#and eddie can tells hes MISERABLE all the time

[strangersmunsons]

read 'em and weep #5

you're acting weird. Eddie decides to do something about it.

Chapter 5 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 4 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, mix of fluff & angst, romantic gestures, idiots in love, communication breakthrough, shy babies working out some kinks. No mention of reader's appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: Discussion of Eddie's past, mentions of poverty, drug use, allusion to violence. Mentions of food & eating. Word Count: 4.5k sometimes I think I make him too soft in this series, but I can't help myself. are you guys tired of lovesick!eddie yet???

Eddie wakes up late on Sunday — it’s well after noon when he rises from bed with a sticky yawn in his throat and sleep in his eyes. In his rumpled t-shirt and boxers, hair a tangled mess, he pads down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Wayne is dropping scoops of pancake batter into a sizzling pan on the stove.

“Mornin’, Ed.”

“G’morning,” Eddie grunts back. He plops into one of the seats at the tiny table, rubbing his eyes.

“Sleep okay?”

“Like a rock.”

Wayne nods approvingly. “Figured as much. I could hear ya from the living room.”

Eddie scrunches his face in annoyance. “You could not.”

His uncle smiles, mirth buried in his whiskers.

“Well, you deserve a good night’s sleep. You’re always out and about these days.”

Wayne flips the last pancake, lets it cook, then adds it to the stack he’s already piled up. He sets the plate of cakes and two cups of coffee onto the table, and takes a seat across from his nephew.

They begin to eat in silence. That’s not unusual, as Eddie has a tendency to inhale his food — the boy’s got a garbage disposal for a stomach — but he’s not scarfing it down the way he normally does. Instead, he pushes his breakfast around his plate in between taking small bites, looking moody.

Wayne pauses in between sips of coffee, #1 Uncle mug hovering halfway to his lips. 

“Everything okay?”

“Uh…I think so. Yeah.”

Wayne raises an eyebrow skeptically at him. “You sound like you’re not sure.”

Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, frowning at his pancakes.

He doesn’t want to push, lest Eddie shut him down completely, but Wayne’s curious. Sue him.

“Somethin’ happen with your girl last night?”

Eddie blushes and sits back in his seat, voice pained. “Wayne —”

“We don’t have to get all touchy-feely. It’s just a question,” he tells him sternly. “And believe it or not, kiddo, I have known a woman or two in my lifetime. I can give you advice if you need it, y’know. I’m not a eunuch.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Gross, man.”

Wayne laughs, a gruff chuckle that reverberates around the small kitchen. Eddie smiles in spite of himself.

“So what’s the problem?”

Eddie drums a nervous rhythm against the table with his fingers, naked without their bulky rings. “I don’t know, really. She was just kinda weird yesterday.” He pauses for a moment, searching for the right word. “Distant.”

Wayne listens intently, fist tucked under his chin. “Distant how?”

Eddie fills his cheeks with air, and lets it out in a long, slow exhale. “Well, she was fine in the morning, but last night she was really quiet. Especially when we were alone, which I don’t understand.” If you’d been nervous to spend time with his friends, then he’d get it, but you seemed fine at Benny’s. It was before and after, when you were by yourselves, which strikes him as odd.

He gestures helplessly with his hands, words flowing faster now, confusion leaking into every syllable. “She’s usually really excited when she sees me. All happy and stuff, y’know? And we always talk a lot, but she hardly said a word to me. And at first I thought she just had a tough day at work, but then —” Eddie stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. I didn’t get hardly any kisses, he finishes miserably in his head.

Rather than verbalize the thought for Wayne, he just throws his arms up, letting his flailing limbs speak for themselves.

Wayne gives him a solemn nod, determined to keep his expression neutral. If he reacts too strongly either way, then Eddie might not feel so inclined to discuss his love life with him again. Ever the sensible one, he asks, “Did she have a tough day at work?”

Eddie looks sheepish. “That’s what she said,” he admits reluctantly. 

“But you don’t believe her?”

Eddie’s bottom lip juts out petulantly. “It just didn’t feel like she wanted to be around me.” His face falls, and his voice becomes softer, the hurt more pronounced. “Like she couldn’t wait to get away.”

Wayne heaves a sigh, and thinks it over. “Personally, I think you’re readin’ too much into it,” he finally responds. “If she tells you she had a hard day, then she probably did.” He rubs his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Although, you might be onto something there….”

Eddie’s face crinkles in despair, mouth falling open.

“Now, hang on,” Wayne adds hastily, seeing his kicked-puppy look. “I just mean to say, that you’ve been spendin’ an awful lot of time together, right? And you haven’t really known each other that long, but you’ve hardly gone a day this summer without seeing her. Maybe she’s runnin’ out of things to say to you,” he jokes.

Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste. “C’mon,” he complains.

“She might just need a little space, is all I’m sayin’.” The older man shrugs. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you, or that she doesn’t wanna be around you. Just give her some breathing room. And then, in a few days, if you still feel like things are off, talk to her about it.”

Eddie squints at him. “Can I just do that?”

Wayne shakes his head in disbelief. “Boy, I swear,” he mumbles.

After breakfast, Eddie mulls over what his uncle told him. Now, he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t really know how to be a boyfriend, but goddamn it, he’s trying.

Is that his problem? Is he trying too hard?

Okay, fine, he’s a bit of a smother. But it’s difficult for him not to be; he’s spent far too long navigating life in this thankless town alone. Now that he’s finally found you, he can scarcely bring himself to let go, even for a second.

“Breathing room,” he mutters to himself. Fine. No biggie. He can deal with that.

For the next few days, Eddie resists the temptation to call you first, or visit you unannounced at work, which is a task that would be much easier to accomplish if you were giving him literally anything in return.

But you haven’t called. Not for an evening chat, which was customary on days he didn’t stop by the library. Not to check up on him, not to find out where he’s been, or why he hasn’t visited…it’s like nothing is out of the ordinary. 

Evidently, you’re not missing him at all.

The phone has only rung twice so far this week. Once it was Henderson, and the other one was a telemarketer that he promptly hung up on. His ego took a huge hit every time he came home and asked, “Any calls for me?” and had to see Wayne shake his head no.

Disappointed, and overwhelmed by a creeping sense of dread, Eddie concludes that your radio silence could mean one of two things: either you just don’t feel the need to be around him as much as he does you, or he did something to upset you. 

He can’t figure out which is worse. The internal debate plagues him morning and night as the days keep rolling by.

Up until now, you haven’t seemed to mind his clinginess. If anything you were nearly always overjoyed to see him — so much so that it startled him, and he often found himself looking back over his shoulder, to see if there was someone else standing behind him that you were smiling at instead. Has the novelty of Eddie Munson worn off so quickly? It didn’t seem like you, so kind and attentive towards him, but who was he to expect you to want to be with him twenty-four/seven?

Unless it was something else entirely, something he had done that didn’t sit right with you, that was causing this. He tries to think of what he could possibly said or did that may have offended you, but he keeps coming up empty. 

And then, in the midst of his warring thoughts, inspiration strikes.

“Uhhh…hey, Wayne?” 

Wayne calls back from his spot on the couch, where he’s immersed in the latest episode of The Joy of Painting. “Yeah?”

Eddie shuffles into the living room, lips pursed. He tries to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Would it be…ill-advised…to show up unannounced at her house with a grand romantic gesture?”

Wayne stares at him. “You know I said space, right?”

Eddie starts packing up a brown paper grocery bag with everything he thinks he’ll need, while Wayne hovers in the kitchen, watching him with his arms crossed. He’s simultaneously disapproving and amused.

“So you’re just gonna ignore my advice, huh?”

“Wayne,” Eddie sighs, “I appreciate your sage words of wisdom, I really do. But unfortunately, I am not a patient man. I need resolution now, or else I’ll die.” He pulls out another snack from a cupboard and stows it away in the bag, alongside the sandwiches he made and some other morsels scrounged up from the kitchen. He’ll get your favorite drink, too, when he stops for flowers at the gas station —

“You? Impatient? Naw.”

“Ha, ha,” Eddie replies sarcastically.

Wayne shakes his head. “I sure hope this works out for you.”

Eddie hesitates. “I mean….” Suddenly insecure, he looks over at Wayne, anguished expression on his face. “Is it a completely horrible idea?”

Wayne softens immediately, and silently curses himself for discouraging him. “No. No, I don’t mean that. I’m actually…well, I’m mighty proud to see you treatin’ a lady so well.” Eddie turns scarlet, grimacing at the praise, and Wayne continues. “I’m just worried you might overwhelm her, with…how well you’re treatin’ her.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair. “I just…don’t like the way things feel right now. And I don’t wanna make the mistake of ignoring it, hoping it’ll go away, and have things get worse.”

There’s a pang in Wayne’s heart. He really is a good kid, isn’t he? “Aw, hell, Ed. If this feels like it’s the right thing for you to do, then I say do it.”

When Eddie finally arrives at your house, the nerves have really kicked in. He understands that this is kind of a gamble, but subtlety has never been his forte. Slinging his acoustic guitar over his back, clutching the grocery bag in one fist and a small bouquet of dyed carnations in the other, he manages to rap lightly on the front door without dropping anything.

Eddie holds his breath as the seconds tick by, heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, the door swings open slowly, revealing your figure and Eddie immediately feels warm, in spite of the cool air that seeps out from the house. You look startled to see him, even more so when your eyes drop down to the flowers in his hand, mouth popping open in surprise.

“Hi,” he greets you nervously. “Uh, I hope it’s okay that I’m here, I-I know I didn’t call you or anything first. But, um, it’s a nice day out, so I thought we could have a picnic?” It comes out like a question. He jostles the grocery bag, and you can hear the contents shift around inside. “If you’re not busy or anything. And these, um, are for you.” He thrusts the flowers forward, palm sweating against their plastic wrapping.

You stand there in silence, not saying or taking anything, just gaping at him. Eddie’s stomach drops. And he’s totally unprepared for what happens next.

Your face crumples, and you burst into tears.

“Oh, Jesus.” Eddie sets everything down onto the ground and lurches forward, arms outstretched to touch you, but he hesitates before making contact, his hands fluttering around your figure uncertainly. “I — sweetheart — what?” he stutters, entirely out of his element. 

“Sorry!” you sob, clapping your hands over your mouth. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize,” he says automatically, completely bewildered. His hands finally come down to rest on your shoulders, and he leans closer to you, like maybe proximity will cure whatever this is. “Is something wrong?” He winces, and shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s stupid — what’s wrong?”

You sniffle in response, fat tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Watching you tremble with emotion breaks his heart, and it’s stronger than his panic at being unexpectedly confronted by a crying woman. “Oh, baby,” he says tenderly, wrapping his arms around you fully and pulling you in close. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“Sorry,” you repeat in a watery voice, slightly muffled by you pressing your face into his shirt. “You’re just…you’re so sweet, Eddie. That’s all.”

“You don’t have to say sorry for crying,” he says, chuckling breathlessly. “Although I was kind of aiming for a smile with all this, not tears.” He pats your back gently, and moves his lips to your ear. “It’s been a while. I was missing you.”

You shudder. “I missed you, too.” You let out a choked laugh, and pull back a little, dabbing at your eyes. You audibly try and swallow the lump in your throat. “This isn’t how I usually greet company, I promise.”

In the small, sunny backyard, Eddie lays out a faded gingham tablecloth onto the grass. It’s tattered at the edges and bears quite a number of stubborn stains, maybe not great for their tiny kitchen anymore, but perfect for an outdoor blanket. While he sets up his little surprise date, doling out food and plates and napkins, he steals glances at you, visible through the kitchen window, where you’re arranging your new flowers in a vase. When you come back outside to join him, he doesn’t miss the way you swipe at your eye one last time, trying to rid yourself of the final remnants of your outburst.

