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sp0o0kylights · 8 months

Text

Part One / Part Two

A03

It ain’t much.” Wayne started, half-curious if the sight of his trailer would be the thing to offend Steve’s (so far lacking) born-rich sensibilities.

Of course turning to look at the kid proved he was in his own head about this more than Steve was, because Steve had his eyes closed and looked two seconds away from puking.

Right.

Pain management.

“I’ll get your stuff.” Wayne said as he guided the truck to its usual parking spot.

Steve’s quiet ‘okay’ had him hustling a little bit, and the fact he had to gently guide the kid’s hand off his bag handle told him it was the right choice.

The nailbat could wait in the car for the moment he figured, as he led Harrington in. He’d get it sorted once he’d fished out the pain pills and gotten Steve settled a bit.

"Eds--he's my nephew that I told you about--has the bedroom, so you and I get to share out here." Wayne explained as he loaded Steve up on Tylenol and put a bag of frozen peas in his hand, not bothering to give a tour of the trailer.

It was pretty damn clear which door led to the bathroom and which didn’t, given Ed’s door was wide open.

Steve peeked at the absolute chaos strewn about beyond the doorframe but didn’t say nothing of it.

Didn’t, in fact, even look too long, instead sitting at the table as directed.

Seemed to sink a little into it, leaning an elbow on the cheap wood to help keep his head up.

"The couch is a pull out, but I'll warn you the bar across the middle is nasty. I usually sleep on the cot over there," Wayne nodded to where it was rolled neatly against the opposite wall, "but given the state of you, I'll let ya have your pick."

Steve blinked (or winked, not like Wayne could tell since the peas were pressed against half of his face) finally seeming to perk up a bit. "I can't take your bed."

"I'm not going to fight you for it, I'm just offering." Wayne responded, now focused on trying to locate the bandages in his ancient medical kit.

The one on Steve's hand was falling apart, and he didn't like the look of the injury he could see under it.

Yeah, Wayne was absolutely going to need to make a run to the store.

“Lemme see.” He asked as he finally got what he wanted.

It seemed to take Harrington a minute to process what Wayne wanted, but he finally held out his injured hand, watching as Wayne unwrapped the bandages.

"I'll take the couch." Steve said stubbornly, but Wayne was past it, too busy frowning at the kid's hand.

It took him a moment, once he'd gotten it all off, to properly realize what he was seeing--that the mottled bruising on Steve's wrist was separate from the cut across his palm.

In fact, it looked a hell of a lot like…

Wayne paused, then pretended to fuss with the dirty bandages for a moment while his eyes sought out Steve's other wrist.

Sure enough, matching bruises.

Someone had tied the kid up--and it hadn’t been the feds, because these bruises were partially healed.

Wayne had initially thought of Steve as having been tortured in the same way roving bands of neighborhood kids tortured their peers. The kind of hurt that came when it was an unfair fight; four on one and wielding knives, so you had to take what you were given and pray you didn't get stabbed.

He was not thinking actual, honest to God torture.

Yet here the evidence was, plain as day.

'What the hell went down in that mall.'

Someone as young as Steve shouldn't have been caught up in it, and it made a deep part of Wayne ache for the poor kid across from him.

All this shit, and his parents still couldn't be bothered to come home.Just left him on his own, as if it was another Tuesday.

Did they even know? Wayne wondered as he got to work. Had Steve, or Hopper, or anyone tried to call them about the mallfire? Let them know their son got hurt?

Jim said he hadn’t bothered to reach out regarding the spooks, but that had been a week or so later past the fire.

Wayne couldn’t even imagine it.

Getting a call that Eddie been involved in such a thing would have him off the couch in an instant, and the image that played on the news, the ones all the reporters talked over of a gurney being wheeled out of Starcourt’s on fire front doors…

He’d have been a wreck until he had his kid in his sights.

‘Nothing you can do for that,’ Wayne figured silently, ‘but you can help him now.’

Wayne wasn't exactly an expert when it came to wound care, but like many people who just couldn't afford to go to a doctor he'd gotten by.

Learned a lot of home remedies. Figured out pretty quick when something needed to be seen by an expert and when you could hold off.

