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flowercrowngods · 11 months

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part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 04: here come the tears

a/n: the people have requested a surprise eddie pov and i have decided to pull a eurovision and ignore the public vote, just a little bit. but you get a tiny eddie pov, as a treat 🤍

Steve is crying. It's 1:07 a.m. and Steve is crying. And there is nothing Eddie can do about it as he's lying in bed, his heart breaking further with every passing second that they lie there in silence, quiet sniffles carrying over the phone.

Steve is crying and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not talking to him and Eddie is breaking. Steve is not okay, and neither is Eddie. They're both breaking.

And Eddie doesn't know what to do about it, how to fix it. How to make it better. How to tell Steve that he misses him, how to ask him to talk to him, how to keep him. To stop him from slipping through his fingers further and further until all there is is silence.

"You know," his mind wanders back to years ago, his heart cracking at the memory. "I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. Forever, really."

He remembers the way Steve's eyebrows shot up, his eyes round with... shock? Surprise? Or maybe something bad?

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Eddie had chuckled, fiddling with the straw in his drink to give his hands something to do. "Remember that kiss?" Steve nodded. "Well." Another chuckle, awkward this time, and possibly too revealing.

Steve grinned at him, a self satisfied smirk that wavers just a little. "So you're saying you did fall madly in love with me, Munson?"

Eddie's breath had hitched a little because Steve remembered those words so perfectly that had since doomed Eddie completely. But he covered it up with a laugh so easily, he was sure Steve didn't notice.

"Maybe," he grinned. "But eh, that's in the past."

It wasn't a lie; not really. But wasn't the truth either.

The truth was that Eddie had moved on. The truth was that it's the kind of crush that was never really a crush. The kind that is a Forever more than anything else.

The kind that will always be there, a flame burning inside my chest that carries your name and keeps it alive, keeps me warm. The kind of flame that will always be ready to become a bonfire again. Just say the word, Stevie. It's written in the universe. Say the word and I'll be yours.

"Good," Steve said after a while, and Eddie remembers frowning, remembers that he wanted to ask what that tone was, what Steve was thinking. If he was worried or disgusted or felt betrayed that Eddie's been so hopelessly and helplessly in love with him.

But all he said was, "Yeah. Remember Chrissy? We're kinda official now."

And Eddie had known then just as he does now, that he'll be a happy man with Chrissy. She's his best friend, a sunshine on bleak days. She's no Steve, but she makes him happy. He had to move on from Steve – to try – and allow himself his own kind of happiness. He'd never expected to find it with Chrissy, but he loves her so much. He's grown to love her in the past years – not the movie kind of love, not the all-encompassing Steve kind of love, because that flame inside his chest can still only carry one name.

But life is not a movie. And love is not always a fire. But he's still warm, still content, still happy. And so is Chrissy. She knows about his flame, says she understands. Eddie thinks he has one of her own, but he never asked; just held her that night, creating more of that silent happiness.

…Is he happy? Lying in bed, listening to Steve's quiet breaths that are barely audible over the phone, remembering the kiss, the confession, the Forever that he tried to move on from, he wonders what he's doing. Wonders if that contentment is worthwhile if it somehow lead him to losing Steve.

Did he miss something? Did he fuck up without realising?

He can't ask; Steve won't talk.

All he can do is lie there and feel that flame that still carries Steve's name after ten, eleven, twelve years scorching his insides.

All he can do is wonder if the whispered, "Good night, Stevie. I miss you," is some kind of goodbye. All he can do is lie awake all night and wonder where they started losing each other.

~*~

Missing Eddie is worse than loving him. Missing Eddie makes it feel like all the heartbreak songs are written for Steve and his pain that will persist.

It’s been three months since the engagement party, and the sharp, biting heartache that cut into his lungs every time Steve tried to take a deep breath has dulled now, turned into a constant ache, an emptiness, the sorrowful traces of where an I love you turned into an I miss you.

He’s barely talking to Eddie anymore, and with every passing day he just misses him more.

Steve types the words I miss you over and over and over again, but never hits send. Just stares at them, wondering if Eddie knows. Wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He isn’t. There is no right thing. Nothing is right. Not without Eddie.

He scrolls up in their chat, past Eddie’s questions if he’s okay, past his very own I miss yous, up and up and up to the strings of hearts, to the inside jokes, to the gentle teasing, to the You’re my favourite persons, to the happiness and joy and good, good times.

He scrolls and scrolls until his phone vibrates and tells him there’s a new message in the chat. Steve frowns, his hollow heart racing as he scrolls down again to see Eddie’s new message.

Eddie Munson: — Can I come over?

Steve frowns.

— why? are you okay?

Eddie Munson: — No. — Nothing is okay. You’re gone and you’re not talking to me and I miss you and I’m losing you and I don’t know why — I dont know anything. — I just wanna know, wanna talk, wanna understand — I wanna fix this. I fucked up, I think, and I wanna make it better. — I need to talk to you — Please. Please can I come over

Steve swallows hard, as he reads the incoming messages over and over again, watching the little bubble that says Eddie’s typing still. Watching as it disappears and reappears, reading until his eyes begin to sting and his vision is blurred with tears for the first time this week.

Letting them fall as he types,

— no. please dont

Eddie doesn’t reply to that, and Steve breathes out long and hard, throwing his phone to the side, not caring where it lands on the couch as he slumps over to the other side, turning up the music even louder.

Oh, can you tell I haven’s slept very well Since the last time that we spoke. I said, ‘Please understand I’ve been drinking again And all I do is hope.’

It consumes him, this song and the way it was written for him. The way it was written about him. Because he has no right to ask Eddie to stay. He’s the one who’s leaving. He’s the one not telling Eddie what is wrong, why he’s pulling back so suddenly.

I’m not strong enough for the both of us. What was I supposed to do, You know I love you. Please, stay.

Please stay. Please, please, please stay. It’s about him. It’s about Eddie. About them.

And Steve listens to it over and over again, not caring that his neighbours will know it by heart by know, will be so tired of him wallowing for weeks and months, and will come knocking soon. He doesn’t care, not when Mayday Parade are singing, All the love’s still there, I just don’t know what to do with it now.

He types that into Eddie’s chat. Doesn’t hit send. Sends it to Robin instead, and gets a shaking hands emoji in return. It makes him smile as he re-starts the song.

~*~

That night, he wakes around 2 a.m. to a missed call an hour ago and one new message on his mailbox. He lifts his phone to his ear with shaking hands and bated breath, a pit opening in his stomach when he hears the Judas Priest song that’s been in his Sad Eddie playlist since the beginning.

His heart cracks open when he hears Eddie’s sniffle, a heavy sigh, and another sniffle, followed by a little, Fuck.

“Stevie? I’m… You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just— to just disappear. To slip through my fucking fingers, or float away like a— a dream, when you wake up, and you wanna go back to sleep because it was a good dream, and you— I don’t wan’ you to be a good dream Steve. You’re like… Fuck, man!”

Eddie’s voice is breaking, and so is Steve’s heart as his hand begins to tremble and he sits up in bed, closing his eyes, squeezing them shut because he doesn’t want to see the world as Eddie’s rambling at him.

“I miss you. I miss you so much, and I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t… I don’t wanna miss you. How do I get you back, Stevie? Please just… God, please just talk to me. I’d do anything for you, you know that. Just tell me, just say the word. Just… Just say the word, please.”

There’s silence after that, only Judas Priest’s Here come the tears over and over as the song is ending. Steve is crying as he listens to Eddie’s silence.

“Just. Just… Please, Stevie.”

The call ends then, the line cutting to the staticky voice instructing him to save or delete the message. Steve saves it. He doesn’t know why.

He also doesn’t know why he’s scrolling through his contacts with trembling hands and hits Call when he reaches Eddie.

The call doesn’t even get to the second ring before it’s picked up already.

“Stevie?” Eddie sounds breathless, wild, and just a little hoarse. Like he was still crying.

“Hi,” he says lamely, still shaking, a little breathless himself, and with absolutely no idea what he should say.

“I’m… Hi.”

Silence falls, and Steve wipes at his eyes. He’s still in bed, just sitting there with his phone pressed to his ear, and the ball that’s coiled inside him is growing larger and larger with each passing second that he doesn’t say Sorry, that he doesn’t say I miss you, too. That he doesn’t say I love you.

“Can I come in?”

He blinks, the question throwing him off his thought spiral. “Huh?”

“I’m sort of… outside your building right now.”

Why, he wants to ask. No, he wants to say. You’re gonna see, you’re gonna know, you’re gonna hate me forever.

“Okay,” he breathes and climbs out of bed, blanket around his shoulders despite the summer heat, because suddenly he’s freezing. He buzzes Eddie in, listens to him on the phone as he walks up the stairs, neither of them thinking of hanging up, and opens his doors with shaking, trembling hands.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @imzadidragonfly @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript (sorry if i missed anyone just give me a shout if i did <3)and thanks to everyone who said nice things about this 🤍🌷

come back tomorrow/later for [redacted] | read here

#steddie fic #steddie #steddieweek2023 #steddie week fic #steve harrington whump #eddie munson whump #dio words #hi uhm. please nobody be mean to eddie for moving on or think he's emotionally two-timing chrissy i swear i'll try to make it make sense #but moving on is good and healthy pls don't give him shit for it <3 sometimes in life that's what happens #also thank you all for being so nice to me legit all your comments and tags keep me going 🥺😭🤍🌷 thank yous

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oatmilk-vampire · 5 months

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Life Worth Missing || Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson x gn!ex!Reader

Part 2 of Off My Mind (Read part 1 here)

Summary: Reader goes after Eddie, not willing to let things end without everything being said.

Mostly Reader POV.

