Richie: Can I Be Your Sidekick?! Beverly: Yeah!! Bev And Rich: *high Five* Totally Would Happen Don't

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FIR TAGGING G ME YOU MAD MY DAY WITH THAT AHHHHH let me tell you this toy melted my heart Sry I didn't say something sooner about it but I mean WOW heart warming 101 Love it Shanny thanks a bunch ♥️💛💛💚💙💜💗🍆

Imagine Joyce and Jonathan’s reaction to Will and Dustin dating! Obviously they would be so supportive, I wonder will WILL be nervous? I mean they already know Dustin he just has to introduce him as his boyfriend, easy right?

Unpredictably Unplanned

Part 2 of 2

Part 1

Pairing: Will Byers and Dustin Henderson

Summary: Will Byers deals with the unpredictability of coming out and being in a relationship

Located on Archive of Our Own

By now Will and Dustin had been dating for half a year. Dustin’s mother found out they were boyfriends because she walked in on them making out. Fortunately, she loved her son more than anything (except maybe their cat) so as long as he was happy she was too. She also loved Will and thought he was the cutest person Dustin could possibly date. She even called him “Willy”, which Dustin assured Will there was no higher compliment.

They discussed many times when Will should tell his own mother. Usually, he would have a confident week and say he’d do it over the weekend, then chicken out. Dustin was always good about not pushing the subject but he was clearly starting to feel self-conscious about it. Ten weekends of Will saying he was going to tell his mother and then not going through with it would upset anyone.

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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

TELL ME THIS IS LIFE

Omg this is the best you NEED to make this a fan fiction PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU anyway love your work you da best ♥♥️♥♥️

Take My Hand and Drag Me Headfirst

Summary: Eddie and Richie talk about the future and dance in the rain.

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak x Richie Tozier

Rating: G

Word count: 1,787 words 

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Look, idk what this is either, ok. It’s literally fluff with a sorry excuse for a plot. It’s a mess. And no, I haven’t forgotten about the prompts in my inbox. This has been sitting in my Google Docs since mid-March and I finally got around to posting it. Enjoy.

ao3 link

Eddie leaned against his boyfriend’s chest, who wrapped his left hand around his waist, his right one flicking a cigarette. They were sitting on the hood of Richie’s truck, which was parked on the edge of hill looking over Derry. It was mid October, the sky was overcast with dark clouds, and the city lights somehow stood out prominently despite the haze. All in all, it was a beautiful sight.

Eddie sighed softly. “Derry doesn’t seem so dangerous from up here.”

Richie took a long drag of his cigarette. Eddie would normally complain about the cancer sticks, but right now he found the smell comforting. He found everything about Richie comforting.

“It seems so peaceful,” he continued, “Not like the kind of place that’s home to…”

“Ignorant assholes who can’t accept people for who they are?” Richie supplied, tossing the butt of the cigarette onto the ground.

“You should put it out before you throw it away, it could set the grass on fire,” Eddie chastised, “and I was going to say ‘home to a child-eating demonic clown’, but I guess that works too.”

Richie buried his nose in his hair. “At least the clown leaves us alone for 27 years. We’ve got to deal with those fuckwads on a daily basis.”

Eddie played with Richie’s slim fingers. “We’ll make it through. We’ve got each other. And the Losers.”

“We do. But I’m getting out of here once I’m eighteen. This town can kiss my ass goodbye.”

Richie always spoke about leaving. Every time he’d have a nightmare, or his parents would just become too much to handle, and he’d crawl through Eddie’s bedroom window, they’d spend the night lying next to each other on his too small twin bed, shoulders brushing, talking about the future. Richie was clear about his plans. He was going to leave Derry and head to California, become a household name with his Voices and make his mark in the history of show business. Eddie, on the other hand had no idea what he wanted to do, or where he was going to go. Whenever he tried to pictures his life ten years from now, it turned up blank. For some reason, no matter how much he hated her, he didn’t want to leave his mother. He didn’t want to leave his friends. He didn’t want to leave Richie. He didn’t want to leave Derry.

Well, he did want to leave Derry, maybe move to a place more accepting, but he didn’t want to leave the comfort, the familiarity.

“What about you, Spaghetti Man?”

Eddie huffed. “Don’t call me that, Rich. And… I don’t know. I’ll leave too, I guess.”

Richie saw right through his lie, he always did. He nuzzled his nose into his cheek and left a soft kiss there. “What’s wrong, love?”

