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steddieas-shegoes · 26 days

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Eddie loved flying. When the sun was out and he could watch the cars and houses get smaller while they reached altitude. When everything felt a bit lighter and his stress was under the clouds.

He did not love flying when the weather was bad.

In fact, he’d joked with the flight attendant that maybe they should delay the flight until the wind and dark clouds passed, but she just laughed and said the pilots were used to it.

Good for them. Eddie wasn’t.

He always sat in the window seat in first class, usually had some old businessman on his way to close a very important deal next to him. That wasn’t an option for this last minute flight though, so he was in the last row of the plane, leg bouncing nervously as people continued to board.

“As a courtesy to those around you, please stow your personal items under the seat in front of you as soon as you are in your seat. This allows a faster boarding process for all of us. Thank you!”

The announcement was a reminder that Eddie was flying without his usual carry-on items. His tour manager had packed him a checked bag and sent him on his way.

So he had his phone and his wallet, and eyes looking out the window next to him watching rain start to hit the tarmac below.

“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat,” a man’s voice said from the aisle.

Eddie looked over and saw a long line of men roughly his age in matching track suits, backpacks over their shoulders, and the Notre Dame logo on their jackets.

They were all tall. Well, all except the guy talking to him now. He was pretty average size.

“Uh. I don’t think so man. I’m 36F,” Eddie answered as kindly as his nerves would allow.

The guy checked his phone, brows creasing together.

“I’m 36F.”

No fucking way was Eddie giving up his window seat.

“Is there a problem?” A flight attendant asked from behind them.

“We’re both supposed to be in 36F?” The guy held his phone towards the attendant.

“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” The attendant asked Eddie.

Eddie pulled his own phone out, holding out the mobile boarding pass for her to see it.

“Sorry sir, it looks like you should be in 36E.”

Oh no.

Oh god no.

A middle seat?

There was no fucking way.

“I’m sorry, would it be at all possible for me to be in a window seat?” Eddie didn’t want to cause problems, but his chest was starting to clench and his breaths were coming in short pants.

“Unfortunately, this is a sold out flight. We wouldn’t have any available for you.”

He could feel eyes on him, quite a few of them, but none as obvious as the guy who actually belonged in 36F.

“We can just switch, man. No big deal.”

Eddie sighed with relief.

“Thank you, yeah. That’d be great.”

The attendant nodded and gestured for the guy to sit down.

Someone behind him sat on his other side and they immediately started talking as if nothing had happened.

See? Eddie had actually done them a favor! Now he could talk to his teammate for whatever sport he played and Eddie could watch their impending demise through the window.

The plane was rocking back and forth from the force of the wind blowing outside and the sky continued to grow darker despite the early afternoon hour. Eddie was considering sending a goodbye text to his band when he felt a hand on his arm.

“Hey, you okay?”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the guy next to him.

“Do you normally get nervous when you fly? Or is this your first time?” He continued. “Sometimes it helps to just close your eyes during takeoff.”

It was kind of him to try this, truly, but Eddie knew kindness wouldn’t save them if lightning hit them.

“I’m just not a fan of storms.”

The guy was watching him while his teammate on the other side of him talked to the guys across the aisle. Eddie was surrounded by this entire team. The irony was not lost on him that he spent so much of his youth expressing disdain for sports ball and might die among a group of sports ball players.

“Steve.” The guy nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s instead of offering his hand, an odd thing to do but the contact was grounding.

“Eddie.”

“You wanna hold my hand?”

Did they already die during takeoff? Did Eddie somehow end up in heaven?

This very attractive man, who definitely didn’t even know who Eddie was, was offering comfort in these trying times. Offering to hold his hand!

“Uh.”

Steve smiled. “It’s okay if not, but I figured it might help you focus on something else.”

“Sure.”

Steve held his hand out, palm up, and Eddie laced their fingers together.

“So, Eddie. Tell me where you’re off to.”

Eddie breathed in, breathed out. “My Uncle. He’s getting his appendix out so I’m trying to get there before he wakes up.”

“Oh. I had mine out when I was 10! Is he okay?” Steve seemed genuinely concerned and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.