Inspired by another song I like Life Worth Missing by Car Seat Headrest. Give it a listen!

Word count: 2k of angst, whump, and happy ending.

TW: Coping with suicide attempt, talking feelings. No actual death.

~~~

Only when you got to your car did you finally let the tears fall.

All of those months of crying because you missed him was nothing compared to finally realizing you lost him.

He hadn’t even had the decency to break the news to you sober, like you had. Neither one of you ever had a problem with substance abuse but you had given up alcohol and the occasional smoke sesh as soon as you and Eddie went on your break. Drinking when you were sad and lonely was never a good idea, and weed held the same sentiment for you. Plus you would never dare to get it from anyone else, it felt like a betrayal.

But here you are, hiding away in the relative safety of your car in the Hideaway’s parking lot as Eddie drinks. To forget you? You’d think yes, if it wasn’t clear that he already had.

You wonder what she’s like, his new lover. If she makes him laugh so hard his whole face crinkles up. If she holds him when he’s had a bad day, smoothing a hand over his scars that you helped patch up as fresh injuries.

You wonder if she’s waiting for him at the trailer you once occupied.

Before you can make yourself leave you finally notice your now-ex pushing open the door, wobbling and swaying as he fumbles with the keys to his van.

You should let him go. You should accept it’s over between you two; he already had.

But you can’t. Instead when he pulls out you quickly turn your car on to follow.

You convince yourself it’s to make sure he makes it home safe, then you’ll leave him and his new lover alone. But as he turns into Forest Hills Trailer Park you still follow, albeit at a slower pace so as not to alert him to your presence. He pulls into his driveway and goes inside. No one comes rushing out to him as you had expected, but he still rushed in nonetheless.

You have a moment of hesitation before pulling in behind him and turning off your car. You wait in bated breath for him to come out angry and ask you to leave, but he doesn’t. You notice Wayne isn’t home either. If you’re going to make one final attempt at saving your relationship this was it.

As if on cue someone in the park lit a firework, bringing you back to reality. That’s right. It’s New Year’s Eve. How could you ever forget? Some part of you remembered when you asked him to meet, hoped it would end with a kiss between you two. A new beginning, not an end.

You run fast to get to him, suddenly feeling like it’s a life or death situation even if you had no reason to believe so. You just sensed it.

You throw open his door, grateful he forgot to lock it but fearful or what that entails.

“Eddie?” You call out to him, not wanting to startle him. But the lack of response spurs you on until you come across the bathroom, door open.

“Eddie!” You scream in horror, racing forward to rip the toaster out of the wall and out of his reach. You throw it behind you, not even flinching at the way it smashes into a bunch of pieces as you direct your fearful eyes at the man you love.

“Angel?” His voice is broken and eyes wild and wide.

“Oh, Eddie. Why? Why?” You crowd around him not caring if there’s a new girlfriend involved. She would be here if she really cared about him.

You drop to your knees and pull his cold freezing frame toward you, wrapping your arms around him tight as if your hold alone could stop him from leaving you in the worst way possible.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here. You’ll get hypothermia.” You pull him up with all your might, and he helps. If he hadn’t there’s no way you’d be able to lift him. He could almost laugh. Here he was about to electrocute himself and you’re worried about him getting hypothermia.

You grab two towels on the way out, wrapping them both around him, ignoring how badly your own body is shaking. You guide him to his bedroom and leave him standing in the middle of the room as you dig through his clothes in search of the warmest sweatpants and sweatshirts. You gather him fresh underwear and socks, the thickest long sleeve he owned.

He watches in disbelief. You’re here. You’re actually here. His Angel.

Maybe he died. Maybe he didn’t feel a thing and he’s in Heaven now. Now that’d be absurd. What’s more crazy? You coming back or him going to Heaven after all this? At this moment he decides he doesn’t care. You’re here and that’s all that matters.

“Let’s get these off of you.” You wait for his approval, just a slight nod of his head before moving with a purpose. You push off his jacket, unbutton his flannel, unbuckle his belt and slip off his jeans. It’s all much more difficult than it used to be thanks to the soaked state of it all, but you don’t complain one bit.

Once he’s fully naked you dress him in the same sentiment. Careful hands avoiding lingering too long but unafraid to touch all the same.

He’s sitting on his bed by the time he realizes you’ve brought out the hair dryer you gifted him a year ago. He hadn’t dared to use it since you left. The memories attached to it hurt him too bad, so he left his hair in the same state you had met him in. The days of having perfectly diffused hair were long behind him.

He notices the clip on diffuser attachment isn’t on it, you must have removed it.

You put it on the highest heat setting before letting the heat roll over him as you dried and warmed him further.

When you’re happy with the state of his dry hair and his contented sighs, you switch off the hair dryer.

You would have slipped it under his shirt for more warmth, but you really needed to talk to him and you couldn’t do that over the loud motor.

You sit beside him, tired of standing. “Eddie, we need to talk. We can’t leave things like this.”

You didn’t want to leave at all, but if there was someone else in his life you knew you had to.

“What’s there to talk about?” His voice is sobered up but you suppose a near death experience and icy tub will do that to you. Hell, you’re still freezing.

“You know we need to.” You insist. “You know we didn’t mean to end things back then. I didn’t want to end things. It was only a break, Eddie. Time we needed apart, so we could handle our own problems without taking it out one one another.”

“Angel, I–”

You cut him off. “But I understand. I do. Just because I waited for you didn’t mean you had to wait for me. I’m sorry we didn’t talk this over sooner. I’m sorry I found you like this, I’m so sorry. But I won’t apologize for ruining your plans.”

You rest a hand on his shoulder, it’s still too cool for comfort but you find some anyway.

“Where is she? What’s her number? I’ll call her and I’ll leave you be.”

He’s so lost in your words he doesn’t remember his earlier drunken lie.

“Where’s who?”

“Your new lover.” You remind him, and his heart drops into his stomach.

“Angel, there is no lover. I don’t know why I said that. I was drunk and stupid and I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” His dark eyes are boring into yours, glossed over with fresh tears yet to fall.

“You’re not just saying that?” There it was again. Hope.

He shakes his head. “I promise you it’s the truth. I could never move on from you, I tried, not with anyone!” he adds on, “But by myself and I just couldn’t. I was so stuck on hoping you’d walk through that door that I just pushed you away the first chance I actually had at making things right with you. I’m. So. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” You apologize as he pulls you in like he wanted to earlier at the bar, like you did when you descended upon him like the guardian angel you actually were. He’s been so wrong.

“Jesus H. Christ.” He shudders and pulls away from you.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re freezing, Angel. Let me get you into some warmer clothes too. Why didn’t you change out of yours? I made them all wet.”

“I wasn’t worried about me.” You answer simply as he runs to his closet just as you had minutes ago.

He helps you change, eyes lingering on your face the entire time. You feel flushed under his gaze but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You were here. With him. You were both alive.

“Eddie,” Your voice gets caught in your throat as you finally lose control over your emotions. You can’t be strong for him anymore.

“Yes, Angel?”

“You tried to kill yourself.” A sob rips from your throat as you finally break down into his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” He’s crying too now, you’re both shaking.

“Why are you apologizing? I’m sorry. I’m sorry you felt like it was your only option. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.” You cry into his chest until he pulls you away and places both hands on either side of your face so you’re forced to look at him.

“Angel. Baby, this was not your fault. Please never blame yourself for my stupid decisions. Since you left I hated myself for letting you go. Even though you said it was only a break and it was for good, I somehow convinced myself you were leaving for good. I didn’t blame you for it. I couldn’t blame you for it. If you ever left me, if you leave me, it’s entirely my fault.”

He pauses to kiss your forehead.

“Today I let all those bad thoughts get to me. Instead of being happy to see you I punished myself more. I hurt you. I lied to you. I felt like I was coming up short in a life worth nothing, and I took that out on you instead of being truthful. I thought I was worth nothing. That I wouldn’t even be worth missing. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

You brush a stray curl from his face with a shaky hand.

“Eddie, your life is worth missing.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I ever didn’t believe that. Please forgive me for all of my mistakes.”

“Only if you forgive me too.”

“Even if I don’t think you did anything wrong?”

“Especially then. If nothing else please just understand I’m sorry for not getting here sooner.”

He smiles at you, a genuine smile. A smile you haven’t seen in so long it physically hurts to see it again.

“You got here and that’s all that matters.”

You stare into each other’s eyes and hold onto one another.

The both of you think about kissing but are both worried about making the first move. Until the clock chimes, startling the two of you before realizing what that meant.

Midnight. It’s New Year’s.

Now you kissed.

It was soft and sweet and passionate all the same. Everything you didn’t get to say, all of the feelings you both kept bottled up over these six months was felt through the kiss.

When you pulled away to breathe Eddie had a grin on his face and you knew you had one to match.

“Happy New Year, Angel. I love you.”

“Happy New Year. I love you too.”

Everything was so much better than before.

~~~

Tag list: @ali-r3n 🩵

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson whump

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eddiephobic · 7 months

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aww peee peee poo poo waaa waaaa wails

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #strangers things #joseph quinn #eddie munson headcanons #edward munson #eddie munson the hero #stranger thing joesph quinn #eddie munson whump #i love eddie to this very day #eddie eddie EDDIE BRAINROT

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atimeofyourlife · 6 months

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Whumptober day 25

rated: t | wc: 436 | prompt: Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!” Steve feels Eddie's ribs break as he performs CPR

It was instinctive once Steve heard Dustin's shout of "He's not breathing." He ran over, pushing Dustin aside so he could see the full extent of the damage done to Eddie's body. There was blood almost everywhere, obscuring many of the wounds, making it difficult to determine how many bites Eddie had suffered through.