Eddie sank further into his arms. “I’m just… I’m scared, Richie. I don’t want to forget, you know? Bev was gone for barely a year and she couldn’t even remember all our names. What if once we’re gone we start forgetting? I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose the memories, the comfort, the familiarity. I don’t want to lose the Losers. I don’t want to lose you.”

Richie tightened his grip around his waist. “You’re not going to lose me, Eddie. I promise you that.”

He turned to look at his boyfriend. Even in the dim moonlight, he found nothing but pure conviction and sincerity in his chocolate eyes. “You really believe that?”

“ ‘Course I do. How can I forget a cute ass like yours?” He grinned and cupped his butt with one hand.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “There you go, ruining the moment.”

“We were having a moment?” He looked genuinely lost.

“Yes we were, dipshit. I basically told you how you’re the most important person in the world to me, and you commented on my butt. I’m not surprised though, you’re pretty predictable.”

Richie ran his thumb across his cheek and smiled fondly. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, too, Eds. I fucking love you. Even amnesia won’t make me forget you, you can count on that.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It was more gentle but just as heartfelt as all the kisses they’d shared in the three months they’d been together.

Eddie grabbed his jacket and pulled him in to deepen the kiss, but was interrupted by heavy drops of rain falling on his head all of a sudden. He quickly scrambled off Richie’s lap and got into the car before he got drenched. Richie laughed loudly and slowly slid off the hood. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the backseat. He leaned on his elbows on the door and grinned at Eddie.

“What the fuck are you doing, Richie? Don’t stand out in the rain, you catch a cold and fall sick.”

He batted his eyelashes seductively. “And you can nurse me back to health, Dr. K.”

Eddie frowned. “Hell no. I’m not coming anywhere near that mouth for a week at the least.”

Richie pouted. “Why you gotta hurt me like this, baby?”

His cheeks turned bright red, Richie knew exactly how flustered that pet name made him. “Shut up and get inside, Rich, you’re getting drenched.”

Richie wiggled his eyebrows. “Oooh, but you like getting me wet, don’t ya, Spaghetti Head?”

Eddie looked over at him. His wet curls were sticking to his forehead and his shirt was clinging to his torso, showing off his muscle definition (or lack thereof). His glasses were covered in droplets, and Eddie had no idea if he could see anything through them.

“You look like a cartoon. Take your glasses off, dweeb.”

Richie took them off and chucked them into the glove compartment. He squinted at Eddie. “So are you going to join me or nah?”

“Nu-uh, you can destroy your health on your own, thank you very much.”

“It’ll be a fever at worst, Eddie, don’t be dramatic.”

“Have you ever heard of acid rain? It destroys marble, imagine what it can do to your skin! Not to mention it can enter your system and poison you.”

“That’s bullshit, Eds. How is it going to enter my system anyway? It’s not like I’m drinking it.”

He drowned out Eddie’s response by turning up the radio. Some 50s song was playing. Richie stuck his hand out. “Dance with me Eds!”

“Don’t call me that! And absolutely not. There’s no way I’m going to fall sick. My mom will have an aneurysm.”

“Fuck your mom, Eddie!” Richie paused to reassess his words. “Well, not literally, that’s my job. What I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. Just let go once in a while.”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but clamped it shut as the song changed. Whitney Houston’s voice rang out into the night. Fuck it, he thought, and grabbed Richie’s hand. Even if he didn’t go out, Richie would pass the cold to him, and he’d fall sick anyway.

As soon as he left the car, he was hit a thousand raindrops. Within seconds, he was shivering. “This was a terrible idea.”

Richie chuckled and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. “Don’t worry, bug, I’ll keep you warm with my extreme hotness.”

“Oh boy, I’m so hot right now,” Eddie deadpanned. “You said you wanted to dance?”

Richie grabbed his hands and dragged him to a clearing a few feet away. He spun him around to the beats of the song. Eddie tried to act like he wasn’t enjoying it, but the broad smile on his face gave him away. Richie was a terrible dancer, he stumbled over his own limbs, and the rain made him even more unsteady.

The song changed to Dancing Queen, and Eddie could barely contain his squeal. “I love this song!”

Richie laughed. “I know you do, Eds! C’mon, show me your moves, Dancing Queen!”

Eddie moved and jumped around, shouting the lyrics on the top of his lungs, so glad nobody could hear them out there. “YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!”

Richie picked him up and spun him around in his arms. Eddie laughed loudly and clutched his shoulders. “Put me down, Richie!”

