tried to make sense of it all. Tried to pinpoint anything you had done. And really the only thing you could think of was telling Eddie about your crush.

But...the good definitely outweighed the bad. Your little self-pity and worry over Steve's abandonment of you had vanished and...even now, you were still giggling over him. Over the happiness you felt that you liked him so much, that he liked you back. Liked you enough to worry that you might not like him.

You had to admit that it all felt silly. All of the back-and-forthing, all the doubt. But silliness was good, and it just made the days pass by swiftly. Benny had kept grumbling good-naturedly at your bright smile. He teased you and asked if you needed a quick 5 minute break later and if Steve would be waiting outside for you after close.

Hell, even Lynn's bitterness wouldn't ruin your good mood.

"Alright, Sunshine," she groused at the start of the early dinner rush, just as you came back from your break. "Better hike up that skirt a few inches. Your boyfriend's here, so you gotta look extra cute if you want a good tip. God knows your serving isn't good enough for it."

You felt yourself getting hot from embarrassment; not for Lynn's rude comments but because she said boyfriend, the fact that he was so recognizable now.

God, if Steve was here, Benny would never let you hear the end of it. But how did she know? Steve had work on Wednesdays...

You subconsciously touched your hair and adjusted your uniform before stepping into the dining room. Your eyes swept over the tables, looking for his familiar fluffy head of hair...only to come across another incredibly familiar head.

Your boyfriend. Lynn thought Eddie was your boyfriend.

Eddie's long, curly mane took flight as his head was thrown back, his laughter lost over the din of chattering customers. For a second you assumed he would be there with Jeff or Gareth--hell, he might even be there with Mickey catching up--until you saw the ultra-styled brunette perm that bounced with every motion.

In that moment, you either turned to stone, or you fell into a deep, dark abyss. It was hard to tell. It could have been both. Or neither. But something happened to you and you ceased to exist as you did just seconds before. Benny's little bell in the service hatch sounded flat and distant. The grumpy old man demanding coffee simply melted into the floor. Lynn became a blur in your peripheral vision and phased between tables like a phantom.

And Eddie and Nancy remained in perfect, painful focus.

Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler.

The bell in the window dinged twice and Benny shouted something to Lynn, effectively breaking you from your trance. You wiped your now-clammy hands on your apron and quickly approached the table.

"Hey, how's it going today? Can I get you guys something to drink?" You forced a polite smile onto your face and glanced between them.

This was the closest you'd been to Nancy...possibly ever; she was a year younger than you and aside from your interactions with Steve now, you really never had any business hanging near him when you were still at Hawkins High. She was really pretty. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was cute, and her voice was sweet and soft as she asked for coffee, please. Some dark part of you that made you hate yourself though that she was everything you weren't, and you couldn't blame it because Eddie was looking at her like she hung the stars.

"Eddie, are you gonna order?" Nancy's eyebrows jumped expectantly. "It's busy, I'm sure she has other people to help."

"Oh he's a regular he gets--" you started to defend him but Eddie cut you off.

"Just ice water." He didn't even look at you. "Thanks honey."

Your throat got tight and you shot them both a tight smile with a quick "be right back."

How did she do it? How was she...how did she get everyone? She had a boyfriend right? Unless they broke up. But still...she had Steve hung up on her for God-knows-how-long, and now Eddie was like a lovesick puppy.

Your mind raced as you retreated back to the kitchen and went through the motions of your job. Lynn was terrible about starting a fresh pot and you were relieved that you'd have an extra minute of respite to think before you did something stupid like spill hot coffee in Eddie's lap.

What were they doing here? Was this a date? You thought...you saw textbooks on the table. Were they just doing homework or...did they have class together? You'd offered a study session with Eddie once. Not a date. And it was in the library and not Benny's. Fuck. Was it a date? Fuck. And he never looked at anyone like that, let alone you.

Your movements were jerky and full of emotion. Coffee grounds spattered as you scooped them into the brewer, you slammed Eddie's water glass onto the counter, and by the time you were halfway bent inside the ice maker, taking out your frustrations on frozen water, Benny had enough.

"You need a different weapon to stab that ice kid?" Benny chuckled. You stood straight and faced him with, what you were sure was, a pathetic expression.

"I'm sorry Ben I--"

"You just came back from break," he stated matter-of-factly and crossed his arms over his chest. "What's got you all worked up already? Someone out there harassing you? Need me to kick 'em out?"

"I mean, unless you wanna fire me," you replied tiredly, knowing you were more frustrated with yourself than with Eddie or Nancy.

"Ah," he nodded sagely. "I got it. Yeah, I go 8 rounds with myself sometimes too. Wanna talk?"

Did you want to talk to your boss about silly boy trouble? Trouble that you were trying to work through yourself? Because you were supposed to be getting over your crush on Eddie. You were with Steve...and you just needed to remind yourself of that.

Every time you walked out there and saw them talking. If their heads got too close as he whispered something to her over their homework. On the off chance you looked outside and saw them kissing in the parking lot after they left.

You thought...distance from Eddie would work. But you were friends with practically the same people and he always came into Benny's.

Maybe the answer wasn't trying to push Eddie away? Maybe it was just to get closer to Steve?

You ignored the roiling in your stomach and sighed. Either way this wasn't something Benny could help you with.

"Thanks Ben," you responded weakly. "But it's just...I think I have to work it out myself."

Before Eddie knew it, it was Friday and time for Hellfire.

It was weird now, having Robin know the truth about him and Steve. She was having a hard time adjusting to calling him Steve, knowing he was Eddie. Despite the fact that she had been calling him Steve the whole time.

"I'm just going to call you both Dingus," she reasoned. "That way there's no chance of messing it up."

She actually...had been pretty handy the past few days, trying to find the way for the two of them to switch back. She had checked out a bunch of books from the Hawkins Public Library and brought them to Family Video for them to scour through, had apparently taken to sitting with the Hellfire Club at lunch to prevent Steve from making a fool of himself--fat chance--and grilled both Steve and Eddie on every aspect of one another's lives that might be relevant to their switch. More importantly, the switch back.

"What is selfless love? Is it supposed to be...you doing a selfless act for one another? Because I saw this one test Steve took for you last week. He got a B! And you know he's purposefully having tutoring sessions for you? Must suck for him; he aced O'Donnell's class last year."

