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thefreakandthehair · 7 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 3rd: School | Bad Reputation - Joan Jett and The Blackhearts | Combative

cw: pre-steddie (vaguely set s2), weed, migraines, un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

It’s 1985 and the boys bathroom smells like weed.

Interestingly, the boys bathroom smells like weed before Eddie ditches his last period to smoke in the little cement block room, window cracked and far less obvious than whoever’s in there ahead of him.

Probably a Freshman who doesn’t know any better, or some first-timer who hasn’t learned the ropes yet, he thinks to himself.

What he doesn’t expect to find when he pushes the heavy wooden door open is recently dethroned King Steve, sitting on the disgusting tile floor smoking a poorly rolled joint in the corner of the bathroom. Wedged between the sink and the wall, he looks… small, sad, lost, even. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d recruit him for Hellfire. He certainly looks the part of lost sheep.

Steve startles when the door opens and, in what may be the only time in Eddie’s many years at Hawkins High, relaxes when he sees Eddie. Steve’s eyes widen and then look away, back down at his hands. His shoulders clench and drop. His entire body seems to move to defend itself before retreating back into whatever stupor he’s smoking himself into.

Eddie has no idea what the fuck is happening that Steve Harrington doesn’t take him as a threat after his years of proving himself to be just that. Nor can he imagine what the fuck Steve’s experienced that’s caused it. Seconds pass and Eddie just stands there, door closed behind him, unsure of what to do. Hotboxing the bathroom with Steve hadn’t been his plan, but he’s been desperate for just a few drags off the joint sitting heavy in his pocket all day.

“You uh, you know that window opens, right?” Eddie asks, gesturing toward the window with his chin.

Steve doesn’t look up. “Sure do.”

“Got it. Cool. Okay, uh—” Eddie sputters. He’s had very few interactions with Steve, each one civil enough to leave no bad blood besides the company Steve keeps. Or, well, kept. But none have been long enough for Eddie to get a handle on Steve, not in the way he usually can.

Steve sighs and begins to stand. “I’ll get outta your way, man.”

Something in the way he moves, the way he grips the sink edge tight and rocks once to gain momentum before Eddie stops him, reminds Eddie of Wayne. Veteran Wayne, who works a harsh manual job and is no less than 25 years their senior. That can’t be normal, he thinks.

“Hey no, I’m uh, actually here for the same reason. Mind if I just,” Eddie trails off as he locks the door and wiggles his joint around, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. “I’ll crack the window so we don’t get busted.”

“Yeah, I don’t care, but leave the window closed. It’s too fucking loud.” Steve shrugs and Eddie stops mid-stride.

Eddie looks back down at the spot Steve has settled back into, his head carefully resting against the painted cinder block wall with closed eyes. It’s easier to watch him like this, long eyelashes spidering across his cheeks and brows furrowing. A tiny line appears between them, vertical, and Eddie holds himself back from smoothing it out.

“Alright, just know we’re probably gonna get caught.” Eddie compromises as he sits on a toilet, the stall door open, and lights up.

The flick of his lighter brings him a moment’s comfort, followed by the familiar warmth curling into his lungs. His throat burns and he coughs once, then twice, before exhaling. Little puffs of smoke leave his lips in one long, continuous breath. Immediately, the frustration of his meeting with the guidance counselor, the anger at his English teacher for failing him when he was fucking trying, the shame and disappointment of having to go home and tell Wayne he’s being left back– again– vanish. He knows it’s temporary, that it’ll all come rushing back to him in an hour or two, but for now, his brain is quiet.

For now, the bathroom is silent. Long moments pass in surprisingly comforting stillness, just Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington in the strangest show of camaraderie imaginable.

Eventually though, Eddie’s lips loosen.

“Why are you in here anyways? Shouldn’t you be like… I don’t know,” Eddie starts, miming the act of dribbling a basketball. “Doing some sport thing?”

“I do more than play sports, Munson.” Steve’s eyes roll and he shakes his head, grimacing at the movement. Eddie can’t quite put it together, what that reaction means.

“Huh. Coulda fooled me. And probably like, the rest of the school’s population. The rest of your Kingdom,” Eddie teases, gesturing widely with both arms.

“There’s no Kingdon, you ass. Much as you pretend to stay outta the gossip, I know you know what happened. And I’m glad it did, so drop it, okay?”

Steve has a bite to him, an attitude that Eddie admires and can’t help push a bit further.

“So you fall from grace and now you sit on grungy bathroom floors to smoke? Alone? That’s sorta my thing, just say–”

Eddie’s words get drowned out when Steve interrupts. “I’m down here smoking, alone, because I have a fucking migraine. If I have to see one more fluorescent light or hear one more high-pitched screech in the hallway, my brain is going to leak out of my goddamn ears.”

Even stoned, Eddie puts it together all at once. The closed window. The cool tiles. The struggle to get up. He doesn’t know the full story, but he remembers Steve walking around with his face beaten in and the rumors that it’d been Billy’s doing during a fight, and the time before that, when Jonathan had gotten a few good shots in. Damn his bleeding heart, but Steve suddenly feels more like a lost sheep than he could’ve imagined.

Someone Eddie feels the urge to protect.

Eddie stands carefully, all too aware of the sound of his own footsteps as he finds the hidden switch to turn the lights off. There’s still a tiny bit of light filtering in from beneath the door and through the window, but it’s darker. Safer.

“I can be quiet.”

Steve looks up at him, brows drawn tight in confusion, and Eddie’s chest aches. How infrequently does someone care for Steve?

“I’ve been in classes with you. I’m not so sure you can,” Steve retorts, a little less sarcastic now. Eddie makes a show of sitting back down on the toilet and mimicking zipping his lips and throwing away a key. It gets an actual laugh from Steve, and goddamn him, Eddie loves the sound of that.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes close again, this time with a relaxed forehead, and stares at him while they finish their joints. Alone, together. Maybe they could actually be friends, Eddie and Steve. Steve and Eddie. There’s a ring to it that Eddie hates because of how good it sounds.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a rattling at the door and subsequent pounding. Steve’s eyes open and dart between Eddie and the door. “Fuck,” he whispers.

Fuck is right, Eddie thinks. If he wasn’t already getting held back again, he would be now for what he’s about to do.

He crouches over next to Steve and takes what’s left of his joint from his fingers. “Do you have anything else on you?”

Steve shakes his head No and opens his mouth, only for Eddie to press a finger against his lips. “Get in the stall and flush the toilet when I open the door.”

“What–”

“Get in the stall,” Eddie whispers harshly, helping Steve to stand and all but shoving him in the stall he’d been in previously.

“Dude, they’re gonna know I’m here, it’s fine,” Steve resigns.

“Not if you have nothing on you, just say you had to take a piss and I was already in here. I’ve got a reputation, you don’t. Who are they gonna believe? Besides, I’m not graduating and you are. Consider it a graduation gift.”

Before he can open the bathroom door, before he takes the fall as planned because of course, the principal believes the story they’d concocted, Eddie feels Steve place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks.“

As he’s dragged to the Principal's office and suspended, an all too familiar setting, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to smoke with Steve Harrington.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie month #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #myfic #eddie month prompts

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hitlikehammers · 3 months

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whole wide world

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, teacher! Steve, gooey-clingy-heart-eyes Eddie needs his Stevie ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, amateur musicals, steve needs to stop using a ladder unsupervised because nothing bad happened this time but eddie is concerned that is the love of his life, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day thirteen: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask ❤️ (@steddieas-shegoes)

look who's back, just like every other day, it's the rockstar husbands from je ne regrette rien being their codependent, desperately-in-love selves again! ♥️

“Goddamnit,” Steve curses the staple gun, the dry-rotted wood he’s trying to use it on, the acrylic-covered tarp masquerading as a backdrop leaving little crackle-dust everywhere every single time it fucking falls because the wood’s shit, the staples are shit, his co-advisor’s kid’s sick with the flu, the kids are in the band room rehearsing the opening number and Steve really cannot fucking believe he got roped into this to begin with, actually, like, how the fuck did the middle school guidance-counselor-slash-study-hall-monitor get conned into helping with the high school drama club, just because one of his JV soccer players landed the lead and bemoaned loudly enough during laps how they didn’t know if they’d be able to make the performance even work, because the choir teacher’s on maternity leave and the band director’s kind of a dick, and the needed more help—

Steve only is even in the high school for the goddamn athletics office. For, y’know, the equipments for the athletes.

Yet: here he is. Standing on a rusty fucking ladder that probably needs a spotter, to be honest, and if Steve’s admitting that then yeah, it definitely needs someone holding the goddamn thing, but here he is, already two hours after the final bell, trying to stick a painting of mattressesin a stack that only vaguely looks like mattresses so thank god that’s in the show title—

The ladder wobbles a little when he tries to catch the tarp-thing again but he can’t reach far enough without risking a long way down to a very hard stage floor, so the backdrop’s sacrificed back to the ground—a-fucking-gain—as he shifts his weight to steady the steps and it’s a close thing, he’s about ninety-seven percent sure he’s aimed the teetering feet of it back to solid ground okay but he glances around quick just in case, tries to figure if there’s anything he can grab for and let the ladder go on its own if need-be, and—

“That’s fucking dangerous, big boy,” a deep, and deeply unexpected, voice trails up from the floor, clipped with stress, with fear because Steve fucking knows that voice, and the ladder’s suddenly fully steady so he can turn and look and—

“Gonna give me a goddamn stroke or something, finding you up on one of these all by your lonesome,” Eddie’s staring up at him, and the words could be teasing, and Steve thinks maybe they intend to be, but: those eyes are too big. There’s a pulse Steve can count in that throat, even from seven-feet-up.

So he does what any man in love with his husband would do in the face of said-husband in fear, and for him: Steve climbs down careful, but quick, with Eddie’s hands scrambling to make sure of the ‘careful’ part as soon as he can reach, and then he turns, and then he lands on solid ground again to pull Eddie in and thank every colleague of his he’d been cursing in his mind for leaving him alone to do all this shit, because alone is the reason he gets to kiss his lover hard, and full; wrap around him and let him squeeze Steve to the point where it aches, where it creaks in his bones, like proof.

Lets Eddie attach his lips to suck a bruise, possessive and needy and protective all at once along his throat, and yeah:

Exactly like proof.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks when they pull apart just the slightest bit, because he wasn’t expecting Eddie to be home until probably close-on to midnight, let alone at the school well before five.

“Thought you could maybe use an extra set of hands,” Eddie shrugs like it’s a casual thing, showing up just to help out when he’s on a press cycle, and it’s evident even in his attire that that’s the case, if you know what to look for: more chains from his jeans, thicker soles on his boots just flirting with being platforms, at least two rings on every finger—save just one.

One has a ring, and a carefully-preserved and repeatedly-reinforced bread-bag tie: both serving the same purpose in very different points in their lives.

Point being: Eddie was wading through photoshoots and magazine spreads and radio spots and every fucking thing, and no matter how high he’s raising his eyebrow in a clear calling out of how he found Steve atop a shaky ladder as being obvious evidence of having use of an extra set of hands, the fact remains:

“But you’ve got the interview—“ the big ass interview with that shock-jock guy Steve kinda hates, but that’s a big fucking deal, and was the precise reason Steve wasn’t lamenting giving up his afternoon and evening to the at-least-halfway-to-lost-cause of the not-even-an-actual-full-fledged-theatre department: he wasn’t going to have Eddie home before bed anyway.

And yet: here stands the man.

“The boys have got it,” Eddie shrugs, like he actually doesn’t give a shit, and that’s…he does give a shit, he had sounded excited about it last night when they’d talked about their plans for the week over dinner, when Steve had bemoaned the travesty of this fucking production of Once Upon A Boxspring or whatever, and Eddie’d told him he was pretty sure he was going to be able to say fuck on the show even if they’d edit it, like he wouldn’t get in trouble, and he’d looked like a kid in a goddamn candy shop about it so yeah: Steve thinks he kinda did give a shit.

