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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 6 Prompt: Conversation Hearts 💕 ~ 2,300 words Eddie teases you because he thinks your crush on him is hilarious, but you don’t find it very funny.

A tiny, hard, unidentified object thwacks! against the back of your head.

“Ow!” You spin on your heel to confront the culprit, and…are actually not that surprised to see Eddie Munson standing there, smirking at you.

You rub the back of your head. “What was that?”

Wordlessly, Eddie holds up a small pink box. Conversation hearts. Of course.

You turn back around and keep walking, staring determinedly ahead, but he matches your pace. He strolls next to you down the hallway, nonchalant as can be, like he doesn’t have some trick up his sleeve to pester you with. When his arm brushes against yours, you shift subtly away, not wanting to touch him.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate, now is it?

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumble back instinctively, the need to mind your manners overpowering your need to avoid engaging with Eddie Munson at any cost.

“So? Who’s the lucky fella taking you out tonight?”

There isn’t one. “None of your business.”

“Aw, come on, Princess. You gotta tell me who my competition is.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks. “That’s not funny.”

He pouts at you.

You abruptly veer off to the left and duck into the restroom; you don’t want to hear what he has to say next.

“Hey! Where ya going?”

You shut yourself into a stall and lean with your back against the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? Was it not enough for him to simply not reciprocate your feelings? He had to go out of his way to tease you about the stupid crush you have on him, too?

Used to have, you think bitterly to yourself, as though there wasn’t any lingering affection embedded deep into your heartstrings.

But it’s not that easy.

Eddie Munson was different. He was rowdy, snarky, and absurdly eloquent for a guy in his third go-round as a senior; he liked to read, he played guitar in a band, and he protected his friends like an attack dog. He worked at a bar and dragged on Lucky Strikes as he walked through the school parking lot, practically stomping across the pavement in his heavy boots.

But still, there was a softness hiding underneath that hard shell. You were sure of it.

Smitten kitten. That was you. Reaching your own senior year, you were finally, finally able to share a class with him. Ms. O’Donnell’s fourth period English became your favorite part of the day, the perfect place to indulge in your silly romantic fantasies, because the leading hero who starred in them was conveniently seated just two desks away.

Which was all fine and dandy for you, until he knew.

You still don’t know how he found out. Did Nancy Wheeler let something slip in front of her brother, Mike, who ran and snitched to his fearless club leader? Or did Eddie somehow glean it from you by sheer intuition?

It was little things at first. Cocky, arrogant smirks aimed directly at you when he came into the room and plopped down in his seat. Cheeky tugs at your hair in the hallway. He hissed your name across the library and pulled goofy faces when you turned to look, wagged his tongue and threw wadded-up balls of paper at you. These actions left you confused, and automatically put you on guard. What did they mean, and why did they start occurring so suddenly?

You weren’t left guessing for long. He quickly got bolder. Eddie was already behaving like a general menace, but then it went beyond the rude gestures and peskiness. He did the unthinkable; he started teasing you mercilessly about your pathetic infatuation.

He chased you in the hallways, calling you mocking pet names and asking when you were going to finally give him a chance. He blew kisses at you when you made eye contact in the cafeteria, pouting at you when you didn’t return them, while his friends all watched the exchange and laughed uproariously.

It was so humiliating you could cry, and you had, many times over. And to think you had liked him because he was supposed to be nice underneath that tough exterior.

You’d rather be on the receiving end of Jason Carver’s poisonous words, or even worse — a repeat of Tommy Hagan’s routine torture from the year prior would be preferable to this.

Having Eddie poke fun at your unrequited love for him was far too much to bear.

You sniffle uncontrollably, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You wipe at them furiously with your sleeve, feeling hot with embarrassment. You wish you could hide in here forever, and you almost do — but the late bell rings, and — Goddamn it — you have a quiz. Heaving a shuddery sigh, you walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a sprint to Ms. O’Donnell’s room.

The ornery woman gives you a frown as you enter her class late; you keep your eyes glued to the floor as you scamper to your seat, pointedly ignoring the curious stares of your peers, who are no doubt wondering what’s got you in such a state. Certainly not meeting his gaze, which is trained on you. You can practically feel it.