She had even been a listening ear after Eddie had found out about Steve's mom, and didn't know the best way to get around to talking to him about it.

It had to be eating Steve up inside...hell, Eddie didn't even like the Harringtons and he felt guilty for not telling Tom that his wife was ruining their family and hurting their son by bribing him to keep it all a secret.

Fuck. Were...were he and Steve friends now?

Eddie normally would have shivered at the thought but...actually it was kind of wholesome...to think that King Steve would slum it with the freaks.

But the line would be drawn if he ever had to admit that Steve was a nice guy. Even if it was the only thing that he had to do to get back into his own body...yeah wasn't happening. Guess he would be Steve Harrington forever.

He was currently waiting at the side entrance to the High School for Steve and the others to get back from picking up snacks for their session.

He actually managed to piece together a semi-decent looking outfit. The last few gigs at the Hideout and Hellfire meetings, he had shown up in Steve's signature polo-and-jeans look. But after digging in a box labeled "donate" at the back of Steve's closet, Eddie found what he was pretty sure was Steve's halloween costume a few years back.

A black t-shirt and some...dark grey blazer that Eddie spent his lunch break adding safety pins too--more punk rock than metal but it would do. Pop those on with some black jeans that he also zhuzh'd up...aka cut holes in...perfect Hellfire look.

He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb at least. Maybe he could ask Steve to bring him an extra shirt next week.

Eddie's van swerved into the parking lot and as soon as it stopped, the back doors swung open and Gareth jumped out with a whoop.

"Harrington, are you ready for carnage tonight?" he shouted at "Steve" and hauled a case of Mountain Dew over his head. The rest of the Hellfire club filtered out and greeted Eddie before helping unload their purchases.

Steve finally joined them and clapped Eddie on the back.

"Glad you could make it, Harrington," Steve winked and looked down at Eddie's clothes. "Slumming it again? What are you wearing?"

"I don't know, Munson," Eddie ran his hands down the front of the blazer. "Just something from the back of the closet."

"The safety pins are pretty cool," Dustin commented with a wink as he and Mike headed in.

Once the guys were inside, Steve hissed in Eddie's ear.

"What did you do to my jacket?"

"Dude you need to stop trusting your mom to buy your clothes," Eddie laughed. "I'm gonna go cross-eyed with all of the stripes."

"You're one to talk," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder your knees aren't permanently frostbitten. All of your jeans have rips in them."

Eddie shook his head. Asshole.

"Heard you're getting help in O'Donnells," Eddie remarked.

"News travels pretty fast," Steve kicked his feet, spraying the guys with gravel. "Which of you idiots blabbed. Gare?"

"Yeah he's been making kissy faces," Dave coughed and cleared his throat. "I mean...yeah he's been getting special tutoring sessions."

Kissy faces?

"From Nancy Wheeler!"

Wheeler?

"Mike doesn't know his ass from his elbow but even he knows you're crushing on his sister," Gareth teased, earning a high five from the others.

"Lay off," Steve preened in front of the others. "We've only had two study dates."

"Two days in a row!" Jeff protested. "That's your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend...yet."

Eddie felt dizzy; what was even happening. Steve was...Steve was dating you, why the hell was he talking about Nancy like...like he was gonna ask her out. Why was he trying to get him to date Nancy?

He grabbed Steve's arm as the other guys headed in.

"Are you...kidding me Harrington?" Eddie hissed. "I don't need a girlfriend, I just need to be back in my body. Jesus H. Christ."

"You don't...listen Eddie, you don't understand," Steve sighed.

"I think I do, you're obsessed with Nancy and you know she isn't gonna get back with you as yourself so you're trying to get her back as me." Eddie punctuated his words by jamming his finger into Steve's chest.

"She likes bad boys," Steve explained with a shrug. Eddie scoffed.

"Jonathan Byers isn't a bad boy. I'm not a bad boy. You're gonna make me look like an even bigger laughing stock than I already am."

"Well it's a good thing that I'm still you then, you get to enjoy life on top," Steve held out his arms. "It's a win-win. I get Nancy, you get not to be an absolute loser."

"Well what about your girlfriend?" Eddie asked. "You asked me to keep her warm. She's a good one. Don't scare her away."

"You can break up with her if that's your problem," Steve said dismissively. Eddie let out a noise of disbelief. "What? Isn't that it? You're tired of going on lame dates? Listen, we're no closer to switching back than we have been. Why can't you just...accept the inevitable."

"So you just...give up?" Eddie asked. "Because...I dunno, it just sounded like you want to be stuck as me for the rest of time as long as you can be delusional about Nancy."

Eddie realized that he was being thebiggest hypocrite right now.

He just didn't care.

Every day he made himself sick with worry that you were going to find out and hate him. Guilted himself over the fact that he had to lie and deceive you. Every day simply got harder, and as much as he reveled in your affections...he knew it wasn't right.

Eddie had gotten them both into this mess because he couldn't build up the courage to own up to his feelings for you...and now Steve was doing the same thing. Who's to say that if Steve--if "Eddie"--had a chance with Nancy, they might never be able to undo this spell at all.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just..." Steve ran a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be easier this way?"

There was a second of silence as Eddie connected the dots.

Maybe he wasn't the only one to blame here either. They were both jealous of each other. Eddie jealous because Steve was dating you. But Steve was jealous...because Eddie lived a supposed carefree life. Right? Wasn't that what Steve had said? And...and did Eddie not just find out how un-carefree Steve's life was?

"I get it now," Eddie muttered. "It isn't...it isn't just about Nancy. It's all of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you're me...then you don't need to worry about keeping mommy and daddy's marriage happy," Eddie explained. "You don't need to...work with Keith. You don't have to worry about living up to expectations when there are none."

"You talked to my mom?" Steve narrowed his eyes, his tone full of betrayal. "What the hell man?"

"I didn't but thanks for the warning man," Eddie scoffed. "Walked in on her and the mayor practically hanging off one another. Ah look at you, see? You look sick to your stomach. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But I bet it's felt good the last few weeks, not having to think about whether or not your dad is gonna find out. That your perfect life is gonna be ruined."

"My life isn't perfect!" Steve exclaimed.

"Neither is mine! If you didn't notice, it's as far from perfect as you can get. Maybe you've just been oblivious to it so far. A few weeks is nothing compared to 20 years man.