He offers you a soft smile, and pats the spot on the ground next to him.

You sink onto the blanket with a sigh, looking tired but pleased to see him nonetheless. And there’s a trace of something else in your eyes, some unknown emotion that he can’t quite put his finger on. You reach gingerly for the sandwich he packed for you — your favorite, you note right away — but Eddie simply watches, wondering if he has to ask or if he should wait for you to explain.

“So, how’re things?” you ask innocently, and take a small bite.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his tone light. “Well, I’m a little concerned, naturally. We gonna talk about what just happened back there?” 

You chew slowly, stalling. He waits patiently.

“I wasn’t expecting all this,” you finally say, gesturing around at the spread before you. “It’s…it’s really, really nice of you,” your voice breaks again on the last word, but if you’re threatened by another wave of tears, you don’t succumb.

Eddie shrugs modestly, but remains curious. “It’s no big thing. Just wanted to surprise you,” he says, and hesitates before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wasn’t sure if…maybe you were upset with me, or something, I dunno. Like, if I did something wrong.”

Abruptly, you fix your gaze on your lap, but not before Eddie sees them widen in alarm.

He peers closer at you. “Were you upset with me?”

Your blanche. “God, I’m such an asshole,” you mumble, throat tightening again.

Eddie’s thoroughly confused now, and he chuckles uncertainly. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m a little lost here. Why are you calling yourself an asshole?” The idea is absurd; it’s hard for him to even fathom.

You wring your hands nervously, unable to make yourself look at him. “Eddie, I — I’m sorry. That I haven’t been reaching out to you lately.” You struggle with what to say, feeling ashamed, but you force yourself to continue. “But…Marissa — from work, y’know? — she…she told me some stuff about you.”

Eddie’s insides turn to ice.

“Stupid, gossipy stuff,” the words come out in a rush now, like you’re desperate to get the truth out and over with, “most of which I didn’t even really believe, anyway, but I guess I couldn’t help feeling…anxious, after it happened? And I didn’t know how to talk to you about it, so I just…didn’t. I’m so sorry.” You take a deep breath and shake your head, frustrated at your own actions. “And then you come here today with an entire picnic, and flowers, and your guitar, and I feel like the biggest jerk on the planet. I can’t believe myself.”

Eddie falls silent for a moment, his dark eyes big and sad. It’s not what he was expecting, though he supposes he should have been anticipating something like this happening eventually. Gossip about him had improved — or affected him less, at least — when he finished school, but there were still whispers about him amongst the townies, he knew.

“What did she tell you?” he asks dully. “That I’m the spawn of Satan?”

A knot twists in your stomach. “Something like that. Of course I know that’s bullshit.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “Oh, yeah? What did she tell you that was so impressive, then?” When you flinch at his words, he cringes inwardly at his own snarkiness, and reminds himself who he’s talking to.

You scratch at a dark spot on the blanket, fidgeting under his stare. “She — she said that you were involved with someone named Chrissy, and the way she mentioned it really freaked me out.”

Upon hearing her name, Eddie’s eyes bulge with panic. Oh shit, oh shit. Low blow from Marissa. Because unlike the far-fetched devil worship accusations, there’s some substance to that rumor, no matter how convoluted the truth became. He starts to mentally scramble for a way to explain, but you continue on before he can speak.

“I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of you having another girlfriend,” you admit guiltily. “I didn’t wanna find out, because I didn’t think I could take it, if I knew you were seeing someone else.”

That catches him off guard. “Oh, you —” Eddie fumbles with his words, “you thought that I was…dating her?”

You frown. “Well, yeah. When someone tells you ‘ask him about so-and-so’ in that kind of tone, that’s generally what comes to mind.”

Eddie blinks, then groans, and flings himself back on the blanket. He drapes one arm over his eyes, hiding the world from view. He heaves a great sigh. “Nothing like that ever happened between Chrissy and I,” he says quietly. “Never dated, never hooked up. Never even so much as kissed.”

“Oh.” You process this, wondering at her significance. “Who is she, then?”

“Just a girl in town,” he mutters. “We went to high school together.” He sighs resignedly again, and pulls his arm up, just enough so he can peek at you. “Listen, Wayne and I, we don’t have a whole lot to our names. In case that wasn’t obvious.” He snorts humorlessly. “I…used to deal, for a bit of extra cash. Help out with the rent and stuff. Did Marissa tell you that, too?”

“She did,” you affirm. “But Eddie, I don’t care about that either, I swear.”

He moves on without acknowledging your remark. “Chrissy was a cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High, basically. And she was looking to buy one day, so we met up after school. I was just gonna sell her some pot, but she asked me if I had anything, ah, stronger.” He wets his lips with his tongue. “I didn’t usually sell harder shit to other students, but I had some Special K laying around, for my own…personal use.” He doesn’t dare look up again to see your reaction to this tidbit. “And I sold it to her…and then she disappeared.”

You stare at him. “She…disappeared?”

Eddie sits back up and nods, face hardening. “For a few days, anyway. Ran away. Her family’s got a good name, and a lot of money, but that doesn’t always make for a good home life, y’know? I don’t know what was going on with her, exactly, but she wasn’t okay. And when she skipped town, everyone pointed their fingers at me.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate; the implication is clear. Still, you ask, “What, they thought that you…did something to her?”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, staring off into the distance. “All but brought out the pitchforks and torches.”

Indignance on his behalf hits you like a truck. “Teenagers run away all the time!”

Eddie rubs his face in distress. “Yeah, they do, but when Hawkins’ golden girl is last seen entering the town freak’s trailer to buy ketamine, people tend to jump to conclusions.”

A wave of sadness washes over you, as you try to picture it in your head: they truly believed that sweet, doting Eddie was capable of hurting a young girl like that? 

Eddie, who played fantasy games with kids six years his junior simply because they asked him to, and fed the strays in the trailer park, and spent many a Sunday making banana bread with his uncle? Who he chose to live with instead of moving out, because he loved him and wanted to be close in case he needed him? Was it even possible, for people to be so blind?

The very thought of it makes you sick. “That’s horrible….”

“S’okay,” he mumbles. “She came back home eventually. A little worse for wear, I heard, but she was fine. Told everyone that I had nothing to do with her leaving, or whatever happened while she was gone. But,” he shrugs, “people will believe what they wanna believe. The Munson reputation precedes me.”

You reach for his warm hand, and clasp it in yours, savoring the feel of his calloused palm against your own.

He casts you a desperate glance. “I swear I never did anything to her,” he whispers. 

Your chest aches for him, and you squeeze his hand. “Of course you didn’t.”

His breathing hitches. “I guess it’s obvious,” he says, voice trembling slightly, “that there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t, um, told you about yet. And to be honest, I don’t think I’m ready to tell you all of it right now, either. But I will, someday.”

There it is. The notion that Eddie wants to be in your life long-term, and that he wants you to be in his, finally spoken.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to,” you reassure him quietly. “It won’t change how I feel about you, anyway. I think you’re really wonderful. I-I like you so much, Eddie.”

A silence falls over the two of you. Eddie watches the bumblebees fly lazily over the white clover dotting the lawn. You try to think of something else to say, something you can tell him that’ll make the pain go away, erase the hurt that this town has caused him. You suspect that this incident with Chrissy is just the tip of the iceberg that is Eddie’s trauma — for how long was he treated like this by those around him, and how harshly?

Before you can come up with the right words to soothe him, Eddie speaks again, his voice a little stronger. “So you, uh…heard that I was a drug-dealing cult leader, but got upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?”

At last, some brevity. You make eye contact across the blanket, and you’re relieved to see the corners of his lips have turned up into a tiny smile.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you nod. “I did, yeah.”

He attempts husky laugh, though he still looks weary. “Damn. You got it bad, huh?”

You shrug. “What can I say? You’re a catch, Munson. I don’t think I feel like sharing.”

He hums softly, and he relaxes a little, body sagging as he finally releases some of the tension he’s been holding onto all this time. “Sorry for snapping at you,” he offers needlessly, biting at his thumbnail.

You dismiss it immediately. “Don’t apologize —”

“Nah, I get it. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if the cult rumors or the dealing really did bother you, even. I mean, that’s some pretty jarring intel to hear from your boss about the guy you’re dating. They’re not really things people tend to look for in a partner.”

You shake your head. “I should’ve talked to you about it as soon as it happened. But it just felt so…crass to come right out and start interrogating you.” You scoot closer to him on the blanket. “You have to believe me, Eddie, I don’t care about what anyone else has to say. I feel like I know you,” you pause, and reach out with your free hand to cup his cheek, “even if I’m a little fuzzy on the details right now.”

He sucks in a quick breath, closing his eyes, and rests his face against your palm. “I have to warn you,” he says, “that if we’re together, and people know about it, then this might not be the last time someone tries to talk to you about me. And I’m asking you to — to trust that I’m not what they say I am.”

“I do,” you promise. “I trust you.”

You lean in and press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. He rests his forehead against yours, and chuckles weakly. Although the reassurance was needed, he’s feeling all too vulnerable for his liking, so he changes the subject. “You know, while we’re hashing things out here, can I ask you an unrelated question?”

You smile indulgently. “Shoot.”

“So, I guess we know now that this wasn’t really why, but Wayne told me that the reason you weren’t talking to me is because I’m up your ass all the time, and that I need to give you more space. That’s why I didn’t come sooner. I know I kind of smother you, and I was worried that maybe, maybe you needed a break from me, or something?”

Rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, you whisper, “Oh, gosh no. You’re like…my favorite person, Eddie.” You nod shyly, as though affirming it to yourself for the first time. “Yeah. You’re the person I want to be around the most, um, at any given moment.”

Eddie blushes, and something inside of him shifts at those words, making him feel impossibly soft. “Me too,” he returns.

Your turn. “And I have a question for you, too.”

“Shoot,” he echoes.

“Were you gonna play me something on that?” You gesture to his guitar, forgotten on the grass behind him. 

Eddie lets out another laugh, the most carefree one he’s uttered today. “I was. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you playing acoustic music. I’m intrigued.”

Eddie grasps the neck of the guitar with one hand, and drags the instrument into his lap, situating himself into a playing position. “You’d be shocked, sweetheart. I can make just about anything sound metal.”

Your eyes sparkle wickedly. “Are you gonna play me some Joni Mitchell?”

Eddie purses his lips. “No, I was thinking KISS. It, uh, translates pretty well, actually.”

You cross your legs on the blanket, rest your elbow on your knee and tuck your hand under your chin — giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s hear it!”

thank you for reading!! <3

taglist: @eddiesgirlforever @eds6ngel @sheisahauntedhouse @lokis-tardis-companion19 @teary-eyed-egg @whenshelanded @nanaminswhore @witchwolflea @destinationwanderlust @kores-mun-son-n-more @clairesjointshurt @fishwithtitz @wickedscorpio22 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @lexr86 @cultish-corner

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff

[theshireisburningg]

one like and ill write the steve and eddie meet You Belong With Me by taylor swift fic

#i have so many thoughts #eddie and steve are friends outside of school #but in school steve is still the asshole basketball captain #whos constantly with the cheerleaders #and he puts on such an ACT and it drives eddie crazy bc he knows steve isnt like that #but he has friends and parents he feels the need to impress #and eddie can tells hes MISERABLE all the time #and eddie thinks hes making progress because he shows up to steves game wearing his letterman jacket #and he feels SPECIAL but then steves asshole dad sees him and is furious its not one of the cheerleaders wearing it #and they FIGHT bc steve ignores eddie out of fear for like 3 days and eddie calls him out for being a douche #and they finally makeup in time for the championship game #which eddie goes to in the jacket again bc fuck steves dad #and when steve scores he only hears eddie cheering even tho the cheerleaders are literally spelling his name #and he just stops dead in the middle of the court like #holy shit. im in love with eddie munson #and after eddie is like. yeah. youre an idiot steve harrington #ill stop now

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #drabble #musician Steve Harrington #musician eddie munson #we love alternate meetings in this house #we’re gonna say it’s a modern au to make things simpler #just go with it

[a-little-unsteddie]

cw: child abuse mentioned, child neglect

Steve, who was never allowed to play in the snow as a child because it was ‘too messy’. Steve, who stared longingly outside as he watched other kids play in the snow. Steve, wanting to build a snowman, or an igloo, or have a snowball fight, but was denied each and every time by his parents. “It’s uncouth, Steven.” “It’s dirty, Steven.” “You’ll just whine that you’re cold, Steven.” “No.” “No.” “No.” Until he stopped asking altogether, even as he stared out his bedroom window at the other kids playing. Steve who loves the snow but was never allowed to play. The one time he snuck out, he was brought inside being dragged by his ear and spanked until he cried.