“Yeah! Yeah, they caught it before it ruptured. But because of his age, they said his recovery might be a little rough so I’m gonna stay with him for a week to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’s a stubborn old man who’d probably be pulling weeds from his garden within hours if I wasn’t going so.” Eddie looked back out the window. Fingers reached under his chin, turning him away from the window.

“Eyes on me.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Eddie nodded and squeezed Steve’s hand.

“Good.”

Fuck.

“So, you’re close with your uncle?” Steve asked, as if he hadn’t just turned Eddie’s entire world upside down.

“Mhm. He basically raised me. More like a dad,” Eddie whispered out.

The pilot was making an announcement, but you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what it was for. He barely even noticed that they were backing away from the boarding zone.

“Do you visit him often?”

“As often as I can. My job keeps me busy,” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to give it away, didn’t wanna give Steve a reason to look at him differently.

Eddie was gonna soak up this attention as long as he could.

It was actually helping distract him.

“I get that. I mean, I play basketball for Notre Dame and it basically is a full time job. We travel so much, most of my classes are online. I hardly ever get back home to visit my family,” Steve admitted with a sad smile. “Luckily, they come see me at my home games when they can. Does your uncle get to visit you sometimes?”

Just as Eddie went to answer, he caught lightning out of the corner of his eye and his entire body tensed.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was firm, drawing his attention away from the window quickly. “Keep your eyes on me. We’re fine. Just you and me talking right now.”

They were nearly at the runway for takeoff and it was getting harder to focus on Steve’s words, the warmth of his hand in his, the fact that if it were truly dangerous, they wouldn’t even be cleared for takeoff.

As the plane sped up, Eddie whimpered.

He’d be embarrassed later if he survived.

Steve’s hand pulled from his and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against his side while his other hand cupped the back of his head and kept his face against his chest.

“Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”

And really, if the plane went down in flames, no one could save them. But hearing it did help, especially with arms holding him so tightly, he almost didn’t even remember he was on a plane.

But not quite.

The wind was strong enough to make the takeoff rough, shaking the plane more than usual as it left the ground.

Eddie’s hand gripped Steve’s shirt so tight, he would probably cause a tear if his nails weren’t so dull.

He stayed like that while they continued to climb above the clouds, the air pockets making the flight a bit more turbulent than Eddie was okay with.

He felt the vibrations of Steve talking, but didn’t hear him, didn’t even know if he was talking to him or the guy next to him who probably thought Eddie was an idiot.

The pilot made an announcement he didn’t hear, but he figured if he was gonna die, he could die against the chest of a nice, hot guy.

“Worst of it’s almost done, babe,” Steve said, lips against the top of Eddie’s head.

Gareth would never stop teasing him about this if he ever found out.

Being consoled by a sports ball guy during a flight he’s taken at least 30 times in the last two years.

New low? Maybe new high if he managed to get his number.

Steve’s fingers played with his hair, and he slowly felt his body relax.

His last thought before drifting asleep was how nice it was to be held like this.

***

“I think he’s probably a cookie guy.”

Eddie’s eyes blinked open to Steve’s voice quietly rumbling in his ear.

He’d been adjusted at some point so his head rested on Steve’s shoulder, one hand against his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep on a flight. Maybe the last time they flew to London from LA right after a show?

And those had been perfect flying conditions.

He lifted his head as he rubbed at his eyes and tried not to let the butterflies take over when Steve’s hand squeezed his hip.

“Hey sleepyhead. You want cookies or pretzels?”

“Cookies always. Please.” Eddie yawned.

As he took the package of Biscoff cookies, he noticed how smooth the flight was and the sun shining through the window.

Steve’s arm stayed around him.

The entire flight.

Even after he’d gotten up to use the restroom.

Even when there was no real reason to offer him comfort anymore.

Even when they landed on the runway in Indianapolis and the seatbelt light turned off.

Even while they talked to each other the entire flight, sharing the smallest details about themselves as if it was a first date.

“Would it be okay if I get your number? I’d like to check on your uncle later if that’s okay,” Steve asked, suddenly seeming more nervous than he had the entire flight.

I’m “Yes! Yeah, please,” he quickly typed it into Steve’s phone, putting his name as Eddie M 🛫. “Uh, thanks for, ya know, helping. Kind of embarrassing.”

“No reason to be embarrassed. It was scary.”