"What's gonna happen when the state pen calls on my birthday because dear old dad wants to chat. Or..or when you go to Rick's house to restock your supply and he's having a really bad day. You know how many times I've talked him out of just...ending it? It used to be easier when my mom was around but...guess what Steve? She's dead too.

"My life isn't easy," Eddie concluded. "Isn't perfect. So don't act like everything's easier just cuz you want to get in Nancy Wheeler's pants."

"You don't fucking know what you're talking about," Steve rumbled. "Nancy...shit she's the only person who I've ever loved. Who has ever loved me. Maybe my parents did a long time ago when I was still young enough to be my dad's little buddy and my mom's dress up doll. But not anymore. But Nancy? Nancy got me. She understood me like no one else did."

"What about your friends? What about Robin?"

"What other friends do I have besides Robin?" Steve asked. "They're all gone. They left. Even before graduation."

"And that's what you want now? You want Nancy and my friends too? To help fill your lonely little life?"

"My life is lonely? Please. You're playing a make believe game and wannabe rockstar twice a week with a bunch of kids. All your real friends left you behind too. And I might not know what my future holds but at least I have a future Munson," Steve huffed. "If this spell bullshit hadn't have happened, it isn't hard to guess where you would end up. Still living in that trailer park 20 years from now, fixing toilets, and fucking your fist because who would ever wanna be with someone like you? Who could ever love yo--"

Steve couldn't finish that sentence because Eddie's fist was rocketing into his face. The force of the punch made him fall to the ground.

Eddie felt empowered, filled with righteous anger and self hatred.

There was nothing worse than being faced with the hopelessness of his life, the pointlessness of his future...until those facts came from his own mouth.

"You're on your own Harrington," Eddie shouted as he turned on his heel and walked back to the BMW, not stopping for a second to look back, even as Steve called after him. "You wanna fix my life? You wanna be Eddie Munson? Be Eddie Munson. You don't need my help. Good fucking luck."

“Well here we are, Honey,” Steve announced as he pulled up to the curb in front of your house. “End of the Line. Home Sweet Home.”

It was the perfect date. Again.

Let the record show that Steve was the best at planning dates.

Honestly sometimes...it just seemed too good to be true.

There had been the night when he stopped by Benny's right before closing, and you had that chat outside. Even though you had an early class the next morning, he lured you out to the line of fast food places near the highway on an impromptu date and created ungodly mash ups with different sandwiches.

Or Thursday, he asked if you wanted to have a movie night and you suggested your place since Starcourt was always so packed. He had brought a ton of treats and extra supplies to build a blanket fort in your living room. He stole a few kisses when your hands met in the popcorn bowl. And you had gotten caught making out in the fort by your mom.

Then today--a Saturday of all days--he'd surprised you.

You’d walked outside, running late for your shift, only to find him parked at the curb, leaning against his car with a huge grin on his face. Told you that he had begged Benny to give you the day off to take you for a surprise.

"I have the day off from Family Video," he explained. "Figured I could use a little day out. Thought I could convince you to tag along."

As if a Saturday off wasn't surprising enough in and of itself.

It was honestly like something out of a John Hughes movie.

He had driven you into Indianapolis to go to some outdoor flea market. Played whatever music you wanted on the drive there and back. Got you all the roasted pecans and sweet confections from the vendors at the edge of the market had to offer. Made you fall for him more and more as he talked shop, laughed, and bartered for vintage records and cool sunglasses and a handful of pinback buttons.

"'Get Stoned?'" You laughed and picked out one rather large button.

"Like the Rolling Stones."

"I get it," you laughed. "Just didn't think you were into them enough to get a button."

"Oh...they're the Stones," Steve shrugged. "But, uh, figured...Eddie might be into it."

You really tried not to wince at the mention of Eddie’s name. You smiled and nodded but it just had you thinking back to Eddie and Nancy at Benny's. You knew you had to stop thinking about it...especially in comparison with Steve, and it was getting increasingly more difficult when Steve was the one who brought him up in the first place. Hell, when you stopped at a little drive-in outside of Marion for dinner, Steve even ordered, what you recognized as, Eddie's usual from Benny's.

It honestly threw you for a loop and made you feel a little crazy.

Just weeks ago you would have thought…well you wouldn’t have considered them similar at all.

And now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

You had spilled your heart out to Steve the other night, told him all the things that you liked about him. And it wasn't until you got home from work after seeing Eddie and Nancy together that you realized...a lot of the things you liked about Steve were also things you liked about Eddie.

Sure, Eddie and Steve were hanging out more after all, so they had to have something in common. Maybe hanging around each other brought out the best in one another. The glimpse of Steve you got after that third date…that genuine sweetness…was now only amplified by Eddie’s genuine personality.

Then you had Eddie…his seemingly endless confidence was more of a defense mechanism. Behind closed doors or with your heads leant together over homework he was more vulnerable. Sweeter. But now the confidence had almost made way for cockiness and indifference...which you really had never associated with Eddie before.

So the way he smile and looked at Nancy, the softness he freely gave--

The way you always wanted him to look and smile at you. The way that still devastated you not to be on the receiving end of.

—you rarely saw him show that soft side of himself so freely.

Even if Nancy had a boyfriend…well, it was a hurtful sight to witness and you truly hoped Eddie wouldn’t be hurt if she turned him down.

Huh. Eddie pining after Nancy and Steve being…just a sweetheart. A sweetheart you were falling for. It’s almost like they traded places or something.

You pondered the thought for a second and couldn’t help but laugh at how silly it all was.

“What’s got you laughing?” Steve’s voice broke through your fantastical thoughts and you shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed. “I’m just…just happy.”

Steve smiled that million dollar smile of his--bright and sparkling--and tucked his head into his shoulder a little before glancing back at you.

“Really?” He questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cuz you had a good time?”

“Well yeah, I always have a good time with you.” You shuffled in your seat a little, tugged at the seatbelt and scuffed your feet against the floor mat. “You, uh...you wanna come in?"

"Uh, is your mom home?" He chuckled nervously. "I don't want a repeat of last time."

No. That was mortifying.

"She's actually out with some coworkers. They got some big contract. Some international account blah," you waved your hand dismissively. "Kinda boring but she doesn't get to go out too much. I dunno.