But, as Dustin had shouted, Eddie wasn't breathing. Steve knelt at Eddie's side, and pressed two fingers to the side of Eddie's neck, trying to find a pulse that wasn't there.

"Nancy, Robin. Put pressure on any of his wounds that you can see. Cover them and hold down as firmly as you can, try to stem the bleeding," He instructed, before he started CPR, carefully counting the chest compressions and the rescue breaths. Pulling forward the training he'd received when he first became a lifeguard. Making sure he kept the correct compressions to breaths ratio, that he kept the right tempo, that he compressed the chest far enough,

It was on the fourth round of compressions when he felt the first crack. He did his best not to flinch, knowing it was normal, keeping up the count. He gave the next round of rescue breaths, then started the compressions again. Another crack, this time loud enough to be heard.

"What was that?" Dustin asked, looking around.

"A rib. It's normal." Steve replied before returning to his mumbled counting.

"How is breaking a rib normal?" Robin asked. "Broken ribs can cause a punctured lung, or other complications." "It's better to have broken ribs than no heartbeat." Steve said, after he gave the next rescue breaths. He started the compressions again, feeling a third rib crack. But then there was a sudden cough and a sharp intake of breath. He quickly sat back, and sure enough, Eddie was breathing on his own again. Steve reached out, checking Eddie's pulse again, this time it was fairly steady.

Steve sent Dustin to find anything he could use to wrap Eddie's wounds, knowing that he wasn't out of the woods yet. That they needed to get him proper medical attention as soon as possible. He wrapped every wound that he could see carefully, there were so many of them that it took a lot longer than he would have liked. Every minute or so, he would stop to make sure that Eddie was still breathing and still had a pulse.

As he lifted Eddie to carry him out of the Upside Down, there was one thing Steve knew for certain. That he would never be able to forget the feeling of someone's ribs breaking under his hands.

#whumptober2023 #no.25 #“they're not breathing.”#stranger things #fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #steve harrington whump #eddie munson whump #atimeofyourwrites

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beth--b · 1 year

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match made in heaven

Steve gasped as Eddie poured rubbing alcohol over the bat bites that littered his torso. The biggest were still sluggishly bleeding, several smaller bites already clotting.

"You need something to bite down on Stevie?" Eddie asked, eyebrow raised at the younger man.

Steve muttered something that sounded an awful lot like 'I'll bite you' which made Eddie snort, triggering a laugh from Steve that quickly became a pained groan.

"Alright that's enough lip outta you."

Eddie waited for Steve to settle back onto the bed then pulled the first aid kit. Steve had never been more grateful of the fact that after the second time around with the Upside Down he had made sure to buy the best first aid kit he could get his hands on. To his credit, Eddie only hesitated a moment before opening the suture kit.

"You sure about this?" Eddie asked, gesturing vaguely at Steve then back to the suture kit. "I won't be offended if you would rather I get Robin, or maybe Wheeler?"

Steve just shook his head, "Robin would puke or pass out. Nancy…well I just don't really want to go there. If you can't though-"

"No no, it's fine, it's fine. It's just this is gonna hurt a whole lot sweetheart, and you know these are gonna scar."

read it on ao3 here

Steve just nods, tries to take deep breaths. The adrenaline that kept him moving until they made it back to his house had well and truly worn off, leaving him hurting and shaking. He had the vague notion that he may be going into shock.

Eddie seemed to realise this too, his eyes growing wide for a moment before he seemingly steadied himself. Pulling a throw blanket from the bottom of the bed, he covered Steve as much as he could then went to wash his hands again.

Steve lost time while Eddie stitched the two worst bites, one on each side of him. He tried to focus on anything else but he had been dragged under the lake to the Upside Down, almost been eaten, then spent hours running for his life. If a few tears escaped his closed lids neither he nor Eddie were going to mention it.

Eventually Eddie finished. He put gauze on the wounds, helped Steve sit up enough to wrap bandages around him, then helped lower Steve back to the bed. Steve was shaking again and Eddie silently pulled the blanket back up, tucking it under his chin.

Steve may have fallen asleep, or he might have finally passed out, he really couldn't have said. He had a vague impression of a hand running through his grimy, sweaty hair though as he passed into true unconsciousness.

Xxx

Steve woke in pain but at least feeling a little less wrecked and Robin was there. She helped him to the bathroom and stayed outside, rambling about something while he showered. He wanted to stay there forever. Knew they had a job to do though So after letting the hot water run down his battered body until he ached a little less, he quickly washed away the dust and blood and got out of the shower. Let himself lean on Robin to get downstairs, followed her to the living room where everyone else was camped out, planning.

He was a little surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Eddie joined him on the couch.

"Doing alright there Stevie?" he asked, leaning in close, voice low.

Steve felt his heart skip a beat at 'Stevie' falling from Eddie's lips, quickly brushed it off and nodded, "Yeah, yeah thanks man for putting me back together. I'm sure that's not what you expected to be doing today.

Eddie threw his head back and laughed, "Come on, like I expected to be doing any of this shit."

"Very true. If it's any consolation I wish you hadn't been dragged into all of this."

"Well nothing to do about it now. let's just take this asshole out and get our lives back yeah? Gotta keep Max and all my little sheep safe after all."

"I suppose so. Still, thank you."

Eddie reached out and squeezed Steve's knee for a moment before pulling away, turning his attention back to the plan being hatched around them.

Xxx

When they had gone back to the Upside Down, to face Vecna and try to end things. Steve had a bad feeling. He didn't like that they were split up. He knew Nancy, Robin and himself needed to be the ones going after Vecna. Eddie had been through enough, Dustin wouldn't stay behind and Steve would rather he be with Eddie than have Henderson pull some stupid stunt like following Steve to this hellish version of the Creel house. But he was worried. He was terrified of the fact that Max, Lucas and Erica were essentially alone in a town that was on a manhunt for not just Eddie, but anyone linked to Hellfire. They needed to move fast.

Things didn't go according to plan, but Vecna was certainly very fucking hurt, if not gone. Steve grabbed Robin and Nancy and hauled them along behind him, getting out of the house, back to Dustin, to Eddie, back to Hawkins and the kids at their worlds version of this tainted house.

Then Dustin holding Eddie's lifeless body, blood, so much more blood than should be outside of someone's body. It needed to be inside. He couldn't lose Eddie, he was just getting to know him, to like him. Was pretty sure there was a spark of something between them but there'd been no chance to explore it.

He pulled Dustin away and into Robin's arms. Blocked everything else out and used the skills he had learnt as part of the swim team to begin CPR. He directed Nancy to apply pressure to the worst wounds on Eddie's torso and got to work.

When Eddie took a breath, Steve almost sobbed with relief. He couldn't let himself though, had to move fast.

With Nancy's help and probably a lot of adrenaline and ignoring his own, probably turn sutures, they get Eddie through the gate.

Everything after that is a blur.

They get to the hospital, Nancy goes to leave and check the kids only for them to arrive in an ambulance. Lucas is beat to hell, Max has what appears to be a broken leg, though Erica at least seems largely unharmed.

There are people asking questions and Steve starts to panic. Eddie is a murder suspect. Did Steve save him only for him to end up going to prison?

Finally a face he recognises. The doctor from Hawkins lab, Owens? Steve just hoped he knew what was happening, knew Eddie was innocent.

He must have known something because soon they had all been gathered into a different waiting room and the Hawkins lab doctor, Owens, yes he said that was his name, was giving them an update.

Max had broken her leg in two places, was in surgery. She would have pins in her leg while it healed and had several months of recovery ahead of her but would be fine eventually.

Eddie was in surgery to repair the damage caused by the bats. He had needed a blood transfusion, wounds needed stitching. He wasn't out of the woods yet though.

Apparently El had been with Owens getting her powers back. She had taken off, but clearly whatever they'd done worked and she was helping them somehow during the fight with Vecna.

Steve was finding it harder to concentrate. He knew he was sitting, but he had a feeling he was going to fall anyway. He reached for Robin in the chair beside him and she turned to him, brows furrowed in concern.

"Steve?" she asked softly.

Steve just shook his head. He was definitely going to fall.

"Rob 'm I fallin'?" Steve asked, vision whiting out. He heard a muffled yelp from beside him and then all went dark.

Xxx

When Steve woke the first thing he heard was beeping.

After long minutes laying still and listening to the rhythmic beep he finally cracked his eyes open, closing them immediately and hissing in pain at the bright overhead lights. He brought a hand up over his face with a groan and felt a twinge of pain as something in his hand tugged.

"Stop moving dingus," Robin said, grabbing his hand and carefully lowering it back to the bed.

"Rob?" he tried to ask, voice hoarse and cracking. He forced his eyes open to look at her, needed to see her face.

She understood anyway. Of course she did. She knew just what he was trying to ask even as the questions went unspoken.

"They're ok Steve. You are all here on the same ward, courtesy of secret government agencies, and the only people who are here know the truth already. Max is out of surgery, everything went well. Eddie too. It was touch and go for him for a little while there but he's good. He even woke up for a few minutes before, he's back asleep now but that's normal apparently after severe blood loss. When you are up to it you can see them both, just a curtain away," she indicated the currently closed curtain beside his bed.

She rambled a little longer, explaining more about how Jason had gone after Lucas and Max at the Creel house, how there had been a minor earthquake in Hawkins when all the shit had gone down in the Upside Down. Jason had been knocked out and the kids had escaped, managed to call for help.

It seemed he had passed out, his bites had gotten infected, stitches popped when he was helping to get Eddie out so he'd also been losing blood. Apparently infection, blood loss and exhaustion we're not a good combination. He had slept all night plus half the day and the IV in his hand was pumping him full of antibiotics and fluids.