But he’s…not there.

“Gareth’s been itching to take the reins after he won out the final track list,” Eddie offers as explanation; “cocky bastard.”

And they collaborate on all the writing, music and lyrics, they’re not even the slightest bit competitive about it which would be hard to believe if all you saw of the members of Corroded Coffin were their goddamn shenanigans during a campaign; but the one think in their music that they docompete over?

Whose title-idea gets the opener on a given album. And Gareth did end up scooping them all when the execs came back with a shuffle. Steve had watched it unfold in real time; he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a grown man crow like Gareth had, and he is married to Edward fucking Munson.

So that’s saying something.

“Eds,” Steve tries to prod a little at the point of it all though, because Eddie’s got press, and this is a high school, and probably Eddie could get to the studio in time to catch the end of whatever, it’s prerecorded, he knows that much, they could squeeze a live interview in so they could probably do Eddie at the end and just shuffle it around, right, it’s easy, and that’s so much more important than this because this:

“Eds, it’s just a—“

“It’s the spring musical, baby,” Eddie says like he’s announcing the arrival of the president, of the Queen of England, then his eyes soften a little as he flicks at one of the real mattresses that will, presumably, be props for the actors if the show’s title isn’t a fucking lie: “you know that’s where my DM throne had its humble origins, before I elevated it to greatness?”

Steve did know that, not least because they’d smuggled Eddie in to DM a few special sessions before the gremlins graduated, and he’d taken his seat with regal aplomb every time, and Steve had learned that yeah, they used the random storage room that was mostly drama shit for Hellfire.

And the way he’d learned that was by sucking Eddie off hidden by some very ratty but very conveniently poofy ballgowns from a production of Cinderella.

“I missed you.”

Steve turns to him and blinks; Eddie’s eyes are on the mattress, his stance almost a little shy.

“You saw me this morning,” Steve doesn’t ask, exactly, but he…he’s not sure he’s following, is the thing.

“I was,” Eddie sighs, and flops to sit down on the mattress which, thankfully, is a mattress and gives a little, bounces under him.

“I was just feeling, I dunno,” he gives a shrug that fades into something like a shiver, and then Eddie’s arms come around too hug around his middle as he ducks his chin and, oh no.

None of that.

“I thought about you being, you know, you,” and Eddie gets to gesture at the mess of the stage only halfway before Steve’s catching his hand, lacing their fingers and pulling Eddie back up to standing, then back into Steve’s arms here he leans heavy, sighs deeper this time; relief instead of something shallow.

“Just you doing all this when you don’t even have a horse in the race, y’know?” Eddie muffles into the side of Steve’s neck, burrowed in tight. “And I was supposed to be in the zone about press and shit, and it just,” he shakes his head, which is more like the brush of his lips back and forth against Steve’s skin; “it wasn’t clicking at all, like I posed and did the looks and whatever,” and oh, Steve knows the looks, Steve has about half those looks printed out and framed in various parts of their home or tucked safe inside his wallet, whereas the other half he takes great joy in recreating at random to the chagrin of his darling husband, love of his whole goddamn life.

“Then Jeff asked if I wanted to duck out,” and Eddie smiles up at him, a little sheepish; they both know the boys can see right through Eddie feeling needy, or lovelorn; Steve’s grateful as shit for Eddie’s bandmates, their friends, for knowing when Eddie just needs Steve.

“I didn’t even think twice, just,” Eddie swallows hard, a little, peeking up through lashes and bangs as he exhales:

“Just wanted to see you before the middle of the fucking night.”

And what can Steve do in the face of that, really? He can’t argue it. Wouldn’t ever fucking want to.

“I love you,” he frames Eddie’s face and kiss the bridge of his nose, then soft between his brows as he breathes out with his whole heart: “so goddamn much.”

“Can you promise me you won’t do the,” Eddie tips his head behind them; “the ladder thing, at least not by yourself?” And Eddie’s eyes are so, so big again. “Like, pretty please, don’t do that again?”

“I won’t,” Steve swears it, and kisses him firm to seal the promise: “thanks for coming to the rescue.” Because there was a three percent chance Steve was going to wipe the fuck out from very very high, and he’s have survived it, but he’s not twenty anymore, and it would have fucking sucked, probably for a while.

“Always, baby,” Eddie murmurs, still tight against Steve lips before he straightens a little, and this time he’s framing Steve’s face, but more holding him still in place, emphatic:

“Actually, amendment,” he says seriously, eyes darting between Steve’s a tiny-touch frantic: “next time you need to be on a ladder, you call me first,” he damn-well declares it, rather than asks; “so I can hold it steady.”

“My hero,” Steve breathes against him with a smile, and there’s not even a hint of teasing in it.

“I don’t trust any other hands to catch you, baby,” Eddie tells him, a little too raw; full sincerity bleeding from him all the sudden as he caresses down the cheeks he’s still cupping: “no one else in the whole wide world appreciates what you’re worth.”

“And what’s that, exactly,” Steve scoffs a little, playful where he’s held in Eddie’s arms but Eddie: Eddie’s holding him tight, now, and his heartbeat’s heavy where he’s moving to crush Steve to his chest, and there’s a little wavering pitch of something in his voice when he whispers:

“The whole wide world,” and oh.

That’s the answer.

It’s Steve’s answer, too, to the same exact question, but hearing it said so plain never stops feeling like the ending and remaking of the whole wide world, every time.

So yeah, Steve has to take a minute to swallow through the tightness in his throat, and maybe he does that with his forehead bowed against his husbands so they breathe each other in as a rule just in the course of living in the moment, together—and when the straighten up Steve steals a kiss first, quick but hard, with feeling, before he cracks his neck and sighs, taking in the scene that’s settled around them.

“Help me try and figure this out to hang?” Steve kicks at the tarp-tapestry, and Eddie walks its perimeter critically before frowning up at Steve.

“Think it needs some touch ups,” he pronounces solemnly, and fuck, yeah, all the color-dust from the useless staple-holes and the falling. But his husband’s actually really good with details, and matching colors, and using a brush, and fantasy settings—

“Paint’s in the back,” he says with a lilt of suggestion and Eddie lights up and grabs Steve’s hand to drag him toward the promise of painting, like maybe all he needed really was just…this.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

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sam-loves-seb · 1 year

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steddie christmas party au

the thing is--there's an office holiday party coming up.

steve, who works as a guidance counselor at hawkins middle, knows that every year the staff throws a holiday party. he wasn't here for the one last year, off visiting nancy and robin in boston for the holidays, but everyone says it's always a good time and the teachers have all been hounding him to go.

the thing is--he wouldn't even mind going alone. he actually likes some of his co-workers, and he has enough natural charm to survive one night of bad food and christmas music and punch that's just a little too strong to have more than two glasses without getting wasted. he knows that he could go alone and everything would be fine.

but he doesn't really want to.

"plus one?" the school secretary says with raised brows as he hands in his rsvp card. "i didn't know you were seeing anybody."

steve just shrugs as he turns to head back to his office. it's not like people haven't tried to pry into his love life before--some of the female teachers make their availability blaringly obvious to him every time he answers the question "do you have a girlfriend" with "no"--they just haven't gone about it in the right way.

it's not like he's hiding his relationship, people just assume, and they assume incorrectly. that's not his fault.

"the staff christmas party?" eddie asks that night as they're getting ready for bed. "you seriously want to go to that?"

"you don't have to come," steve tells him around a mouthful of toothpaste, then spits. "i just thought it might be nice for you to meet some of my co-workers, and for some of them to meet you. but if you don't want to come with me, that's okay, really."

"babe, if you want me there, i'm there," eddie tells him as he ditches his jeans for flannel pajamas. "just don't be surprised when i get tipsy off the punch and make a fool out of you on the dance floor."

and so, they went to the party with steve dressed in his usual khakis with this favorite ugly christmas sweater worn over a casual dress shirt, and eddie in his usual black on black, though he switched the band t-shirt for a button-up. he added a red tie last minute to try and be more festive for the party, even though steve kept telling him he could wear whatever he wanted.

they walk into the gym hand in hand, and more than a few people stop talking to turn and stare.

but eddie's not paying attention because he's looking at the tinsel hung up on the walls and wondering how they got it that high up, and steve ignores all the surprised faces looking at him until he spots his group of friends tucked together in the corner, some with their spouses, some without.

he drags eddie over to them and introduces him as his boyfriend--saying it loud enough for every goddamn eavesdropper to hear it clearly--and eddie shakes hands and smiles as steve's friends greet him without missing a beat.

they eat and they drink and they dance, and most of the party gets over their initial shock pretty quickly after seeing how happy steve is with eddie around. the rest of the night goes by quickly, and someone even snaps a picture of steve kissing eddie under the mistletoe hanging over the gym door.

by the time the students come back from break in the new year the rumors about mr. harrington sexuality are basically non-existent--thank you short attention spans--and most of the teachers have stopped asking him if he has a girlfriend. steve feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, one he didn't even realize he was carrying. it's freeing, having everyone--everyone who matters--know about about eddie.

and when the staff christmas party rolls around again next year, steve has twice as much fun dragging eddie under the mistletoe with a ring on his finger and a date picked out for the spring.

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

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Rock star Eddie Munson starts trending because the true crime girlies get their claws in the Hawkins Serial Killer Story and start posting THEORIES about WHAT REALLY HAPPENED until terminally offline middle school guidance counselor Steve Harrington creates a TikTok account to defend his husband’s honor and rip the true crime communities a new one is this anything.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #thinking about Eddie’s story winding up on like a grosser version of my favorite murder #there’s some kind of cutesy meme that ciruculates that makes fun of Chrissy’s death and he spirals #Steve is like someone show me how to log onto the internet so I can burn it to the ground

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juicinmyjams · 2 years

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untitled gym class fic

A ball whistles past his face, centimeters from his nose.

Eddie doesn’t want to be here.

He wouldn’t be here under normal circumstances but his guidance counselor had practically hunted him down, dragged him to her office, and told him that if he didn’t start getting his ass to class and actually staying there, it would be Hawkins High Senior Year, round three for him.

So now, instead of spending fourth period doing literally anything else, he’s here, in gym class, fighting for his life during the dodgeball unit.

Or, more like ducking and diving and weaving and running for it, death grip on the ball he’s had since the beginning of the match, fingers creaking from how hard he’s holding it. It’s all about survival and ignoring the stitch in his side.

There’s something in the air today and Eddie would put good fucking money on it being Harrington and Hargrove on opposite teams. He’s never been one for high school politics but he would have had to smoke his whole stash and then dip into his supplies to miss the power struggle between those two. Especially the Monday they both came to school, beat to hell and back. No one could figure out what happened and both of them were silent about it.

Still, it never really concerned Eddie until right now that he’s smack in the middle of the fucking fire fight the two have instigated in the middle of 4th period.

And it’s a big one. He’d thought, maybe like an idiot, that it would have fizzled out. King Steve had seemed to be more than happy to give up his crown, letting Hargrove slip into the power vacuum he’d left behind.

Until today.

It’s a weird place to make a stand, the dodgeball court in gym class. Eddie’s not sure what changed, but it’s like the return of the fucking king here. Harrington’s a live wire, like he used to be. And Hargrove’s putting up a hell of a fight about it, giving back as good as he gets.

Maybe something happened over the weekend, or somebody said something in the locker rooms.

Whatever it is, Harrington is in top form today, running around the court, nigh untouchable as he bends to scoop up rubber balls and hurl them back across the center divide, thighs flexing in those short Hawkins High P.E uniform shorts.

Another ball comes at Eddie and he doesn’t have time to duck, brain still lagging over the mole on Harrington’s mid-thigh. All he can do is raise his hands to block. It doesn’t hit him, just bounces off the one he’s been holding, sending it up into the air.

Harrington is on it immediately, catching it before it hits the ground and then speedballing it back to the other side, getting two people out in one go.

