Steve's bi-realisation coming from watching gangly limbed Eddie Munson running track for PE credit and those Hawkins High Shorts ™️ showing off so so much leg.
And he's so pale and littered with tattoos. And the second Eddie finishes his last lap he dramatically falls on his ass, sitting with his legs splayed on the brick red track.
And in Steve's head the exact words "those legs are like a spilled notebook of crude doodles and glorious art" followed immediately by "am I writing fucking mind poetry about Munson's white boy legs? fuck am I gay?".
He will learn about bisexuality in 14-22 months and a lot of things will click into place.
"You love him don't you?" Wayne whispers, breathy, quiet, his voice cracking around the edges of something that feels like raw emotion.
It's then that Eddie turns his gaze away from Steve to look at him, the light never fading from his eyes and the smile never wiping from his face.
Steve's sitting on the trailer floor, in the middle of the living room, Eddie's clothes hanging from his body as he flips through one of Eddie's many monster manuals. Wayne knows the boy would never admit it, but he's just as interested in D&D as the other kids. He's helping Eddie plan his next campaign for christ sake.
Next to Wayne, two cans of coke in hand and a love struck smile on his face, Eddie nods, his cheeks darkening as his smile ever so slightly fades. "Is that okay?" He asks, looking all the bit nervous as his eyes roam Wayne's face.
"More than okay Son."
Eddie's smile brightens once again and if Wayne notices the small amount of tears welling in his eyes, he says nothing about.
"You ever going to tell him?" Wayne continues, nodding in Steve's direction, the boy still oblivious to the conversation being whispered behind his back.
"I don't know if I can."
Wayne says nothing to Eddie's reply as he watches the boy return to the living room where he sits down next to his best friend. Steve smiling bright as the sun upon Eddie's return.
Months go by and Wayne gets to watch as Steve falls too. It's there and so obvious to anyone but Eddie.
His eyes linger and his smile never fades. Soon Wayne sees as he sits a little closer and his cheeks grow a little darker.
There's moments when Wayne catches what he can only describe as a love struck expression across Steve's face. Eddie's talking, because when is he not, and Steve's there, eyes wide and locked onto Eddie's ever changing expression.
He looks fond. Fond in a way Wayne's never seen anyone look at his nephew.
There's moments when he sees Steve hesitant. Moments when he and Eddie are so close and Steve's hand twitches like it wants to reach out. Moments when Steve looks like he wants to lean in but bites his lip and turns away with rosy cheeks.
It's nearly a year into their friendship when Steve's standing at Wayne's side and whispers, "I think I love him."
"Tell him," Wayne answers easily, leaving out the 'please' he so desperately wants to tack onto the end of that sentence.
Please, he thinks again as he watches Eddie turn to face them from across the yard, a smile so beautiful Wayne thinks it's the first time he's seen it on Eddie's face. The boy's elbow deep in his van as his cheeks grow a little pinker as he says with a smile, "Stevie come here for a sec."
Steve leaves, but not before whispering back to Wayne, "I think I will."
No more than a week later Wayne comes home to find the boys on the couch, Steve sleeping and curled into Eddie's side, snoring with his nose pressed to Eddie's neck.
Wayne offers his boy a smile as he stirs from the sound of the door closing. He looks tired, arms tightening around Steve's waist as he smiles back and burrows closer, kissing the top of Steve's head before drifting back off.
"He loves me," Eddie says one evening, weeks down the road, a rare occasion when Steve isn't over and Eddie's actually home.
Wayne smiles, his heart so warm and full as he says, "I know."
Steve's been over for a few weeks now. Part of Wayne's convinced he's moved in, what with the new additions to their fridge and bathroom vanity. The idea doesn't upset him in the least.
He's gotten to witness their love grow during that time anyway.
He's gotten to witness the way Steve kisses a grumpy Eddie good morning until he finally smiles.
Or the way Eddie lights up when Steve's arms wrap around his waist and he whispers an "I love you Eds," that Wayne isn't sure if he's supposed to hear.
Or the way they giggle and kiss and love one another in such a beautiful and uninhibited way.
Granted too, sometimes that means Wayne's hears a bit too much. Eddie would be mortified to know there's been far too many occasions in which Wayne's had to leave the trailer to escape the gasping breaths that occasionally pour out from under his bedroom door.
Though this time, Wayne's inside as the boys are on the roof smoking and he thanks the lord above that all he can hear are the faintest of whispers.
There's only parts of the conversation that he catches, but his heart swells when he hears Eddie's voice so clearly say, "I'm gonna marry you someday Steve Harrington."
Wayne cries the day Eddie shows him the ring.
And cries even harder when Steve shows him his.
Steve's hand is shaking where the single golden band lies on his ring finger, Eddie standing directly behind him, arm around his waist with a smile that matches Steve's in the way it resembles Sunshine.
They can't marry, not legally anyways. But that doesn't stop Jim Hopper from officiating a ceremony or Joyce Byers from walking Steve down the aisle.
The backyard to Hoppers cabin is filled with faces Wayne has grown familiar with over the years. Young and old, smiling and crying all the same.
Dustin and Robin both write speeches, both as rambling and as funny as they are beautifully heart wrenching.
There's not a dry eye in the house.
The boys move into an apartment where they build a life together.
Wayne visits often for meals or a cup of coffee in the mornings, still delighting in the way his Eddie seems so wonderfully overcome with love and affection.
He'd thought he'd shed enough tears for his lifetime at the wedding, but one evening, sat at the table with Robin Buckley and his boys, Wayne finds out he's gonna be a grandpa.