Made friends with some of the local nurses on the night shift down at the Red Barn, well enough that a few well baked treats and dishes could sometimes be traded for looking over a potentially broken arm or two.

It had come in handy plenty, given Ed’s ability to attract trouble, but thankfully he’d never managed to hurt himself like this.

He’d never even gotten caught in a bad fight.

A black eye or two sure, but the kid had adapted his “scary” act not too long after Wayne had gotten him, and it seemed to work as intended. It was half the reason Wayne never said anything about it (and hell, even let Eddie take his ancient leather motorcycle jacket.) .

All of that was to say that he could tell Harrington's hand needed cleaning before it could be rebandaged, but didn't appear to need stitches.

Course pouring alcohol all over an injury like this wasn't exactly going to be fun, and he told Steve as such.

"I know." Steve replied, with a grimace. The kid’s injuries seemed to be getting to him, and Wayne anticipated he was going to drop here the second Wayne was done looking him over.

He hoped Harrington could get in a few hours--particularly before Eddie came home.

Wayne gently wiped it clean, noting how well Steve sat given the amount of pain he had to be in.

Tylenol, even given the more than recommended amount he'd given Steve, just wasn't going to cut it.

Not in general, and definitely not for this.

What could help was likely something Eds had, which was yet another conversation Wayne wasn't looking forward to having.

Particularly given that Eds had sworn off selling hard drugs after his last encounter with Hopper, and Wayne knew damn well that had only lasted until the damn kid caught sight of an overdue bill.

Too smart for his own good, Eddie was.

"I can give you something to bite down on, if you like." Wayne said to Steve, getting the alcohol and bandages ready to go.

He got a tight smile in response. "So long as you don't use a needle, I'm good."

And Wayne figured it was just teenager talk--a young man who didn't really know how bad this was going to be, and prepared himself to hold Steve's arm down accordingly so they wouldn't have to do it twice.

"Four." Wayne counted down. "Three. Two."

He poured on two.

Better that than Steve clenching up in anticipation.

Steve hissed, arm jerking, but stilled it under his own power as Wayne began dabbing his hand with some of the medkit’s wipes.

He felt his eyebrow raise as Harrington froze himself in place, breathing in a way that felt practiced.

This, Wayne decided, was not Steve's first rodeo.

"Almost done." He promised softly as he finished wrapping the wound back up, this time in the pattern he'd been shown long ago.

"Thanks." Steve said, blinking rapidly.

The kid's eyes were wet, but he didn't let a tear fall, and that perked Wayne's attention more than anything.

Some men felt they weren't allowed to cry--and pushed the same ideals on their sons.

It wouldn't surprise him any if Richard Harrington was one of them.

"I know you got hit more than just your hands and face kid." Wayne said, after letting Steve have a moment to recover. "You bleeding under that shirt?"

"Not bleeding." Steve murmured, looking more and more like he was struggling to stay upright now that the worst part was over. "I think my hand got the worst of it."

"Do I want to know what happened there?" Wayne asked, keeping his voice calm and non judgemental.

Like they were back to talking sports.

"I fell back into a broken window.” Steve responded, and now that Wayne had seen the kid lie, it was easy to see when he was telling the truth.

"Ouch." Wayne said flatly. Which made that hint of a smile flash across Steve's face.

"I'll cut you a deal. I taped last weekend's game, but haven't had time to watch it yet. I figure you might not have had a chance neither." He sat back, nailing Harrington with a no-nonsense stare. "You let me take a look at what they did to your chest n' back there, and I'll put it on."

Steve just looked at him a little miserably, a beaten dog still hesitant to wag its tail. "I don't think there's anything you can do for it, it's really mostly bruised. Nothing feels broken though."

"You know what broken ribs feel like?" Wayne questioned partially out of curiosity but mostly to make sure.

Teenage boys loved to think themselves immortal after all.

Or at least his did.

"Cracked, but yeah." Steve admitted. "Couldn't finish out the year on the basketball team because of it."

He said it like it didn't hurt, but Wayne knew better.

Boy like Steve?

He'd bet big bills something like basketball was all the kid really had, in terms of positive relationships.

(Except apparently, whatever had made Hopper decide to look after him.)