“Nice one, Munson!” He says, looks up and-

Oh, it’s horrible. Awful. The worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie.

The guys got color high on his cheeks, flushed from battle and his hair is still fucking good, even as it flops over his forhead. His eyes are the worst, sparkling, with crinkles around the corners and he’s smiling, full on, like he’s having a blast.

All Eddie can do is blink, rapidly as his brain forces him to auto-reboot on the spot.

Then, someone says something. Eddie doesn’t know who it is at first, or what is said, still can’t pull himself away from Harrington’s face so he sees the whole thing, as the guy looks away, watches as the joy slides right off only stopping until he’s hit a frown.

It’s fucking criminal.

Eddie follows Harrington’s line of sight, finds Hargrove at the other end. The guy also has a kind of manic glee on his face, one that comes out at parties, when he’s being a dick. There’s nothing about it that’s happy, only a sick kind of triumph as whatever he says hits home.

It’s not planned, what happens next. Eddie doesn’t even think about it until he’s got his ball in hand, cocked and ready to go. And then he’s throwing, releasing, watching as it goes sailing through the air.

As it connects with Hargrove’s upper chest. As he recoils, almost in slow motion, and this time it's his face that morphs, to anger, surprise. The ball bounces off of him and falls to the floor, dribbling away in the sudden silence of the gym as everyone falls quiet to watch.

Hargrove stands there almost in shock, until the teacher blows the whistle and tells him he’s out.

And then there’s laughter, right next to Eddie. Harrington’s not smiling like he was, but it’s close. A little bit of sunshine in the gross gym, his laugh sending Eddie’s stomach straight into knots. The noise of the game kicks back in as people start up again.

“Great throw, man!”

And then he’s coming for Eddie, hand raised, still fucking laughing.

Eddie’s no good at the high five thing that sports guys do, but he manages okay, Harrington’s sweaty palm meeting his own with a satisfying clap.

These are the most coordinated five seconds of Eddie’s life and he can’t believe they’re happening during a dodgeball game.

Harrington crosses behind him, to head back into the fray and-

And then there’s a pat, firm and quick. Unmistakable. Right on Eddie’s left ass cheek.

Eddie’s brain shorts. Vacates the premise entirely and he’s left blinking after Harrington as he doesn’t look back, carries on dealing out carnage, dodgeball style. Picking up balls and launching them across the court with precision. Going on with life like he didn't just completely alter Eddie's.

Eddie’s still watching, not with an open mouth, definitely no, when suddenly he sees stars.

The sting of rubber doesn’t register until a few seconds later, and it’s not until he hears the whistle of the teacher does he realize that he’s been hit, smacked right across the face.

He’s out.

He turns and walks on jelly legs, to the bleachers. Finds a spot he doesn’t have to climb for and sinks to his seat.

This comes from me being too competitive at my recreational sports league and this post by @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

EDIT: how could i forget this post by @yudol-skorbi which is always the high school steddie vibe to me

#steddie brainrot #steddie fic #steddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steddie au #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #juicewrites #mywriting

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a-little-unsteddie · 11 months

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Give Love a Chance || Original Post

the other day @ladykailitha posted something that just sparked so much joy, i decided i absolutely had to expand upon and write a full story abt it. idk how fast i’ll work on this, as my main focus currently is on the big bang fic, but i wanted to post a prologue/teaser of sorts. (side note: i am definitely stealing piratefishmama’s layout, shhh)

enjoy! -rowan

Steve wasn’t sure how he had gotten here, to be honest. Well, he did, but he didn’t know it would actually get this far. He would like to place the blame on either Dustin or Robin—or both, both was good, too. The point was, Steve was completely faultless in it.

When Steve got home earlier, after a long day at work, he had checked the mail, as he usually does. He saw a letter addressed to him, which, to be fair, makes sense, seeing as it was in his mailbox, but it was the sender that had surprised him. It had been several weeks—at least—since Robin and Dustin had cornered him and forced him to fill out an application to be a bachelor on Give Love a Chance, and he had honestly forgotten about it. He had only agreed to submit an application to the show because he had been so sure that he wasn’t going to make the cut. Who would want to watch a dumb reality love gameshow with Steve as the bachelor? A middle school guidance counselor with a five year old daughter?

Steve had still held that opinion even as he opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. The confidence in his thoughts only waned when he began to read the letter, his eyes had slowly widened and his mouth fell open. He reached for his cell, instinctually calling Robin as he reread the contents of the letter.

“Y’ello?”

“Did you seriously just answer with—nevermind. Robin tell me why the fuck I’m staring at a letter telling me I was chosen to be on Give Love a Chance?” He asked, pacing the length of his kitchen.

“Oh my God!” Robin shouted from his phone, causing Steve to wince and adjust his hearing aid. “Why do you sound upset? This is what you agreed to! This is why we sent in the application in the first place! This is great news!”

“Robin, you and I both know that I only agreed because I thought nothing would come of it.” Steve said flatly, checking the time on the stove. He still had twenty or so minutes before he needed to leave to grab Matilda from preschool. “I’m going to tell them I changed my mind.”

“Absolutely not! I’ll never forgive you. Dustin will never forgive you.”

“What? Am I supposed to just do the show?”

“Yes!” Robin said enthusiastically. Steve let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What am I going to do with Mattie, huh? I can’t just take her with me, she has school!”

“Dustin already told you that he and Will would take her in!”

“‘Take her in’? Rob, she isn’t a stray cat. She’s a whole tiny human.” Steve said with heavy exasperation. “He may have said that, but that doesn’t mean he will say the same thing now! There’s a difference between us joking about me getting accepted and the reality of taking care of a four year old!” Steve walked to the kitchen sink, filled himself a glass of tap water and set it to the side.

“So, we ask them again! I’m sure they’ll agree! You know they’ve been wanting to adopt! You can think of this as practice for them!”

Steve stared blankly out of the window above his kitchen sink, then groaned loudly and tipped his head back to glare at the ceiling.

“I don’t think I can leave her for the month—or more—it’ll take to film.” Steve admitted with a frown. He could immediately feel Robin’s shift in demeanor with the soft sigh she let out.

“Oh, dingus. You’ll be okay. We can video call her everyday while we're gone.” Robin said softly, trying to soothe him. “I think you should give it a go. You deserve to give love a chance.”

Steve let out a loud groan, which dissolved into a soft laugh. “You did not just say that.”

“I did.”

“That was so bad.”

“I know. But it’s true!”

“You’ll be with me?”

“Every step of the way.”

“..Fine.”

—x—

Dear Steve Harrington,

Congratulations! You have been selected as one of the bachelors to move forward into the next stage—interviewing and filming! We believe you are a perfect fit, and cannot wait to have you at our Los Angeles studio!

If you are still interested, please contact us via email to receive more details about what comes next.

Thank you,

Murray Bauman, Host of ‘Give Love a Chance’

#aaahhh #i’m nervous to post this #i have so many plans for this #hopefully it lives up to the prompt :P #give love a chance #glac #reality show au #love gameshow au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #st #steve harrington x eddie munson #unsteddie writing #dustin henderson #will byers #dustin/will

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superblysubpar · 7 months

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📼Remember to vote at the bottom // Details for the Trope or Treat Madness Event found here

📼 We're doing things a little different with this one! I highly recommend reading the little insights into each character's story beforehand here, as the intro belows is told from a narration while they all start the evening together. After this, you'll be voting on which couple we follow for the remainder of the night and it would follow the typical "you" pov with the boy who wins - but the stories are very much intertwined. There are things that happen before and after that would be revealed in future scenes if they make it to the next round and/or in the final one shot if declared the winner - the story told in slightly different perspectives as well.

📼 warnings: You're given names for this one, sorry to do it. Blair for Steve's lady, Vanessa for Eddie's (but used as sparingly as possible) | a sprinkling of toxic relationships, hints to infidelity, yelling, death, blood and gore descriptions as well as use and mentions of weapons like knives and guns will be present throughout the entire story after this| mentions of drugs and alcohol and their use and effects | the little intro image below is playing off of the one from Fargo, and I don't own it

On the evening of Friday, October 27th, 2023, a group of people, let’s call them old friends, are brought back together through the twists of fate and their own stupidity.

Four couples, and none knowing what the others have gotten themselves into after all of these years apart. None knowing what was about to transpire, and how, as a direct result of their actions, beloved friends are going to die.

Our scene opens with Robin Buckley, a gold strappy heel reveals itself first, stepping onto the cold, gray sidewalk. A pale leg on display from the high slit of the dark emerald and silky dress wrapped around her figure. Black polished fingers take the hand offered to her by her date - let’s call her Gabriella. Robin’s freckled face and bright blue eyes shine in the lights of the marquee up at her. Gold chandelier earrings, a modest lip color, and a dramatic eye - perhaps it was a little too much for a simple show at the Orpheum. A fancier look than most, but dammit, Miss Buckley needed this.

You see, Robin is a middle school music teacher. She spends her days pointing at a kid who thinks he’s slick putting gum on the back of his sheet music stand. Calling him out and making him wear the Dingus top hat for the rest of class, marking a talley in the you suck column on the whiteboard and the rest of the class groaning - one step further away from their pizza party. Her eye frequently twitches, for when she asks the student’s what she just said, one quite literally plays the sound of crickets on their smartphone. Yet she loves her job - her students are wonderful, most are respectful, and many are in band because they truly enjoy it.

However, twelve to fourteen year olds these days have no trouble learning the latest tiktok dance in less than five minutes but cannot nail the transition to the chorus of a song they’re learning. She’s guidance counselor when the tweens come in crying, she’s a dentist when she yells at one to get the scissors out of his mouth and cries that he absolutely cannot fix his braces in her classroom. She is benefactor for supplies, she’s an extra custodian, she is superwoman.

She is, simply put, not paid enough.

Which exactly why she got her side gig, and is wrapped up in the mess of tonight. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Robin and Gabby enter the Orpheum, plush red carpet beneath heels as they make their way up grand staircases towards a bar. They don’t know that they’re about to cross paths with old friends for the first time tonight - that it’s not just a happy coincidence.

For our second couple of the night sits at the bar with their drinks in hand already - Nancy and Jonathan Byers.

These two, oh these two. They’re quite a pair.

Nancy Wheeler Byers is in a simple but elegant black cocktail dress. It hugs her hips she works hard for, her shoes and jewelry silver, her clutch a shimmering little thing to match. Her make-up pops, hues and shades that were matched professionally, and her brown curls are pinned up in an old Hollywood style.

Jonathan is wearing a suit.

Nancy raises her extra dry martini to her lips and Jonathan’s thumbs slip down the side of the tumbler holding an old fashioned, he stares at it in disgust. He hates cocktails and would much rather hold a beer.

But that’s not how Nancy does things.

To any other person walking by, to Robin and Gabriella making eye contact with Miss Byers, these two look picture perfect. They are divine, they are a couple straight out of a catalog. Their love is the stuff of myths.

Literally.

Behind the smile pushing up Nancy’s cheeks, behind the black and white candid photography on Jonathan’s carefully curated Instagram, there’s pain and mess and so much we have to uncover.

Robin rushes up to her, an arm around her shoulders, “Oh my god! How long has it been?”

“Too long,” Nancy squeezes her fingers, setting her martini on the black tabletop and motioning for two more to the bartender.

Robin’s eyes bounce between the two old friends, a genuine smile on her face as she gushes, “God, I mean what are the odds? How are you both? What have you been up to?”

Nancy and Jonathan’s eyes dart to the other, tight smiles before responding in unison, “Nothing much!”

Nothing much meaning they’ve dug themselves into holes they can’t get out of, and perhaps they don’t want to. Because she can’t let something go and he can’t say no to her. When Nancy Wheeler Byers finds a loose thread, she has to pull until the whole thing is unraveled. She has to commit, she has to be the best, and her passion and obsession for answers always leads her to forget about others and how her actions have consequences. And it is for this reason, that many believe that what is about to occur tonight is entirely her fault.