As Robin spoke she had helped him sip some water, he didn't need the fluid but his mouth was so dry he had never enjoyed a cup of water more. It didn't take long before he felt his eyes slipping closed again.

Robin pressed a kiss to his forehead and told him to rest. He couldn't have done anything else even if he had tried.

Xxx

The next time Steve woke up the room was only dimly lit and Robin was gone.

He felt tired, but not as fuzzy and weak as he had earlier. Antibiotics must be working.

He sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his aching midsection as everything pulled and hurt. He stifled a pained whimper, not wanting to bother anyone else who may be sleeping.

"Easy there Stevie," came Eddie's voice, barely above a whisper.

Steve hadn't even registered that the previously closed curtain was now open. He turned too quickly to meet Eddie's gaze and groaned in pain, action aborted as he slowed until he could turn with minimal pain.

When he finally felt able to, he looked Eddie over, most of the metalhead was covered in blankets but he could see his normally animated face, now calm and pale. His brown eyes though were warm and alive. He was alive.

Steve tried to reach out, to touch, but only caused himself pain.

"Settle Steve. I'm right here. Max is over the other side of the room. We all made it. Well maybe some of me got left behind in the bellies of the beasts," Eddie paused and Steve groaned at the terrible line, "But here we are. Thank you Steve. Robin told me you saved me. So thank you."

Eddie seemed on the verge of falling asleep again, Steve just nodded at his thanks, he wasn't good at accepting thanks.

"Hey Eddie?" Steve asked softly, unsure if he'd even get a response.

A mumbled 'hmm?' came from the other bed.

"You know, those bites are gonna scar."

Even half asleep Eddie seemed to follow Steve's train of thought.

"We're gonna match," he mumbled, sounding pleased though exhausted.

"Yeah, we're gonna match," Steve replied, the hint of a smile on his lips.

He watched Eddie until he was sure he was asleep, only then did he close his own eyes and allow himself to rest.

He wasn't sure where things would end up with Eddie, but at least now he'd be able to find out

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday5 #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #Steve Harrington whump #eddie munson whump #hurt steve harrington #tw blood and injury #my fics #fanfiction

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shesinchargeareyoukidding · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson Sickfic: When you hurt - Chapter 5: I’ll figure it out in the morning

Read chapter one here

1975

He could hear shouting. Desperate, angry shouting.

“-ck you! He’s my kid! Mine! Why the fuck-“

-“Sir, please calm down-“

-“CALM DOWN?!? SHE TOOK MY FUCKING KID! SHE BROKE INTO MY HOME AND TOOK HIM! I WANT HIM BACK! NOW!”

“Your son has pneumonia, mr. Munson. He needs urgent medical care.”

“Bullshit! He was fine! You just want my fucking money. Take me for all I’ve got, huh?”

What was going on? Where was he? Why did he feel so weird? Was that his dad? Eddie managed to crack his eyes open and his blurry vision registered white walls and three people in his peripheral. There was a pressure on his face. he blinked sluggishly as he tried to reach his hand up to feel what it was. His hand hit something that felt like plastic.

“No, sir. It’s not like that at all…” A woman’s voice tried to reason.

“I want him back! Right now! He’s my kid. Ya can’t just fuckin’ take him!” That was his dad. Eddie tried to lift his head to look at the other people in the room, but the movement hurt his head and he let out a groan.

“Ed! See? He’s fine! Eddie, it’s me! Yer fine, right? Let’s go home, yeah?” As he spoke, Austin charged forward and pulled the oxygen mask off Eddie’s face and roughly pulled him into a sitting position. Eddie let out a startled whimper as he looked up at his dad.

“Ed! Tell them yer fine.” Austin demanded, pointing at the other two people in the room. Eddie panted as he tried to form proper words.

“d-dad. W-wha-” Eddie stammered. Austin nodded frantically.

“Yeah it’s me, bud. We’re gonna go home, okay?” He pressed.

“o-okay…” Eddie gasped, scrambling to get his body to move as his dad pulled on his arms. A hand shot out and stopped him from making it far. The hand felt warm as it softly settled on Eddie’s back, supporting him. The owner of the hand spoke in a low voice.

“No, Austin. That’s enough, now. Just look at him.” Eddie blearily looked at the source of the voice an vaguely recognised it as his quiet and kind uncle Wayne. He calmly lowered Eddie to lay back down and Eddie was so, so confused. Wasn’t he supposed to get up?

Austin furiously shook his head and grabbed for Eddie again, but this time Wayne stepped in and blocked his brother. “That’s enough, Austin! He needs to stay. When Jenny brought him here she said he was close to death!” Wayne argued. Eddie’s heart started racing at his uncle’s words.

“That old witch is way too dramatic, Wayne! What do ya think’ll happen if I let him stay, huh?” Austin huffed.

“He’ll live. That’s what’ll happen. Give me that damn oxygen mask!” Wayne said adamantly as he reached for the mask in his brother’s hand. Austin quickly danced out of the way.

“No! Ed, tell him you’re fine.” Austin pushed. Eddie felt overwhelmed as he fought to take in enough air. His lungs hurt, everything hurt. He didn’t understand what was going on. He swallowed hard against the nauseous feeling in his stomach as he tried to speak.

“I- I…” The nausea became too much as his stomach spasmed, making him gag. All Eddie could see was the look of betrayal on his father’s face before tears blurred his vision and he threw up into a bowl his uncle had thrust out under his chin. His uncle’s warm hand rubbed up and down his back and vaguely he could hear his father still ranting.

As he was throwing up bile, two more men entered the room. “Oh thank God.” The nurse said as she approached them. “The father of the patient is being very aggressive and keeps trying to take the kid away.” The security guards didn’t need to hear any more and advanced on Austin, who threw up his hands defensively.

“Hang on! It’s my kid, I should be able to take him anywhere I fuckin’ well want.” He insisted.

“’Fraid not, sir. There’s a protocol we need to follow before we can release the kid. You can discuss that with his doctor, but you can’t take him right now.” One of the guards said as he cautiously approached the three Munsons.

Austin’s eyes shifted around the room like a cornered animal and came to rest on the door. As he looked from the door to his son, he made a quick decision. Austin darted for Eddie and forcefully pushed Wayne aside. With one arm, he lifted his son out of his bed and pressed him close to his chest, while his other hand started tearing at the IV in the boys pale arm. It took two quick jerks and the needle was ripped free. Eddie let out a strangled yell of pain as blood began to steadily drip from his arm. Austin’s strong arms wrapped around him tightly and his cries were smothered into his father’s chest.

“Austin, no! Stop it!” Wayne exclaimed as he ran forward and grabbed onto Eddie as securely as he could. The two guards each grabbed one of Austin’s arms.

“No! Don’t fuckin’ take my son! Eddie! Help me, boy!” Austin screamed as they were pulled apart. Eddie was horrified to see tears in his dad´s eyes.

Eddie sobbed as he started struggling against Wayne’s strong grip and reached his bleeding arm out to his father. “Dad!” he wailed. Wayne’s grip didn’t let up and he gathered his nephew securely against his chest, whispering reassurances in the boy’s hair and pleading with him to calm down. Austin was dragged out of the room by the security guards, fighting and yelling the whole way. Right before the door closed behind them, Austin’s anger shifted from the adults in the room to the helpless child left behind. “Look at what ya did, Ed!” Austin raged. “I told ya not to let anyone in! and now fuckin’ look, boy! This is all your fault!” Eddie started wailing even harder. “I d- I didn- “ A coughing fit overtook him and he shook violently in his uncles arms.

His dad was gone. He left a ringing silence behind, broken only by his son’s cries.

People took his dad away and it was all his fault. A new burst of energy made him lash out at the hands wrapped around his chest. He hit them over and over, he sunk his nails into them as hard as he could, he tried to pull them away from his body with all his strength. The arms didn’t budge, no matter what he did.

He was being moved. His quiet uncle was carefully climbing into the hospital bed with Eddie fighting him every inch of the way. Calm as ever, Wayne sat down on the bed with his nephew against his chest and just held him.

“No! Let m-me go.” Eddie strained to raise his voice, tears streamed down his face and his voice came out wheezy and broken. His chest felt tight and painful.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” His uncle muttered quietly, not once letting up on his grip on Eddie.

“I don’t want you! I want my d-dad.” Eddie yelled. His struggles started to weaken as he dissolved into tears. “I want m-my dad… I- I want my dad…” He whimpered. All the fight drained out of the boy. His trembling body went limp as his shoulders shook with devastated and confused sobs.

“I know, darlin’. I know. I’m sorry.” His uncle soothed. The arms let up on their iron grip and started to rub up and down his arms.

“I- I don’t u-understand w-wha’s happening…” Eddie sobbed and Wayne’s heart broke all over again. Eddie latched onto one of the sleeves with a desperate grip. His chest was heaving so harshly that it felt to Wayne as if his nephew’s little ribcage was rattling apart.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Eddie. But for now, all you gotta know is that I’m not gonna leave and I’ll stay here as long as ya need, alright? Right here.” He said as he slowly rocked his nephew. The nurse carefully approached the duo and silently handed Wayne the oxygen mask as she started unwrapping a new IV-needle and some gauze. Wayne carefully placed the oxygen mask back over Eddie’s nose and mouth. The kid was too exhausted to even react to the foreign feeling on his face, just closed his eyes and let himself go limp against his uncle’s chest.

“Sweetie?” The nurse softly brushed Eddie’s hair back from his face, making him blink his eyes back open and meet her gaze. She smiled. “Hey, Eddie. My name is Alice. I’m going to wrap up your arm and put a new IV in, okay? I’ll be as careful as I can.” Eddie nodded tiredly as two exhausted tears escaped from his eyes.