"I mostly just wanna make sure nothing looks like it's broken or bleeding internally son." Wayne said, then tried to cinch it with some good old guilt tripping. "I'd hate to have to tell Hopper that after all he went through to keep you safe, you up and died on my couch."

"Hey, it might save him some future gray hairs." Steve responded but he looked a little more open to the idea, at least.

It took a bit more coaxing, but Wayne finally got the kid to take his shirt off.

The damage had him whistling out of instinct.

A fucking artist had gone to town on his torso, with bruised of all shades parading around to his left side.

Thankfully most of it didn't hold that deep, dark tone that indicated any kind of bleeding, his back had scratches and road rash, and his shoulder had one long, thin line that looked a hell of a lot like Steve had narrowly avoided getting cut with a knife.

"You got lucky, kid." Wayne told him.

Steve let out a shaky breath. "I know."

He hesitated, then opened his mouth, a question clear on his face.

Which of course, was the exact moment Eddie chose to walk through the door.

"Hey old man, I--Harrington!?"

"Munson?" Steve said, looking just as confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here?" Eddie had frozen in their little entryway, so close the door nearly whacked him on the ass as it slammed closed.

Privately, Wayne cursed his nephew's awful timing.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie challenged back, and it was only years of Wayne knowin’ the kid to see he was struggling to decide how he wanted to react.

“Uh…” Steve said, trailing off and looking pointedly at Wayne.

Eddie saw this just as he registered all of Steve’s injuries. “Shit Wayne, did you hit him with your car?”

“Don’t try to be funny, boy.” Wayne warned. There wasn’t much bite there, and Eddie, far too used to him, didn’t take it seriously.

Eddie was glued to the spot, eyes narrowing, “... Did Harrington hit the car with his fuckin’ face? Jesus christ.”

Wayne could tell he was struggling to pull one of his usual little bits, eyes too wide and voice too high.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Eddie.”

“We can take him out back and shoot him, put the poor bastard out of his misery.” Eddie continued, like a runaway train.

All gas, no breaks.

It was a joke but a poor one, and it made Steve straighten out of his sideways slant.

‘Dammit.’ Wayne thought with a sigh.

He needed to stop this now, before the two of them went for each other's throats.

“Since you already know each other I won’t bother with introductions.” Wayne cut in, before Eddie could blow up like a tea kettle--or cause Harrington to do the same. “Steve’s gonna be staying with us for a while.”

That of course, got the reaction Wayne had been hoping to avoid.

Eddie stood stunned for a second, mouth gaping like a fish.

“Why!?” He finally landed on, seeming both at a loss for words, and equally trying not to have a proper meltdown in front of Steve.

Certainly wasn’t for Wayne’s benefit.

"I'm…" Steve glanced at Wayne a second time, "...on vacation?"

It took everything Wayne had in him not to run a hand down his face.

He was going to give Harrington a pass, on account of the head trauma.

"You’re vacationing here.”Eddie’s tone was flat, but seething, like a lit fuse. “In my living room?”

“...Yeah?” He finished poorly tone up-ticking at the end like it was a question. “It’s a--college thing. Supposed to help my applications.”

This time, Wayne did run a hand down his face this time.

God save him from idiot teenagers.

Hands clenched tight, Eddie took an aborted glance to the right before shaking his head hard and scoffing. At least it let Wayne know exactly what his kid was thinking.

To Eddie’s right was the counter where Wayne kept the bills.

Before he realized just how badly Ed’s daddy had messed him up about such things, Wayne hadn’t bothered to hide the bills that were past due. Turns out the kid noticed such things, and worry over money had been the leading factor in more than one of Eddie’s run-ins with Hop.

Clearly, he thought it was the cause of Wayne entertaining this bullshit.

Offense was written in every rigid line of his body, and Wayne knew betrayal wasn’t gonna be far behind.

“What the hell Wayne!” Eddie spat, taking a singular step forward, the accent he tried so hard to hide growing thicker the madder he got. “We’re not a damn experiment--why would you agree to that!?”

He had seconds to salvage this, before Ed’s ran and did something dumb.