And then some for crying at all.

Steve goes shopping with his mom and sees a snow globe and all but cries for her to get it for him. If he can’t have the snow outside, he wants to have a snow globe to have it inside. She lets him get it, but not without commenting ‘at least it’s not going outside’.

Thus starts a collection, of sorts. Whenever he sees a new snow globe, he makes his mom buy him it and because he never asks to go outside to play in the snow if she buys one, she keeps buying them for him.

He has around 10 or 15 snow globes by the time he’s a teenager and left alone more than he isn’t. He still doesn’t go out to play in the snow, even if he silently yearns to, because now he’s ‘too old’ to play out in the snow. Tommy doesn’t like being cold, so he never goes out, and Carol won’t do something if Tommy’s not there, so Steve doesn’t bother asking her to go outside.

Steve becomes friends with Dustin and the rest of the party, and he still doesn’t let himself play with them, even when Dustin begs him to. He passes on the same excuses to him as his mom told him, and the words feel like ash in his mouth, but he doesn’t just play in the snow like he’s aching to. It’s too cold, he’ll be wet and miserable later, he doesn’t want to get water all over the house.

Mostly, they’re excuses because he’s kind of worried he doesn’t know how to play in the snow. That somehow he’ll be bad at it.

Eventually, when he and Robin become friends and their first winter together happens, he tells her this secret fear. It’s right after the kids go out to play, and it’s just them, and he whispers to her.

“I don’t think I’ll be any good at it.”

Robin is confused, of course, because how can you be ‘bad’ at playing in the snow? He elaborates to her that he’s never played and she’s less confused but more angry at his parents, which he thinks is an over reaction and she insists he’s having an under reaction, whatever that means, and the moment passes. Steve is relieved to have revealed that much to her. He still doesn’t go outside, and Robin gets cold easily, so she doesn’t want to go outside, so they stay inside together.

He still collects snow globes, when he sees them. He buys one in front of the kids and brushes it off as a white elephant gift for a family thing, but displays it in the unused guest bedroom with the rest of the snow globes. It’s on the other side of the house from where every other guest bed is, so usually no one takes it, and so he knows his collection is safe.

Even if he keeps it secret, and plans to keep it secret forever, until the following winter, after the spring break from hell and after the grueling summer and cool fall brings the snow again and Eddie Munson is a menace in his life. He’s by far the most energetic person that he’s ever been friends with, all touches and open affection, it’s almost too easy to fall for him.

Eddie is nosy as hell and of course it’s him that finds the collection of snow globes.

“What’s this?” Eddie’s voice echoes from down the hall and it takes Steve a few seconds to process where his voice is coming from before he’s rushing down the hall and into the unused guest room.

Along the left wall, there’s a shelf that stretches from wall-to-wall filled with snow globes.

Embarrassment shoots through him, and he shrugs. “…snow globes.” he explains badly, wincing when Eddie turns towards him with an unimpressed look. It quickly morphs into concern because for some reason, Steve’s started tearing up and once the tears start they don’t stop.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie soothes, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, sweet thing.”

And the thing is, Steve does want to explain. Suddenly overcome with the urge to spill everything, in fact. So he does. He tells Eddie about his mom and dad refusing to let him play in the snow, the one time he got caught and got spanked for it, the snow globes, the fear of being bad at playing in the snow, still desperately wanting to despite it.

Through it all, Eddie holds him and listens. He hums occasionally to acknowledge what Steve is saying, but never interrupts him, for which Steve is glad because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to continue if he was stopped for any reason.

At the end of it, when Steve’s tears have dried, and they’re curled up in a pile of blankets on the couch, Eddie vows to teach him out to play in the snow. How to make a snow angel, a snowman, an igloo, a snowball — everything. He whispers these promises and plans into his ear, their hands intertwined where they lay on Steve’s lap.

And he follows through. With everything.

And the next time the kids beg him to play, he plays his part and says no, because he’s still anxious he’s going to do it wrong, Eddie throws a snowball at his back while he’s busy arguing with Dustin. And silence falls over everyone, waiting for Steve’s next move. Because he’s never given in, and no one’s ever pushed their luck like that.

Steve turns towards Eddie, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Oh, it’s on, Munson.”

The kids cheer and then it’s chaos of snowballs being lobbed at one another.

Later, when everyone is warming up with hot cocoa, and Steve is curled into Eddie’s side with a blanket tossed over their laps, Steve knows he’s never been happier to have met Eddie, who taught him how to play in the snow.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers to Eddie, who hums curiously, lazily looking at him from the corner of his eye. “For teaching me how to play in the snow.”

“Always, Stevie. I’ll always help you.”

And it sounds like a promise.

#is this anything? #idk #i wrote this on a whim #without rereading it #so if it doesn’t make sense i’m sorry #christmasish fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #cw child abuse #cw child neglect #steddie #stobin briefly #unsteddie writing

[louloulemons-posts]

Cuddle Bug

Eddie Munson X reader

Summary : Eddie isn’t very well and the only person who can make him feel better is reader.

Word Count : 1.6k

Warnings : not proofread, fluff, poorly eddie, eddie takes medication, touch starved eddie, eddie just loves reader so much.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You and Eddie had been dating for 3 months now and it had been great, you’d been friends for a while and then it somehow became more. It was so natural, easy, the pair of you had never felt this way.

However, Eddie wasn’t one to be overly affection, well physically that is. The boy was touch starved, and although Wayne loved his nephew, he was brought up seeing very little affection himself. So when Eddie ended up with him, he didn’t really know how to parent.

It was pats on the shoulder, ruffles of hair, awkward, but loving smiles. That showed in Eddie, when you first held his hand and kissed his cheek he freaked, he didn’t know if it was normal or not.

He ended up speaking to Nancy Wheeler about it, Steve would make fun, Robin didn’t date, Wheeler was different. She had told Eddie it was okay, telling him that Mike had trouble being physically affectionate due to seeing their fathers blatant lack of interest towards their mother and his own children.

It gave Eddie some comfort, making him relax when you showed gentle touches, when he also showed you. He loved touching you, even if it was the brushing of fingers as you walked side by side, Eddie loved it.

However, he didn’t expect to wake up one day and be craving your touch to the point he could cry. He had been quiet all morning, Wayne asking if he was alright, to which the boy had only grunted.

He was even more miserable going to school, knowing you wouldn’t be there until lunch, having to go for an appointment. He actually considered skipping, but Wayne shoved him out the door.

Eddie felt awful, sluggish, grouchy, he was just in an awful mood. “What’s that face?” Gareth asked, as the boy walked over, dropping his cigarette butt on the floor.

“What?”

“You look like your worlds ending.”

“I’m fine,” he said, snapping slightly. Sighing he spoke again, “Sorry, let’s just go to class.”

“Sure,” the younger boy nodded, worrying for his friend.

Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet in class, not making any jokes, not tapping on the desk, he was resting his head on his arms. The lights were too bright, noise was amplified, his body ached, he needed you.

“You okay?” Gareth asked quietly.

“Hm?” The curly haired boy friend his face to his friend. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost,” he joked, head banging when he chuckled, making him wince.

“Maybe you should see the nurse.”

“I’m good man, don’t worry.” He knew that his friend thought he was lying, and he wasn’t wrong to think that. He felt horrible.

“Mr Munson, last time I checked my class was English, not nap time, focus please,” the teacher scolded. Eddie lifted his head, holding it in his hand, worried he couldn’t keep it up without.

This was gonna be a long day.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It was indeed the longest day of Eddie Munson life, he had to drag himself to lunch. Barely able to sit in the cafeteria with all of the chatter, all of the Hellfire boys were concerned for their DM.

Sat massaging his temples he sighed, what was wrong with him? “Hey Eddie,” Dustin spoke. “What?” he said, voice quiet.

“Look,” the young boy spoke, motioning to the door.

There you were, making your way through the crowd of people, he could have burst in to tears then and there. Pushing up carefully he made his way over to you.

Engulfed by a hug, your eyes went wide, “Eddie?” you spoke softly, arms coming to wrap around him. “Missed you,” he said, nuzzling into your neck.

You were taken aback, Eddie wasn’t this affectionate in private, let alone public. “Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mm, just missed you. How was the appointment?” he pulled away, hands on your waist.

“It was fine,” you said simply, hand coming to touch his face, “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine.”

“Baby you’re sick.”

“No-“

“Eddie, don’t argue with me. We’re going home.”

“What? No, you only just got here, you’re gonna make me be all alone?” he whined.

“I said we, come on,” linking your fingers you went to the Hellfire lunch table, saying hi to the boys and picking up Eddies stuff.

“He’s not well, so I’m taking him home,” you explained. “I’m fine!” Shooting him a glare the boy quietened. “You’ve been ill all day man,” Gareth said.

“Why didn’t you go home?” you asked.

“I-I,” the boy stuttered, unable to give an answer, he knew what it was, but didn’t want to say in front of the guys.

“Come on let’s go.” You carried both yours and Eddies things, holding his hand also and led him out of the school. “Keys please,” you said.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re not driving like this, I’ll drive.”

“What about your car?”

“Dad dropped me off.” Eddie sighed, but complied, taking his keys out of his pocked and dropping them into your hand.

He climbed in the van slowly, instantly resting his head against the window. “What’s not feeling good?” you asked.

“Everything.”

“I think you’ve got the flu.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“Baby,” you sighed, as you put the keys in.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be sick, I’m gonna take care of you. Now do you want to go to mine or to the trailer?”

“Can we go home?”

“Sure baby,” you said, brushing his curls gently before beginning the drive. The boys head rested against the cool window for the entirety of the drive, eyes closed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Eddie,” you whispered, “Baby we’re home.” Eyes fluttering open, you were back at the trailer, the boy winced once more at the light. “Come on, let’s get you in.”

Eddie moved slowly, his whole body sore, heavy. He felt like he would fall if he didn’t sit down soon. Your arm wrapped around his middle, helping him, you saw him sway on his feet.

Pushing open the door, you spoke to Eddie softly, “You go get into something comfy, I’m going to talk to Wayne.” He whined, trying to keep you close to him. “It’s okay baby, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He huffed, slowly making his way to his room, hands on the wall the whole way to support him. “Eddie, what did I tell you about skipping- oh hello Honey,” Wayne Munson spoke, slightly confused with your presence.

“Is everything alright?” he questioned.

“Eddie has a fever so I brought him home, I was wondering if you’d mind me staying to look after him?”

“Our home is yours, you’re always welcome. I’ll find you some medication for him.”

Once you explained his headache, sensitivity to light and sluggishness, Wayne handed you some tablets and a glass of water. “This should help, keep his room dark too, and he’ll need to sweat out a fever.”