"But uh...if you did want to come in...we could avoid a play by play. If you catch my drift?" You raised your eyebrows seductively and you thought you made the right reference--he was a sports guy after all. But he just looked like a deer in the headlights.

That was just the natural progression of dating right?

You kiss a little or a lot...and then you make out on your couch...and then...so why did he look shocked. You didn't wanna push him...but he was also Steve Harrington. You honestly thought he would have made a move by now.

Some wicked voice in the back of your head piped up.

Maybe the problem wasn't Steve; maybe you were the problem...

"It's ok if you don't want to," you backtracked, suddenly self-conscious. "Because I know you...you probably work tomorrow or something."

"No!" he shouted, the volume of it a little shocking thanks to the close proximity in the car. "Yes that's...no I...we can go in."

You held back a sigh of relief and smiled shakily.

The walk inside was unremarkable, but every second that passed was filled with more anticipation than the one before. Steve teased you for fumbling with your keys, enough that you dropped them, and he gave your butt a little pat. You grabbed him around the middle and waddled him back from your mother's steam-cleaned carpets so he could kick off his shoes, all the while running your hands over his toned chest. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, like a good hostess would, and he simply quirked a brow and said there was only one thing that could quench his thirst.

But before long it was all just a vague blur because he pushed you up against the wall in the front room and eagerly fused his lips to yours.

Steve was always a little noisy, always humming, but his noises became needier the longer you went. His hands gripped your waist and he thumbed the softness there consistently, as though he needed to prove to himself that you were truly safe within his grasp.

He swallowed the giggles that softly escaped you when his fingers found just the right spot.

"Ticklish?" he broke away and pulled just far enough back to grin through those kiss-swollen lips. You whined impatiently in response. "I think I found my lady's weakness...it's ok. Your secret is safe with me."

A voice echoed in your head, soft and sweet. My lady. Gravelly with sleep in the morning before class, accompanied by a bow, as you passed by Hellfire Club on the way to homeroom

No, no, no. Not again. You were here with Steve. Steve. Not Eddie.

"Mmmh, and what about you?" you muttered petulantly, pushing the thought away. He surged forward for another peck but you kept your hand firm on his chest to hold him back. "Isn't it fair I learn your weakness too?"

"I've gotta have some secrets don't I?" He pulled one of your hands away and pressed feather light kisses to each of your fingers, then the back of your hand.

An image was summoned in your mind's eye, the feeling of lips on your hand as you practiced some sort of Shakespearean reenactment for English class.

Eddie needed to get out of your head. Out of your heart.

You batted Steve's hand away, grabbed his face and mashed your lips to his urgently.

There was a build of anticipation; it was frenzied but it didn't feel rushed. Now that you two had a moment alone--truly alone to explore one another without a nosy neighbor or a potentially wandering police officer or a well-intended parent--it was clear that you both wanted this and wanted to savor every minute of it. Memorize every dip, every curve, every plane. Paint the taste of one another on the canvas of each other's tongues.

He tasted like...

Cherry Pie and Cigarettes and Juicy Fruit Gum.

But he didn't chew Juicy fruit. But he did. But he didn't. Steve didn't. Eddie did.

Steve chewed Big Red. He told you so on your first date when you asked for a stick after the bitter taste of coffee lingered in your mouth.

"I only chew Big Red, is that ok?"

But he had chewed gum in the car after you left the diner. He had his pie, he smoked really quick--a habit you vaguely remembered him saying he was quitting--and he had offered you a piece of Juicy Fruit as he turned the key in the ignition.

You compared Eddie and Steve in the car before, chalked it up to them being friends. But now here he was again and it was driving you crazy. You just wanted to fall for Steve in peace. And you were, you really were, but you were also getting sick of Eddie popping up at the most inopportune times.

You pushed Steve away from you and panted heavily.

"You wanna go to my room?" you asked abruptly. Your eyebrows shot upwards expectantly as Steve stared at you with big, dumb eyes and a shocked expression.

"Yes," he nodded eagerly. "Uh, yeah...yes."

Eddie didn’t know how to feel being in your room.

On the one hand…he doubted whether he should really be here. This was everything he had just condemned Steve for. On the other…it really had been the perfect day with you. You quieted the doubt in his mind. All of Steve’s cutting words about…being alone and never knowing love…they didn’t matter when you held his hand and looked him in the eyes and kissed him.

All of the sweet things you said to him the other night flooded his mind and made him feel like he was underwater. Submerged in your love.

If he closed his eyes and imagined the world was perfect, it did feel like love. He could convince himself that you loved him too. 

The minute your bedroom door was closed behind him, you had grabbed Eddie and pushed him onto your bed. The plush comforter cushioned his fall and your pillows had all bounced around him and he chuckled.

He craned his neck to get a look around your room—white walls decorated with some posters and cutouts from magazines here and there, a small desk, a bookshelf that was so full it was more book than shelf. He’d learned so much about you the past few weeks, more than he had over the past few years of knowing you, but this…aside from the fact that you had crawled onto his lap and we’re nipping at his neck…this was the most intimate he would ever get to know you. Not your body. But your soul, your mind, your light.

If this was his last glimpse of you he ever got in his life, he would die happily. He didn’t need to pretend things were perfect to acknowledge that he was in love with you. It was a fact of his existence at this point. And he needed to show you.

“H-honey?” He asked softly. “Stop.”

“You don’t like this?” You laved at the point where his jaw met his neck before sucking a bruising kiss there. His nerves were alight at the sensation and blood rushed south.

“Where did you learn to do that? Hmm?” He asked teasingly as his hand gripped your waist. You pulled back and grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Oh? You’ve got secrets? Well I’ve got a secret too.”

Something akin to worry flashed behind your eyes and he reached up to caress the side of your face.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured. “It’s not bad. Let me show you.”

Eddie pulled your mouth back to his and you fell into him, obviously enjoying the soft attentions of his kiss. From there he eased you onto your back, happy to hover over you and press his body into yours. He grinned as you made a needy little noise.

More? He could give you more; he was planning on it. More importantly, you were eager to have him take.

You were soft and pliant against him, malleable, as his mouth traveled from yours, down your neck, and further down still. His hands antecedent of his descent, they prepared you for what was to come, gave you every opportunity to push him away, though you never would. He grasped your wrists and pressed them to the soft mattress above your head, rucked up your shirt so he could attend to your breasts.