“‘Steve’s here cause I owe Hopper a favor.” Wayne answered honestly, standing to put himself between the two. “He reminded me of all the times he’s been good to you, and then he called it in. Now,”

He cut Eddie off before his rant could pick up steam and bowl them all over. “I need you both to listen to me. Steve, I need Eddie to know the basics in order to keep you safe. I’ll only tell him what he needs to hear to understand why that is.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, catching Wayne’s eye as the elder man positioned himself so he could see both boys at once.

“Okay.” Steve said, dropping the hesitant tone for something serious.

Eddie said nothing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and gripping the edges of his jacket hard enough to leave creases.

Judging that as good enough, Wayne continued. “He’s not here on vacation, Ed’s. Hopper has asked us to house Steve for a bit due to an ongoing situation. It’s a dangerous one, and it’s important you do not tell anyone that Steve is here.”

Eddie’s mouth did the thing it did when he desperately wanted to say something, but Wayne held up a finger in the universal “wait.” position.

“Let me finish.” He warned, and though he caught a hell of a glare for it, Eddie remained silent.

“Right now I need you to trust me, son.” He said softly, and prayed that alone was enough for now. “I don’t do things without a good reason behind it. I know you know that. Let me get Steve settled, and I’ll come talk to you.”

He could go in depth a little more, outside of Harrington’s eyesight. There Eddie would be inclined to drop the parts of his personality he put on blast as a defense mechanism, and ideally, Steve could get the sleep he so desperately needed.

“It’ll be tight, but we’ll all get through this so long as you two keep your heads. “You both got plenty of problems right now on your own, you don’t need to add to it. You understand?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed dramatically as he sucked in a deep breath.

“Fine.” He snarled, letting air hiss through his clenched teeth. “As long as King Dick here can keep himself out of my shit.”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait--or perhaps, was simply too tired to want to do anything but exit the conversation.

‘Yes Sir.” He said instead, and Wayne didn’t bother correcting him that time. Simply clocked the title as a nervous tick of Steve’s and let himself feel that brief pang of sorrow that he’d caused the kid to backslide a bit trust wise.

No use for it, though.

Not if he wanted peace in his home.

“Good.” Wayne said.

Eddie stormed past, beeling towards his room.

The door closed with an angry slam, the sound echoing throughout the trailer.

Steve reacted like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out his own breath and going right back to slumping sideways.

“Come on kid.” Wayne said quietly. “I think it’s beyond time you got to lay down. Let’s get you a shirt and some blankets.”

Steve didn’t say a word, just managed to get himself up and over to the couch, fumbling for his bag.

“Oh.” He said after a moment, pulling a green sweater from the duffel and blinking dully at it. “Shit--I mean, shoot.” He shot a guilty look to Wayne, like Eddie hadn’t just sworn up a storm in front of them both.

“What’s the matter?” Wayne just asked.

“It’s nothing, I just-- grabbed the wrong bag.” Steve told him earnestly. It was clear the day had taken a hard toll on him, because he was blinking rapidly, fighting away sleep.

A bad sign, given the energy Eddie had just come in with.

It should be taking him longer to feel safe to drop off, and that he was doin’ so anyway was a bad testament to the state of him.

“You need a different one?”

Steve shook his head. “No this is just my grab bag for the Upsi-errrm.” He hummed, before falling silent for a minute.

Wayne let him fish for words at his leisure.

“These are just clothes that I couldn’t get stains out of, kept them as backups.” Steve managed, before beginning the long process of pulling a shirt on.

Wayne almost offered to help, except he knew he’d likely be rejected. It was too soon, the trust between them not there yet.

He almost let the clothing comment go, figured it as just one of those things the brain did when it was injured and run down. The sweater Steve was struggling with was expensive and soft, and Wayne didn’t even see a stain until the poor kid finally finished getting it on.

He nearly froze, for the second time that day, when he did.

On one sleeve, smeared like Steve had wiped his face with it, was a bloodstain.

This one was old, and clearly attempts had been made to get it out.

‘Aw kid.’ He thought, staring at Steve as the kid managed to swing himself up on the couch, looking seconds away from dropping off. ‘What the hell has life done to you.’

It didn’t take long before sleep took him, but Wayne watched over him for a bit longer anyway, working up to what the hell he was going to tell his kid.

Eddie might very well not forgive him for this, but Wayne had a shot now to head things off before they got worse.

He just had to find the right words.