“Of course, thank you.”

“Thank you for looking after my boy,” he said, squeezing your shoulder, before nodding and walking back to the couch to continue what he was doing before.

Pushing open Eddies door with your hip, you frowned at the sight before you. Clothes were dropped on the floor, his pyjama draw open. Eddie himself was lay under his quilt, the top his his curls the only indication that it was him.

“Baby, I’ve got some things to make you feel better,” you spoke softly, not wanting to hurt his head. He groaned as he moved from under the blanket, the sunlight attacking his skin.

“Hang on, let me get the curtains,” you said, placing the pills and water next to him, quickly pulling them closed. They weren’t the best, but they did make the room a bearable light for the boy.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as you got on the bed next to him, he took the medication with ease, sipping the water. “Why did you go to school if you felt bad?” you asked, playing with his hair.

“Wanted to see you,” he said, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Oh Eds,” you kissed his cheek. “Will you stay?”

“Of course I will, let me change.”

“Can we … um, can we,” he huffed, frustrated that he couldn’t get his words out. Sliding out of your jeans and top, you picked up Eddies hellfire shirt, allowing it to cover your skin.

You climbed under the covers next to him, “What baby?”

“Can we, if you want, could we cuddle?” Your heart melted at that, even though he was feeling horrible he still nervously twiddled his thumbs.

“Of course we can,” you smiled at him, shuffling down. He pulled you gently, so you could lay your head on his chest, “Your so warm,” he hummed.

Kissing his chest softly, you smiled up at him, snuggling into his hold. “I’m sorry we don’t do this much I just … it’s hard, but I really like being like this with you.”

“Eds-“

“I just don’t ever want you to think that I’m just with you for sex or just for the sake of having a partner. I love being close with you.”

“I love it too,” pressing another gentle kiss to skin, this time his chin. “You’re gonna get sick,” he said.

“That’s okay, you can look after me then.”

“That I can do, be ready for a solid week of cuddles.”

“Whatever will I do?” you laughed. The boy hummed, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry you’re not very well.”

“It was worse when you weren’t there, I feel so much better now.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, I love being with you. I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too.”

In sync your faces broke into smiles, before Eddie winced, his head still sore. “Rest baby,” you said softly, “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

A/N : I kind of want to write another instalment of Margot, let me know if you’d be interested 🫶🏻

Please leave any requests 🤍

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #joesph quinn #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joesph quinn imagine #strsnger things #fluff #imagine #oneshot #louloulemons

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Eddie doesn’t sleep until the small hours of the morning. Mostly, he spends the night going over and over things in his head, wondering at everything he’d somehow misread.

The way Steve had always stayed after they had sex. The way he’d curled close to Eddie, showering him with soft touches and affection well after he’d technically needed to. The way Steve had started cooking dinner; trying out new, fancy-sounding recipes and trying to make it special, even when it was just the two of them. The way Steve had brought Eddie fucking flowers once, and had met his skeptical look with a shrug, saying that he figured maybe no one had ever bothered to bring Eddie flowers, and “Everyone deserves to get them once in a while.”

(The way Eddie had encouraged Steve to stay, had eaten up every bit of affection and hungered for more, had nudged playfully at Steve’s feet under the table while they ate, had kept those flowers well past death and still has one pressed between the pages of a notebook.)

It had all been there, so plain that even his bandmates had seen it, but Eddie – Eddie hadn’t let himself consider for a moment that it was something he could have. And now, because he’d told himself he couldn’t have something like that, he doesn’t get to.

A self-fulfilling fucking prophesy.

He finally falls asleep, miserable and alone in his bed for the first time in weeks, and wakes to someone banging on the front door.

Full rays of sunlight are streaming through Eddie’s window, and a quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s a lot later in the morning than he’d anticipated Steve showing up to get his things. One of the few complaints Eddie has (had) about sleeping with Steve is his chronic and apparently incurable early-riserism, but it’s past eleven a.m.

It’s late enough, in fact, that Wayne has probably come home and is trying to sleep, so Eddie rolls out of bed to get to the door before the knocking wakes Wayne.

Shedding his own sleepy haze as he jogs for the door, it occurs to Eddie that Steve knows Wayne’s work schedule and that, no matter how pissed he is, he wouldn’t be petty enough to take it out on Wayne.

So then who–

Eddie pulls the door open, interrupting his visitor mid-knock, to reveal the scowling face of Robin Buckley.

–ah.

Well, Eddie can’t say he hadn’t been expecting her, but he’d sort of assumed she would come with Steve attached. He glances out towards the driveway and sees only his van, Wayne’s truck, and Robin’s bike.

“He’s not here,” Robin says, curt and sharp. “I just came to get some of his stuff.”

That, Eddie hadn’t been expecting. He knows he fucked up, he knows Steve is hurt, but so much so that he’s outright avoiding Eddie? Eddie doesn’t think there’s ever been a conflict that Steve hasn’t met head-on, and he hadn’t expected this to be an exception.

All the same, he steps aside to let Robin in, prepared to fetch whatever she needs. He’d spent part of the night wondering whether he should gather Steve’s stuff up to make it easier for him, or if that would make it look like he was eager to have Steve out of his life; he’d eventually decided to just leave everything where it is.

“He said his migraine meds are here. And his spare glasses,” Robin says, and shit, that would explain where Steve is.

“How bad is it?” Eddie asks.

“Bad.” Robin answers shortly.

Eddie nods, gesturing for Robin to follow him back towards the bathroom.

He doesn’t know much about migraines, but he’s been learning. He knows most of Steve’s triggers (prolonged loud noise, heat, no sleep, stress) and he knows how to keep things dark and calm when one hits. He’s sat with Steve through a particularly bad attack, lying in bed with him, holding him carefully, watching tears stream out from beneath closed eyelids (not an emotional response so much as a physical reaction to the overwhelming pain) and feeling like his own eyes might well up, too, for the frustration of how useless he’d felt.

He directs Robin to the medicine cabinet and leaves her there while he heads back to his bedroom for Steve’s glasses. When he comes back, he sees Robin shoving some of Steve’s hair products into her backpack and feels a pang of upset somewhere in his chest. The shampoo had been one of the first pieces of Steve that had found permanent residence at Eddie’s place, sliding in next to his own soap after Steve had spent several mornings in a row complaining about not having his usual shit to shower with.

At the time, it had only made sense for Steve to have some toiletries there, since he stayed over so often. In retrospect, Eddie can see how it could have seemed like permission – and invitation. Welcoming. (And hell – hadn’t it been?)

Eddie hands Robin the glasses, and she tucks them carefully into a side pocket.

“I can’t stay away very long,” Robin says, voice crackling with banked anger, “so if you’re going to try to give me a reason not to come back later and kill you, make it snappy.”

(Make it snappy. Eddie almost wants to laugh, sort of wants to cry; it sounds exactly like the lame kind of turn of phrase Robin would have picked up from Steve.)

For all Eddie prides himself on his ability to improvise, on his extemporaneous speeches and infamous rants, he comes up empty. He’d spent all night wondering how he could have missed it all, why he hadn’t paid more attention, and he doesn’t even have an answer for himself, much less for Robin.

All he can really tell her is, “I didn’t know.”

“Oh, bullshit, you didn’t know!” Robin snaps, and Eddie rushes to quiet her. “Don’t you shush–”

“You can be pissed, just do it quietly,” Eddie hisses. “My uncle is asleep.”

The barest fraction of ire slips from Robin’s expression, and she jerks her head back towards the living area, following behind when Eddie goes.

“We both know Steve,” she says once they’re standing by the half wall that separates the kitchen from the living room, voice lower now but no less intense. “When he loves, he does it loud. Everyone else could see it from miles away, and it was right in your face. There is no way you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t–” Eddie drags a hand down his face in aggravated uncertainty as he tries to articulate. “I didn’t know it was an option!”

Robin’s eyes narrow, arms crossing over her chest as she regards him suspiciously. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that one, Munson.”

“I mean – I’ve hooked up with people before, and it… didn’t change anything. Sex is just sex, right? Sex with a stranger doesn’t make them less strange, sex with a bar buddy doesn’t magically make you closer, and I thought – with Steve, I just didn’t think it would – I just didn’t think,” Eddie admits. “I never thought he’d want to be more than my friend, I didn’t think he liked relationships, I figured what we had already was more than I could possibly have earned, so I just never even let it be an option. Practically fucking blinded myself, apparently. Just told myself it was ridiculous and… here we are.”

“That’s depressing as hell, first of all,” Robin says, tone still sharp, “but it’s not a good goddamn excuse. What the hell would you have even done differently if you’d thought it was an option?”

“Honestly?” Eddie gives a strained laugh, letting his head fall back and making his confession to the ceiling. “Probably the exact same fucking things, just– on purpose. Sooner. More. I would’ve… known, and I could’ve appreciated it.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when Eddie finally looks back down, Robin’s eyes are boring into him, startling in their intensity. It feels like she’s flaying him down past the bone, down to whatever the hell is at the core of him.

“Let me make this clear: I am not on your side. I will never be on your side if it comes down to you or Steve,” Robin says slowly, and Eddie only nods, because he knows that already. “Because, you know, I have never seen him happier than when he was with you – or when he thought he was with you, or whatever the fuck happened. But I have also never seen him more upset than he was last night, and I never want to see it again. You fucking crushed him, Eddie. You made him feel like he was stupid for seeing things that weren’t there, you treated everything the two of you did together like it meant nothing, you humiliated him in front of your friends–”

Eddie winces. “I didn’t mean–”

“I know,” Robin cuts in sharply. “If I thought you’d done any of that on purpose, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d probably already be crossing state lines to avoid murder charges. I know you didn’t mean to, but that’s not a fucking excuse. It still happened.”

“Okay, I know I fucked up. I know,” Eddie grinds out. “But you can’t get on my ass for not acknowledging a relationship I didn’t even know I was in. We never talked about it, okay?”

“It’s not about the relationship!” Robin only just keeps her voice to a hushed yell. “Should Steve have tried to talk to you seriously about it? Put a real label to it? Probably, yeah! But you–” she jabs a finger at him, “you didn’t pay any attention to him. You didn’t think about whether his feelings might change, you didn’t think about why he was acting differently around you, you didn’t think at all, you just took.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He wants to argue that Steve is an adult who can make his own decisions, who had made his own decision, and he certainly hadn’t started sleeping with Eddie blindly. He wants to say that Steve had known what it meant to fall into bed with him, but he’s starting to understand that maybe he’s the one who hadn’t realized what it meant to fall into bed with Steve.

“You took him for granted, and that’s– that’s the worst part in all of this. Even if you were in some bullshit friends with benefits arrangement, you’re still supposed to be friends, but you just–” Robin pauses, pursing her lips around a frown. “People don’t fight for Steve, you know that? They just– I don’t know why, but they don’t, and it makes me so fucking angry, because he just gives people everything, without even thinking about it. He makes loving people look so easy that they forget that it's not and they take it for granted. They don’t treat it like it’s something special to hold onto. And I didn’t think you would be on the list of people who let him down like that.”

Eddie sort of wishes Robin had just tried to hit him instead. It would hurt less.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to fix this,” he admits. “You can yell at me all you want, and I’ll deserve it, but that’s not going to make it better. It’s not gonna make me suddenly able to un-fuck everything up.”

“I’m yelling at you because I want you to understand exactly what you did,” Robin says. “Because he’s going to forgive you.”

“He’s– what?” Eddie asks brows furrowed.