Quiz papers are passed out, and you can scarcely focus on the questions. You skim and answer as quickly as you can, wanting nothing more than to put your head down and wait for class to end.

The period passes in a blur; you’ve spent most of it watching the clock, telepathically willing the red hand ticking the seconds by to move faster. As soon as the bell rings you’re out of your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder and all but running from the room.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You ignore him, weaving in and out of the crowd of students.

He catches up with you anyway. “What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, for once sounding completely serious as he talks to you. “Why were you crying?”

Tears threaten to well up again. You purse your lips and shake your head as your face starts to crumble. God, you’re so over this whole thing. The teasing and the crying followed by more teasing, and more crying, an endless cycle that left you emotional and on edge every time you had to see him.

“Hey.” He tries to place a ringed hand on your shoulder, a touch that would have had you swooning mere months ago, but you wrench yourself out of his grip, face streaming.

Later at home, your parents are off to dinner, celebrating their own love story. You revel in the luxury of an empty house, taking a long, hot shower, and slipping on your softest pajamas. Ordering your favorite takeout and putting on a comfort movie has you feeling almost okay again; you’re determined that today will be the last day you let Eddie Munson get under your skin, ever.

There’s a rapping at the door. You hop up from the couch and grab the cash your parents set aside for your dinner, pad to the front door, and swing it open with a polite smile plastered on your face.

Except the person standing there is decidedly not a delivery boy with an armful of food, but one Eddie Munson.

Immediately, you try to slam the door shut, but Eddie sticks his foot out before it can close all the way. He yelps in pain as the heavy door squashes his Reebok, but he doesn’t move.

“Oh my God! Is it not enough for you to bully me at school? Now you have to come to my house?! How do you even know where I live?!”

“Wheeler told me your address!” His eyes are wide, alarmed by the ferocity of your reaction. Wincing, he asks, “Can you just talk to me for a second, please? I’m trying to check on you.”

Reluctantly, you ease the pressure you’re putting on his foot. You keep the door half-shut, peering at him from around the jamb. You say nothing, waiting suspiciously.

When it seems to Eddie that you’re not going to deck him, he relaxes a little. “I just wanted to apologize,” he admits, sounding as bashful as Eddie probably ever could. “I guess I upset you earlier today, and I didn’t mean to.” He pauses. “That was because of me, right?”

You sigh. “The fact that you even have to ask…”

His cheeks turn pink, and shuffles his feet nervously. “Look, I’m really sorry. For buggin’ you all the time. I guess…it’s some kind of…wish fulfillment thing for me, or whatever — anyway, it’s stupid, and I’m sorry for doing that to you. I swear I didn’t realize that it upset you so much, otherwise I never would’ve kept doing it.”

Eddie’s grimacing in shame, eyes downcast. He does look awfully sorry, but you’re not quite ready to forgive.

“I just don’t understand why.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “You know, you spend so much time fighting the basketball team, or anybody that so much as looks the wrong way at your Hellfire friends. You know what it’s like to get picked on. How could you do that to me? Even for a second?”

Eddie opens his mouth to interject, but you press on.

“If you thought it was funny that I liked you, then fine. You don’t have to like me back. But you don’t need to laugh in my face about it, either.”

He blinks. “I — what?”

“That’s so fucking mean, Eddie, for you to taunt me every single day —”

“You liked me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap back.

“Princess, if you liked me, this is the first I’m hearing about it. I was under the impression that you hated my guts.”

Both of you fall silent, staring at each other intensely. Eddie’s brow is deeply furrowed, full lips parted in wonder.

You falter uncertainly. “I’m…confused.”

His face is a mirror of your own bewilderment. “So am I. You thought I was teasing you…for having a crush on me?”

You suddenly feel very exposed, like someone just walked in on you naked. “Weren’t you?”

“No.”

The words hangs in the air between you for a moment.

“Well, I definitely don’t anymore,” you state defensively, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why did you think that?”

“Because you never looked twice at me and then all of a sudden you — you started calling me Princess and blew me kisses and talked about us going on dates like it was the funniest joke in the world!”