“Yeah. I just figured I fly so much, I should be used to it.”

“You never told me what your job was,” Steve nudged him as he pocketed his phone.

“I didn’t.” Eddie almost didn’t wanna ruin this. But he’d figure it out or find out and then it’d be worse. “I’m the lead singer for Corroded Coffin.”

“Is that…a famous band?”

The guy on the other side of Steve smacked his shoulder. “Dude, one of their songs is on our locker room hype playlist. Dustin’s obsessed.”

“Shut up, Lucas. You know I have my own playlist!” Steve turned back to Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. So you’re like famous.”

“You could say that,” Eddie hated saying it though, at least in these situations. “You really didn’t know?”

“Nah. I’m more of a pop and 80s kinda guy.”

“Maybe you could send me a playlist? Ya know, when you check on my uncle later,” Eddie suggested.

“Sure. I’ve got a two and a half hour bus ride back to campus to work on one.” Steve smirked. “You gonna be alright now?”

“Yeah. Thanks again. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime. Anything you need.”

And Eddie was pretty sure he meant it.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #drabble #headcanon #somewhat based on real events #university of Utah lacrosse team I hope you won whatever games you flew here to play on Easter weekend

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artrealla · 27 days

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she deserves a hug imho

#my art #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #more like stevie harrington #steddie #i did this in 2 hours i just needed it to be in the universe

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kitchen-spoon · 3 months

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Steddie strangers to lovers. They meet because they commute on the same train everyday. Eddie has the NYT crossword and he does it everyday. One day after 2 months of them riding together he asks steve for his help.

Eddie’s like ‘u look smart what do u think?’ And Steve who has been told he is an idiot or stupid or dumb every day of his life is like “its just the suit I’m not good at smart stuff like that.”

And Eddie is like ‘no way I bet you can help with the sports section at least. I mean look at me, if we’re going off stereotypes I’m hopeless.” It get’s Steve to blush and he cracks and helps.

Everyday after that they do the puzzle together, Steve eventually helping outside of just the sports section so Eddie can prove to him just how smart he knows he is.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things ships #stranger things #stranger things one shot #strangers to lovers #meet cute #nerd eddie munson #jock steve harrington #gay eddie munson #gay steve harrington #alternate universe no upsidown #alternate universe #alternate universe the 90’s #flirty #musician eddie munson #eddie munson has peircings and tattoos

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luveline · 4 months

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kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he takes the step up into the front door. It gets caught on the latch, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside.

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?”

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light.

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat.

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside.

It’s good to be home.

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated.

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone.

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive.

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways.

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves.

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate.

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m twenty minutes away.

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast.

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently.

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in.

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness.

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side.

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.”

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything.

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…” Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?”

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.”

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.”

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?”

“She won’t let me eat.”

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.”

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, of course. What can I do?”

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.”

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for.

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you.

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.”

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.”

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks.

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?”

“Avery’s always nice.”

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.”

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.”

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.”

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away.

“You comfortable enough?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.”

“But you had fun, right?”

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.”

“Exhausted?” you ask.

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.”

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.”

“You did not.”

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy).

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.”

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek.

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.”

“Love you, Steve.”

“Love you, too.”

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rocketkit · 8 months

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scene from a nonexistent fic

#long time no steddie #this will probably be one of my last posts for awhile. i’m starting up university in a few days #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanart #eddie munson fanart #steddie fanart #stranger things #stranger things fanart #my art #st #scene from a nonexistent fic

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glorious-spoon · 6 months

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controversial eddie munson opinion, but tbh i think eddie has not the slightest fucking clue about hanky code; he wears a bandanna in his back pocket because james hetfield did it, because 80s metal aesthetics were playing a game of telephone with the gay leather scene courtesy of rob halford and a huge chunk of their fans had no clue

#stranger things #eddie munson #i mean i think he figures it out pretty quick in a universe where he survives high school and moves to a city #but eddie munson age 19-maybe-20 in the year 1986 in rural indiana? he has no idea

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lihhelsing · 7 months

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“Hey!”

The next customer has chocolate brown eyes and long curly hair. He’s kind of cute, Steve thinks.

“Hi! What can I get started for you?”