“We both know he is. Of course he’s going to forgive you. He’s probably already halfway to convincing himself this was all his fault. I’m not saying he won’t be angry and hurt for a while, but– he’ll forgive you, and he’ll want to be your friend again,” Robin says, low and serious. “So, no, you can’t un-fuck up. But make sure you’re worth that forgiveness.”

Eddie isn’t sure what to say to that. He isn’t sure there is anything to say to that. But it seems like Robin is done with him anyway. She hikes her bag higher up on her shoulders and turns for the door.

“Hey,” he finally manages, and Robin turns back to cut an impatient look at him. “I can give you a ride back. If you want. Get the meds back to him faster.”

“I can get back just fine,” Robin says, pulling the door open and tossing one last shot back at him as she leaves. “You were fine dismissing him last night – why start caring now?”

The door bangs shut behind her, robbing Eddie of the chance to argue – and he would have, because he does. He fucking does care about Steve. And if Steve gives him the chance, Eddie is going to fucking prove it.

No one fights for Steve? Fine. Then Eddie’s going to start right now.

Part 4

-

Tags: @bushbees, @y0urnewstepp4r3nt

#steddie #platonic stobin #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #robin gets to be a little mean. as a treat :) #solar wrote #solar gave this series a name #which is unfortunate but we all have to live with it now

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Pairings: Eddie munson x fem!reader

Warning: spanking, a little touching. Reader is pretty bratty.

18+ minors dni

"Why you so upset with me, huh?" Eddie whispered against your neck

What. Kiss. Did. Kiss. I. Kiss. Do?" Each word he spoke followed with a kiss down your jaw and to your neck.

You let a shakey breath squirming under him.

"Y--you know what you did." You spoke softly. You desperately tried to act like you weren’t phased by what he was doing, but you were.

You can feel him smiling against your throat.

He hums before sucking gently on the sensitive skin right under your ear. "Someone need me to help them with their attitude?"

His breath tickled your neck, making you shiver.

Eddie traces his fingers slowly at the waistband of your panties. Inching his fingers in ever so carefully until they were dipping down to your entrance. Already soaked for him.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore his wandering hand but failing miserably.

"My girl is so upset today." He bit his lower lip to keep from laughing.

You're cute when angry but also hard to deal with. You either whined too much. Cried too much. Pouted too much. Talked back. The headaches you'd give your poor boyfriend sometimes were unbearable.

He licks a strip up your throat before biting it a little too hard.

"Tell me all about." He murmured against you. His lips still peppering gentle kisses down your throat.

You feel his fingers glide up in between your wet folds until they're pressing firmly on your aching clit. Your breath hitches when you feel him start to rub tight, slow circles.

"I--i don't wanna talk about it," you pout and stumble over your words.

He raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Well, I guess my fingers don't know how to work anymore, I guess." He teases with a long drawn out sigh.

You whined in response when you feel him stop touching you. Burying your face in his chest, mumbling away. Your thighs closing up tightly, trying to keep his hand in place.

"C'mon baby, talk to me." Eddie was practically begging. He coaxed, desperately wanting you to tell him why you're mad.

"No." You pouted some more.

He takes another deep sigh, snatching his hand from your panties. He moves to sit at the edge of the bed.

"C'mon baby." He waved his hand, signaling for you to get up.

You slowly crawl your way over to him.

"Across my lap, you know the rules."

"b-but." Your lip wobbles when you figured what he wants to do.

"No tears, let's get it over with." He sounds more annoyed than upset.

You move and lay across his lap the tips of your toes dancing on the floor. You know you should have just spoken up and told him what's been bothering you. You're too stubborn and stuck in your ways. Which have gotten you into some serious trouble in the past. Once again, it's done just that, and there is no backing out. No begging or pleading is going to save you now.

He smoothes a hand over the plush skin of your ass. "How does ten sound?"

You don't answer him right away. Tears already spilling down your face, making tiny puddles on the floor. He spanks you hard, grabbing your attention immediately. Your body jolting forward.

"Ten sounds good." You sniffle.

Bringing his hand back to soothe over your stinging bottom. He kept his rings on for this one. You know each strike of his hand is going to hurt much worse. "Shh, it'll be over before you know it."

"I don't wanna have to do this." Smack. "But you leave me no choice sometimes." Smack. He reprimanded you each time his hand connected to your cheeks. Your ass rippling from the impact.

You don't respond. You listen and accept your punishment and hope he takes some mercy on you. The metal of his rings intensified each swat that connected to your skin.

By the time he was done, your legs were trembling, and your face stained with tears.

"Wanna talk about it now?" He spoke softly, bringing your face to look at him so he can wipe away your tears.

"NO!" You shove yourself off him to stand, almost falling back over his lap. You're still upset. Still very pissed off, especially now.

Your ass all the way down to your thighs burns. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. There was an uncomfortable ache between your legs where he left you unsatisfied.

"I guess ten just wasn't enough." Eddie groaned pincing the bridge of nose trying to keep his cool. "I think I need to do something else to help you with that attitude."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader

[xoxoladyaz]

You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops). 

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband – 

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and – 

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute – 

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and – 

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD – 

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ” 

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT - 

“I missed you too, Eds.” 

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room. 

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!” 

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve. 

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?” 

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could – 

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation. 

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.) 

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

#it's me I'm the girl who fainted and broke her nose at work #I told the doctor hey at least I've finally broken a bone and he said it didn't count #which is honestly super rude so fuck you doctor jones #anyways #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie fic #paramedic Steve harrington #rock star Eddie munson #yes Eddie knows my fair lady #Steve forgetting both Superman and Gollum #trigger warning: brenda #also I took a weed hard candy while I wrote this so if the grammar is weird whoopsie I'll fix it later #Chris Hemsworth is for the lesbians

[ashwhowrites]

I hath come bearing a request:

Bully!Eddie with an insecure Reader where he openly flirts with someone else where she can see in an effort to make her jealous, and it does. She is jealous of the nicer version of his attention they’re receiving, but she’s more sad than anything else.

She’d started to think that maybe he did pick on her because he was interested. Like how boys would pull a girl’s hair back in elementary school. But after seeing him flirt with someone else, she realizes that can’t be the case.

Reader supposes that no one wants her. Even the “freak” of Hawkins High is beyond her league.

Happy ending if you can, pretty please 🩷

I'm usually against bully!Eddie but I did like the angst in this so I'm going to do it but he won't be like a huge bully, just an ass? I hope this is what you were looking for and I tried to make it happy :) ( with the help from my SB)

Never proofread

There's a time in life where the line between love and hate is blurry and no amount of staring at that line will make it clear.

Y/N was on the love side, she had big feelings for Eddie. Her nose in the air as she follows the scent of his strong musky cologne and a hint of weed. She couldn't pick who she fell for, it was out of her control. She didn't want to love him, but she did. She had so many reasons why she loved him but there was one big reason why she shouldn't- he hated her.

Eddie was on the hate side of that line. She can't pin point where she pissed him off or what she did to make him hate her. It was like the second they met, he pushed her and she fell in love. She's an idiot and she knew that. It was obvious he didn't like her. The rude comments sent her way about all the little things she does. He teased her, tripped her, smacked her books in the hallway, but all her heart focused on was that he interacted with her.

Her dumb heart craved to be near him, even though her brain was screaming how horrible of an idea it was.

She already suffered with insecurities and somehow Eddie knew how to hit all the open wounds.

A part of her thought maybe he did like her, he just wasn't sure how to show it. He didn't seem like the type to be affectionate and sweet. Maybe this was the only way he knew how to show his emotions. Or maybe that was a shitty delusion she created to help her sleep at night.

~~~

Y/N heard from other students that there was going to be a partner project in English and she hated that she knew no one in that class, except Eddie.

She knew if she asked he'd shut her down and embarrass her in front of everyone watching so she planned to do this project alone. But turns out the teacher already assigned partners.

"Y/N and Eddie"

Y/N perked at the sound of their names, her eyes finding his body. He had an annoyed expression on his face. She felt her heart drop, he didn't want to be near her.

"Excuse me?" Eddie announced, throwing his hand in the air. The teacher rolled his eyes but allowed Eddie to speak.

"what If I can't stand my partner and rather fail the project than spend a second with her?" His words were cruel and mean. She hated the smirk on his face when looked over at her.

The whole class erupted in laughs, with a few pity looks sent her way. She couldn't tell which hurt worse, people laughing or people feeling bad for her. She shrunk down in her seat, Eddie once again embarrassed her for his own pleasure.

"Munson. Watch your mouth." The teacher talked over the class.

Against his will, Eddie accepted that she was his partner. Her head down as she walked over to his desk. Holding her breath as she took the seat next to him.

"I'm sorry you got partnered with me " she whispered, looking at his eyes as he glared at her.

"You should be." He snapped.

~~~

Being his partner was just as miserable as she thought. Every time she sat in that English class next to him, he shared every thought he had about her. He never had anything nice to say.

"Yellow is not your color." He said in disgust as she sat next to him, in her new yellow sundress. A dress that had her smiling all morning. Now the material against her thighs made her sick to her stomach.

Then the project moved to her house. Apparently, her room was not to his liking.

"Books? Fucking nerd. People with lives don't have time to read." He snickered

She just shrugged it off.

"you know you might be pretty if you actually tried." He mocked, looking through the book, his eyes never looking at her.

....might be pretty

If she changed, would he like her?

If she changed everything he hated, would he have anything left to say?

~~~

They've been working on the project for a few days. Every day she changed little by little. She threw the yellow dress in her trash. She packed away the books she barely read. Tore off every girly poster on her wall and removed all the things he pointed out on her desk. She styled her hair every day, and learned how to do make up that would show she "tried" every day.

And he never said anything

Just found new things to hate about her.

She was starting to wonder why he hadn't run out of anything yet. He somehow found something wrong about her every single day. Things she didn't think she would dislike about herself.

But he noticed everything about her, that means he liked her, right?

~~~

He didn't like her

It was apparent now

It was the final day in class to work on the project, and the whole hour was spent watching Eddie and a random girl flirt.

Her name was Brie, and Eddie seemed to really like her.

He was.....nice

His eyes were soft, never glaring at her.

He complimented her. On her hair, outfit, makeup, and personality.

Paying no attention to the project they need to work on. He was all focused on her and how perfect she was.

If Eddie ever liked her, he would treat her the same way he was treating Brie.

The line between love and hate was not as blurry as she thought.

~~~

Watching Eddie flirt with Brie today was not how she wanted her day to go, and now she had to end her day with Eddie.

She sat silently on her bed as he made his way through the bedroom door. She wanted to finish the project and never spend another second near him again.

But Eddie looked around her room confused, and walked over to each corner.

"What?" She snapped, guessing he was taking in her room to find something else wrong with it.

"Where are all your books?" He found himself asking.

Y/N was annoyed by the question.

"None of your business, Can we work now?" Her attitude was noticeable in her tone.

Eddie swallowed and sat next to her, beginning to work on the project. Yanking the notebook paper too hard, ripping the piece in half.

He quickly crumpled it up and went to throw it in the trash, spotting the familiar yellow dress in it.

"Why did you throw this away?" He asked, taking the dress out, nothing else was in the trash so it was untouched.

She looked up, her eyes turning hard when she spotted the color. She hated that his eyes seemed guilty. He wasn't sorry.

"Who cares, it didn't look good on me so I don't need it. Look can we work or not? We already missed an hour because of your little date with Brie this afternoon." His constant interruptions were driving her crazy.

She watched Eddie drop the dress on her desk, a smirk growing on his face.

"Jealous of the pretty girl?" He mocked. His eyes switched back to that teasing look.

She rolled her eyes and put her focus on the project. But Eddie didn't appreciate the silence. Walking up to her as she sat on the bed.

"I asked you," he said, gripping her chin to look up at him, "Were you jealous of her?"

She wanted to smack the smug look off of his face.

She yanked her jaw out of his grip, slamming the book as she stood up. Chest to chest with him as she huffed.

"YES! I am fucking jealous. But not because she's pretty and she knows how to capture your attention. But because you were so nice to her. You didn't pick her apart until she was a tiny shell of a person! I just thought maybe you picked on me because you liked me, but I can see I thought wrong." She ranted out, catching her breath at the end as Eddie stared at her. He slowly blinked as he took in her words.

"I threw away the dress because all it did was remind me how much you fucking hated it. I got rid of the books because you made fun of my interests. You made me hate the remaining parts of myself that I actually liked." She continued, her eyes filling with water.

Eddie didn't know what to say, but the regret was clear in his eyes as he looked at her sadly. He figured he should start with an apology.

"Y/N...I am so sorry...I'm sorry." He whispered, reaching forward to wipe her tears but she stepped back. Protecting herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Just go." She whispered back, keeping her focus on the floor.

"Please let me f-" He started but she caught him off.

"Eddie, I don't care what else you have to say. I am done talking to you. Please just go."