Fingers deftly peeled away the cups of your bra and as he suckled and venerated, he found that the little strumming motion he liked to do when he played with himself was also one that made you whine deliciously;  calloused pads oscillating over supple fullness and hardened peaks.

Eddie abandoned his paltry devotions to continue onwards. He knelt back and quickly began removing your skirt and underwear, cute little things that would serve no purpose if you were to let him proceed.

“Is this ok Honey? You can tell me to stop,” he assured you. You bit your lip and your bliss-filled face became bashful, but you shook your head anyway. “No? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you replied breathily. “Please.”

“I won’t. I’ll give you whatever you want. I promise.”

He ushered you to scoot further up the bed so your head could be cradled by the plush pillows. He couldn’t resist dropping another kiss or two to your lips, to sooth the sting that your teeth were inflicting. Your little needy noises were cute, but you were holding back and he simply couldn’t let that happen. 

“I want to hear you,” he muttered, running his thumb over your lips. “It’s just us. No one will hear. I need to know if I’m doing something you don’t like. Or something you really like. Then I know to do it again next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah…this isn’t some quick romp at a party or outside a concert, sweetheart. I want to make you feel good again.” He pressed a kiss to your lips for emphasis. “And again.” Another kiss to your breast. “And again.” One last kiss against your stomach before he settled himself in the cradle of your thighs, hissing the slightest bit as his hips came in contact with your mattress.

He was throbbing, aching for his own pleasure, eager for a release that he’d been ignoring and denying himself. He shifted and found a little friction, the mattress and his jeans doing just enough to sate him while he took care of another hunger.

Never let it be said that Eddie hadn’t met a pussy that he didn’t think was pretty but you—open for him and wanting--were gorgeous. Tempting. Eddie clicked his tongue as he finally got a good look at you, fluttering with want, dripping with ambrosia.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted more?” He admonished with a smirk, looking up at you with hooded eyes as he settled your leg over his shoulder, nestling in for an extended, more comfortable time. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long.”

“I didn’t…I…” Your excuse was cut off by your combined moans as he latched onto you, immediately finding the swollen button at the top of your sex. He laved back and forth, teasing you until you whined. The taste of you, the smell of you—the earthy sweetness that bloomed on his tongue and settled at the base of his throat—caused his hips to jerk against the bed and he pulled back a little, eager but ready to let you feel good for as long as he could. He rotated his attention between your clit and your lips and your neglected little hole, kissed and nuzzled and lapped up whatever slick you gifted him. 

Eddie moved his hand from where it was caressing your thigh so he could ramp up the fun. You jumped as he caressed your lips, played with the spit and slick.

“Do you touch yourself honey?” You covered your face. “Didn’t I just tell you that I wanted to hear you? So tell me, do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” you threw your hands down and grasped the plush comforter.

“Do you think of me?” You nodded. “I can’t hear you. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you? Do you want more?” He blew a soft breath across your thigh and you shivered.

“P-please, more.”

Eddie slid his fingers over you, watched as you shuddered and twitched, basked in your wanton little noises. With his other hand, he shifted slightly and undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, pushing them down just so, so he could rock against the bed, seeking more physical relief. He dove back in with kisses and licks and nips, getting adventurous as he slid a finger into you. You stiffened up for just a moment before he took you to higher heights. 

"Uuhnnnhhh, yes," you moaned breathily. Beautifully. "Right there. Yes!"

The tightness was luxurious and his head spun, imagining what the rest of the night might bring. He could feel you panting, getting closer and closer to your peak. He would get you there. Gladly. Again and again. Over and over until you couldn’t take any more.

“Please!”

“What do you want, honey?”

“Please I’ve—“

“You wanna cum sweetheart.” He grinned against you. “I’ll get you there but you have to beg. Come on.”

"P-please S-Steve!"

Eddie froze.

His ears started ringing. His entire body was numb. He couldn’t…couldn’t breathe. It all came flooding back, the realization, the hatred, the resentment. The want to be with you and the fact that he couldn't.

"W-what's wrong?!" you stammered and pushed yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of him. "What happened?"

Eddie couldn't answer. He could barely look at you.

He pushed your leg off his shoulder, and as he did he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror beside the bed—

The freckled skin, the fluffy hair, the rumpled polo, the hazel eyes staring back at him smugly.

--he couldn't even look at himself.

“Please, talk to me. What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"I just...I..." he choked at the sound of his voice. But not his voice.

He shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He ran a hand over his face and ignored the questions that came out of you. He quickly yanked up his jeans and barely fastened them. He ignored the belt.

He quickly turned on his heel and ran out of your room. He jammed his feet into his shoes and fumbled with the jacket he had hung on the coat hook by the door to get his keys. 

Not his keys. 

Steve’s keys. Steve’s car, Steve’s body, Steve’s life, Steve’s love.

Not his.

He let the jacket fall to the floor, abandoned, as he quickly made his escape.

All the while you called and ran after him.

"Steve?! Wait! Steve!!"

Tag List is currently suspended.

Freaky Friday Chapter 5 will be uploaded by Sunday, May 21st at 7pm CST.

#freaky friday au #Eddie Munson x reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson smut #Steve Harrington angst #Eddie Munson fluff #Steve Harrington fluff #stranger things fic #eddie munson headcanons

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Hidden Feelings

Summary; The Hellfire Club does not like Eddie's girlfriend Alice one bit, she's bitchy, and rude and Eddie always seems miserable. They think he deserves better.

Y/n is new to Hellfire and in love with Eddie but knows he's off-limits so keeps quiet.

Dustin just wants his two friends to be happy but it's all just hopeless... Right?

Warnings; angst, Alice is a bitch, miscommunication, manipulation tactics (Alice) swearing, mutual pining, angst to fluff. AU ❤

Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome ❤ I do not give anyone permission to copy my work 💫💞

❤💫

They could hear Alice and Eddie fighting from where they were seated. It was so loud it reverberated off the walls.

Y/n winces as Eddie storms in slamming the door irritation clouding his features and he joins them.

"Sorry, I'm late". He murmurs and as the campaign starts he isn't his usual exuberant and dramatic self which worries her.

Dustin exchanges look with Gareth and her and she walks over to Eddie when he calls for a quick break and gently touches his arm.