“Did it ever occur to you,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, “that I did all those things because I liked you?”

There’s an odd swooping sensation, like stepping for a missing stair.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, though his big doe-eyes still have a tinge of sadness in them. “I — I thought,” he wavers, then tries again, “I kept asking when you would go out with me because I really want you to. Go out with me, I mean.”

“Wish fulfillment,” you mumble, echoing his phrasing from earlier.

“I thought we were playing some kind of game, I guess. I thought you knew the meaning behind it, when I would do all those things. I had no idea I was hurting your feelings. And believe me, I had no clue that you had a crush on me — you’re way out of my league, Princess. I thought I was fighting a losing battle, so I kept hamming it up.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. “You threw papers at me. And pencils. And dice.”

Eddie chuckles nervously, thoroughly embarrassed. “Forgive me. I’ve been held back twice; that’s not really an indicator of a mature brain, is it?” He shrugs. “I wanted you to pay attention to me.”

All the emotional turmoil of the day hits you like a tidal wave. Impossibly, you find yourself getting choked up yet again. “All this time, I thought you were laughing at me.”

“I wasn’t,” he says softly, taking a step towards you. “I swear on my life, I never meant to make you feel this way. God, sweetheart, if I’d have known…” His gaze lingers on your watery eyes, your trembling lips, the way you’re almost hiding from him behind the jamb. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.”

You swallow harshly. “It’s my own fault, I think. I always jump to conclusions — everyone tells me all the time that I’m too sensitive.”

“You’re not too sensitive,” he reassures you. “You’re sweet, you know? Gentle. That’s all.”

Oh. Eddie Munson thinks you’re gentle.

He cocks his head to the side. “Did it ever even occur to you? That I might have a crush on you, too?”

You laugh in spite of yourself, wiping at a few stray tears. “No.”

“Well, it should have. ‘Cause I did then, and I do right now, too.”

Eddie slips something out of his pocket, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He holds out the same box he had earlier: small and pink, still full of pastel candies rattling against the cardboard. He pulls the flap open and shakes a few out into his palm; after looking over his options, he selects a lilac-colored heart and holds it out so you can see the small text. It simply reads: FOR YOU.

“A small token of my affection,” he whispers. “If you want it.”

Without thinking you reach out and grasp his leather-clad forearm, tugging on his sleeve. “Come inside,” you whisper back, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have him close and warm. “Please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Eddie bows his head. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

He finally crosses the threshold and steps into your arms, swinging the door shut behind him.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

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stevesjockstrap · 8 months

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@stcreators event 01: favorite

Ahoy Captain

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie stopped walking so sharply that Gareth ran into his back. He did a double take and his jaw was on the floor.

“What the fu-“ But Gareth followed his gaze and his jaw also dropped. “Is that?”

Jeff came to stand next to them, eyebrows raised. “…Steve Harrington in a sailor outfit?”

“That’s the Steve Harrington you won’t shut up about?” Drew said, especially loud in the crowded mall.

“Shut up!” He turned to hiss at him before rounding back to stare across the hall. “Did I die and go to heaven? Pinch me.” He pulled the sleeve of his leather jacket up and offered his arm to Gareth. He pinched his forearm roughly, without looking down. All of their eyes were locked on the figure in the brightly colored ice cream shop, now coming around the counter to crouch down to hand a cone to a small child. Doing so making the tiny shorts ride up his thighs, but Eddie’s eyes were suddenly drawn to where his v-neck hung open, getting a glimpse of chest hair.

“Buh,” he turned to Gareth to announce.

“Yo, we have to go in there. This is like once in a lifetime shit.”

Eddie adamantly shook his head and started backing away but Gareth and the guys shared a look before suddenly grabbing him under the arms to escort him awkwardly through the mall thoroughfare.

“Oh no. Oh no.” He chanted under his breath.

Back behind the counter now, Steve greeted them as they bodily pushed him into the store. “Welcome, fellas! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain!”

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. It’s so much worse, being this close. Steve’s eyes shine under the terrible fluorescent lighting and he can see the muscles in his arms flex as he leans onto the counter.