~~~

She dreaded going to school. Eddie left last night when she asked, and she's been terrified to see him again. She didn't bother to believe his apology, there was a good chance he didn't mean it.

She stayed up all night finishing the project, she did not want to work with him again.

She was walking to class, eyes on the floor as she always does. She grew more and more nervous as she made it closer to English. Preparing herself to see Eddie again.

Before she knew it, she felt her body being shoved to the ground. She didn't have time to catch herself and smacked her nose against the floor. She gasped at the horrible pain that shot through her nose, cradling it softly. She could feel her hands getting wet from blood. She looked up, expecting it to be Eddie, but it wasn't. It was someone who bullied people to an extreme amount, Jason.

She felt the tears flowing down her face. Crying from the pain in her nose and the embarrassment running through her body as everyone laughed and stared.

"HEY!" she heard Eddie's familiar scream. Her body froze as he raced towards her. Fear in his veins as she worried about what he would add to her suffering.

His eyes looked over her frame, glaring once he spotted the blood leaking through the cracks of her fingers. The familiar dangerous look in his eyes almost had her apologizing for nothing at all. But then he turned, right fist clenched as he knocked Jason straight to the floor.

The crowd gasped and moved closer. Silent for a small minute before another punch landed on Jason's face. Once the students caught a sight of blood coming out of Jason's nose, the crowd began to scream, encouraging the violence in front of them.

She didn't understand why Eddie was beating the hell out of Jason, and not joining him. She used the distraction to get up and race to the nurse. Running as fast as she could away from the crowd that was focused on the new fight at hand.

"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HER!"

The anger in Eddie's voice almost made her turn, almost made her feel protected, almost made her feel safe...but just almost.

~~~

She sat in the nurses office, the bleeding stopped but she held the tissue to her nose just in case. Minutes later a fuming Eddie wandered in, his bloody knuckles caused the nurse to gasp and race for an ice pack in the back freezer, down the hall.

She tried to avoid looking at him. Praying if she didn't move a single muscle, he wouldn't see her.

"Are you okay?" The softness in his voice was something she never experienced. She made herself look at him, trying to see if that truly came out of his mouth.

She sat quietly, she still didn't want to talk to him.

"I'm sorry he did that to you." He said, the softness still lingering.

"mad because you couldn't do it first?" Okay, maybe she did want to talk to him. She wanted to snap at him, yell at him, make his life hell the way he did to her.

Eddie flinched at the blow. Her words stung worse than the cuts on his knuckles.

"Mad that I ever did it in the first place. You never deserved any of that." He admitted. He was ashamed of himself. " I grew up with bullies and I became one. And the worst part is I bullied the most beautiful girl on the planet that has a fucking heart of gold. I adored how fragile you were and I destroyed you with my bare hands. And the reason is so stupid and selfish." He ranted out. Wayne would be so disappointed in what Eddie has become.

She felt like screaming at herself, hating the way her heart skipped a beat when he called her beautiful.

"what was the reason?" She asked, her voice quiet as she took in his apologetic gaze.

"I used to like this girl and I thought she liked me too. We dated for months and it turned out to be a prank with her friends. I was so hurt and angry at myself for being so stupid. I promised myself to never waste time on liking a girl in high school ever again. Then you and your bubbly personality walked in and I was scared. I liked you instantly and I needed myself to hate you. I was selfish. I tore you apart just to make it easier for me. It's not something I ever think deserves forgiveness. I know it's so fucked up to take out on you. You were just an innocent girl and I hate what I did to you."

She took in his words. The emotion in his eyes told her he meant all of it. But at the same time, he was right. She didn't deserve a single thing he did to her. She never once hurt him or put him in a position where he needed to protect himself.

"You never even gave me a chance, Eddie. Why couldn't you just ignore me? Seems like us never talking would have been better for both of us." She wished more than anything she never gave him her time. Let his opinions change the way she felt about herself.

"I wanted to, but in some twisted and toxic way, it made me feel special? I could treat you so poorly and you'd still come running up to me. And I know that is such an asshole thing to say. I wish I could take it all back. Treat you the way you always should have been treated. Given you a chance to show me you wouldn't hurt me. But I caused all of this damage and I know it's something I'll never fix. I'm sorry for everything." He apologized

" I appreciate the apology, but I don't forgive you for shit. You are an asshole, incredibly selfish, treated me like shit all because you were scared of a little crush? You're pathetic." Eddie winced at her words. "But, it shows you are flawed and human. Right now, I really don't want to be near you. Maybe in time I'll find it in me to forgive you, just not today."

He respected her honesty above anything.

"I understand. Thank you for letting me explain." He said with a small smile, turning around to walk out into the hallway.

Before he made it out of the doorway she spoke up, "why did you stop him?"

"No one gets to bully my girl but me." He said, a smirk on his face, throwing her a wink before he disappeared out the door.

God she hated him.

~~~

I could not figure out a real "happy" ending but to me, I like this ending so I'm sorry if you read this whole thing and was very disappointed in the ending :(

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingwicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #bully!eddie x reader #bully!eddie munson #ashwhowrites

[steveshairychest]

5 years he's been in hiding.

5 miserable years he's had to go by a different name, wear different clothes and tell a different story to everyone he meets. He's been James, Frank, he thinks he even went by Dustin at one point. He's had long hair, short hair, he's been bald. He had a beard for a while and taught music in a small music store, but he shaved it off after a week because all he saw in the mirror was Wayne, his uncle, his family, the man he abandoned.

For 5 years, he's been everyone but Eddie Munson.

The government told him he couldn't be Eddie anymore.

"Eddie Munson is dead." They told him; they even had the death certificate to prove it. "Don't come back to Hawkins. Keep moving. There are still people looking for you." Was the last thing they said to him before dropping him off with a wad of cash in some town he's never been to before.

He'd asked for the date at the front desk of a motel, and they'd told him April 20th. Eddie had crumbled down to his knees and cried, he'd cried so hard the motel clerk asked if she should call someone, asked if he was alright.

"I'm fine." Was his broken reply. He'd taken the key for his room, curled up on the uncomfortable bed, and didn’t move for days. He wasn't alright. He'd been in a government hospital for what he thought was a few days but was actually over a month and then released into the world like some rehabilitated animal. He didn't get to say goodbye to anyone. Fuck, he didn't even know if they all made it out of the upside down. All he knew was that he was alone. And that he couldn't go home. Ever.

He'd eventually gotten over himself and made some kind of life for himself.

It took him a few tries to find something that stuck, something that felt sort of like himself. Every few months, an ungodly amount of money appears in his bank account. The formal bank statement says it's from an estranged relative. Eddie knows it's not. He knows it's the government's way of buying his silence. His expensive rent and struggle to find a job is the only reason he doesn't send it all back to them.

He's lived in his current place for a year now, which is a new record for him, but he's got no friends. Well, he has acquaintances, people he can laugh with every now and then and go out for drinks with, but no one who knows him. No one who knows why he wakes every night screaming, no one who understands why he flinches when the lights in the bar flicker, why he hates the sound of people cracking their knuckles and why his hands shake whenever anyone mentions the scar on his face.

It's late at night when he's covered in sweat and his throat is raw from screaming awake from a nightmare, that he really misses his friends, his family, the people that he went through hell with. He's not allowed to call them, not allowed to send them letters or visit. He's not even allowed to know how Wayne is doing. It hurts. It hurts so much. He can't even look at himself in the mirror anymore because he's aged, and he's slowly starting to look more and more like his uncle.

But his friends are a little harder to escape, it's like parts of them have found him and are trying to haunt him, trying to remind him that he can't be a part of their lives.

Just last week, he walked by a book store and saw a brand new fantasy graphic novel on display in the window, 'written by Mike Wheeler & illustrated by Will Byers' was displayed on the bottom of the cover in gold letters. He's never bought a book so fast in his life. He's read it front to back 3 times already.

He can't even watch the news in peace because they were doing a news story about a small town basketball player who's made it to the big leagues and is winning everyone's hearts with his skills and bright personality. Eddie had cried and wished he'd been there to congratulate Lucas, wished he could have been there to tell him how proud he was.

Even Nancy is haunting him. Her news articles get delivered to his front door every day in the paper and most of the time the articles aren't even sad, but he cries at his small dining table alone, his breakfast cold and his coffee filled with his tears.

He misses his friends. He misses them so much and it's eating him alive. It feels like he's lying on the ground of the upside down all over again, tiny little mouths ripping away at his flesh except this time it's happening from the inside. Each time he's reminded how far away he is from his friends, a small piece of him is eaten away.

He doesn't know how much more he can take.

And then something odd happens. He gets a postcard and it's addressed to him, the real him; Eddie Munson.

The handwriting is hard to read and some words have been crossed out but the name signed at the bottom of the card pulls a sob from Eddie's throat and has him almost crumbling on his doorstep.

I'm sorry I took so long. I'll see you soon.

From Steve Harrington.

#Steve moneybags Harrington would hire a private investigator to find eddie #none of them believed for a second that eddie was dead #I DONT RWALLY KNOW I JUST LET MY BRAIN SPEW UP WHATVER WORDS IT WANTED #stranger things #eddie munson #st4 vol2 #steddie #stranger things s4

[scoops-stevie-archive]

ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

#cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #ftm steve #ftm steve harrington #trans steve harrington #wrote this on tuesday when i started my period and was feeling like shit #now it's saturday and my period is over #cj talks

[oneforthemunny]

christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.

apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!

contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.

Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm. 

It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came. 

In fact, it felt colder in the house. 

In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt. 

Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you. 

“We always spend Christmas with my family.” 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!” 

Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again. 

“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.” 

“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-” 

“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-” 

“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!” 

The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently. 

He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore. 

“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you. 

“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear. 

“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle. 

“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse. 

Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone. 

Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body. 

Then he was alone. 

Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone. 

The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him. 

If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had. 

Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried. 

It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it. 

He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas. 

Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.” 

Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it. 

Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November. 

The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad. 

Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty. 

A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose. 

Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was. 

Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears. 

As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice. 

“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.” 

You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out. 

“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.

“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips. 

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?” 

“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you. 

“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.” 

His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.

 “I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?” 

Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.” 

Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-” 

“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.” 

“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly. 

Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable. 

Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again. 

“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly. 

“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.” 

You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.” 

The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again. 

A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.” 

The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move. 

“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.” 

“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.” 

A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.” 

“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again. 

The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything. 

Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you. 

The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial. 

The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered. 

“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…” 

“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.” 

You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck. 

“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night. 

Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?” 

He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments. 

Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.” 

Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.” 

Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights. 

“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-” 

“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.” 

Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.” 

“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.” 

So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine. 