But, we'll see about that.

Because, while these old friends start catching up, Gabriella’s smile falls as her gaze makes contact with a pair of hazel ones in the mirror above the bar. He ducks his head, his hand with a thick family ring on his middle finger grabs the elbow of a woman in red, whispering in her ear. His caramel and honey hair styled, pushed back but stray strands will soon fall over his forehead. His black suit is tailored, a bowtie that’s far too expensive, and his shoes shine. The lady in red, we’ll call this one Blair, has accessories and make-up that are equally as professionally done and sophisticated as Nancy’s but far more expensive. The woman attached to the wrist his fingers now curl around turns her head, smiling directly at Gabriella and waving. They begin to head over to the group and Gabriella panics, squeezing Robin’s fingers and beelining towards the line snaking out of the ladies room.

Gabriella’s lack of subtlety is not lost on either half of our third couple. Steve Harrington watches it happen, his throat bobbing and his fingers flexing at his side. Mrs. Harrington finally has the confirmation she needs that her husband is fucking his secretary. But is that what’s happening? Only time will tell, we suppose. That is afterall, how a story works.

Nancy sees the Harrington’s first after Gabriella’s abrupt departure and she smiles. Kisses to each apple of each of their cheeks and a firm handshake from Jonathan.

“Steve?”

Steve Harrington turns, and Robin Buckley beams.

“Ro-Robin! Oh my god!” He engulfs her in a hug and she laughs, the two old friends holding each other tightly. Mrs. Harrington looks at the pair then back at Nancy and Jonathan, confused, and even more so when Nancy gulps down her third martini and Jonathan’s hand shakes before grabbing the detested old fashioned.

Blair has never seen Steve so genuine, not since their early years, not since before their engagement. It’s like the weight of his life is lifted from his shoulders from this honey-haired goddess and suddenly she’s not so sure it’s the secretary he’s fucking.

Steve’s hands land on her shoulders, hers on his forearms as he shakes his head, eyes wide, “Wh-what? What are you doing here?”

Robin laughs, gesturing over her shoulder, “My girlfriend got tickets.”

Steve’s eyes dart up, Gabriella’s head ducks down quickly because as we’ve established, subtle and her don’t mesh. Steve inhales sharply, “She, oh, uh…wait, what?”

Yeah definitely fucking the secretary. The secretary who’s dating his old friend. The friend whom Mrs. Harrington has never heard of before tonight.

Before Blair Harrington can begin to question more, before Nancy Wheeler can start to confirm and piece her puzzle together, another familiar voice breaks the group's focus, and our fourth and final couple is introduced.

“What the fuck?”

The group turns at the question, finding Edward Munson in a suit and a beautiful woman holding his hand. She wears a navy dress, this one is Vanessa. She glances at the three gorgeous women staring at her husband. Her brain begins to calculate just how much their earrings cost, let alone the rest of their ensembles, and she folds in on herself, trying to pull and hide behind Eddie.

He squeezes her fingers as Robin steps forward. “Eddie? Oh my god, seriously is someone playing some like prank tonight? Did the kids do this? How are we all here?”

A great question indeed, Robin.

What are you all doing here?

Before this question can be answered, the soft lighting overhead flickers twice and a chime rings out, signaling it’s time to take their seats.

Blair Harrington starts to head towards their box, Vanessa Munson glances down at the paper ticket in her hand and tries to figure out which direction to go, Gabriella (we never did give her a last name did we?) is nowhere to be seen.

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler Byers, Jonathan Byers, and Robin Buckley all stand in a circle, speaking at once.

“Well, we should-”

“Where are you stay-”

“I miss you guy-”

But it’s Nancy’s voice that rings out the clearest.

“Right back here. Intermission. Please.”

With nods, fingers slipping into wives who tug on them, and smiles - some tight lipped and some genuine - the party dissolves and the orchestra makes its first harmonizing note.

The show is starting.

Please vote for who will be moving on and revealing more of their story.

Remember: whoever wins this week, faces the winner of Creatures of the Night - which will have more revealed on Thursday, Oct 12th

Choose wisely!

#superbly subpars trope or treat madness #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic

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schrijverr · 2 years

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The Eddie

Steve’s a teacher and constantly talking about his sweet and caring partner, Eddie. When they finally meet him, they are confronted with the fact that sweet Eddie is a metal band leader, who is very intimidating.

This is very much based off this post by @harringtonisms

On AO3.

Ships: Steve x Eddie

Warnings: none really.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Harrington, or Steve as he begs his students to call him, is an oddity at the local public high school. He is still young, muscled but slender, with most girls fawning over him and his hair. He dresses sporty (expected of a PE teacher) but also soft for his hours as guidance counselor. Most importantly he is openly queer, which is very rare in 90s Indiana.

And Steve probably wouldn’t have gotten far in his career if he didn’t have the biggest ‘I don’t give a fuck’-attitude out there. Whenever parents complain or student comment, he’ll just raise his brow, like their opinion is so far out of the ballpark of his worries that caring about it seems plainly ridiculous.

So, he still works as a teacher and guidance counselor, and despite the setbacks he is massively popular under the students.

His PE classes aren’t like most. He has a rigorous stretching and warming up routine as well as a cooling down period, which everyone is required to follow to a t, though he doesn’t care much about how well they participate with the actual lesson. And he always talks while they go through the routine, either about self care or something he saw or anything random.

Those talks are the reason everyone is aware Steve is not straight, because he always – always – mentions his partner Eddie at least once. It’s like he won’t survive if he doesn’t mention the man every hour.

Jessie absolutely adores Steve. She is currently a Senior and has had Steve for PE throughout her entire school career, a fact she can’t be more glad about. She hates PE and Steve has never cared that she always sat on the bench as long as she participated with stretching, warming up and cooling down. And as a closeted lesbian, Steve is quite a comfort about her own future.

She loves hearing Steve talk about whatever Eddie did that day, because from what she has heard he is the sweetest guy out there. The way Steve talks about him is almost enough for her to go straight at this point.

Today is such a day. They’re stretching, following Steve’s lead as he says: “It is good to stretch. You are all too young to know, but there will come a moment in your life when sleeping wrong will affect you for a whole day. I fell asleep with Eddie on the couch last night. Don’t recommend that at all.”

He changes pose and everyone follows: “Luckily Eddie woke up in the middle of the night and carried me to bed. I guess hauling around his stuff has been good for his muscles. And I have been roping him into regular exercise, because it’s good for you. That’s why I think PE is so important, regular movement is important for everyone. It doesn’t have to be intense, you just have to keep moving every now and then. So, up, up, people, some laps, please.”

There is groaning, but everyone gets ready for laps. They all know there is no set limit or speed, you just need to keep moving for the seven minutes Steve sets. That’s all.

And the next class it is: “A pet is a good way to keep exercising when you’re a professional, since they need love and attention. What I won’t recommend is adopting three kittens.”

“Why did you adopt three then?” Johnny, one of the jocks, asks.

Steve rolls his eyes and says: “Because Eddie didn’t want to separate any of them from their siblings,” in a tone that is too fond for the annoyance he’s trying to convey.

“That’s kinda sweet,” Amanda comments and Jessie can’t help but agree with the cheerleader.

“It is, but he isn’t the one that got woken up at 5:00 AM by multiple kittens on his face,” Steve rolls his eyes, finishing the cooling down. “Anyway, my point is, think of things you enjoy that bring movement into your life. It’s not really homework, more something to consider.”

After that they all file out of the gym to get changed in the musty changing room that has seen the sweat of too many teenagers.

And the talk of Eddie doesn’t stick to his classes. Jessie goes to counseling with him, appreciating how he takes her seriously, how he never presumes to know her better and his suggestions are actually helpful, like he has been through something himself.

But that doesn’t stop him from coming in with a rumpled sweater as he says: “Sorry, I look a mess. Eddie is away right now and he usually irons my clothes in the morning.”

“Eddie irons your clothes every morning?” Jessie asks, unable to help herself, craving to know more about her teacher’s domestic life, even though it’s a bit strange.

However, going off Steve’s soft look, he doesn’t mind one bit to talk about his partner. “Yeah, he’s really sweet. He has looser hours, but he gets up with me anyway. Always says that since he doesn’t have to get dressed that it’s the least he can do.”

“That’s really sweet,” Jessie smiles.

“It is,” Steve agrees, before shuffling through his notes, glasses perched on his face. “Now, you said last time you’ve been sleeping a little better, that still the case?” And with that they move back to Jessie and her problems.

Still, even without guidance counselor sessions the Senior class has a pretty good idea of who Eddie is. He is a sweetheart and a softy, but overall an average caring dude, who has managed to capture the heart of their PE teacher.

But when they actually meet the man, no one recognizes him.

They’re in PE class, doing the cooling down when Jessie notices a man at the doorway, who instantly makes her uncomfortable with the way they are all bend over. He is dressed in black ripped jeans, a dark gray shirt with red letters reading ‘The Devil Was an Angel Too’ and has a leather jacket on. His neck is full of chains and his hands adorned by rings, hints of tattoos peaking out everywhere.

Yet, he does nothing but stand there for a moment, leaning against the door frame. His long dark, curly hair hides his expression, so Jessie doesn’t know what he’s staring at exactly. Though he seems relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, heavy boot resting on its tip.

Obliviously Steve continues on, moving into another stretch as he continues: “This is very good for you back, important for you all since you’re carrying a heavy bag around. I try to get Eddie to do this every night, but he’s so stubborn.”

“You shouldn’t be spreading lies like that, sweetheart,” the man speaks up, immediately getting the attention of everyone.

A hushed whispers go to the group of students as everyone notices the man, who at least sounds much nicer than he looks like, despite the words. However, more notable is how Steve lights up at the sudden appearance as he loudly exclaims: “Eddie! What are you doing here?”

That gets even more attention as multiple people repeat the name in surprise. Everyone giving up the pretense of cooling down in favor of gawking at The Eddie.

The Eddie in question looses a bit of his confidence under the students, before puffing himself up and grinning, revealing a sweet face. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” before turning to Steve and asking: “Have you been talking about me, princess?”

Steve has finally made his way through the crowd and is hugging the man closely. His soft colorful work out clothes contrast heavily against the metal look of Eddie. He is beaming as he shrugs: “I can’t help that you’re my favorite topic.”

“You flatter me,” Eddie smiles and his face and voice speaks to how much he adores the man in his arms.

“Not that I don’t love to see you, but you were supposed to come home tonight. Did something happen on tour?” Steve asks, brow furrowing as he tucks a bit of hair behind Eddie’s ear.

“Nah, all good,” Eddie assures him. “We got home early, because I drove for a bit so our driver could rest.”

Steve snorts: “Probably not that restful with you behind the wheel.”

“Uhm, excuse you,” Eddie guffaws, faux offended. “I distinctly remember one very eventful drive in that stolen RV.”

“Special circumstances and we gave that back,” Steve protests as the class raises their eyebrows to each other at the information they’re learning about their nice teacher.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Eddie smirks, before procuring a bag. “I was planning on crashing, but saw you forgot your lunch, so, you know, two birds on stone. You need the food and I was starved off your face, pretty boy.”

Suddenly the caring softie they’ve come to know through the stories. Because no matter how intimidating Eddie looks, that all falls away in how he looks at Steve. Not to mention how he came here, despite the fact that he was tired, just to see Steve and make sure he’s okay.

Jessie is near tears at the thought of someone caring so much, before she starts to think closer. Her little brother had mentioned one of his bands to her, shown her pictures too. And this man before her seemed very familiar for some reason.

“Oh my god,” she’s suddenly loudly yelling, despite hating attention, “you’re Eddie Munson! You’re the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. My brother loves you.”

Everyone is looking at her, but she’s looking at Eddie, who first looks surprised then a big smile breaks out on his face. “Your brother has great taste,” Eddie tells her.

“Wait he’s famous?” Amanda asks.