Alice put on rubber gloves and disinfected Eddie’s arm, which made him whimper and squeeze his eyes shut, but he held his arm still. “You’re doing so well, Eddie.” Alice praised as she wrapped his arm up. “You know, you might be the bravest boy I’ve ever met.”. Eddie stared at her in amazement and Alice caught his silent question. “Really.” She assured as she skilfully slipped the new needle in the small boy’s vein and taped it over securely. “There.” She winked. “Bet you barely even felt that.” Eddie nodded with wide eyes.

Wayne gave her a grateful look as she assured him the doctor would be by later to give him an update on Eddie’s health. Then she left and uncle and nephew were alone. Eddie mumbled something into his oxygen mask and Wayne leaned forward to catch it. “One more time, kid. What was that?”

Eddie huffed and lifted a shaking hand to his oxygen mask, but Wayne stopped him with a soft touch to his wrist. “I can hear you just fine, kid. Leave it on.” Eddie huffed again, but let his hand drop. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

“ ’m sorry I yelled. a-and… and h-hit you.” He muttered against the plastic mask. Wayne gave him a gently squeeze. “Hell, kid. I get it. Barely felt it, yaknow.” He assured his nephew. Eddie shook his head.

“ ‘s not nice g-getting’ yelled at…” Eddie softly countered. Wayne nodded. “That’s true… But you’re eight years old, Ed. You’re eight and you’re really sick and you woke up to all that chaos. You were probably real scared an’ confused, huh? Totally normal for ya to freak out.” He reasoned. Eddie, whose eyes started to tear up again as he listened to his uncle describe his feelings so well, nodded against Wayne’s chest.

Wayne kissed the top of his head. “Ya still scared, Ed?” He asked. Eddie let out a weak sob and nodded once again. Wayne rearranged Eddie so he was curled up against his chest, head tucked underneath Wayne’s chin with the blanket wrapped around him and encased by his uncle’s strong arms. “I’ll take care of ya now, kid. Ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. Everything will be okay.” Eddie snuggled up against Wayne and almost believed him. “w-what about dad?” He asked. He felt Wayne’s chest rise and fall with a weary sigh. “I don’t know yet, Eddie. But I’ll figure that out in the mornin’.”

1987

Eddie blearily opened his eyes and he instantly clocked the white walls, the too clean smell, the press of an oxygen mask on his face. He looked to his left and met the tired gaze of his uncle, sitting in a plastic chair. No. adrenaline spikes inside his body and he jolts into action. Get out! Look what you did! You’re ruining everything! He rips off his oxygen mask, throwing off his blanket. A stinging in his arm catches his attention. Looking at it, he sees that he’s attached to an IV port. Frantically and without thinking, he starts tearing at it.

“Eddie, no! Stop it!” Wayne seized Eddie’s wrist in a tight grip and ripped it away from his other arm. Eddie flinched violently and twisted his arm around in an attempt to free himself. He propped his elbow underneath his body, trying to heave himself upright. Wayne was having none of it as he pressed his forearm against his nephew’s chest and pushed him down to the bed. Eddie let out a frustrated growl.

A horrified anger overtook Wayne as he looked at the blood that started to pool around Eddie’s IV. Horror itched across his skin. “Settle down, boy! Right now!” He barked out, getting in his nephew’s face. He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the scene in front of him was sending him back to a moment he never wanted to relive. The thought that this time it was Eddie doing it to himself made his skin crawl.

Sick as he was, the fight was quickly drained out of Eddie. He slumped back down onto the bed. His IV caught on his blanket as he lowered his arm and he flinched and whimpered in pain. Wayne took in Eddie’s pale face and the blood smearing across his arm and felt helplessly angry.

“How could you, Eddie? Look what you did!” He demanded, wrenching Eddie’s arm up to make him look at it. Large pain filled eyes shifted from Wayne’s snarling face to the blood on his arm. Eddie burst into gut wrenching sobs and Wayne reeled back. All anger now replaced by guilt.

“ ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry-“ Eddie bawled, hyperventilating.

“Eddie, no. I’m sorry. Calm down. Sssh, just breathe. It’s alright.” Wayne consoled, trying to put the oxygen mask back on. Eddie flinched away and swatted at his uncle’s arm.

“we need to leave… we have to-… I can… I can g-get up…” Eddie slurred as he started to prop himself up again. Wayne was quick to grab his nephew’s shoulders and keep him in place, thumbs tracing patterns into his skin. “We’re not goin’ anywhere, kid. We’re stayin’ right here until yer better.” Eddie wildly shook his head and then groaned at the pain it caused. “Please. We can’t… we-“ Another coughing fit cut Eddie off. Wayne pulled Eddie to lay on his side and held him steady as coughs tore through him.

“Wayne…” Eddie implored, his large eyes blinking up at Wayne.

“No, Eddie. I don’t wanna hear it.” Wayne grumbled.

“We can’t stay here…” Eddie whispered.

“Too bad, kid. ‘Cause we’re stayin’ anyway.” Wayne dismissed easily. Eddie swallowed painfully, knowing he wasn’t going to win the discussion.

“Don’t be mad…” He pleaded instead.

“I’m not-“ Wayne started, but was cut off.

“Yes you are. I t-tried to keep goin’ I promise…” Eddie swallowed hard and sucked in another painful breath. “p-please believe me. I t-tried. I did. I didn’t t-think… I wasn’t… I tried to keep going, b-but…”

“Woah, woah. Hey, it’s okay…” Wayne soothed, running a hand down Eddie’s arm. He took a deep breath as he thought of the right words. “Yes, I’m mad.” He admitted. Eddie sniffed and Wayne tucked a bit of hair behind his ear in a loving gesture. “I’m mad because you thought you had to lie to me about bein’ sick, that you thought I’d hate ya for needing help. I hoped I taught ya better than that. I’m mad that I let it get this far, even when I knew that ya still do this sometimes. I’m not mad at you, Eddie. I’m mad at myself.” Eddie reached his trembling bleeding arm out to his uncle, who immediately leaned forward and embraced his nephew, not caring about the blood staining his shirt.

“c-can you…?” Eddie sniffed as he weakly tugged on his uncles arm. He didn’t need to explain himself further. Wayne let out an amused huff as he took off his shoes. “Dontcha think we’ll break the bed this time, Ed? You’re not eight anymore.” Eddie’s smile prompted him to shrug light-heartedly. “Eh, only one way to find out, right?” Eddie’s smile only grew as his uncle climbed in behind him, joints popping as he went, and pulled Eddie against his chest, just like they had done twelve years ago. Wayne gently eased the oxygen mask back in place, ignoring his nephew’s displeased whine. Soon, the oxygen eased some of the tightness in Eddie’s chest and he sunk into his uncle’s embrace.

“I’m sorry I yelled, kid.” Wayne muttered into his nephew’s hair. Eddie tried to speak, but was reminded of the mask. His hand lifted instinctively, but was stopped by his uncle’s hand gently touching his wrist. “My hearing might not be like it used to be, Ed. But I can still hear you just fine. Leave it on.” Eddie huffed and Wayne was strongly reminded of the little boy he had held like this twelve years ago.

“’s okay that you yelled. you’re w-worried.” Eddie rasped out. Wayne shrugged.

“Still, it’s not nice getting yelled at.” Wayne nudged Eddie with a fond smile. Eddie smirked in remembrance. “god, w-we’re a mess… aren’t we?” He breathed. Wayne nodded.

“True, but we have each other, right?” He asked. Eddie blinked heavily and snuggled into Wayne’s chest. “Yeah…” He sighed. “what are we gonna do, Wayne?” His large eyes looked up and his uncle. Wayne leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his nephew’s head. “I don’t know yet, darlin’. I’ll figure it out in the mornin’”

To be continued.

Next chapter

#eddie munson whump #sick eddie munson #hurt eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #wayne munson #jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

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weirdspaceowl · 1 year

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Robin and Steve worked in comfortable silence as they disinfected Eddies forearm and carefully wrapped it in bandages. Apart from some pained noises, Eddie showed no signs of awareness. With an odd feeling of guilt, Steve cut away the remains of the once proudly worn Hellfire shirt. They would have to print a new one when all this was over.

Dark harsh bruises stood out against his too pale skin. The bruising around his broken ribs looked almost alien. Red and black, like the sky in the upside down. Across his stomach there was the usual purple and blue swelling. It all looked excruciating.

“Oh my God, his ribs. What are we going to do?” Robin gasped, hands flying to her hair.

Steve reached a careful hand out to the angry mark on Eddies chest. He would have to feel what the damage to his ribs was. As soon as he touched the area, Eddie whimpered and jerked shakily under his hand, his eyes opened at half-mast. They looked unfocused and it was clear that he didn’t know where he was. His breathing became panicked as he tried to move away from Steve´s hands.

“Robin.” That’s all Steve needed to stay. Robin placed her hands on Eddies shoulder, holding him in place.

“Eddie, it’s us, it’s Steve and Robin. We just need to check your ribs, alright? I know it hurts. It´s okay. It´s okay.” Robin kept rambling and trying anything to convince Eddie that he was safe.

Steve clenched his jaw and felt around Eddies ribcage. He carefully pressed down, Eddie cried out and shook violently. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to keep going. He had to. He could feel the give of two ribs. Definitely broken. But not out of place. His other ribs seemed fine. Steve quickly backed away. Eddie writhed underneath Robin’s hands, wheezing. Robin ran a soothing hand up and down Eddies arm, still rambling on about anything and nothing at all in a soft voice.

When they moved on to the carved slur on his chest, Steve tried his hardest not to see the letters. He quickly wiped the cuts down with a disinfectant and pressed some gauze to them. There. Now they could at least for a moment pretend like they weren’t there.