Dear Pizza , I am just wondering if you have a favorite napping spot, or any advice on how to take a great nap?
Pizza's choice is the windowsill when the sun hits it right. or the other windowsill when the sun hits it right. but her advice would be find a spot where you feel safe, make sure it's warm enough, and don't forget to change your position from time to time so as not to have sore muscles after it. and don't forget not to dwell on the negative and just enjoy the moment of peace while napping 🍀
It's rare, having a soulmark. Having someone else's name etched upon your skin is a leftover evolutionary trait, designed for finding who you are most compatible with in order to produce healthy offspring.
It's outdated. It's dying out. Humans have moved past the need for them, like wisdom teeth, Emily reasons.
Some people have them, some don't.
Emily Raines is one of the few to have been born with a soulmark, his name in messy scrawl along her clavicle;
Owen.
The problem? He's already met his Emily... right?
Or; what if Finding Emily was a soulmate au?
CHAPTER 1
Next
Masterlist
A/N: little shortcut in your eyes is also up on ao3! Gonna try and cross post here for this one 🫶 the fic is below the cut, please excuse the rambling in my author's note LMAOOOOO
It's been a minute since I wrote on here. I was previously under "kayharrisons" (hi og bjorn/spike girlies if you're still here) and had a LOT of reader inserts on here which I've since deleted. I'm not big into writing reader inserts anymore, unfortunately. And tbh I was so mentally exhausted just looking at em. I didn't feel joy at the thought of writing, it felt like a chore, which sucked, because I DO love to write. Ngl, feeling MUCH happier now that I've made that choice!
With that out of the way, I hope whoever reads this fic enjoys it! Got a lot going on irl atm, so the next few chapters might take a little minute!
Soulmates are something of a small statistic, these days. Every 1 in 10,000, or something of the sort.
The numbers used to be higher, it used to be the case that every tenth person had a soulmate way back when. Somehow the universe just knew who on earth was your so called perfect match, who would compliment your personality and who was biologically compatible.
Something something, soulmates tend to produce healthier offspring.
Emily thought the whole ordeal was a fucking nightmare.
The universe supposedly says "this one person is it for you" and that's supposed to be it? You're supposed to just roll over and accept it? What if you meet them young? Are you expected to never even think about anyone else romantically? Are you to just grin and bear it?
What if your soulmate is abusive? A murderer? The worst of the worst? Isn't it an insult, a giant fuck you from the universe, that you're matched with them?
It has never made sense to Emily why people lose their fucking minds over soulmates.
It's illogical. It's insanity.
She has one.
Owen.
His name curls along her clavicle, handwriting messy, as if he'd stopped by in the night and scribbled his name on her before running away.
She had been born with it, which means he is older than her. Other than that, she knows nothing about him.
Major flaws in the system; he could be any age and, again, she knows nothing about him.
She does not hunt for him, despite what her friends suggest that is in fact what she should be doing with her free time. No, Emily does not hunt for boys called Owen. She parties, she studies a little too hard in between episodes of 90 Day Fiancé with her mom whilst wishing she could actually have some sort of conversation with her that did not make her feel like she was readying the tinfoil hats.
She kisses boys who aren't called Owen. She sleeps with the odd one or two. She never has a steady relationship because most boys get pissy about her having a soulmate, despite her stance being firmly towards not seeking him out. Honestly, the odds of her actually finding him are slim to fucking none anyway. This factoid matters little to boys who feel their ego is threatened.
Emily writes papers about soulmates. She looks into the pros and cons; leaning firmly towards more cons than anything else, mind you. Her goddamn thesis is about how love, and therefore soulmates, tend to cause insanity.
People tut at her for such a stance, but, honestly, it makes more sense to her than the notion of falling head over heels just because somebody's name is written on you. How are you even supposed to know that you're actually soulmates?
Millions of people share names, after all! She doesn't buy the bullshit claims from pairs who say they just knew the second they found out the name of their other half.
Honestly... how can you gage whether or not you're going to spend the rest of your life with somebody based off of nothing but a name?
It's insanity.
**********/*?
Owen is certain he's going to spend the rest of his life with her.
He watches Emily prance off, pulled away by her friends, her wings bobbing with the movement, her laugh echoing through the night, and he is nothing short of enchanted.
His gut feelings when it comes to girls are usually wrong. His brother loves to take the piss out of him for it, delighting in his brother's misery and dramatics when it comes to girls.
Matt has it easy. He'd met Freya during sixth form when she'd moved schools. The rest was history.
Owen wants that.
He dreams of the connection, of the fact that there was one person out there that the universe had decided was perfect for him.
Emily.
The mark had appeared some months after his second birthday, to his mother's delight. It was rare for a family to have more than one person with a mark.
God fucking knows his parents hadn't.
Her name is elegantly scrawled onto his left pointer finger, more often than not resulting in him daydreaming during classes and hang outs, eyes always drawn to the elegnant swoops of her writing.
Sometimes, he'll trace it with his right pointer finger, will mouth her name to himself over and over, letting the syllables roll from his lips and surround him, like a warm embrace.
She has always brought him comfort. During his darkest days, after mum's death, just the very thought of this mysterious Emily kept him going.
And now, he's met her.
Now, all he has to do is call her, or text. All he has to do is make her laugh that gorgeous laugh again, and then everything will start to fall into place.
But, as Owen Brompton will come to discover, life is of course never that simple.
The way i NEED a Steddiefied version of Finding Emily where Steve is a hopeless romantic looking for ‘his’ Eddie and Eddie is a cynic who thinks love makes you insane
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