His beautiful brown eyes meet hers and her belly fills with butterflies.

"Are you okay Eds?". He softens and nods planting a smile on his features, all dimples.

"I'm fine sweetheart, are you ready for movie night? Harrington let me pick the movie. Get ready for Nightmare on Elm street".

Jeff shakes his head before she can answer Eddie back.

"You're fine? You've been late for the last two meetings man, every time I see you, you're fucking miserable because of Alice".

Eddie avoids the group's stares and swallows.

"Just drop it alright dude, I've had Alice in my ear all day. Don't need to hear shit here too".

Dustin bites his lip and nudges her to say something. The only trouble is that shes head over heels in love with Eddie and anything she does say would not be nice about Alice one bit.

Alice didn't deserve Eddie, she was always getting down on him, keeping that beautiful smile from his face.

Dustin, Robin and Steve constantly encourage her to tell Eddie how she feels but she can't.

Yeah, Alice is a bitch but she's still Eddie's girlfriend and that makes him off limits. He doesn't feel the same and she needs to accept that.

No matter how much it hurt.

The campaign continues but there's tension in the air and she hates it. Ever since Eddie started dating Alice a month ago all she's done is cause tension.

Once the game is completed she helps Eddie clear up with Dustin, Lucas and Mike.

"Do you think I should dump Alice?". Eddie asks her and she freezes because she desperately wishes to say yes but stops herself.

"It's really up to you Eddie, not to me or any of the guys. Only you".

He's silent for a moment and plays with the rings on his fingers, he's stressed she can tell and she places her hand on his to calm him.

Something crackles in the air when their skin makes contact. It's heady and intoxicating but she resists the desire to move closer.

Eddie stares at her for a loaded moment.

"I'm not the good guy in this situation at all y/n, I was in love with someone when I got together with Alice".

She looks up at him shocked then immediately knows who it will be. Chrissy Cunningham, according to Gareth back in middle school Eddie had a massive crush on her so maybe those feelings have returned.

"I mean yeah that's a bit messy Eds but she treats you like utter shit, she's mean to everyone here all the time and I hate how she yells at you all the time. You deserve better". It just slips out and she cringes.

Before Eddie can reply the boys join them excited for movie night.

💞💫💞💫

Alice hated her. She made that known from the minute they met and never let her and Eddie be alone for even a second.

At lunch, she sat beside Eddie which was usually Dustin's seat but Alice wouldn't budge from Eddie's side.

"Oh, y/n I was just wondering if you and Steve were a couple. You're both single aren't you?". She frowns shaking her head.

"We're both single yeah but we're just friends". Alice bats her eyes and giggles.

"Silly me. Why not date him though? Steve is very handsome". Alice asks confused.

"Yeah but I just don't feel that way about him". She watches Alice's eyes light up and it makes her uneasy.

"But you're in love with someone?". When she doesn't answer Alice smirks,

"Oh my god, you are? Who is it? Do we know them, surely you can say?"

What is she playing at? There's something like glee in Alice's eyes and she realises that is a game.

Alice knows how she feels about Eddie and is toying with her, knowing she won't say anything about it.

"Leave her alone Alice". Eddie snaps and the temperature plummets as Alice turns an icy glare onto him.

The bell ringing is her saviour because she is so close to snapping herself and gets up hurrying away quickly.

"Y/n, wait". Eddie catches up with her and she offers him a small smile. " Jesus H Christ, I'm sorry about that sweetheart".

She shrugs. She's used to Alice being a bitch to her.

"It's okay". He's quiet for a second looking like he desperately wants to say something but is conflicted.

"Are you in love with someone?". He eventually inquires and she feels flustered.

"Eddie, it doesn't matter". God, please don't ask anymore she begs silently.

"You are? He guesses correctly. Who's the lucky guy?". Something in his tone makes her pause, she can't put her finger on what is though.

"It doesn't matter, he doesn't feel the same way Eds". She's quick to say and hopes the conversation is done because if he guessed how she felt she would be mortified.

"Then he's an idiot". He murmurs and walks away, she watches him go longing to say how she feels.

💖💫

She's sick the next couple of days and spends most of it cuddled up in bed. Eddie, Robin and Steve join her for movies and popcorn which is very sweet because she naps through most of it.

Mostly they just keep her spirits up.

Eddie seems lighter than he has in ages but the sickness takes it out of her before she can ask what happened.

She figures she will find out what's going on when she goes back to school on Thursday as there is an extra Hellfire session this week.

So she just relaxes with the three of them unaware of the shit storm on it's way.

💫💖

Nancy keeps her busy at lunch working for the school newspaper so she doesn't see any of Hellfire or find out why Eddie is in such a good mood.

Alice seems to be extra pissed today and directs most of the ire her way for some reason and corners her after school as she is just about to head to Hellfire.

"We need to talk". Alice grabs onto her arm and she scowls.

"Get off me!". She pulls free of Alice's grip and glares at her.

"You think I don't know how you feel about Eddie you sneaky little bitch! I bet you were quick to poison his ear about me". Alice is inches away from her face and seething.

"What the fuck are you talking about? No, I haven't but yeah Eddie deserves better than you".

Alice laughs. "And you think that's you? You're pathetic babe. You and all that Hellfire shit".

Furious she decides to walk away before she does something she regrets, like slap the smirk of that bitches face but she's not a violent person so she tries to reign her temper in. Alice follows her.

"You think I don't know what those Hellfire freaks think. They don't like me? Tough shit. Alice hisses, I told Eddie all about your crush and he wants you out of the group, he's disgusted by it but just too nice to tell you himself".

She stops walking. Her heart beats fast, anxiety filling her.

Eddie knows how she feels and now she's humiliated but something irks her.

"No, he's the head of the group, he'd tell me himself". She's certain of that but falters under Alice's sneer.

"That's what you think. Hand in your Hellfire shirt tonight and leave Eddie alone. I don't know why you ever thought Eddie would want you". She snorts then leaves.

Y/n wrenches the shirt off trying very hard not to cry and heads into the auditorium where Eddie and the rest of Hellfire are setting up.

"Omg, you'll never believe what happened... y/n?". Dustin asks excited features slowly turning confused at her tears but she focuses on Eddie and drops the shirt on the table. He takes it looking at her puzzled.