Richie shook his head and clutched his thighs. Eddie kicked the air in an effort to get his boyfriend to let go, but he only tightened his grip.

“Don’t make me drop you, Eds, cause I will!”

Eddie huffed and gave up. Slowly, Richie set him down and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“I meant it, Eds.”

“What?”

“I’m never going to forget you. It’s not going to happen.”

Eddie grabbed his face and stroked his cheek. He was so in love with the boy in front of him. “I won’t forget you either. You’re my everything.”

He stood on his toes and planted a soft, firm kiss on his lips. Their mouths fit together like puzzle pieces. They were meant to be, nothing would ever change that.

Richie ran his thumb over his lower lip, coaxing it open, and sliding his tongue inside. Their mouths moved together in perfect unison. There, in that moment, in the rain, on a cliff overlooking the town of Derry, they were one.

They continued making out in the rain with the radio playing in the background, forgetting about everything else in the world.

They broke apart for air, resting their foreheads together.

“Come with me,” whispered Richie.

“What?”

“Come with me to Cali. When we’re old enough. I want you to.”

Suddenly, that blank space started to form an image. He could picture his life ten years from now. It involved a young man with wild, curly black hair, warm eyes and freckles, pale skin and plump pink lips. It involves a closet full of pastel polo t-shirts and ridiculous Hawaiian print shirts, with the occasional neon windbreaker. It involved The Cure playing in the kitchen as they made breakfast together. It involved falling in Richie’s lanky arms every night and waking up to his kisses every morning. It involved comfort and familiarity, but above all, it involved love and happiness, and Eddie didn’t want anything else.

“Okay.”

Eddie didn’t know what the future held for him. In some hours he could be sick, in some weeks he could be exhausted, in some months he could be graduating, and in some years he could be fighting a demonic clown. He didn’t know what would happen. But he did know this. No matter what the future held for him, Richie Tozier would be a part of it. For better or for worse.

perma tags: @megelizabethvh @its-stranger-than-you-think @fuckboyrichie

If anyone wants to be on my perma taglist, please send me an ask.

richie, on stage: so i know you guys are here to listen to my mediocre stand-up routine, but i think i've told enough shitty jokes for now that i can move on to something that's definitely gonna be way funnier

richie: [now pulling out his phone] you know those videos where celebrities read mean tweets? and the ones where they read thirst tweets? well, i'm gonna do both of those for you tonight, only they're just tweets from my husband's "secret" twitter account that he thinks i don't know about, like he actually knows how to work a computer after not using the internet for 20 years and understands how to clear search history, log out of an account, or open an incognito tab

richie: i forgive him for these tweets. reason being he made 50% of them wine drunk and 50% of them after i fucked him so good that he couldn't form proper sentences for 2 hours. i love you, eds-baby

richie, clearing his throat: "richie w. tozier-" i like the use of my middle initial. very formal. "-is the ugliest bitch i have ever seen. i hate how big and hairy he is and how pretty his eyes are. i hope he dies"

richie: "if you think richie tozier is funny you have major brain damage. i do too but mine is sexy"

richie: "sometimes richie grabs a glass from the top shelf and his arm looks big strong and i don't"

richie: that's the end of that tweet. there is no further elaboration than "i don't." not sure what he doesn't

richie: "i don't fucking get memes until i look them up. richie called me submissive and breedable and i had to call three friends until one explained it to me. tough talk for someone in dick-sucking distance. are you gonna dom and breed me then, bitch?? i'm fucking waiting. coward"

richie: i think the funniest part of these tweets is that eddie thinks people don't know this is him, like i don't only exclusively talk about how much i love my feral little twink of a husband. i'll read you guys one more as a send off

richie: "richie went all the way back to our shithole hometown to buy me my favorite ice cream for our anniversary. i love him and that's sweet, but apparently i never told him i genuinely hate this flavor of ice cream. i only ever ate it because i didn't have money to buy another flavor after he bought me this one and i thought it would be a waste to NOT lick it as suggestively as possible to try and give him a boner"

(goes through an extended magical girl transformation, by the end of which I look the exact same, except I immediately shoot you with my perfectly normal gun that wasn’t there before)

I can't with the world anymore. HIS FACE IS KILLING ME

Warning. This is a penis costume

me and my bestie do this so much

reblog if you’re a byler shipper thag actually believe that byler is canon and actually believe mike will drop eleven for wills bowl cut havin ass