“Robin, switch with me.” Robin nodded. Steve moved to the head of the couch and gently moved Eddies bangs from his face. Eddie just squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears escaped. Robin went over to the first aid kit and picked out a roll of bandages.

“You lift, I wrap?” She asked, her voice tight. Steve nodded and bit his lip. This sucked. This sucked so much. He felt thankful that at least Dustin didn’t have to be here for this. He lifted Eddie so Robin could wrap the bandages around Eddies chest and the strangled noise that Eddie made would probably haunt him forever.

“s-sor-sorry ‘m-sorry s-stop i-it hurts-“

Robin fumbled as she dropped the bandages and looked at Eddie in horrified shock. Steve gently tried to shush Eddie and looked to Robin.

“Keep going. It has to be done. The quicker the better.” Robin quickly continued, fingers shaking.

“n-no sto-stop please.”

“Eddie sssh. It’s okay, we´re trying to help.” Eddie twisted weakly in Steve’s grasp, making Steve tighten his arms around him.

“I never want to do this ever again Steve.” Robin sniffed as she tied off the bandage as fast as she could. She stood up and turned away quickly, wiping at her eyes. Steve gently lowered Eddie back down so that he was laying on his side again. The metalhead shook with some dry sobs but was mostly quiet again.

“You won’t have to Rob. Promise.”

They left the tears in his shoulder uncovered, knowing that they would have to be able to reach them again when Dustin and Nancy came back. Steve quickly gave Eddie a once over. He looked exhausted and thin and cold, but Steve took comfort in the heat of the fire that was slowly warming Eddies face.

“I going to find him some new clothes. Can you stay with him?” Steve asked Robin, who immediately nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” She said.

Steve ran up the stairs two at a time. Trying to get back to the study as soon as possible. When it came to picking out clothes however, Steve seemed to run into dilemma after dilemma. All he could think about while standing in his enormous closet was how Eddie would probably hate every single article of clothing in there. And not a single black or in any way neutral sweater in sight. Oh no, because Steve just had to care about fashion and how green and yellow and blue were totally his colours or whatever. Maybe Eddie wouldn’t mind blue? He probably would look really good in red now that Steve thought about it. Like maroon or something. Come on you idiot. Steve thought. Eddie’s not going to care about the colour, he just wants to be warm.

And he probably wouldn’t want to be moved around anymore. That he knew for sure. Making a snap decision, he picked out a light blue zip up sweater. Easy to slip on, and it would also still give them easy access to his wounds if need be. And it was soft, barely ever worn, and warm. Perfect.

Taking the steps two at a time again, Steve bounded down the stairs. He made a detour to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Just in case. When he came back to his fathers study, he could hear Robin excitedly talk. She was sitting on the floor facing Eddie and grinning at him. When she noticed Steve in the doorway she beamed.

“Oh look, there’s Steve! Steve! Hey! Eddie recognized me!” Robin called out to him. So excited that it was almost contagious. Steve quickly moved to Robin’s side and noticed that Eddie was indeed looking at them with a bit more recognition in his tired eyes.

“Hey Eds, you know who I am?” he asked, carefully taking the metalheads hand in his. Eddie blinked tiredly at him.

“harrington.” Eddie rasped. Steve grinned so hard that his cheeks hurt.

“That’s right, dude.” He said proudly. “Hey I brought you some clothes.” He showed him the sweater and sweatpants. Eddie frowned blankly at the stack of clothes and brought his shaking hand up to clumsily poke at the fabric.

“n-not m’ colour, man.”

Steve barked out an incredulous laugh and playfully glared at him. Beside him Robin giggled tearfully.

“Yeah, well, this’ll have to do for now. How about a ‘thank you so much Steve for giving me this amazing sweater in my hour of need’, huh?” Eddie just gave him a weary smile, but it was enough for Steve. He lifted the glass of water in Eddie line of vision.

“Hey, think you can drink something?” Eddies face instantly morphed into a more uncertain expression. Steve’s heart clenched.

“How about we just try? You’re dangerously dehydrated, Eds.” Eddie gave a defeated nod.

They managed half the glass when Eddie turned his head away from the glass with a pleading look in his eyes. Steve set the glass down immediately.

“You did great Eds, I’m so proud of you.” Steve kept getting floored by the vulnerability in Eddies eyes. It tugged at something deep inside his chest and made him want to do anything he could to make the metalhead feel safe.

“Now we only need to put on the sweater and pants and then you can sleep, alright?”

“kay”

Eddie tried to help, but was very uncoordinated and in a lot of pain. Together Robin and Steve managed to get his arms through the sleeves and the sweater comfortably around him. Pealing the tight jeans off and putting the sweatpants on was not only awkward as hell, but also very very painful for Eddie. By the time they had Eddie situated in his clean clothes he was shaking and on the verge of passing out again. They quickly tucked him in with all the blankets they still had left and got Eddie settled as comfortably as possible. Robin even dropped a quick kiss on Eddies forehead.

“It’s alright Eddie, go to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Chapter five of my fanfic is up now!

Let me know what you think.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #bring back eddie munson #eddie munson whump #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson fanfiction

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

Note

*checks time* a prompt for you. eddie's insomnia versus steve the human weighted blanket. 🥺

in which Eddie hasn’t slept in days and feels like he’s losing his mind. fairy lights, music, and Steve lying down on top of him with promises whispered into his skin are what saves him | cw: gets pretty heavy on the insomnia | 2.8k

Eddie doesn’t sleep. Hasn’t slept in a while. He knows it must have been two days. Maybe three. And before that it’s always just been one lucky hour, maybe two, his body collapsing into blissful darkness before black turns red and he’s back in the Upside down, before silence turns into Chrissy screaming at him, for him, because of him.

Eddie doesn’t sleep. And it’s starting to show. His movements are slow, thinking and speaking takes way longer than it used to, than it should, and everything is dulled. Sometimes he hears voices where there are none, sometimes he misses words directed at him before one of the shrimps call for his attention again, annoyed and only a little worried. Only a little, because Eddie is quirky, Eddie is dramatic, Eddie is like that, right? Right?

Wrong. Eddie is just tired. His hands won’t stop shaking, his mouth won’t stop talking, his thoughts won’t stop running. It doesn’t even feel like he’s in control of himself anymore, and it’s beginning to be real scary.

But even when he thinks, screw the nightmares, I just want some sleep, rest won’t find him. The constant thrum of anxiety keeps it all away and he’s starting to get frustrated, angry, desperate.

He just wants to sleep. Please. The laundry already starts talking to him, and he doesn’t remember hanging it up, and almost panics when it’s gone.

This is fine. It’s all fine. His joints ache, his scars itch, sometimes smiling hurts, but it’s all fine. He just needs sleep.

It all comes to a head when he’s hosting Hellfire for the kids two weeks since his last full night of sleep — and a full night is being generous, because his standards have gone so low as to that meaning he got five hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. Magically, the kids don’t really suspect anything, don’t even notice the bags under Eddie’s eyes or find their own completely misguided whiz kid explanations for it without so much as asking how he’s been doing. Part of him is glad, because they shouldn’t know, shouldn’t worry, shouldn’t see.

It also helps that even complete and utter sleep deprivation can’t ruin Eddie’s Dungeon Master headspace — and so what if the traitorous elf that asked the kids for help sounds a bit like the angry cabinet door he left open all day yesterday because he always forgot to close it? That’s between Eddie and his mind that he’s absolutely been losing.

Everything goes by without a hitch, the kids busy discussing each other’s moves and yelling and hollering, than watching Eddie massage his temples one, two, three times.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. Except his skin has started tingling three hours ago and he knows he shouldn’t drive the kids home, knows he shouldn’t even be hosting them in this state, but he can’t… He can’t let the Upside Down win.

They didn’t get him with red lightning and murderous bats, and now they won’t get him with nightmares or the lack of sleep.

Maybe he’s been cursed. What if he’s cursed? Fuck, what if he’s actually been cursed to die the slow, agonising death that Dustin gave Mike’s character in the one shot he hosted last week, his brain rotting inside his skull and the cure just out of reach, so close but so far? Is that possible? Is that a thing? It sure feels like it, and—

“Eddie?”

Wait.

Steve? Why’s Steve asking for him, calling his name, where is he?

Eddie blinks. And blinks again. Only to find himself in the living room, a shaking hand pressing the telephone to his ear.

He’s been calling Steve. He does not remember. Panic is building inside him and he swallows it down.

I’m not going crazy. I’m not going crazy. I just need to sleep.

“Eds? You there?”

“Yeah, man,” he says, his voice too shaky, not at all sounding like him, and he wonders if someone’s taking over his body. If Vecna is back. If he’s been possessed. Fuck, he might really he possessed, and he shouldn’t be calling Steve, he should keep them all safe, he should—

“What’s up?” Steve asks then, and Eddie sort of never wants him to stop talking, because his head is quiet when he does. Keep talking, Stevie. Please tell me I’m not going crazy. Tell me I’m not cursed. “You okay? Are the kids still there?”

After a moment Eddie finds his breath and his voice, hoping it sounds more like him now. “Yeah, actually, I was wondering if you could come pick them up around nine-ish? I’m not…” okay, he wants to say, but doesn’t. “I can’t really drive. Today.”

There’s a bit of rustling on the other end of the line and Eddie listens, because listening to Steve, to his voice and his movements, is easier than listening to all the things inside his house that suddenly have a voice now.

“Sure,” Steve says. “Yeah, I can come pick them up, no problem. You okay, though? Do you need anything? I can come over sooner if you want, grab them and end Hellfire early. Just say the word, okay?”

Despite himself, Eddie scoffs. “End Hellfire early? Peasant. Heathen! Heretic!”