"Sweetheart?" Alice walks in looking smug.

"Alice told me everything, that you want me out of the group? Do you think I wanted to fall in love with you knowing you don't feel the same way and never will?".

Eddie grips the shirt and looks at her in wonder.

"You love me?". Tears roll down her cheeks and Alice giggles.

"I told her how you felt Eds that you are so disgusted by her being in love with you and were too scared to kick her out of the group because you don't feel the same".

Eddie gapes and moves to hold her.

"No sweetheart". She backs away from him and Dustin swivels around to Alice.

"You bitch". Y/n doesn't understand what's going on she just wants to leave and runs out the door missing the way the auditorium erupts in a whole lot of shouting.

💫💞💫💞

Max won't let her miss movie night so Steve picks her up with Robin while she sits quietly heart still aching from what transpired yesterday.

Since it's Hellfire night and that can run on she comforts herself that she can avoid Eddie even though she's really missing him.

As they head inside Family Video Steve hugs her tightly.

"Go to the store room there are some new movies in. Pick whatever you like". She thanks him and kisses his cheek.

As she enters the back room and clicks on the light Dustin is there and Eddie. What the hell?

"This is for your own good" Dustin yells at her and locks the door behind him.

"You little shit". She yells and turns back to Eddie sighing.

"Sweetheart will you please let me explain myself. What Alice said was a pack of lies. I dumped her on Monday".

This stops her in her tracks. He dumped her?

"What? You did?". He nods.

"When you were off sick, I've been growing more and more tired of her shit. She was ragging on you and Hellfire and I lost it, she made me so fucking miserable, I had enough".

She listens intently and he gently cups her cheek.

"Remember, when I said to you how I was in love with someone when I got together with Alice? I never stopped. Wouldn't have mattered if Alice was the perfect girl and not a fucking nightmare. Could never get the girl I loved out of my head".

He smiles warmly and she feels hope for the first time in a while that her feelings aren't so one sided after all.

"I told Alice we weren't working and could never work because I'm in love with you and I was sick of hiding It from you. I never thought you'd feel the same way princess but then you told me you did and I was so happy but Alice had told you all of those lies".

She leans into him and he kisses her hair.

"So you had no idea how I felt?". She asks him and he shakes his head.

"Not until you said, I'm sorry baby. I should have just told you how I felt but I thought that you liked Harrington so I tried to move on, Alice guessed how I felt and told me I'd have no chance".

She swears.

"I love you, Eddie, I'm so in love with you but I never said it because I didn't think you felt the same way. Then you started dating Alice and I thought I lost my chance".

He closes his eyes beaming happily.

When he opens them, they are so full of love that she feels like an idiot that she never noticed before and kisses him.

"We are both idiots". He chuckles warmly and she nods through happy tears.

"Yes, we are".

Dustin shouts asking if they have sorted things out and opens the door when they both shout yes.

Eddie ruffles Dustin's hair and they join movie night hand in hand.

❤

The Hellfire Boys seem delighted that she and Eddie are together, they are both so much happier now they don't have to hide how in love they both are.

Alice also thankfully doesn't bother them again either and they finally get their happy ending.

❤💫❤💫

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyyyy Steddie thinky thought time again! And I’m putting it under a cut because, YET AGAIN, my hand slipped and I accidentally almost 2,000 words.

Tags: ANGST, miscommunication, HOH!Steve, Mean-and-Overly-Defensive!Eddie

So picture this, if you will…

High school AU. Probably no Upside-Down. Steve is deaf/HOH. He signs, but he knows that not everyone else does, and so few take the time to learn, especially not for him, so he usually carries around a notepad too. Just in case. Someone (probably Dustin, lbr) asks him to sit in on a Hellfire meeting. Heck, maybe even asks him to join. Steve is unsure, but he’s open to new experiences and Dustin always makes his favorite club sound really awesome (also the guy who runs the club is super cool and hot too, but shhhhhh). So sure - he’ll check it out.

The day comes and Steve gets there early. Like really early. In fact, he’s there before anyone else. Which is fine; he can use the extra free time to do a little homework, right? Thing is though, he’s so focused on his notebook that he doesn’t notice somebody else come in - Eddie. And there are four important things to note about Eddie.

He doesn’t know Steve is deaf.

He doesn’t know that Steve has been explicitly invited here by Dustin.

He knows Steve only by his reputation. So, not good.

He’s as protective of his club and the kids in it as a mama bear.

Needless to say, these four factors combine into a perfect storm, and Eddie is immediately on the offensive.

“Hey!” He says. “Hey, Harrington!” He continues when he gets no acknowledgement. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

No answer. Steve doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps writing in his notebook.

“Hey asshole! I’m talking to you!” Eddie’s volume is rising, as is his temper. Despite his uncle’s best efforts, Eddie’s never been the best at keeping cool. But, man, the disrespect. It tends to eat at him. And coming from King Steve of all people? Oooooooh doesn’t that just make his blood boil. Eddie stalks over to where Steve is sitting. If he thinks he’s gonna waltz in there and tease or humiliate any of Eddie’s little sheepies, he’s got another thing coming.

Steve, meanwhile, is just happily doing his homework. Maybe doodling a little in the margins. Wondering if Eddie looks as cool running the club as he does around school. Especially when he’s up on the lunch tables ranting about conformity. He’s so lost in thought that a sudden hand on his arm shocks him out of his chair, up to his feet. And just like that, he’s face to face with his secret crush, the one and only Eddie Munson. He smiles, but only for a moment as he sees Eddie’s furious expression. The other boy’s lips are moving. A little fast, but Steve does his best to read them.

“-hell are you doing here, Harrington? This isn’t one of your stupid jock sports teams. If you’re here to hurt these kids-“

Steve’s eyes widen. He tries to sign something. No, no.

Eddie sees Steve looking scared, waving his hands. It only serves to make him angrier. Steve sees he’s getting nowhere with sign, so he grabs his notepad and starts writing. He can still see Eddie saying something in his periphery, and he tries to write fast. To clear up any misunderstanding.