The guy looks at him expectantly and Steve is a little confused but he keeps his smile plastered and waits. The order will come in time.

After a long minute, the guy’s smile falls a bit but he ends up asking for a black espresso.

“You got it. What’s the name?”

Now it looks like Steve just offended the guy. He tries to think if this is someone who has been to the shop before but Steve knows for a fact he’d remember him.

The guy coughs to cover his shock and murmurs “Eddie,” before walking away without looking at Steve again.

Eddie, he thinks. It doesn’t ring any bells and the guy definitely stands out. Steve would've noticed him, for sure.

Steve feels bad anyway. The guy wasn’t flirting, he just said ‘hey’, but he wasn’t not flirting either.

Was Steve that oblivious?

There’s no line in the shop right now, so he decides to make Eddie’s coffee himself.

When he calls his name he slides a chocolate muffin, too.

“I didn’t order that,” Eddie says, not looking at Steve.

“Oh, it’s on the house! Just enjoy.”

Eddie frowns at him as if he can’t quite understand Steve. He huffs out a breath and picks up his things before walking away.

Steve clicks his tongue. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.

The thing is, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie now. He sits there and eats his muffin alone. He checks his phone a few times and even types on it but seems frustrated after a while.

Steve wonders if he got stood up on a date or something.

It wouldn’t be the first time. A lot of people usually come for first dates at the shop. Steve finds it cute and he usually tries to help when he can. Offers something sweet as a treat for them to share or something.

But lately he’s been seeing a lot of people getting stood up

It makes him a little sad, to be honest. People will sit there for forty or fifty minutes before shyly getting up and walking away, their coffees cold and just half drunk.

Eddie seems to be another victim of that. He picks at his muffin and sips his coffee.

Steve has to fight the urge to say anything. What would he even say? He doesn’t even know who Eddie was waiting for although he does seem the type to date guys.

Maybe he could drop a cup with his number on it. It worked before, it could work again.

Before he can change his mind, Steve does exactly that. He walks around the counter and clear some tables before making his way to where Eddie is sitting.

He smiles, “are you all done?”

Eddie looks up at him and blushes furiously. It’s cute.

“Uh… yeah, thanks.”

Steve grabs the trash and drops the cup with his number written on it.

“It’s on the house, too.”

Steve winks. Hope it wasn’t too cringe and walks away before Eddie can react. He can do whatever but Steve would be really sad if he just ignored his number.

After a few minutes, Eddie walks back to the counter. He looks at Steve with a frown again. Steve kind of wants to run his fingers on it to smooth it down.

“What’s your damage?” Eddie asks out of nowhere. Steve frowns.

Had he read it all wrong? Had he offended Eddie somehow??

He didn’t look like a homophobe but then again Steve had been wrong before about that.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just-“

Eddie scoffs “didn’t mean to offend…? That’s really funny. You’re a funny guy, Steve.”

Steve is so confused now. He’s pretty sure he didn’t say his name to Eddie.

“I’m… sorry? I’m a little confused.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“Eddie, I’m not sure-“

“You’re not sure? I’m not sure about you. You act all weird like you don’t know me and then you try to give me a fake number?”

“I… I don’t know you! And it’s not a fake number, it’s my real number. I don’t know what…”

“Yeah? Well, let’s see.”

Eddie picks his phone and dials the number Steve gave him.

Steve is confused but he raises his phone and shows it when Eddie’s number flashes on the screen

“See? Real number,” Steve shrugs.

Eddie looks surprised.

“So what’s this number?”

Eddie shows him his phone and there it is, Steve’s picture on a contact of a number he doesn’t recognize. He instantly feels bad for the guy. He’s been catfished.

“Oh… I’m sorry, that’s not me. I think someone was messing with you.”

Eddie gets bright red again. He pulls his phone back as if he’s been burned.

He mutters something that sounds like an apology and darts out of the door before Steve can stop him.

He feels sorry for the guy.

Someone clearly wanted to embarrass him if they sent him to Steve’s real workplace.

As much as his brain wants to linger on Eddie, his thoughts get interrupted by the evening rush of people in the coffee shop. Robin will be in soon but until then Steve has to manage it by himself and Eddie slips his mind.