And Steve just laughs that soft little laugh of his and Eddie listens like his life depends on it.

“Alright, Munson, you little shit, I’ll be there at nine. I’ll just do two rounds, grab you, Dustin and Will on the second one, yeah?”

“Sure, whatever,” Eddie says. Then Steve’s words process and he asks, “Wait, me?”

“Yes, you. I’m not leaving you alone when you sound like… Like you could really use a hug but don’t wanna ask for it, alright? Trust me, I know all about how that sounds. And you don’t gotta be alone, okay? We can just hang out here, don’t even have to talk, just listen to some music or whatever.”

And Eddie doesn’t know what to say. It’s not the sleep deprivation this time, though, it’s Steve Harrington and the way he always seems to know when something’s up. Maybe Eddie’s voice really didn’t sound like him just now, or maybe Steve is just really fucking perceptive and sweet like that.

“The things you listen to are hardly music, Stevie.” That’s all he says. All he can say without breaking into tears, because hanging out with Steve outside of these walls that mock him, laugh at him, talk with him, sounds exactly like what he needs right now.

Well, what he needs is sleep, but Steve feels like second best. And isn’t that something he never expected to feel.

“Shut up, Munson,” Steve laughs, and it’s soft, soft, soft. “But that’s not a no. So I guess I’ll see you then.”

Just as promised, Steve is there at exactly 9:00pm. Not one minute early, not one second late. Eddie scoffs and shakes his head as he jogs to the front door.

And maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but Steve looks really fucking pretty with that smug half smile and another stupid polo shirt under his grey jacket. Eddie swallows. It’s probably the sleep deprivation. It definitely is. Because suddenly he wants nothing more than for Steve to come and hug him.

Sleep, hug, hang out. That’s his list now. It’s growing.

He obsesses over that while Steve brings Lucas, Erica and Mike home. Dustin and Will are talking strategies and Eddie busies himself cleaning up, sorting his notes and carefully storing his Hellfire stuff in the little cabinet unter his desk.

When he’s done, because maybe this took longer than it should have after he forgot what he was about to do a grand total of three times, Steve’s just pulling up to come get them for the second round.

Eddie grabs a bag with a change of clothes, a notebook because he doesn’t expect to find any sleep anyway and he wants to keep himself busy with something, even though writing takes precious brain power he’s going to be lacking for basic things such as making himself breakfast or remembering to get into the house when he’s standing by the front door.

Not like that has happened before. More than once, that is.

With his bag packed, he goes to grab Will and Dustin and together they head out to where Steve’s waiting outside his car, just leaning against it like he’s the goddamn protagonist of some shitty movie. Maybe he’s seen too many of those. Maybe Steve should stop working at Family Video, the movies are a bad influence apparently.

The car ride is blessedly silent, the only noise being the quiet music coming from the radio, and Eddie closes his eyes as he lets street lights wash over him. In the back, Will and Dustin do the same. Everyone’s tired after Hellfire, Eddie knows. Sometimes he catches Steve smiling when he comments on how he hates driving the kids home after their sessions because they always manage to fall asleep on the short ride home and he gets to be the asshole that wakes them up.

Eyes closed, the vision of Steve’s fond smile and faux exasperation in his mind’s eye, Eddie smiles. It’s only when the constant, pleasant rumble of the engine stops and the world is cast in absolute silence, that he opens his eyes. Steve’s watching him, but instead of that smile Eddie’s been dreaming of, there’s a worried expression waiting for him.

“You look like shit,” Steve says so, so quietly, and Eddie sags into the seat, twisting around to face Steve completely as he loses every ounce of fight left in him.

“Can’t sleep,” he says, rasps, whispers.

Steve just looks at him. He’s always looking, always seeing. “Nightmares?”

Eddie shakes his head, plays with one of the loose threads where his jeans are ripped at the knees. “Not even nightmares, just… Insomnia, Nancy called it. I love how she has a fancy word for everything.”

“Shit, man. I’m sorry.” Steve sounds like he means it, and Eddie wants to wrap himself up in that. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Tell me I’m not going crazy?” The words leave his mouth before he can hold them back and Eddie hates how small he sounds, how scared, how tired.

But Steve, oh, Steve, he’s not small or scared or tired. He’s none of that. He’s not weak like Eddie, because after looking for five, six, seven seconds, Steve turns to open his door and gets out of the car. Eddie’s heart sinks and he rubs at his eyes — his dry, aching, burning eyes, protesting at never getting to close anymore.

Then the front passenger door opens and Steve is there, kneeling beside him, taking Eddie’s hands from his eyes and holding them in his own.

“You’re not going crazy, Eddie. I promise you, you’re not going crazy.”

Eddie doesn’t look at Steve, can’t possibly meet the eyes that belong to this incredibly sincere and kind voice. He keeps his eyes on the dashboard instead, watching as the unmoving shadow of a tree morphs into different shapes right before his eyes, his mind playing tricks on him without hiding it anymore.

“Sure feels like it, though,” he whispers. Or he thinks he does. He’s not so sure anymore, watching the one shadow become two, then three. He closes his eyes, clenches them shut like it would make all his problems disappear.

Maybe it does, because like this, there’s only Steve’s voice as he’s talking so gently, so quietly, so unlike anything and everything Eddie has ever known.

The words don’t really register, but one moment Eddie is sitting in the car, the next he’s standing, and it’s warm and it smells like Steve and— oh. They’re hugging. Steve is hugging him. Holding him. Talking still like he knows Eddie needs it, like he knows the world will fade and shift and morph if he doesn’t, like he wants nothing more than to talk Eddie down from this brink of madness.

Then there’s a hand in his and the air is cold again, but it’s fine because there’s a hand and its guiding, holding, soothing.

A door falls closed, a lock clicks, and the hand is still there.

They’re in Steve’s house. Then in Steve’s room. And then there’s music. The hand is gone, and Eddie blinks, his eyes aching, so dry and tired and angry him.

Steve gently, so very gently pushes him to sit down on his bed, but Eddie doesn’t have the strength to sit, so he falls backward until he’s lying on Steve’s bed. It’s soft, comfortable. There’s a string of lights on the wall behind his headboard casting the room in warm light, and Eddie wonders if it’s Christmas soon.

It’s not. It’s August.

It doesn’t make sense.

But they’re pretty.

Eddie is only staring for a while while Steve is off doing something or other, and then he’s back in Eddie’s line of sight.

“Can I try something?”

Eddie just stares.

“It’s absolutely cool if you don’t want to, man, but I do this with Robbie sometimes when she can’t sleep. It doesnt work on me this way around, I always have to be on top, I hate having something on my chest, but—“

“Stevie, I have very limited brain capacity right now.”

“Right, sorry,” he laughs sheepishly and then rests one knee on the mattress. That’s when it hits Eddie that he’s lying in Steve Haddington’s bed, and that aforementioned Steve Harrington has nothing better to do about it than to fucking smile at him.

“Tell me if it’s bad. Seriously, tell me. Uncomfortable, bad, panic-inducing or just plain wrong, yeah? Tell me.”

And Eddie doesn’t understand what on Earth he’s supposed to tell Steve, when…

Steve’s lying down on top of him. They’re touching from knee to shoulder, Steve’s head landing on his collarbone. He’s warm. He’s heavy, and for a second Eddie can’t breathe and it’s too much, his lungs can’t fill, he can’t—

“Breathe, Eddie.”

And he does. And it’s the easiest breath he took all day. He takes another. And another. And all of them smell of Steve, all of them are warm, all of them a promise that he’s not losing his mind or his sanity. His heart, possibly, but that’s a problem for a different day.

“Better?” Steve asks, his breath leaving goosebumps on Eddie’s skin.

He nods. His hands coming up to wrap around Steve because part of him is still scared that this is a dream, a hallucination, or that Steve will decide it’s enough, he can leave Eddie to his business of losing his mind again.

But Steve’s not going anywhere. He shifts, getting comfortable on top of Eddie and promises into the skin of his throat, “I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I’ve got you and you’re safe. Close your eyes for me, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And, miraculously, Eddie believes him. The weight of Steve on top of him, his promise now eternalised in Eddie’s skin, and the quiet tunes coming from the record player take him where he hasn’t been in far too long.

He doesn’t even have the time to think about the way his past self would scoff at him for letting Steve Harrington lie down on him like this. For holding him close.

There’s only Steve who keeps him safe from the brink of insanity and guides him to a much gentler, warmer, kinder place. It’s a bit like insanity, actually, but at least here there’s someone to take his hand and hold it.

The last thought that crosses his mind is the list he made earlier. Sleep, hug, hang out.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

This quickly turns into the only way Eddie can fall asleep, and he’s embarrassed about it at first. Feels like a burden and doesn’t ask for it, spends most nights alone and with the resolution that he just won’t sleep. But Steve finds out and makes him come over again or just kidnaps him in broad daylight.

Every night they spend like this, Steve promises the same thing. “I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I’ve got you and you’re safe. Close your eyes for me, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Every night they spend like this, Eddie believes him as he winds his arms around Steve in turn and holds him.

And then, over time, words whispered into skin turn into the tentative press of lips there. They turn into kisses, into more promises, declarations, pleas.

Some nights turn into most nights, into every night, and Eddie doesn’t lose his sleep again, not like that. Sometimes it’s Steve who wakes up from a nightmare but Eddie is there to soothe him, to make promises of his own and to hold him until he’s asleep again.

They make it work. And somewhere along the way, somewhere between sleep and promises, underneath the fairy lights Steve never takes down, they fall in love.

It’s a different kind of insanity, and one that Eddie never wants to run from.