In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true. 

Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.” 

“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really. 

“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary. 

“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension. 

He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him. 

That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was. 

#oneforthemunny #munny’s merriest #munnysholidays #munnysmerriest #cowboy!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson x reader #cowboy!eddie munson angst #cowboy!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #wayne munson #eddie stranger things #eddie my love <3 #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson au #cowboy!eddie munson x reader angst #oneforthemunny blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson christmas

[steddie-island]

Maybe it's not so obvious

@steddiemas day 16 - Angst themed sentence starters | WC: 996 | Rating: M (for language) | CW for light angst See full list of tags on ao3

“Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.” 

Steve looked like he’d been kicked, and Eddie regretted his words immediately. Still, he had to put how he felt out there. He had to let Steve know that he was doing a terrible goddamn job of concealing the fact that he was miserable here. “Stop looking at me like that, like I just grew a second head. It’s true, and you know it.” 

“No it isn’t.” Steve was still frowning, and Eddie had the urge to reach out and smooth a thumb over his brow. He was going to get wrinkles if he kept doing that– not that Eddie had a problem with that, but the hundreds of dollars of skincare shit in Steve’s bathroom probably didn’t appreciate him making the problem worse. Eddie shifted where he stood and carefully made his way past the boxes of Christmas decorations scattered around the living room. The crutches made it easier for him to get around, but he’d proven a few times now that he could still fall while he was using them. “Just– stop lying, Steve. I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting, man. You– you’ve barely touched me, you won’t look at me. Just– stop pretending, all right? Do us both a favor and– go.” He fell onto the couch with a grunt, spent several long moments getting comfortable before he finally looked up at Steve.

Steve, whose eyes were wide and wet. “Eddie, you don’t– you don’t really think I don’t want to be here, do you?” he asked quietly.

“I’m pretty goddamn sure I just made it obvious that I know you don’t want to be,” he said. His voice was soft, despite the heat he meant to be behind his words. “You don’t want to be here, and maybe– maybe I don’t want you here, either.” Lie. That was a lie. Eddie wanted Steve here so bad that it made him ache, which made Steve’s wanting to be gone so bad hurt that much more. 

“You don’t… want me here?” Steve whispered. It was different if Eddie thought he didn’t want to be here, but if Eddie didn’t want him here… 

Eddie couldn’t answer, though, was suddenly very interested in the hole in the knee of his jeans. He’d barely gotten the lie out once, if Steve poked and prodded it was all going to come spilling out. 

“Eddie.” Steve took a second to move two boxes of decorations out of the way so Eddie could get around better later– always so goddamn thoughtful, even when he was being yelled at. “Eddie. Do… do you really not want me here?”

Eddie made a soft sound but didn’t look away from his knee. Why would Steve want to be here? Why would Steve choose to be in their shitty government bought trailer– which was less shitty than the trailer they’d lived in before, to be sure, but it was still a shitty trailer. Why would he want to be with Eddie when he had that big beautiful house, that he was sure was just dripping with decorations put up by some overpriced professional who carried a fucking chihuahua in her purse, even here in fucking Hawkins. His parents might not be there, but he could have Robin there, and the kids. Steve had no fucking reason to want to be here. With him. 

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was small, quiet, and when Eddie looked over at him and saw the hurt on his face, he wanted to kick his own ass. 

“C’mon, Steve. I mean– why would you want to be here?” he asked, voicing some of his feelings finally. “I’ve seen you. The last few days you’ve walked around looking like you want to puke. I touch you, you pull away like you can catch something from me. If you’re tired of me–” He was cut off with a kiss, with Steve simultaneously pulling him in and surging forward himself, until their lips met in a kiss that was messy and clumsy. 

It certainly did the job, though, and when they broke apart Eddie’s eyes were wide. 

“I didn’t realize– I wasn’t trying to tell you that I don’t want to be here.” Steve swallowed hard. “I’ve been– trying not to let it out that I’m– these past few months, since you got out of the hospital… they’ve meant the world to me. Getting to know you, and your uncle… Fuck, Eddie. How could I want to be anywhere but here with you?” He swallowed. “I’ve been trying not to be a creep. I mean– I’ve helped you in the bath. What kind of pervert does that make me? And then the other day– you made a joke about mistletoe and I let myself hope for just a moment that maybe you could want me, too, but if you don’t–”

It was Steve’s turn to get cut off as Eddie gripped the lapels of his stupid fucking polo and pulled him in close. This kiss was clumsy, too, but as Steve wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and slipped closer, as Eddie leaned back into the corner of the couch and pulled Steve into his lap, it melted into something better, something warm and soft and so fucking tender. 

“I want you here,” Eddie whispered. “I’ve wanted you here the whole time, Stevie baby.”

“And I want to be here,” Steve murmured back. He lifted a hand to comb through Eddie’s hair, like he’d done a dozen times before, only this time he wasn’t just trying to help Eddie keep it untangled after a bath. “I’ve wanted to be here the whole time. Since before you woke up.” 

“I’m a fucking idiot.” Eddie shook his head and pulled Steve closer, until the other boy was practically lying on top of him. “Forgive me?” Steve bumped their noses together. “Only if you kiss me again.”

Eddie grinned, and was more than happy to comply. 

#Steddiemas #Steddie fic #Steddie ficlet #Steddie #Steddie drabble #Steve x Eddie #Holiday drabble #My fic #My writing

[formosusiniquis]

any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

#steddie #established steddie #fruity four #my fic #steve harrington #platonic stobin #this is not a modern au these are some middle aged adults now #it is 2001 and my dudes have to carefully schedule their hangouts #anyway i think steve the hair harrington would also make the elle woods solve #theyre the same flavor of autistic if were dipping into some personal hcs but thats not important #what is important is steve has the oh he did it accidentally predicts the bad guy of every movie ever nd skill #love that for him #unimportant to the narrative but lucy is definitely the steddie bio kid this is a transmasc eddie fic secretly #so anyway enjoy this barely edited ficlet i churned out in an hour

[steddiewithachance]

"Likewise"

(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)

Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie

Read on ao3 here

*

Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.

Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.

This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"

And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.

Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.

It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.

Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.

"Steve." He hears in response.

When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.

"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.

"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.

"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.

Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.

Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.

"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.

"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"

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

1977

When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.

He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.

He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.

Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.

"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.

"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.

"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."

"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"

"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.

"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.

"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.

Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.

Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.

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

"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.

"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."

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

"Hi Paul."

"Hey kid."

Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.

"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."

Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"

"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.

"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.

"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.

"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"

And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.

"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.

"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.

"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.

"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.

Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.

"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.

*

Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.

Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.

"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.

"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"

Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.

"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.

"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.

*

It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.

Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.

Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.

"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."

"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.

"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.

"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."

The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.

Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.

"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.

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

"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.

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

"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.

Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.

"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.

The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.

*

Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.

"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.

And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.

"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.

"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.

"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.

"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.

"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.

He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.

"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.

Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.

Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.

"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.

"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Down the hall to your left."

*

When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.

"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.

"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.

"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.

"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.

"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"

"No! I don't want to take your bed-"

"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.

"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.

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

"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.

"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.

"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."

"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.

"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"

"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.

"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.

"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.

"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.

"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.

"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"

Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.

"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.

"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.

"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."

"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #uncle wayne #wayne munson #wayne munson is a good parent #steddie fluff #steddie fic rec #steddie microfic

[corroded-hellfire]

Jitters - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: It's the first day of school for the Munson children--ever for Eliza, but their dad is being the biggest baby of them all.

Note: With all the back-to-school excitement going on I thought, "What would Eddie be like when Eliza first starts school?" So, voila. As always, I am so thankful for all of you who read and have the loveliest things to say 💕

Words: 3.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

If someone were to take bets on which Munson is the most miserable on the first day of school, they might pick Ryan. Sixteen years old, starting his junior year, and seemingly irritated by every move someone makes. 

They might pick fourteen-year-old Luke, the Tasmanian Devil himself, constantly lamenting about how boring his teachers are. 

Or they might pick Eliza, no longer getting to be the big fish in the daycare’s small pond, but now a full-fledged preschooler—one who is not happy about getting up early. 

Any of these would be fine guesses. But they would also be dead wrong. 

“My babies are all grown up!” Eddie bemoans, watching Eliza slide a comically oversized Little Mermaid backpack over her tiny shoulders. He stares at his sons as they shove their feet into their new sneakers, conveniently ignoring the repeated warnings not to break their shoes. 

Ryan catches his dad looking at them and rolls his eyes. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he quips, groaning when Eddie dashes into the bedroom to grab his camera. “Crap, I didn’t mean literally.”

“Swear jar!” Luke chirps, all-too excited to catch his big brother slipping up. 

“‘Crap’ isn’t a swear word, dumbass.”

“Another dollar in the swear jar!” Luke roars, nearly colliding with the wall as he darts away from Ryan before the elder boy can get his hands on him. 

You give the two boys a biting glare from across the room. If you can't keep them from using bad language all the time, they at least need to adhere to the rule when their little sister is in the room. Luckily, Eliza is currently admiring her new black Mary Jane shoes and was paying no mind to what was happening around her. 

Before Ryan and Luke can start bickering again, you herd them over to the side of the living room where the lighting is the best for pictures. 

“Come on, come on,” you say as you practically push them across the space. “Dad’s getting the camera, let’s get this show on the road.” 

Ryan groans and drops his head back in irritation. “Can’t you just take some of Eliza? You have enough of us.”

“We never have enough of you,” you tell him, moving towards him on instinct to press a kiss to the top of his head—only to come face to face with the reminder that he’s taller than you now. “Eliza, come on over here, baby girl.”

Eliza looks up from where she’s now inspecting the pink overall dress she’s wearing. Her two curly little pigtails bounce with every motion. She hikes up her green sparkly princess backpack as she skips towards you. She becomes derailed, however, when Eddie walks back into the room. Eliza diverts her attention and makes a not-quite-a-surprise attack on his legs.

“Rawr! Gotchu Daddy!”

“Oh no!” Eddie feigns, clasping the camera to his chest. “I guess I can’t take you to preschool then, huh? Such a shame.”

“Nice try,” you tell him. “She’s still going.” 

Eddie’s brows furrow together in another one of the little pouts he’s been giving you for the past few days. He thinks his baby girl is growing up too fast—does he think you don’t feel the same way? You just don’t show your emotions as expressively as your husband does. 

“She’s only three,” Eddie says about your daughter. “Shouldn’t we wait until she’s at least four?”

“She’ll be four next month, Eddie,” you remind him. “This is when she’s supposed to start preschool.” 

The sullen father has nothing to say in response to that, so he just looks down at the camera and fiddles with it, making sure there’s enough film and that it’s on the right settings. You take the opportunity to walk over towards Ryan.

“Was he this bad when Luke started school?” you ask in a hushed voice. 

Ryan considers it for a moment before shrugging. “In my childhood mind, no. But I also used to believe it when Dad told me I’d look like Popeye if I ate my spinach, so who knows?”

“I can only imagine how he was with you.” With a small smirk, you grab Ryan’s arms and give him a small shake from side to side. “His first born,” you coo in a sickeningly sweet tone. Ryan shoos you away from him, but you can see the smile on his face that he’s trying his damndest to hide. 

In the meantime, Luke grabs a Kleenex box from the kitchen counter, lowering onto bended knee and presenting it to Eddie. 

“A gift for thou, Sir Sobs-a-Lot,” he says, adopting an exaggerated British accent. 

Eddie thumps him on the back of the head, but takes a tissue regardless. 

“Wayne always said I’d be screwed if my kids were as weird as me,” he muses. 

“Dad,” Luke fake-whines, “don’t say that about Eliza!”

Eliza furrows her little eyebrows and makes a run for her brother, charging towards him like a provoked rhinoceros. 