#small town rumors #steddie #pre steddie #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne munson is a bamf #hey look eddie showed up!#little shit FOUGHT ME and is still fighting me a bit in the next chapter #I need him to quit being an asshole and go into more of that hurt/comfort section of this fic #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers #sorta #its on a03 noooowstranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #beat to shit steve harrington

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

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Eddie thinking you’ve been ignoring him all day

Eddie Munson x Reader

(Tw: needles)

Eddie was sulking in bed, one pillow between his knees, the other crushed in between his arms, with his cheek flat against it.

Why hadn’t you called? You said you would.

Eddie Munson had such a crush on you. You were his best friend, but he really, really, really liked you... He had for a while.

You two had only managed to hang out for just under an hour yesterday, which was way less than usual. But since you had to leave to go socialise with your other friends, you promised to call Eddie today. ‘First thing in the morning’ you’d said, with the caveat of ‘if you’re up’, smiling playfully at him.

But it was now 3 pm and Eddie was lying face down on his bed, not even listening to music, or reading, he was just laying there, waiting.

Eddie had even called you four times today and no response, but your phone did ring. There was no way you were still asleep. Normally he’d just crawl through your window. He did that a lot. But yesterday you kept saying that you were ‘just tired’ when you two hung out, with the small time you had.

Maybe you didn’t want to see him?

Eddie clenched both pillows tighter, his body curling in on itself. He was always worried about this. Maybe people had finally gotten to you about him being a... a freak.

But no... you wouldn’t fall for that. You wouldn’t believe them, would you? You wouldn’t stop seeing him just to get people to like you more, gain back some of the social status you lost becoming friends with him.

But you said you were fine, you still had pretty much all your friends, who just scowled at Eddie and badmouthed him to you, but didn’t avoid you because of it. And you said you had your ‘true friends’, the ones who didn’t care about you and Eddie, and you said you had him! You said as long as you had that, you’d be happy...

Eddie rolled over, rubbing his legs together like crickets, before dejectedly kicking his bottom pillow off the bed since it’d gotten partly lost anyways, just squeezing his pillow tighter between his bitten fingernails. Trying not to punch it, because he’d been punching the pillow when it was curled against his stomach earlier, and he’d only hurt himself doing it. Punching the pillow didn’t make him feel any better. He just wanted you.

And then, the phone rang.

Eddie ran through the hospital doors, nearly breaking the automatic ones at the entrance, and he skidded to a halt at the board with directions of each ward, bouncing on his feet as he quickly read. Even though his eyes were slightly blurry from adrenaline, he could still read the large “4” meaning that your ward was an elevator ride up.

Eddie couldn’t give a shit about people staring at him as he ran through the hospital, crashing into every wall he took a corner through. It was a hospital, if there was anywhere people should understand someone running, it was here!

As Eddie finally thrust open your door, his panting breath finally became audible in his own ears, as he finally took a look at you. Staring up at him, in a hospital gown, an IV in your arm, but still smiling.

Eddie ran over to your side, but sat gently on your bed, carefully taking up your closest hand in his, avoiding the needle in it. And his deep brown eyes locked on yours. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

Eddie called you sweetheart sometimes. You didn’t mind, and he glared at anyone who seemed to find it odd until they backed down. And even though your mom had rang Eddie on your behalf, explaining to him that you were pretty much fine, Eddie still needed to ask you a million and one questions. All as he gently held you hand, doing all his best to not hurt you more.

You squeezed back Eddie’s hand, letting him know he was okay, as you shuffled further up the bed to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m sorry about all this.”

Eddie shook his head immediately, shuffling just like you did, but closer to you. His other hand stroking up and down the back of your wrist, holding your hand in his lap “No, no. What happened y/n?” Eddie looked down to your leg he could see clearer now under the hospital blanket. He didn’t even worry he’d be caught staring at your legs, especially in a robe that was a bit too short for you, because it was glaringly obvious he was staring at the big bandage wrapped around your calf.