Now Eddie looks bashful as he explains: “I won’t say famous-famous. We can get a crowd, but we’re not doing world tours exactly. It’s a metal band.”

“I’m glad you don’t,” Steve interjects. “I don’t think I could miss you for that long.”

“If I ever get that famous, you can quit your job and travel with me,” Eddie promises, kissing Steve’s temple. Before he teases: “You can finally embrace your trophy wife tendencies.”

Steve playfully slaps his chests and protests: “I don’t have trophy wife tendencies.”

“Tell that to the mayor after they cleared my name.” Eddie hip bumps him.

“He deserved that,” Steve replies, face darkening.

“Alright, lets not get into that now,” Eddie placates him. “You obviously have a class to teach and I’ve distracted you enough. I should go and let you get back to teaching.”

And Jessie swears she’s seen her little cousins pull similar faces to Steve’s as he pleads: “My break is right after. You can wait for a little, right?” Eddie looks on the fence, so Steve pulls out the big guns. “I haven’t seen you in a month, Eds. Please.”

“Alright, alright, sweetheart,” Eddie gives in. “I’ll wait in your office.”

“Great,” Steve smiles in that smug way that one smiles after winning an argument or getting their way. Then he turns to the class and says: “Come on, walking people. No running. This is to cool down, not to get you pumped up again.”

As they walk, Jessie suddenly has more friends than before as everyone comes to question her what she knows about Eddie. She doesn’t know much, often tuning her little brother out, but she knows more than most.

So, they spend the last minutes of class gossiping about how different Eddie is to what they though he’d be like. At first Jessie can talk along, until they start mention how hot he is. To save herself, she mumbles something about him having a nice voice, before quickly making her way to the changing rooms.

Once she’s done, she hesitates. If she tells her brother about this and she didn’t get Eddie’s autograph, he’ll kill her, but she also doesn’t want to interrupt the recent reunion of the two. In the end, she swings by at the end of her lunch period.

Tentatively she knocks on the door until she gets permission to enter. Then she opens the door, popping in her head. Eddie is sitting on the usual talking chair, though he’s sprawled over it, while Steve sits in his own chair, leaning heavily on the table to be closer to Eddie. When he sees her, he smiles: “Ah, Jessie, anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, uhm,” she stumbles. “This is a bit embarrassing, but my little brother will murder me, if I didn’t ask for your autograph, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie snorts. “Mr. Munson, did ya hear that, princess? They have some respect for me, unlike your rascals.”

“My rascals are also yours and I had nothing to do with their manners,” Steve protests.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves him away, before focusing back on Jessie and giving her a disarming and sweet smile. “And it’s no problem, I’m glad your brother likes our music so much. You have anything particular to sign?”

“Uhm, not really and thanks so much,” she tells him.

“Here,” Steve hands him a piece of paper alongside a pen.

Eddie raises a brow at him and asks: “Do you have always our merch just lying around in your office like that?” before signing and handing Jessie a card with the full band on it.

Steve shrugs: “Of course.”

“God, your perfect, I love you,” Eddie breathes as if he’s in awe of Steve. It makes Jessie feel a bit like she’s intruding on a special moment, but she can’t bring herself to look away either. Because Steve is blushing and having a soft smile in turn and they just look so goddamn happy.

Unable to stop herself, she says: “Thanks again. I hope you get to catch up properly, you’re an adorable couple.”

Both of them send her a knowing smile, before thanking her and sending her on her merry way. She doesn’t know what she feels exactly, but she feels mostly seen and happy. Maybe hopeful for the future.

With lighter spirit she walks through the hallways, she can’t wait for next PE class.

A/N:

I considered making Steve a History teacher, because it would make the story easier to get him talking and he does seem like someone who could become a History teacher, but actually cool PE teacher!Steve lives in my brain rent free XP

#rr writing #eddie lives au #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things #steddie #st #st post season 4 #OCs

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sky-neverending · 1 year

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AU where Steve adopted an 8 year old Dustin at 18 bc his mom died and no one else could take him so he fought the state until he was given full rights to be Dustin’s caretaker and now 5 years later Dustin is going into 8th grade and Steve is a guidance counselor at the middle school bc he wants to help the kids and he meets the new English teacher and *gasp* it’s Eddie Munson, whom he vaguely remembers from high school. and *double gasp* he’s hot as shit and incredible with the kids and Dustin is obsessed with him so Steve sees him more and more and slowly falls in love with him. And then Dustin realizes what’s happening and invites his teacher over for dinner like it’s normal, except Eddie accepts because he is also madly in love with Steve and then Dustin locks them on the front porch until they kiss. and now Dustin’s adoptive father and his english teacher are dating.

i’ve sort of already written the beginning of this if you couldn’t tell…..

#stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve is a father #dustin and steve #english teacher eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #teacher au #parent au #i need to finish this #i love meddling dustin

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racooninatrashcan · 1 year

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I know people talk a lot about Steve becoming a guidance counselor or a gym teacher. However I believe he would be one of those extremely chaotic STEM teachers that everyone has had at some point.

Like the teacher I had i middle school that threw a Home Depot bucket of scissors on the floor and kicked it across a room full of children cause he couldn’t find a ruler. Or that math teacher that switched from his ‘teacher personality’ to his ‘dad personality’ so he could give us a pep talk whenever someone in the class said something concerning. Maybe a physics teacher who drops a broken printer and a pen from the top of a staircase to explain gravity every year. Or that one teacher that jumped over multiple rows of desks like he was running from the law to prove a point.

One of those teachers who is absolutely terrifying but in a fun way that you somehow only get in the math or science department.

#steve harrington #stranger things #teacher steve harrington #steve future au #chaotic Steve

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usafphantom2 · 7 months

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Red Eagle Reminisces, The Story Of An Aggressor Pilot

September 27, 2023 Vintage Aviation News Articles 0

Members of the 4477th Tactical Evaluation Squadron standing in front of a MiG-21 under evaluation. USAF Photo

By Stephen Chapis

“After a few minutes of waiting, Colonel Chuck Holden called me into his office. He was in a flight suit with his feet up on his desk and a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. I saluted and as he returned a half-ass salute he leaned forward and shook a piece of paper at me. He growled, ‘Z-man. How the [expletive] did you get this job?’ I replied, ‘What job would that be, sir?’ He congratulated me as he handed me the paper. It was a letter, on 4477th letterhead, from George Gennin notifying my wing commander that I was being reassigned to the Red Eagles as of October 1983. That’s how I found out I got the job.”

Photo by Stephen Chapis

Due in no small part to restrictive, politically imposed rules of engagement, the U.S. Air Force kill ratio during the Vietnam War was just 2.04-to-1. In the 1990s, during operations over the Middle East and the Balkans, Air Force fighter crews scored 50 aerial victories for no losses. This dramatic turnaround is often credited to the advent of the Red Flag in 1975, but it was a number of classified exploitation programs and the establishment of a top-secret squadron that operated MiG-17s, MiG-21s, and MiG-23s that allowed the Air Force to achieve such unchallenged air dominance.

Two USAF F-5Es flanking a MiG-17 and MiG-21 of the 4477th Tactical Evaluation Squadron. United States Air Force. [USAF Photo via William R Peake]

In early 1968, the United States borrowed and exploited the capabilities of an alleged ex-Iraqi MiG-21F-13 Fishbed E under the classified program Have Doughnut. The following year, the U.S. obtained a quartet of MiG-17F Fresco Cs, also alleged to be Iraqi in origin, and exploited those jets under the Have Drill and Have Ferry. In 1973, exploitation programs such as these were formalized under Have Idea, and five years later, the highly classified 4477th Test and Evaluation Squadron (TES) was established at the equally classified Tonopah Test Range, north of Nellis AFB, Nevada.

Members of the 4477th Tactical Evaluation Squadron standing in front of a MiG-21 under evaluation. [USAF Photo]

In a nutshell, the purpose of the Red Eagles was to expose as many pilots as possible to real MiGs, to eliminate what was called “buck fever”, the pilot’s shock of suddenly seeing a real MiG up-close for the first time. It was better for a fighter pilot to get the proverbial deer-in-the-headlights look with a “friendly” MiG over Nevada rather than in combat with a hostile foe.

The program in which the Red Eagles operated was known as Constant Peg, but we’re not here to present the history of the squadron as it is covered in great detail in Steve Davies’ 2008 book, “Red Eagles: America’s Secret MiGs” and “America’s Secret MiG Squadron: The Red Eagles of Project Constant Peg”, which was written by the Red Eagles first commanding officer, Galliard R. Peck, Jr., Col. USAF, (Ret.) in 2014. What follows is the story of Robert J. “Z-Man” Zettel, Lt. Col. (USAF), Ret. (Bandit 39), and his career path that led him to the Red Eagles and the cockpit of the Mikoyan Gurevich MiG-23 Flogger.

Born in Racine, Wisconsin, Robert Zettel grew up in a family where no one had flown or even been in the military. Through his high school years, Zettel read a lot about aviation built model airplanes, and decided that he wanted to be a pilot, but a high school guidance counselor killed that dream. Zettel told the author, “I told him I wanted to be a pilot. I was so naïve that when he asked me what kind, I said, ‘I don’t know. Air Force or Navy.’ I’m sure he meant well, but he gave me three or four reasons why that would never happen and that I should probably think of doing something else. I was completely deflated.” Not even a year later, Zettel’s Air Force career came out of the most unlikely place, “…one of my older brothers was heading for Notre Dame and the ROTC department had sent him a big package. He threw it out because he wasn’t interested, so I literally pulled it out of the garbage. I asked, ‘What’s this?’ He said, ‘Something about Air Force.’ So, I looked through all the colored brochures, and back in the day, they had those little tear-out things, so I filled one out and sent it in.” Zettel related.Ezoic

That piece of refuse launched Zettel’s career. He took his Air Force test and was awarded a four-year Air Force scholarship at the University of Saint Thomas in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Upon graduation, he received his commission through the Air Force ROTC program and went to an undergraduate pilot training class at Vance Air Force Base (AFB) in Enid, Oklahoma, where he graduated at the top of his class in March 1978. After completing his conversion training in the F-4 at Luke AFB, Arizona he flew F-4Ds with the 12th Tactical Fighter Squadron (TFS)/18th Tactical Fighter Wing (TFW), at Kadena AB, Okinawa followed by F-4Es the 36th TFS Osan AB, Korea, which was the last F-4E unit in the Air Force.

It was during his time at Kadena that Zettel set his sights on becoming an aggressor pilot and his assignment to 36th, which was the last air superiority F-4E unit, was quite beneficial in building his credentials and skill set. Zettel spoke of his path to the Aggressors, “I was first introduced to the Aggressors at Kadena… I looked at their role and thought it was an ideal role to hone my skills and become a real air-to-air expert. When my flight commander offered me the opportunity to go to F-4 Weapons School, I turned it down because I wanted to be an Aggressor. He was a graduate of that school and my response to his offer was simply, ‘Well, thanks I’d rather be an Aggressor.’ He was livid.”

Zettel called the commander of the 26th Tactical Fighter Training Squadron (TFTS), which was based at Clark AB, Philippines, that afternoon and told him he’d been offered the weapons school slot, but he’d rather be an Aggressor and amazingly after asking Zettel how much time he had (he had 600 hours in F-4), he hired him on the spot. When he completed his tour at Osan in September 1981, Zettel went to Nellis to check out in the F-5E and complete the Aggressor Program, which included a single surreal sortie against a mysterious MiG-21 and reported to the 26th at Clark in February 1982.

When Zettel came home for Christmas in December 1982, he spent a few days at Nellis and had a most fortuitous meeting with a friend from Clark, “I happened to run into a guy by the name of Jim Day. He’d been one of our GCI controllers at the 26th and was then working GCI for the 4477th. When he saw me in the hallway at the 65th he asked, ‘What are you doing here?’ I said, ‘Well, I’m home on Christmas leave, so I’m hanging around for a day or two to see some old friends and talk to the commander.’ He looked at me and said, ‘Do you have your Class A uniform with you?’ I said, ‘Yes. Why?’ He said, ‘Your name has been floating around as a possible Red Eagle.’ I was shocked because I didn’t think I could get there from where I was in my career at that time.” Zettel recalled.