“If you need any help let me know. The flavor of the week is triple decker extravaganza!”

Eddie’s brain had stopped working. His arms were dropped as his friends went further up to the counter to look at the ice cream options. He continued staring stupidly at Steve as he leaned a hip against the back counter.

“You guys check out the new record store yet?” Steve Harrington was actually making decent conversation with them. What universe did he teleport to this morning?

“No, not yet,” Gareth answered. “That’s where we were heading actually, when uh-“ he awkwardly turned around to make eye contact with Eddie, still a few feet behind them and drawing Steve’s attention over to him.

“You don’t want anything?” Steve asked him. Oh he wanted something. Wanted to drop to his knees in front of him. Or the other way around. He wouldn’t mind either way. He would’ve done anything to have Steve’s undivided attention on him and now that he had it he was blanking on English. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. He finally forced his body forward, tearing his eyes away from Steve to send a panicked look at Gareth. He just smirked, the absolute asshole.

Steve frowned at him and he wanted to melt into the floor. “If you’re not a fan of ice cream we have cookies, too.”

Steve being so sweet to him finally rattled some brain cells loose. “Oh, um, no, that’s-“

Jeff chuckled from the other side of Gareth. “Eddie here loves ice cream. That’s why we had to stop in. Isn’t that right, guys?” The rest of his band laughed obnoxiously and nodded. Steve looked at all of them confused, but still with an easy smile when he turned back to Eddie.

“What’s your favorite?”

“Um, huh?” Eddie blinked at him. He watched as Steve pulled his bottom lip in to bite it, probably trying to figure out what was happening with him and the guys. Eddie’s gut clenched. He hoped he didn’t think he was doing anything wrong or they were making fun of him.

“Your favorite ice cream? We can talk about any of your other favorites after we get that out of the way,” he grinned at him and Eddie had to grab the counter in front of him when his knees threatened to give out.

“Rocky road?”

“Perfect. Coming right up! Cup or cone? Or waffle bowl? It’s like a big cone in a cup?”

“Cone please?”

Once he wasn’t under the heavy gaze of gorgeous brown eyes, he turned to his friends for help. But Drew just snickered at him and Jeff sent him a thumbs up. Dicks.

Steve handed him his cone and their fingers brushed. He dumped all the change he had into the tip jar and Steve fucking winked at him. The guys ordered their ice creams suspiciously easily, but Steve kept coming back to Eddie’s side of the counter. He tried hard not to hold eye contact with him as he licked across his ice cream.

“So was it worth it?”

“Wh-what?” He stammered.

“Coming in, for the ice cream?”

“Definitely. The ice cream is… great.” He looked around and realized his friends had gone to sit in the furthest booth by the door. Steve had only been sweet and amazing to him and he couldn’t leave without at least having a somewhat competent conversation. “But I- I really came in to see you.”

“Me?” Steve leaned further across the counter towards him. He turned those big brown eyes up at him and Eddie wasn’t sure if he could get any other words out.

“Couldn’t walk away from you in this getup.” His hand moved on his own accord to reach out and tug on the red tie in the middle of his chest.

“Oh,” he huffed. “Yeah. I wish I would’ve known before I agreed to work here. Not that I had any better offers.”

Eddie’s fingers itched to run along the blush that appeared across his cheeks.

“No, no, it’s- I mean, I like it.” He winced as it came out, but his eyes shot open when Steve chuckled. “Really. I really like it.” He cleared his throat because that couldn’t have been his voice. It was deep and gravely and sounded way too fucking hot to have come out of his mouth.

Steve’s wide eyes tracked his tongue as it came out to wet his lips. Fuck.

“Oh.”

Eddie leaned a bit closer, drawing on this unknown confidence that came from Steve Harrington hanging on his every word. “So what time do you get off, Captain?”

This was a benedryl-fueled thought but Scoops!uniform Steve was the only thing my brain wanted to give me for “favorite.”

@lighthousebeams

#mine #steddie #steve Harrington #Eddie munson #scoops ahoy outfit #stranger things #stranger things fic #event fic

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