Next Part

#Part 1 #There will be more don't worry #steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Coffee Shop AU #AU #Alternate Universe #Stranger Things #Fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic

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lazylittledragon · 1 year

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wHoops unfortunately this has lore now

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #they're dads in this universe too obviously #steve is getting fruitier by the day

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stevesbipanic · 4 months

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Daily reminder that fic writers work for free, yes every fic writer, the fic writer with bad grammar, the fic writer that writes characters ooc sometimes, the fic writer that takes awhile to update their works, the fic writer that has a different headcanon to you, they all work for free, they put out works for themselves and give them to you to read FOR FREE, so do not complain about something they wrote jfc, don't like don't read applies to everything not just kinks or dead doves ok EVERYTHING, don't like that Steve cries in this fic MOVE ON, don't like that Eddie is bi in this one MOVE THE FUCK ON, don't like that Steve is a bitch or Eddie is too ok with hard drugs JUST DON'T READ IT, the beauty of a large ship is that their truly is something for everyone NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ IT, and if you truly can't find anything you like write it yourself so maybe you can understand that it's not easy being a fic writer ok.

#im sorry for ranting #but some people have pissed me off #dont like dont read applies universally #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #b rants

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

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AU where Steve has decent parents. They aren’t great, but they’re not bad. They show up for major things and tell him they love him, but they don’t understand him. They don’t get that he needs more than that.

So Steve’s nanny keeps in contact with him even after she’s let go because “Steve doesn’t need looking after” at the age of 10. She checks in with him all the time.

Ms. Munson is always bringing him a dish from her own dinner with her brother and son, making sure he has someone at the awards days at school, makes sure he has gifts at Christmas that he’ll actually like.

But she never invites him to her home and it doesn’t hit him until his senior year of high school that she’s Eddie Munson’s mom, that they live in the trailer park that he was never allowed to go to, that her brother must be Wayne, who took him fishing once when he got his heart broken by his first girlfriend.

He’s a different person now, but not to Eddie.

As time goes on, and he experiences more trauma than any single person should, and he gets Robin as a platonic soulmate, he realizes that Ms. Munson still shows up. His parents don’t bother much anymore, but she does.

And two days before spring break of ‘86, she sends Eddie to Steve’s house with a care package.

When Steve shuffles through the items, he nearly chokes on his own spit when he finds a bag of pre-rolled joints.

Eddie comes up with excuses, brushes it off as just a friendly gesture for someone his mom cares so much about.

But Steve won’t hear it. He asks him to stay and smoke one with him, take the edge off since he’s been dealing with midterms.

They get high on his back patio, talking and laughing late into the night, so late that Eddie almost worries he’ll have to go to school in his clothes from the day before.

Steve won’t hear it, offers his shower and his “most metal” clothes- his only black jeans and a plain white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off- and says he can sleep there for the couple of hours left before school.

Eddie wakes up to Steve making coffee and toast, using the jam his mom had included in the care package and a smile that made Eddie’s cynical heart flop in his chest.

Eddie didn’t think the next time he saw Steve would be when he was holding a broken bottle to his neck, terrified of everything and everyone, but the moment they had a second alone, Steve hugged him close.

“It’s a shit way to be welcomed into the group officially, but I’m glad you’re not alone.”

Steve and Eddie were inseparable while fighting Vecna, both of them insistent on protecting the kids.

When Steve managed to get Eddie to the motel the Munsons were staying in after El managed to get rid of Vecna, Ms. Munson was standing at the door with tears in her eyes.

“My boys.”

She patched them up, better than any doctor probably would have, giving them small kisses on the head when they winced in pain.

And eventually, she tucked them into one of the beds in the room, ignoring how they hadn’t stopped holding hands for the entire night.

She’d been hesitant to introduce them; Eddie, for all his talk of accepting people for who they are, struggled to accept how much she did for Steve, not understanding why he may need it.

But it seemed like she didn’t need to force anything. They found their way together in the end.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk idk idk I just think life has a lot of weird intricacies and sometimes we are connected in ways we don’t know until one tiny thing #happens and suddenly we realize #and I think in any universe Steve and Eddie would find a way #headcanon

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blushweddinggowns · 4 months

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“So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life.

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?”

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #alternate universe #famous eddie munson #damn your love damn your lies

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