Day arranged for Zettel to meet with Lieutenant Colonel (LTC) George S. Gennin, who was the Red Eagles commanding officer at the time. Zettel recalled the interview in 2016, “I walked in, saluted smartly, and introduced myself. I think they already knew who I was. Gennin asked me, ‘Would you have any problems flying these airplanes? These are not your standard airplanes. They’re not as safe. We’ve had accidents. We’ve had people get killed.’ Of course, I was young and single, so my reply was, ‘Absolutely. No problem.’ You throw caution to the wind, and you’re bulletproof at that age, right? Anyway, it was all over in 35 or 40 minutes, and I still remember as I was walking out the door he said, ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you.’ Well, at that point I figured I’d never get the job.”

Three months after Col. Holden handed Zettel the letter from LTC Gennin, Zettel arrived at Nellis in September 1983 to begin a most amazing time in his career. He told the author in August 2021, that the cover story was that he was flying “highly modified F-5s” at a secret location north of Las Vegas. Over the years, this cover story was bolstered when Z-Man would go on the road with the 65th. Zettel arrived when the Red Eagles were in a period of transition as they had just retired the MiG-17s and received a number of MiG-23s.

Squadron members with one of the F-5E Trainers/DACT aircraft. [USAF photo]

A total of 61 Air Force, Navy, and Marine Corps pilots were assigned to the 4477th during its 11-year existence and nearly half logged time in the Flogger. There could have been more, but there were some who turned down the opportunity to check out in the swing-wing fighter, especially after crashes claimed the lives of Capt. Mark “Toast” Postai (Bandit 25) and Lieutenant General Robert M. “Bobby” Bond in 1982 and 1984 respectively. Zettel on the other hand made it known that he would jump at the chance to fly the jet and after two years and 338 sorties in the MiG-21, he got his chance.

Zettel explained the process of learning to fly the MiG-23 without the benefit of a two-seat trainer, “The checkout was very similar to the 21. I sat down with the squadron IP (Instructor Pilot) for a few days of academics, which included sitting in the airplane, touching all the buttons and switches, and spending a lot of time on emergency procedures. Then one morning you go out there, crank the airplane do a taxi out to the end of the runway, and then come back. Then in the afternoon, you do the same thing again, except this time you go out to the runway, close the canopy, light the afterburner, pull it out quickly, pop the drag chute, exit, and drop the chute off in the infield and taxi back to the ramp. You didn’t take your checkride until the fourth or fifth hop.” On those early flights, the pilot in the MiG had an experienced Red Eagle on his wing in a T-38.

Once Z-Man was fully checked out in the MiG-23, he began flying presentation flights in earnest, and despite its dubious reputation, Zettel loved flying “the 23”, he was especially impressed with its speed and described two flights where, as Sam Shepard said in ‘The Right Stuff’, he wanted “…to see where that old demon lives.” Zettel told the author, “Once I was down on the deck at two or three hundred feet… and I indicated 830 knots, which was probably close to 1.4 Mach. It was really moving.”

The second flight was a functional control check flight, a favorite of fighter pilots because the airframe is unencumbered by pylons, missile rails, and external tanks. Zettel said, “That was on the deck. I once did a functional check flight, and I had some extra fuel. I was talking to the GCI controller, and he said the ranges were clear. So, I thought to myself, ‘You know, I’m going to see what this thing will really do.’ I climbed to 40,000 feet and did a straight and level 1G acceleration. If I recall the [canopy] redline was 2.23 [Mach] and when I hit 2.2 it was still going, and I thought, ‘That’s close [to redline], that’s fast enough.’ The MiG-23 was the fastest jet I ever flew.”

Whereas the MiG-21 was a dogfighter with an excellent turn rate, the MiG-23 Zettel said was “…more of an interceptor than it was a dogfighter… go into a furball… one or two turns and you’re done.”

That statement didn’t keep Z-Man from nearly getting a gun kill against what is today a fighter that is undefeated in aerial combat- the F-15 Eagle. Zettel related the story with a grin, “I obviously had a lot of air-to-air experience, so I learned how to max perform the 23, meaning taking it right up to the angle of attack limit. I would surprise guys by going into the vertical. I would do an attack on them, and they would get ready to reverse… I’d see this turn; I would just take it up… to work them in the vertical. They weren’t used to seeing that. I did that vertical setup with an F-15, and when he reversed early, and I took it up high, and he reversed back, which depleted a lot of his energy. By the time he tried to come back for me, I was up over the top, getting ready to come down as he started to fall off. So, I’m coming down on him… ready to call guns killed and he calls knock it off. I still remember swearing inside my oxygen mask, ‘Son of a bitch. I can’t believe you called.’ I’m pretty sure he called knock it off only because he did not want to be the only F-15 guy ever to be killed by a MiG-23.”

By the time he left the 4477th, Zettel had logged 138 sorites in the MiG-23 for a total of 70 hours. After his Red Eagles assignment, Zettel went on F-15 with 94th TFS/1st TFW at Langley AFB, Virginia, and retired in 2001 after 14 years of active duty and six in the reserves. In 1991, he was hired by United where he flew DC-10s, A320s, 767s, and 777s. He retired in 2019 as a 767 Line Standards Manager. Today, he and his wife, a retired Captain for American, reside in Florida and enjoy flying a float-equipped AirCam.

In 2019, Zettel was traveling through the Midwest and stopped at the National Museum of the US Air Force (NMUSAF) to take a brief trip back in time. He was there just as the museum was opening and knew just where to go to see an old friend — MiG-23MS ‘Bort 39.’ Having arrived at the display within minutes of opening, he found no visitors nearby, just a couple of tour guides no doubt wondering why someone was there to see a MiG-23 first thing in the morning. Noticing their curiosity, Zettel explained his background, affiliation to the Red Eagles, and this actual aircraft. The guides said they’d never met anyone who’d actually flown a MiG, much less the one right before them. Without hesitation, Zettel quickly told them a few anecdotal stories about the unit, as well as the aircraft. He then offered to tell them a few more if they would allow him behind the display rope for some photos with his old comrade. They both nodded instantly, and Bandit 39 was soon beside the “Flogger” he’d first flown more than 30 years earlier but couldn’t talk about until just 15 years ago. Oh, and true to his word he told them of a couple of short experiences he and others had in the “Floggers” of the 4477th — a once-top-secret unit that contributed to America’s decades of air dominance.

@WarBirdsNews via X

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complicatedchelsea · 9 months

Text

Fallen Through Time For You

Chapter Thirteen: You Won't Embarrass Me Again

Masterlist:

TW: Mention of blood, trauma, and possibly abuse

(Sydney’s POV)

Was it cruel to mess with Steve?

Maybe.

But I wasn’t ready to stop now.

“Fuck me!” Steve said as he ducked behind the Family Video counter. I had followed him to work today; Steve being called in and it being during the day I knew he wouldn’t be busy. “I just had my car keys!”

Said car keys that were currently in my jacket pocket.

I shrugged. “Are you sure you didn’t leave them in your locker?”

An annoyed huff from the other side. “Yes, Sydney. I am sure I didn’t put them in my locker. I laid them on the counter here before going back into the office to get the schedules for this week…”

Steve trailed off and there was a moment of silence before he slowly stood his way up. Steve watched me for a moment, taking in how both hands were shoved into my-well Eddie’s jacket pockets. “Sydney?”

I shrugged my shoulders, turning my head to hide the smile I was currently fighting. “If you don’t find those keys Stevie, you are going to be late for pickup.”

Steve shrugged on his jacket and slowly made his way to stand in front of me. “Where are my keys, Sydney?”

I couldn’t fight the smile then. Tilting my head back around to face Steve, an amused smile on my face. “I don’t know. Have you checked your pockets?”

Steve nodded his head and in the next moment I knew it was about to be scrabble “I don’t know Steve. Where are your keys?”

Steve was on me in an instant, shoving his hands in my pockets, digging round as I laughed and tried to push him off. “Steve!”

Steve let out a triumph laugh as he pulled his hands out, keys dangling from them as I shoved his shoulder. Before I could retaliate, there was a bang from the back door and Keith emerged into the store.

“Harrington,” he greeted as he came to the counter. “Are you still on the clock?”

Keith didn’t spare a glance at me, already disinterested in me. When I had followed Steve into the store a few hours ago, Keith had immediately tried to strike a conversation up with me about how I “needed someone better than Harrington to show me around Hawkins” The moment I took my jacket off and he caught the name on my wrist, he had rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat and trudged back to the office.

Steve shook his head. “No, I clocked out.”

“So what are you still doing in my store?”

Steve sighed and when he turned to face me, he made a face as he started to head towards the door. I had to stifle my laughter as I waved goodbye to Keith and followed Steve out the door. As I caught up to him in the car, he was mocking Keith as slammed the door. “ ‘What are you doing in my store?’ Fucking prick.”

“Now, now Steve.” I teased as I put my seatbelt on. “You know you can't be in the store once you clock out.”

At the light Steve turned to look at me. “Do you want to be stranded in the middle of town?”

I cackled but didn’t say anything else on the way to the school. When we got there, Robin and Dustin were waiting by Eddie’s van, but no Eddie.

“Hey,” I greeted them as I opened the door for Robin to take my place. “Where's Eddie?”

Dustin scoffed as he went to get into the backseat. “It’s always ‘Eddie this and where’s Eddie?’ I’m fine, thank you very much!”

I just sent him a look and raised an eyebrow. Dustin stared back before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes. “I’m sorry! Look, I failed another test in Latin and my mom is going to kill me! Excuse me if I don’t want to put up with your PDA today!”

I laughed and leaned forward to mess with his hair through the open window. “Aw, babe. Someone piss in your cornflakes this morning?”

Dustin just scoffed and crossed his arms, not looking at me. I peaked to the front seat to see Robin and Steve trying to hold in their laughter, breaking once we made eye contact.

“Eddie had to stay behind and talk to the guidance counselor,” Robin supplied as she stopped laughing. “From the smile on her face when she went to get Eddie, it might be good news.”

I nodded and motioned to Steve that I would just wait by the van for Eddie. Trying the backdoor with no luck (for once I was not mad because that man finally locked his doors), I settled to leaning against the side and enjoying the nice day. Well, I only got so far.

“Well, well.” A voice carried over the parking lot, nearly empty as I turned to look and see Jason with a few sports buddies behind him. “Look, it’s the freak’s mistress. Come to make some sacrifices on school grounds?”

“Now that I’ve got some virgins in front of me I just might.” I quipped back, already annoyed with his presence.

Jason’s face turned red. “No Hopper to protect you now, is there?”

“Watch is Carver.” I warned him, taking a step away from the van. “Remember, we are on school grounds. God forbid you get suspended from playing your “laundry basket” game.”

Jason was on me in a second, so quick that when I took a step back and hit the van the sound echoed through the parking lot. “You’re not a student here, I can do whatever I want.”

“Yeah,” I raised my eyebrow. “I’m not so sure you believe that.”

Before I could move out of the way, Jason had crowded into my space, fists grabbing at my jacket and pushing back into the van. It made a louder noise this time, and I winced as my back collided with the van painfully.

“I swear to God,” Carver muttered as he leaned down so his face was level with mine. “One more quip from you and you might not have a mouth to do it with anymore.”

I pushed against his arms, my face pinching in frustration as I tried to move away from the van and away from Jason. Jason pulled me forward to slam me back against the van one more time, my grip on his arms falling as my head hit the van this time.

“Mr. Carver!” An authoritative female voice called from across the parking lot.

Jason froze and I managed to peek around him to see an older lady standing by the school doors, her arm out to stop Eddie from making his way to us. I could see the anger on his face, the way he was straining against her arm.