Luke is quicker, though, and holds her prisoner against his chest with a menacing cackle.  

“Mean brother,” Eliza mumbles, face smushed against him. 

He grins triumphantly. “That’s why you love me so much.” He presses a big smacking kiss to her cheek and lets her go, gasping in feigned offense when she wipes it away and wanders back to Eddie.

“Time for school! Let’s gooooooo, Daddy!” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door, equal parts eager and exasperated. 

Eddie obliges, but you can tell that this isn’t easy for him. “Why is she so eager to leave?” he asks you under his breath. “Ryan and Luke were practically wrapped around my ankles begging me to let them stay home.”

“I think she’s just excited to meet new friends and learn new things!” you say with a smile, trying to hold back your own tears. “Isn’t that right, Liza Bean?”

Eliza nods vigorously. “Luke says I get Play-Doh!”

“Remember,” Luke crouches down to tell her, “it’s important that you taste the Play-Doh before you use it.”

The comment earns him another thump to the head from Eddie. 

“Please don’t eat Play-Doh,” you beg your daughter. Or listen to anything Luke says, you silently add. 

“Yeah, just stick to your lunch,” Ryan offers, always the voice of reason. 

“Lots of fruits and veggies,” Luke jumps in. “Remember why?”

“SCURVY!” Eliza proudly shouts, beaming from ear to ear. 

Eddie exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose, at a total loss for words. “Can you crazy children just take the pictures so we can go?” he finally manages, patience sufficiently worn thin. 

“Sir, yes, sir!” the boys salute in unison. 

“Yes, sir!” Eliza chimes in, happy to emulate her big brothers. 

You take the camera from Eddie when you see his jaw clench. You’d been afraid of your daughter having a meltdown today, but you obviously should have been worrying about her dad. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding for them to arrange themselves in front of the wall for a picture, “all three of you, first.” 

Begrudgingly on the part of the teenagers, and happily on the part of the little girl exiting toddlerhood, they come together and manage to stand still while you grab a few shots of them.

“Now just Ryan, then Luke, then Liza,” you instruct. Ryan rolls his eyes as his two younger siblings step away from him.

“This is never going to end,” he mumbles. 

Figuring it’s just easier to ignore him, you get your pictures of Ryan before moving on to solo Luke and then Eliza. “Now get in there, Dad,” you tell Eddie, gesturing him over to join the kids.

The moment Eddie is within reaching distance of her, Eliza raises her tiny arms to her father and insists that he holds her in the picture. Eddie, unable to deny her anything as always, complies. 

“Just me and Daddy!” Eliza says.

“Eliza’s will be done,” you say before snapping one of just the pair of them.

“All right, all right,” Luke says, motioning for you to give him the camera. “You get in there, too. We’ve got a monumental day here. Another Munson in the school system.”

As you pose next to your daughter and husband, you see Ryan out of the corner of your eye. He leans in behind you and holds up two fingers as bunny ears behind Eliza’s head. His little sister didn’t see him, but she was going to get a kick out of that once you got the pictures developed. Luke also noticed the photobomber, so he takes another nicer picture. 

“We ready to go now?” Luke asks. “Big day for me too, ya know. Starting high school and all. No one’s all fussy over me and I bet it’s because I don’t have pigtails. Damn.”

Eddie claps Luke on the shoulder as you take the camera from your son. “Didn’t wanna make ya nervous, kid,” Eddie says. “Also, dollar in the swear jar.”

Luke scoffs and presses a hand to his chest. “Have I ever been nervous a day in my life?” 

“Well,” Ryan starts with a smug smile, “that depends if you count the time that you got paired up with Missy Collins for that science project.”

Luke’s face turns pink and his nostrils flare. You’re almost taken aback because you think this is the most flustered you’ve ever seen the usually cool and mischievous boy. Luke goes from standing perfectly still to lunging toward his older brother in milliseconds. 

Ryan just lets out a whooping laugh and dodges him by heading outside. Luke is hot on his tail.

Eliza looks up at you and shakes her head, little brown pigtails swaying with the motion. 

“Boys,” she says, an air of sophistication older than her three years in her tone. 

“Boys,” you agree, offering her your hand. Her little fingers slide into your own and you head out the front door behind the two teenagers. Eddie grabs his keys and follows his family out. 

The keys jingle in your husband’s hand, a nervous tic as he walks over to the car and unlocks it. The three kids pile into the back and Eliza and Luke bicker over buckling her car seat as you slip into the passenger’s side.

“Everyone have everything?” Eddie asks as soon as the arguing stops. “Backpacks? Lunches? Or lunch money?”

A chorus of “yes” comes from the backseat so Eddie starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, instantly wishing he could turn around and take everyone back home.

You, Eddie, and Eliza somehow arrive at the preschool on time, but not before your daughter had thoroughly embarrassed her brothers on the high school drop-off line. She’d begged Eddie to roll down her window so she could yell to them as they joined their friends. 

“Bye, Ryan! Bye, Lukie!” she’d shouted. “I love you!” 

You and Eddie thought it was hilarious. Luke and Ryan? Not so much. 

But now, your husband is a total wreck as Eliza marches full steam ahead towards the school’s doors. Truthfully, you’re almost as bad as he is, but you’re trying to keep it together—for Eliza’s sake and for Eddie’s. 

“You ready, Eliza?” You crouch down and place your hands on her shoulders. 

“Yep!” She nods, baby teeth on full display when she grins excitedly.  

Eddie narrows his eyes in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yep!” Eliza repeats; thankfully, she’s oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

“You’re going to have a great time and make lots of new friends,” you tell her. 

“And I’ll be right here, ready to pick you up when it’s over,” Eddie adds as he crouches down next to you.

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes again or elbow Eddie in the ribs.  

Eliza nods her head, little pigtails bouncing with the movement. She hikes her backpack up higher and gives you both another wide smile. 

“Ready to go in?” you ask. 

“Uh huh.”

You take her hand and she leads you into her new classroom, Eddie following along behind you. He’s quite literally dragging his feet, a human version of Eeyore the donkey. 

A teacher, not too much younger than you, comes up to greet you all. “Hi, everyone!” she chirps in a tone that signals over-caffeination. “Welcome to preschool! I’m Miss Riley, your teacher.”

For the first time this morning, Eliza seems hesitant. She looks up at you for approval and you nod your head at her. 

“I’m Eliza Marie Munson,” she announces, and you bite back a laugh at her formality. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eliza,” Miss Riley says. “You’ve got both Mommy and Daddy with you here today, huh?”

“Yep! Was just gonna be Daddy but then Mommy said she didn’t think he’d really take me here.” 

You squeeze your lips together as your daughter calls out your husband’s behavior; Eddie closes his eyes, a small smile appearing on his face. Both of you know (partially due to your experiences with Luke and Ryan when they were younger) that anything that went on in your house that Eliza knew about would be fair game to be shared with her whole class. 

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here,” Miss Riley replies, holding a hand out for a high-five that your daughter eagerly returns. “Would you like me to show you where your cubby is?”

“Okay!” Eliza turns around and waves to you and Eddie.  “Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!”

“No hugs?” Eddie asks, a pout forming on his plush lips.

Eliza rolls her eyes as if this is the most unreasonable request she’s ever heard, but obliges. 

You give her a tight squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re gonna have an amazing day, baby girl,” you remind her. 

“I know, Mommy.”

Eddie’s hug can only be described as bone-crushing, with Eliza letting out a dramatic grunt as he holds her. 

“Eliza Munson, you are the smartest, bravest little girl I know,” he says, voice catching in his throat. “I want you to go out there and kick some a—butt,” he hurriedly amends, but not before earning a glare from you. 

“Most importantly, be nice,” you emphasize, hoping your advice trumps Eddie’s little half-time pep talk. 

“I will!” Eliza happily declares before following Miss Riley over to the cubbies.

Eddie looks back and forth from her to you. “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all we get?”

“What did you want?” you ask as you slip your hand into your husband’s. “Want her to cry and beg you to take her back home?”

“Well, no.” At your disbelieving eyebrow raise Eddie shrugs and amends his statement. “Not entirely.”

“We got hugs and goodbyes,” you point out. “Ryan barely acknowledged us, and Luke gave you a Wet Willy. I think we should cut our losses.”

“I know,” Eddie says, letting out a defeated sigh.

You gently tug him in the direction of the door to exit. “She’ll be fine,” you reassure him with a whisper. “And she’ll be so excited to tell you all about it later.”

Eddie nods, and just as the two of you are about to walk out the door, something rams into Eddie’s legs. He looks down to see Eliza grinning up at him, little arms wrapped around his knees.  

“What’s up, Sweet Pea?” he asks, suddenly worried that something’s wrong. Was someone mean to her? Did she forget her lunch at home?

She jumps like a little jumping bean until she’s right in front of the two of you. 

“I love you!”

Your heart swells and the pressure of tears is heavy behind your eyes. There’s no way you can look at Eddie because clocking his emotion will absolutely send you over the edge. 

Eddie’s already tearing up though and has a bright smile on his face. “We love you too, Liza Bean,” he tells her. “So much.”

She giggles and you scoop her up in your arms. “We love you more than anything.”

You and Eddie press kisses to her cheeks at the same time, and Eddie blows a raspberry with his, making her giggle. 

Once you set her down, Eliza blows you both a kiss before skipping over to a table where a few kids are drawing, already settling in. 

Eddie wipes at his eyes as the two of you step out of the classroom and into the hall. “That’s what I wanted,” he admits with a tearful chuckle. 

You wrap your arms around one of Eddie’s and lay your head on his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask him.

“No.” He sighs when you press a reassuring kiss against his shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep it together for your sake,” he says.

At his words, you pull away to look at him, eyebrows raised. “This was you holding it together?” you ask. 

“Oh, this could’ve been way worse, babe.”

You chuckle as he slips his hand into yours, knowing that he’s likely telling the truth. 

The two of you take one last look inside the classroom and see Eliza talking and laughing with a little girl and boy at her table. 

“Come on,” you say, patting the back of Eddie’s hand with your free one. 

With a reluctant sigh, Eddie starts to walk with you towards the exit. 

“And I know Miss Riley is younger than me but don’t get any ideas.” You smirk and nudge his shoulder with your own, trying to joke around and cheer him up a bit.

Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, she’s a teacher. I only go for babysitters.”

The late summer morning is hot as you make the journey back to your car. Still the gentleman as always, Eddie opens your door for you. 

“Man,” he shakes his head as you slip into the passenger’s seat. “I can’t believe my baby is in preschool.” 

He closes your door and walks around to his side, giving you time to open your purse and pull out a small object, hiding it beneath your hands in your lap. He starts the car, though you’re fairly certain your heartbeat is louder than the engine. 

“Well,” you start before clearing your throat. Eddie looks over at you and there’s suddenly a million butterflies not only in your stomach, but throughout your whole body. “She’s not going to be the baby for long…”

You hand Eddie the test, watching as his expression shifts from sadness to confusion to awe as he stares at the two pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” The excitement in his voice rivals that of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm, grinning with your own excitement. The emotions that you've been trying to corral all day finally come out, relief and giddiness flowing through you as you tell your husband what you've been dying to amongst all the other chaos of the day.  

Eddie lunges across the center console to wrap you up in his arms, letting the positive test drop into his lap. “Holy shit, princess.”

“I know,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie’s still in shock, grinning from ear to ear and rubs his hands over his face. “We’re gonna have another baby,” he says, just to hear it aloud. 

“And just think,” you say, “you get to do this first day of preschool thing again.”

His nose wrinkles at that prospect. “Maybe I’ll just homeschool this one.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanart #AYW #AYWS #older!eddie