“So basically, I woke up super early in the morning because I was feeling sick.” You saw Eddie’s body shuffling again, fidgeting, and you gave him a smile that was on the more humorous side of self-pitying, but still marginally annoyed at the whole situation. “But I was so tired, it was like, 4:30, and I only got back from Ellen’s at like 1 last night. So when I was carrying the bottle of medicine I kinda... slipped. And fell on the bottle. On the glass bottle.” You looked at Eddie pointedly, and his head tilted back as he got it now. But quickly his brown eyes went back to your leg, knowing what was under there now, his hand resting stretched on your knee as he observed it.

“Ew. Metal.” He commented, getting you to roll your eyes in agreement. “I know, right? You should’ve seen my bathroom, it looked like a crime scene.”

“You poor mom.”

“Oh she screamed.” You nodded.

Eddie sucked in air through his teeth, in sympathy of your poor leg, as he rubbed your knee.

“Anyway, so apparently the glass was pretty fucking deep, because it wasn’t enough to have stitches, I needed to have a small surgery.”

“SURGERY?!”

Eddie lowered his voice as you shushed him, not wanting a nurse to kick him out. His eyes were bulging out of their skull, shock horror on his face. “No one said anything to me about surgery!”

“It was a small one!” You promised.

“Is there actually such a thing?”

“Yeah!”

Eddie relented with a sigh, picking his head back up to look at you with those puppy dog eyes. His lip bitten in worry.

God, he was so fucking cute!

“But yeah, that only lasted, like, an hour. Not including the wait time, and the prep for surgery, and me waking up and all that shit. And then I didn’t get a single moment to call you or anything, because when I was up the doctors were testing me all day, just because I felt sick this morning. And they wanted to know if I was like, lightheaded, or dizzy or something, if there was any other reason I fell. At least they’re thorough I guess...”

Eddie nodded, deciding to just listen to all you had to say, his hand still rocking on your knee. Touch was very casual between you both anyway (minus occasional heavy beating hearts), plus he was just so glad you genuinely seemed okay. He thought. His head tilted when you finshed speaking, but he still thought that wasn’t enough, for his best friend who was literally describing their journey to the hospital. “...And??”

“Oh! I’m fine! It’s nothing serious.” You smoothed your free hand over the top of his, and you watched Eddie’s eyes go from still slightly worried on yours, to calm and washed over, over your joint hands. “It really was just an accident, and my leg should literally be fine too, the cuts were just a bit too deep for stitches. Plus it looked way worse than it was, I didn’t even stab any part of me inside, so no long lasting injuries or anything.”

“Good... Well I’m glad you didn’t get internally stabbed at least. Just a regular ole stabbing.” Eddie laughed out his nose, his smile only widening, because your smile got bigger when he finally smiled.

“Yeah, just a regular ole stabbing!” You agreed, now knowing that was going to be one of your inside jokes you two repeated all the time, much to the confusion of others. “Now I can join the basketball team, since my leg will be back to its full power.” You teased, knowing Eddie probably would have tackled you onto the bed if it wasn’t for you being injured, especially by the offended, yet very playful, way his eyebrows raised, and his jaw dropped in a smile.

“Don’t you dare. I’ll tell them all about your bathroom that’s soaked cieling to floor in blood. They’ll definitely think I’ve corrupted you.”

“The cieling didn’t get blood on it!” You rebutted, only getting Eddie to laugh, and you to join in response. Both of you rubbing each other’s hands, soothingly, but also self-soothingly. Just because you both wanted to. Because you liked being close.

Eddie’s smile stayed firmly planted on his warm lips. You were okay. You were fine, and you weren’t avoiding him. You didn’t forget him.

Eddie was the first person you’d asked to be called, when you got the opportunity for someone to reach the phone. You’d even told him you felt bad about not being able to call him, that you were worried about him. After all of today, you’d been worried about him, just because you couldn’t call? It made Eddie even more sure he was so right, for being so in love with you.

But you pat Eddie’s hand, with a tad more strength, just to show off how absolutely fine you were, and you even shuffled closer, so your thigh on your injured leg, was touching Eddie’s. “Hey.” You proposed, holding Eddie’s wrist to show he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve been in hospital for hours, since 5 this morning. So I think the least you could do is hang out with me all day.”

#really happy to write more Eddie he’s my beloved boy :’) 💕#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson hurt/comfort #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson drabble #anon #ask #stranger things #Eddie Munson fic #1.6k #Eddie Munson/reader

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