“You have two seconds to drop that girl before I turn a blind eye to whatever Munson here plans to do.” She said as she started walking towards us, Eddie followed behind her looking like it was taking all his effort not to run to me right then.

Jason turned his gaze back to me, searching my face before tightening his grip and then letting me go. Not wanting to let him get away with this on school grounds, I let myself fall back onto the van again with another bang!, my knees buckled with the lack of effort to hold myself up and I met the ground painfully with a groan. Eddie was around the older woman in an instance, pushing Carver back as he crouched down in front of me and hands flying to grasp my face.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, his voice layered in concern as his eyes swept down my body to try and find all the damage. “Sydney, you gotta look at me.”

I sucked in a deep breath and leaned my head back against the van. I met Eddie’s eyes, and in that moment I actually felt everything rush at me. My eyes filled with tears as I got overwhelmed, my chest starting to move rapidly. Sure I talked a big game, but what would have happened if Jason wouldn’t have gotten interrupted? Slapping him at the arcade was one thing, but in an almost empty parking lot? How much damage could he have done before someone found us?

I tried to focus on Eddie as the footsteps got louder and Jason was moved away from us. The women from earlier crouched down next to us, causing me to flinch back as I moved my hands to wipe the tears away from my face.

“Sydney?” She prodded gently as her eyes roamed over me. “Do we need to take you to the nurse?”

I tried to take a deep breath as I shook my head at her. “No, no I don’t think I need to go to the nurse.”

Eddie let out a noise of protest and grabbed at my hands, holding one as his other moved my neck to see where the fabric of the jacket had rubbed harshly against me. “He hurt you, sweetheart.” His gaze moved to the lady. “You can’t let him get away with this, Mrs. Bowes.”

The lady-Mrs. Bowes shook her head. “He won’t. Eddie, see if you can get her standing and take her to the office. Principal Higgins is getting a visit before this can be swept under the rug.”

With another glance at me, she stood back up and looked in Jason’s direction. “Carver! You and your followers are going to take a trip to the office with me. No arguing. Now.”

She moved towards them without another word, while I tried focusing on moving as Eddie moved closer to me. “What happened?”

I let Eddie take my other hand as he stood up and tried to take me with him. When he got me standing, I whimpered as his hands left mine but they didn’t go far but to wrap themselves around me and pull me to his chest. “I was waiting for you here because Robin said you got called into a meeting with the guidance counselor. He approached me and I might have goaded him a bit-but he just came at me.”

I pressed my face into his chest and stuttered in another breath. Eddie rubbed a hand up my back and I felt him place a kiss against the top of my head. “I didn’t think he was going to do anything, but then he just pushed me up against the van and didn’t let me go.”

Eddie stepped back from me, but close enough that his arms were still wrapped around me but far enough away that he ducked his face to see mine. “Why didn’t you get into the van?”

I let out a wet laugh and moved to rub at my face. “You actually locked it this time.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond but got interrupted from a call coming from the school doors. “Mr. Munson!”

Mrs. Bowes was standing at the door, waving us over. “Principal Higgins wants to speak to you both, bring her here!”

Eddie glanced back down at me. “Are you okay to do this?”

I nodded and without another word, Eddie wrapped an arm around my shoulder and started guiding me towards the school. When we reached the doors, she leaned over to grasp Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey, there were witnesses this time. I’m not gonna let him get away with this, kid.”

Eddie nodded and followed Mrs. Bowes as she led us to the office. When we entered the office, two of the boys that were hanging back were sitting in chairs outside a door towards the back of the space. I heard a deep voice yelling in that direction but didn’t stop till we got closer to the door and I could see Jason sitting in front of the desk with his back to the window.

“Hey,” Eddie muttered as I looked up at him. “I’m gonna let him hurt you. You trust me?”

“Always,” I said back as I glanced towards the window again to see Mrs. Bowes took a spot behind the desk that another man was occupying. I looked back up at Eddie, “I love you.”

Eddie’s face softened for a moment before he brought me closer to kiss my forehead. “I love you too.”

With a deep breath, I let Eddie lead me into the office. The man sitting at the desk stopped yelling as I stood behind the chair next to Jason. “Sydney, is it?”

“Sydney Hopper,” Eddie corrected as he caught me eyeing the chair and reached an arm to move the chair further from Jason before pushing me towards the seat. I didn’t bother to correct Eddie as I took a seat, refusing to look in Jason’s direction.

The man nodded and I caught the sight of the plague on his desk labeling him the principal. He was a bigger man, seeming to push into his sixties with graying hair and a stressed expression on his face that seemed like it was almost permanent. “Miss Hopper, would you like to tell me what happened out there? Mr. Carver mentioned that you provoked him first.”

Eddie’s hand landed on my shoulder from where he stood behind me. “That's not fuc-”

“Language, Mr. Munson.” Higgins said as he looked away from me to Eddie. “I just want to get the facts straight.”

“I was waiting for Eddie by his van,” I started as I rang my hands together. “A mutual friend of ours-Steve Harrington dropped me off when he came by to pick up his friend. I only thought Eddie was going to be a moment, but that’s when Jason approached me with those two in the hall.”

“What did he say to you?” Higgins asked as he wrote something down. “He provoke you?”

“He called me the ‘freak’s mistress’ and asked me if I was going to make sacrifices on school grounds. When I argued back, he shoved me up against the van and told me that Hopper couldn’t protect me here.”

I looked back at Eddie. “Should we call Uncle Hop?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Higgins said as I brought my attention back to him. “Mrs. Bowes saw most of the incident and I’m inclined to believe her. I’ve gotten several complaints about your treatment towards Eddie, Mr. Carver. And I think it’s about time we did something more serious than detention.”

Jason exploded in his seat. “You can’t be serious?! You expect me to just let a murder walk these halls?!”

“Carver!” Mrs. Bowers yelled as she brought a hand down on the desk. “You and I both know that Eddie never killed anyone. The feds came in months ago and arrested the man that killed your poor classmates. Now, we’ve had this talk several times with and without your parents. Do you want to be expelled?”

Jason just clenched his jaw and sat back in his seat.

Higgins sighed. “Mr. Munson, if I take care of this right now in front of you, do you promise not to retaliate later?”

Eddie snorted. “If you take care of it.”

Eddie’s grip tightened on my shoulder and I felt his thumb rub at the skin around my neck. Higgins followed his grip and took in the redness of the area.

“Carver,” Higgins took his attention back to Jason. “As of this moment you have been benched. No more basketball, no more anything. You are to come to class and that is it. If I catch one more glimpse of you doing something like this again I will let Hopper press whatever charges he pleases and you will be expelled. Do you understand?”

“What!” Jason exclaimed as he sat forward. “You can’t just kick me off the team! I have scholarships!”

Higgins shook his head while Mrs. Bowes laughed. “You should have thought of that before you decided to rally the whole town against Munson here.”

Mrs. Bowes turned to look at Eddie and I. “You two are free to go. If Hopper has any questions, please feel free to invite him to call me.”

Eddie nodded at her and took my hand without another word to help me out of the chair. His arm wrapped itself around my shoulder as he led me out of the door, not letting me look back as the door shut behind us and the voices got louder in the office. It wasn’t until we were back outside and next to the van before Eddie spoke again. He unlocked the van, helping me into the passenger seat before leaning himself against me, taking my face between his hands.

“How much did he hurt you?”

I took a moment to look at him-really look at him before I shrugged my shoulders. I could see Eddie’s face crumpled in front of me and I quickly reached my hands up to hold the ones against my face.

“Baby,” I whispered as his eyes got more glassy. “Please, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“It’s my fault,” Eddie said he clenched his eyes shut. “If I would have left the doors unlocked or been out here earlier-”

“Eddie,” I said a little louder as I tightened my grip on his hands. “It’s not your fault. Not at all.”

Eddie opened his eyes. “But I wasn-”

I let go of his hands to grab his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s Jason’s fault, not yours. I do not blame you. You hear me?”

Eddie stared at me. “Where does it hurt?”

I met his stare. “If I tell you, will you kiss it better?”

Eddie let out a deep breath and leaned his head against my shoulder to let out a shocked laugh. “Yes, I’ll kiss it better.”

I pressed a kiss to his temple before he sat back up. “But we have to call Hopper first.”

I nodded and he pressed one more kiss to my face before shutting the door and making his way towards the driver seat. He threw his bag in the back, and for a moment I realized that he had left his things sitting outside the van when he saw me getting shoved against the van. My heart flipped a bit as he started the van and reaching for my hand before taking off.

To say that Hopper was not happy was an understatement. After explaining everything to a sleepy Wayne that had threatened to go to the Carver’s household himself, Eddie called Hopper to explain what happened while I went to shower and try to clean the feeling of Jason’s hands on me.

When I got out and found the clothes Eddie left me to change into, I was practically carried back to the van so Eddie could take us to Hopper so he could see the damage himself. I guess that one of the kids had overheard the phone call because when Eddie and I arrived at Hopper’s cabin, I was surprised to see most of our rag-tag group already there waiting for me.

“And this is just from where your clothes rubbed you?” Hopper asked as looked at my neck. He looked over at Eddie. “Did you notice any bruises on her back?”

Eddie looked down at me. “I didn’t look. Did you notice any when you showered?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I was more concerned about the headache.”

Joyce appeared with a glass of water and pills in one hand, a plate of cookies in the other that she sat in front of me. “Can I look?”

“Uh,” I said as I looked around the small kitchen to our group sitting in the living room, waiting for Hopper to make his assessment. “The bruises would be on my upper back and shoulders.”

Joyce moved the back of my shirt to look as Eddie thrusted the glass of water in my hands. I felt her still her movements for a moment as I swallowed the pills, and she smoothed my shirt back down as she was done.

“No bruises, yet.” She tacked on as she moved to take the seat across from me.

I didn’t meet her eyes as Eddie waved a cookie teasingly at me. I rolled my eyes with a small smile as I took it from him, getting a kiss on the cheek in reward as he made his way to the living room to talk to the group waiting to hear what exactly happened.

“I’m calling the school first thing tomorrow,” Hopper said as he sat down beside me with a sigh. “You said Higgins kicked him off the team and threatened suspension?”

“I don’t know if he’s going to get suspended.” I said as I traced the top of the glass. “I’m just worried about retaliating.”

“You think he’s going to?” Joyce asked me.

I shrugged. “It’s been months since our interaction at the arcade. I don’t know what caused it.”

“It doesn’t matter what caused it, just that it stops.” Hopper said. “I’m going to call his parents and have another talk with him. I’ve already said something about them bothering Munson, now it’s you too?”

I just dropped my head into my hands and sighed as I heard Hopper stand up. He gently squeezed my shoulder before making his way to the phone.

A few days later I found myself out with the group at our normal spot at the diner. I was practically sitting in Eddie’s lap on our side of the booth with Steve and Robin squeezed in beside of us, Max and El taking over the other side as they fought with Mike trying to bully his way in.

I was playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair that he had put up into a ponytail earlier that night. I had kissed him silly against the door of his bedroom before we had left, his cheeks turning a bright red every time I messed with it at dinner. The hand that was wrapped around my waist was rubbing circles into the skin of my waist, his head leaning against my shoulder.

“Psst, Sydney?” I heard a quiet voice ask from behind me.

I turned to see Will sitting in the booth next to ours, Lucas and Dustin arguing across the table from him.

“What’s up?” I asked him as I moved slightly to show that he had my attention. Eddie’s grip tightened on me briefly before I felt his other hand start to mess with the rip of jeans across my knee.

“Do you think I could go visit Mom at work real quick?” Will asked me. “I want to see if she’ll give me some money to get a snack at the movies.”

I frowned. “I thought Jonathan had you covered?”

Will shook his head. “Him and Nancy are going to see a separate movie, remember? I don’t want to take his money when he’s going to pay for Nancy.”