But then. Eddie goes too far. He manages to hit on one of Steve’s biggest insecurities mid-rant. And then he keeps digging at it. Steve stops writing and just… stares. Like a dog, Eddie cannot let go of the bone he’s found, so he keeps going. Insert any list of your favorite Steve insecurities here. His upbringing. His (bad) relationship with his parents. His reputation (which Steve hates so much). His intelligence. His fighting skills or lack thereof (poor Steve: getting beat up in every universe). And the worst part is how mean Eddie is about it. The kids tease Steve too, and yeah sometimes it hurts, but it’s never felt as outright cruel as it does when Eddie says it.

Steve’s eyes fill with tears, despite his best efforts, and while Eddie is mid sentence, Steve decides he’s had enough. He shoves his notepad at Eddie, into his chest, eliciting a surprised huffed exhale, before grabbing his bag and just running. He runs out the door, out of the building, to his car, and drives himself home. He doesn’t stop crying for hours.

Eddie, after the surprise of Steve shoving him and running out, just rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he mutters under his breath. “Fucking prick.”

He looks down at the notepad in his hands, still mad but also curious as to what Steve had thought was so important that he just had to start scribbling it down while Eddie yelled at him. And…

Not here to hurt, I swear. Dustin invited me. He’s like my little brother. I’m deaf - sorry couldn’t hear you talking. I’ve seen you around, and I think you’re pretty cool. I’ve never played DND before, but Dustin really loves it. Maybe I could-

That’s as far as it went. And man. Imagine the feeling of your heart sinking, dropping down past your stomach, through the ground itself before finally coming to a stop in the molten core of the earth. Imagine that, and you may experience a fraction of the almost instantaneous levels of guilt Eddie feels at that moment. All at once he thinks of how Steve had looked at him after he first got his attention. He had smiled. Fucking grinned. He was happy to see him. Happy to be there. Eager to see what Hellfire was all about. Eager to learn.

And Eddie had just taken that happiness, that earnest interest, and stomped on it. Crushed it utterly beneath his sneakers as if it were a cigarette butt.

The other guys start filing in. Including Dustin. But before he can say anything (maybe to ask where Steve is, and why the hell does Eddie have his notepad), Eddie shoves past them out the door.

“Eddie, what-“ Jeff starts.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he quickly makes his way outside. Just in time to see Steve’s car speeding out of the parking lot. He curses, loud enough that a few students still milling about jump at the unexpected noise. Eddie doesn’t care. He messed up. He really fucking messed up, didn’t he?

He makes it up to Steve eventually. It takes time, of course; Steve’s trust is a hard thing to earn even on a good day, but after that first encounter? They’re not just starting at zero; they’re practically starting at -1000. He starts small. Little exchanges here and there. Usually with Dustin (or, occasionally, Steve’s best friend Robin, who looks at Eddie like she would flay him alive if Steve gave her the word) acting as a sort of buffer. It takes almost half a dozen of these group encounters before Steve says (writes) a single word to him, and even then it’s perfunctory. Cold. Simple. And it definitely hurts, just a little, especially since Eddie’s crush that he’s had on Steve since freshman year has been steadily growing with every exchange they have. As monosyllabic (if even syllabic at all) as they tend to be on Steve’s part. But every time he feels that hurt, Eddie thinks of how Steve had looked at him when he left the club that day. How sad and angry and frustrated. And he pushes his own (tiny, inconsequential by comparison) hurt aside. I can do more, he thinks.

One day, he manages to corner Steve on his own, without Dustin or Robin. Steve is annoyed - he still gets that sinking feeling of hurt whenever he’s with Eddie (which is enhanced (terribly so) by the stupid crush he has), and immediately pulls out his notepad. Starts writing on it. Something simple and to the point. Leave Me Alone. Or maybe Go Away. He gets as far as the first word before he realizes that Eddie isn’t talking. Not aloud, anyway. No, he’s signing. A bit clumsily, and a few of the words are wrong but close enough to understand. One sign is chief among them, though.

I’m sorry.

And in that moment, maybe, it hits home for Steve that Eddie really means it. Means it enough to try and learn an entirely new language to meet Steve where he is. He looks in Eddie’s eyes and he can see the guilt and shame swimming there. The hurt is still in him, that’s not going away with one apology (though this isn’t the first one Eddie has given him, of course), but still. Steve scratches out what he had been writing in favor of something else. After a second, he hands Eddie the paper.

I can’t forgive you. Not yet. You really hurt me. But thank you. When did you start learning to sign?

He sees Eddie’s eyes get a little watery as he reads, but then he’s handed back the notepad. He had thought that Eddie might take the easier route and just write it down, but no. Instead, with his hands free, Eddie continues signing.

A couple days ago. Stayed up all night. His cheeks were darkening. Blushing in shame at his rudimentary skills. Bad at it. Sorry.

And maybe it’s just because Eddie is one of only a handful of people Steve has met that have taken it upon themselves to learn sign, or maybe it’s that damn crush he can’t seem to lose, but Steve shakes his head. No, he signs, trying to keep it simple. Good.

Eddie looks away, signing Bad again. Steve touches his hand, the first point of actual physical contact they’ve had since that day at the Hellfire Club. Their eyes meet, and Steve signs, with as much emphasis as he can, GOOD. And then, Thank You.

Eddie looks down, suddenly feeling oddly shy. He’s still blushing but he also can’t help but smile. There’s the ghost of a dimple on his cheek, making Steve’s heart give a weak little flutter.

You’re welcome, Eddie signs.

After a long moment, Steve writes something down. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Eddie with signs yet. Not to mention that he doesn’t know how deep his (apparently only days-old) knowledge base goes. Best to go easy on him.

Maybe we could… start over?

He holds it up for Eddie to read, face a picture of inquisitive hope. The other boy nods, starts trying to sign, but gets frustrated rather quickly before holding out his hand for the notepad. Steve chuckles and hands it over, not missing the way Eddie’s blush deepens even further at the sound he probably made. Maybe his crush isn’t as one-sided as he’d been thinking.

Yes! Absolutely! If we are, then consider this your “first” official invitation to the Hellfire Club. Today, after school. (There’s a “I” here but it’s scribbled out) We would love to have you there.

I’ll be there, Steve writes. And, after Eddie reads it, he makes sure to get the other boy’s attention before he slowly signs the same thing. I’ll be there.

#stranger things #Steddie #my stuff #writing is hard #rooster’s thinky thoughts #deaf steve harrington #mean eddie munson #miscommunication #angst #and then they fell in love? #yup #they definitely did #lol