I hummed and turned back to Eddie, gently tugging his hair for him to look up at me. He smiled brightly at me and I couldn’t help but to smile back. “Yes?”

“Will wants me to take him to Melvalds to see Joyce for something.” I said to him quietly. “You okay if I walk him over there real quick?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “What does he need?”

I leaned closer so I could whisper in his ear. “He wants to ask Joyce for some cash and I think out of anyone he would be less embarrassed if I took him.”

Eddie pulled back to look at me for a moment. “You’ll come right back?”

“You’re taking me on a date,” I smiled back at him. “Why would I run now?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed as he shrugged his shoulders, suddenly acting shy. “You want me to go with you?”

I waved him off. “It will just take a few minutes. You won’t even miss me.”

Eddie nodded and pressed a kiss to my chin before shoving at Steve to let us out. Will quickly slid out of the booth beside us, standing next us as Eddie helped me stand straight and smooth down his flannel that I was wearing.

“I love you,” Eddie said as he kissed me again-this time on the lips.

I pulled back when I heard groans and saw Robin fake gagging and encouraging the others to do the same. I rolled my eyes at her and smiled up at him. “I love you too.”

Will lopped his arm in mine as we started down the street, the sun beginning to go down and it got a little chiller in the almost-spring air. We walked for a few minutes in silence before Will slowed down and got my attention.

“Did you ever think about what would happen if Eddie was a girl?”

I stopped for a moment to assess the situation before continuing to move forward and make this conversation as normal as I could.

“It wouldn’t have mattered if Eddie was a girl,” I said as I looked down at Will. “I would have loved him either way.”

“Did you want him to be a boy?” Will pressed me, still looking ahead.

“Will,” I sighed as I pulled us to a stop. “Can you tell me what this is about?”

“You said you didn’t have soul-marks where you came from,” Will continued. “So how did you know that you would be okay with it?”

“Honey,” I said as I looked around the street to make sure we were alone. “It didn’t matter to me what Eddie chose to present as. I loved Eddie for Eddie, not what he chooses to identify as.”

“So if he was a girl, you’d still love him?”

I nodded. “I’m what they call bisexual, Will. I like both genders, so either way it wouldn’t have mattered to me.”

Will looked down at his shoes for a good minute. He didn’t let go of my arm, and I let him take his time as he gathered his thoughts.

“I like boys,” Will said as he finally looked up at me. His face was red like he was going to cry. “What happens if my soul-mark is a boy? What if it’s a girl?”

“Will,” I moved to put both hands on his shoulders. “You liking boys is one hundred percent okay. You are allowed to love who you love. There’s nothing wrong with us.”

“What if it’s a girl?” He asked me as he grabbed at one of my arms. “I don’t like girls like that.”

“It won’t,” I comforted him. “The committee wouldn’t match you up with someone that they knew wasn’t your soulmate. And if it’s a boy, it will be okay too. People around here aren’t ready for that, but there are people out there that will love you no matter what. Your mom included.”

I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and started leading him towards the store. “No matter what happens, we all love you. No one in this family is going to be upset with you, you know that, right?”

Will wiped at his face and wrapped an arm around me in an attempt to give me a hug as we walked. “I told Jonathan and he told me he loved me.”

“See!” I said as I bumped my hip with his and smiled at the laugh that I got from him as he held onto me. “We are perfect just the way we are.”

As Will turned his head to look up at me, I felt something grab at my arm and tug. I let go of Will as it tried to drag me down the alley we had walked past, Will’s terrified face following me as I fought against whatever it was. Suddenly it let go of me and I was shoved into a brick wall, my head bouncing off painfully as I tried to find Will as my vision blurred.

“Will!” I shouted as the shape in front of me finally cleared and I could see it was Jason holding me against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, blonde hair in disarray as he smiled cruelly at me. Just past him was Will, one of the two boys from the other day crowding him into a corner. When Jason turned to look at him, I grabbed his jacket sleeve, abruptly turning his attention towards me.

“Don’t touch him,” I seethed as I got my bearings back. “You want me, not him.”

Jason laughed, unamused as he glanced back at him. “Why not? Take another freak off the streets.”

I jutted my chin out trying to look more intimidating from my spot against the wall. In response, Jason pushed me against the wall harder, the rock digging into my back. “I’m the one that embarrassed you. Your anger is with me, an adult, not a minor.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Just let me go, and I won’t fight you.”

Jason scoffed. “I don’t believe you.” But he turned towards the other boy. “Don’t touch him, let the kid go. Less witnesses.”

“Will,” I said as I met his terrified eyes. “Just go back to the diner, okay? Tell Eddie I wanted to be alone and that I’ll find him.”

Will’s eyes got all glassy and I fought every urge to not cry in front of the kid. I hoped that he would run straight to Joyce, we were closer to the store than the diner. If he got to her, she should be able to call for help and not bring Eddie here which I think is what Jason actually wanted.

“Will, honey.” I said again as I held my hand out. “Please, you know Joyce worries if you aren’t back in time.”

Will held my stare for another moment before taking slow steps towards the entrance. I watched him glance at me once more before he took off, and he took off in the direction of Joyce.

I let out a sigh of relief but it was short lived as Jason pulled me away from the wall and I was being thrown across the alleyway. I landed heavily on my side, my palms scrapping up as I tried to catch myself. I groaned and tried to get to my feet before I felt a foot connect with my back, sending me on the ground.

“Now, you were right about one thing.” Jason muttered as he crouched down next to me. He looked amused as I struggled to sit up. “You did humiliate me the other day. Getting me kicked off the basketball team? That was my FUTURE!”

He grabbed me by my hair and I let out a scream as I was dragged backwards toward the wall behind me. He kept me on the ground, one hand tugging my hair so I couldn’t fight and the other coming up to my neck. I stilled quickly, afraid of what the hand might do.

“You just had to cause a scene, didn’t you?” Jason mocked as his grip tightened. “Well no one is around to see you now. No one is around to stop me. I think I might just have to beat it out of you like I was going to for Munson. An eye for an eye, you know? What after he did to my Chrissy, I should do to you.”

“He didn’t hurt Chrissy!” I said, panicked. “Please.”

“Please?” Jason mocked as he laughed and looked at the boy behind him. “Look, she’s begging now.”

Jason pulled my hair tighter, forcing me to stand up as he moved us. “What did I tell you the other day about that mouth?”

Then he reared back and punched me.

I felt myself fall back against the brick wall, my head spinning as I felt my nose start bleeding. I could feel my cheek already swelling at the contact, and I tried to bring my arms up to defend myself.

“Look at this!” Jason laughed at me. “Trying to fight back, is she?” He stepped forward and tugged at the flannel I was wearing. I did fight against this, but in my dizzy state I couldn’t stop him pulling it off me and leaving me in a tank top. “Look at all this that we can bruise up.”

I brought my hands up to block my face, but it did no good as he grabbed at my hair again and hit me. At one point the other boy grabbed my arms, keeping me from fighting back and giving Jason free reign. I don’t know how I ended up on the ground, glass shards cutting up the backs of my arms as I struggled to get my hands to protect my head.

I could feel the blood pouring from my nose, my vision going more and more blurry as the seconds passed. One swift kick to the chest and was forced on my back, Jason moving to sit on top of me.

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed.

“What’s so funny, freak?”

I could hardly breathe with the weight of him on my chest. I felt a foot connect with my ankle and my laughter turned into sobs.

“He’s going to know it was you.” I said as I struggled to breathe. “Hopper’s gonna also know it was you. What are you gonna do?”

Jason stood up to kick me again in the chest, and I tried to curl up into myself as my chest started to feel like it was on fire. “The town is going to protect me like it did last time.”

I heard another set of footsteps and suddenly my arms were forced down on the ground as Jason sat back on top of me. I struggled to clear my vision but I could clearly see what was in his hands.

A knife.

“Woah,” the other boy muttered. “Jason, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Just hold her down,” Jason said as I began to fight with everything I had left. I kicked my feet and struggled against the guy holding me down. “I just want to make sure it hurts.”

“Please!” I screamed out as I cried. I couldn’t do this to Eddie. This wasn’t just a beating. Jason had a fucking knife. “HELP ME!”

Two fists came down onto my chest and I choked on my breath, struggling to breathe as the fire in my chest became more consuming. “Shut up!”

I could see the knife come closer to my face, Jason’s sadistic face behind it. “I’m going to take pleasure in cutting you up, and then I might break your bones just like he did Chrissy.”

I spit at him.

Jason screamed and reached for my left arm. The other boy gave the grip easily and before I could stop the knife, I heard a loud snap! and felt the feeling of my wrist being broken.

I let out a louder scream than before, chest heaving as I struggled because that’s all I could do at this point. If I couldn’t get out, I was going to make it as hard as possible on them.

I’m so sorry, Eddie.

“Now, are you going to shut up?” Jason yelled as his hand not holding the knife covered my mouth.

With the pain in my chest and the pain in my ribs, I could barely keep my eyes open as he brought the knife down. I was too overwhelmed, barely feeling as I felt the pressure on my arms.

“Hey,” he tutted as he slapped my cheeks. “We need you awake for this.”

When I didn’t open my eyes, he sighed and then I felt the blade against my face.

I struggled to keep my eyes open, his hand still over my mouth as the blade slid down my cheek.

My vision went black. I couldn’t move any of my body, all the noise around me sounded like I was underwater. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard a sharp noise to my right and the pressure off my chest disappeared.

I felt my hands grasp my shoulders again and I tried to flinch away as I was pulled into a sitting position, whimpers leaving me at the pain of the movement.

Something rubbed against my cheek and I tried to open my eyes to see if it was Jason coming back to finish me off.

I squinted and could make out a shape. It was smaller and had dark hair and was crying?

I tried really hard to hear past the ringing in my ears. “Joyce?”

The figure looked up and I could barely make out that it was her.

“-ney! Sydney! Stay with me, sweetie.” I heard as she sobbed. “You did such a good job protecting Will.”

I went to close my eyes but was shaken and the pain in chest forced my eyes back open.

“You gotta stay awake,” Joyce said as she cupped my face as gently as she could. “I called Hopper and an ambulance should be here any minute.”

“Eddie,” I cried as she tried to wipe my tears, her voice becoming clearer but I was struggling to keep my eyes open. All it once I felt my body start to drift and there's nothing I could do to stay conscious. The pain was also starting to ease the further I drifted, but the pain in my chest wouldn’t leave no matter how slow I tried to breathe.

When I drifted back, I felt a hand in mine and someone wiping at my face. “Eddie?”

The pain came back crashing back in and I started to sob. “Eddie, please make it stop!”

Sound was muffled around me and when I opened my eyes and struggled to focus, I could see that I wasn’t in the alley anymore. It was all metallic, someone standing over me that was not Eddie.

I felt myself begin to panic and the hand holding mine squeezed it again to get my attention. When I turned my head, I could make out Joyce next to me.

“I want Eddie,” I cried out to her. “Where is he?”

“Oh sweetie,” Joyce cried. “He’s coming. Just stay awake for him.”

“I’m so tired,” I could hear my voice slurring. “I can’t sleep without him.”

“I know,” Joyce said as her hand left mine. I tried to reach back out for her, but realized that what I was laying on was moving. Joyce left my line of vision as another man replaced her, shining a light at me and looking very intently at my cheek. A few more dots connected as I realized I was being wheeled into the emergency room, people screaming all around me.

I grabbed at the man’s wrist that was shining the light and tried to move my left arm to him. “Eddie. I need Eddie.”

If he said anything, I couldn't hear him over the increased ringing in my ears. All the bright lights were hurting my eyes and I couldn’t help but shut my eyes and try to recede back into the darkness.

Eddie’s gonna find me. Even in the darkness he’ll find me.

Hello everyone! The trauma begins! Stay tuned, we have a wild journey about to start!

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#eddie munson #eddie munson series #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #stranger things series #eddie munson x fem!reader #time travel au #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fix it fic #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things x reader #shits about to get real #did i mention trauma?

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