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #the irony of me writing this because i can’t sleep and posting this at 3am is not lost to me #okay actually im posting this way past 3am because sleep deprived ol me forgot what he was doing lmao #THE IRONY #dio words #sorry for taking this wonderful opportunity for mild hurt and big comfort and just. writing insomniac eddie whump #i am a whumper at heart what’s a dio supposed to do #eddie munson whump #steddie hurt/comfort

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spicysix · 7 months

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play | cw: rockstar!eddie whump | masterlist

Los Angeles was supposed to be his new home.

After Eddie packed his few belongings, bid goodbye to the loved people he left behind and crossed the damn country for a new life, he thought the fast and bright Los Angeles would welcome him warmly.

Not that it didn’t do that, actually, it just wasn’t what he thought it would be.

The rest of Corroded was supposed to join him in a year, after Gareth had graduated, but when they called him to say they changed his mind, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. Not because he didn’t want them there, of course he selfishly did. But it was better for them if they didn’t come.

In just one year Eddie learned that Los Angeles was no home.

After he played in the streets, in coffee shops, bars and clubs, after he was being offered bigger chances, he thought he would enjoy it now that money was enough for rent, food and more, and people were listening to him and relating to what he sang.

Well, he didn’t enjoy it.

Every time someone complimented him on his lyrics he could only think “this person has no idea what I’m talking about”, because the only people who knew what he was talking about were in back Hawkins.

The people he almost died for, who almost died for him, he up’n’left them all the way back in Indiana.

They still talked, from time to time. He never visited. They promised they would, sometime, when life got less hectic. They never blamed him for leaving — only Eddie blamed himself.

Yet he didn’t have the courage to go back.

As the bright warm lights hit his face and he heard the echoes of the crowd waiting for him to start singing, his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Los Angeles was no home.

#eddie munson #eddie munson drabble #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson whump #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfic #lui writes #fhchallenge23

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livingfast04 · 1 year

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Monster Au? - Part 7

one two three four five six II eight

TW: Body Horror, Disordered Eating, anxiety, dehumanization, refences to past child abuse, refences to emotional abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm, biting (not the fun kind),vomiting.

---

Hi? That’s it Munson? Fucking Hi? Gods above, are you fucking stupid. Steve stares at him, and Eddie stupidly lifts his hand up to wave awkwardly. This was a terrible idea, Steve just kept staring at him, wide eyed- as if. Eddie shifted from foot to foot, this was terrible, this was so fucking stupid.

“I-” “Ed-” Eddie snapped his jaw shut, his gums aching from the sharp clamp. Steve’s mouth was slightly parted, Eddie could see the points of sharp teeth. They stand there for a little while longer, taking each other in? At least that’s what Eddie’s doing, Steve’s heart beat is much easier to hear from the close proximity, despite Steve’s outward appearance of skin and bone. Eddie- Eddie can’t take his eyes off him-

He’s almost skeletal, his clothes are too big, and it’s like the other lost over a hundred pounds of weight. Steve’s thin, his eyes are shrunken against his skin, they are mostly hidden behind almost stringy like hair that flops down past Steve’s chin. Like he desperately needs to wash it, but hasn’t-

Eddie traced over the pale skin he could see, there was a stark almost lack of pigment, as if Steve had never been outside a day in his life- blue veins- and far more freckles than Eddie remembers trace over the younger boy's skin. As if the color had concentrated to tiny little dots-

Steve doesn’t look remotely human, not with his lamp like eyes, Eddie stares at the youngers bones, at the knobbiness of his elbows-

Steve- Steve’s just as supernatural as Eddie is-

Steve doesn’t smell like he’s dying- Well, Eddie parts his lips, tries not to be obvious about the way he sucks in a mouthful of the air. He still smelled sick, but not, not as bad as before- it was laid over with a hefty amount of sadness, anxiety and a rising amount of stress. Eddie stepped just slightly back, ducking his head slightly, dropping his arm down by his side. Giving Steve space, the stress didn’t ease up- but Steve’s heart rate slowed a little.

Letting out a soft breath, Eddie swallows, “Shit, okay. I-” He pauses, shaking out his limbs and giving his head a little jerk, hair flying in his face. “Steve, I’m, so sorry.” Steve blinks at him, eyes a little lamp-like, big confused and wide. “I’m so sorry, I hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got too angry at you to listen to my nose. I got upset and should have realized something deeper was so incredibly wrong-” Eddie takes a huge deep breath, “I was stupid, I was stupid and dumb, and I will regret it for the rest of my life.” Steve opens his mouth slightly, showing off those sharp teeth- Eddie gives a tiny shake of his head. “And I’m not apologizing because you are supernatural, or because I want back in the house. I could give less of a shit about the house. I’m,” Eddie pauses for a moment, catching his breath, vampire or not he does need to do that- “I’m apologizing because we treated- I treated you like shit and you didn’t deserve that.”

Steve stared at him, looking just as confused and lost as he had before Eddie started. Eddie shifted, rocking back on his heels, he worked his jaw, “I- I’m not asking you to forgive me. Ever, not now and not in the future. I just, you deserve an apology, and I’ve already taken too much time to even get here to do that.”

The silence that followed wasn’t tense, it was just heavy. Eddie shuffled, he didn’t really know what he was waiting for. Maybe for Steve to slam the door in his face, or scream at him. There was movement in the house, and Eddie gave a half step back, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m going to-” “Stephan? Baby? Who's at the door?” Steve’s head twisted around at the voice, Eddie frozen on the steps. Staring at the other. The younger boy glanced at him, back in the house- and then back at Eddie. The confusion was almost gone, and Eddie could smell some of that sad, eased off- loneliness, it flooded his nose.

Steve snapped his jaw a little, Eddie could hear his teeth click twice. “My friend Eddie” His voice was rough, Steve’s light colored eyes met his. Brown- thick, the color there was- The woman, probably Steve’s Mom actually, peaked over Steve’s shoulder. She had the same freckles as Steve did- the same almost lamp like look. She was just as unnerving to witness.

She looks him over, almost hooking her chin over Steve’s shoulder- “Eddie?” Eddie could almost feel like she already knew who he was. “Eddie Munson.” Steve’s voice was clipped, not detached or that bitchy tone that Eddie remembers from High School. It was tired, stressed, and incredibly rough as if Steve hasn’t been talking almost at all. They really hadn’t spoken to Steve, so it probably wasn’t that far from the truth. The woman blinked at him, tapping her forehead against Steve’s- and then she stood up. She was taller than Steve, at least like this, Steve was shorter this way too now that Eddie was realizing. “Munson? As in Wayne Munson’s boy?” “I- uh, Yes Ma’am?” Eddie chokes out the response. And then she nods, it almost looks disjointed as if she’s not used to nodding. “The Vampire boy.” Steve made a small noise in the back of his throat, Eddie wrinkled his nose at being addressed as such. The Vampire Boy. “The one who was here, with that group.” Her disdain is loud, and Eddie doesn’t even have to fight a bristle, he was mad at them too, her anger was understandable. Steve shrugs, and Eddie- Eddie nods, strong and sharp. He’ll reap the consequences of his actions, and he’ll take those from whoever thinks he deserves the shit beaten out of him. Because honestly he does.

She glances over Eddie for a minute, “I made hamburgers for Dinner.” She turns around and walks back in the house. Leaving Eddie alone with Steve, her words hanging over them. Eddie looks at Steve for a long moment, and Steve looks at him- his eyes are soft, nervous, it’s all there- A thin scar covered face, scared lips turn up just slightly. It’s wobbly and anxious, it’s an invitation. Eddie gives a wobbly smile in return. Steve steps out of the doorway, shuffling back a little bit leaving the entryway wide open. It’s- it’s an invitation, and Eddie doesn’t want it. He really doesn’t want it- He shifts side to side a little bit, “I- I don’t,” Steve’s smile gets a little bigger, “Come on, she-” Steve’s voice crackles, “She won’t take no for an answer.” Okay, fuck, alright. Eddie shuffles up and into the house.

---

Steve isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing. His skin crawls, but- but Eddie apologized. And that has to mean something, right? The monster in his bones takes it at face value, having more of Pack back. It’s nauseating, it's disgusting, that he and the thing that lives in his brain agree, but Steve hates it, he hates it all. Eddie waits for him to shut and lock the door, doesn’t move from the entry way other than to take off his shoes. Steve doesn’t know what to do with that entirely. Mama has turned down the radio in the kitchen some, at least Steve thinks so.

He’s not even sure what her reasoning is for letting Eddie in the house. If Dad was home, he’d have probably slammed the door in Eddie’s face with little care for why he was there, or if what the older boy had to say was important or not. With little care for Steve’s feelings on the matter. Mama has a little more tact, but she’s still His mother, she’s just the same as she’s ever been. And Josefina Harrington is still a mega bitch, it’s almost just her general state of being, Steve had to learn it from somewhere. And it certainly wasn’t going to be from Dad.

Steve is hesitant to pass Eddie, but he almost stumbles past, off balance more today. Eddie’s hands lift up as if to steady him- they never touch him, something cries out in his chest, claws at his skin. Always at arm's length, never touched, he didn’t want him either- Mama is swaying gently to whatever is playing on the little radio in the kitchen, it’s too low for Steve’s fucked ears to pick up on. But she looks calm, happy- not like she’s plotting to murder Eddie. “Have you eaten yet?” Her eyes are on Eddie, she knows that Steve had a bowl of fruit and a yogurt for lunch.

Eddie waves his band in the air, “I had a bloodpop and meat cubs like 25 minutes ago, but I’ll eat again if you have enough for me. Ma’am.” Steve shuffles around the counter towards his Mama, and she hums at him, knocking her head against his when he gets close enough.

She let out a little soft coo at him. Steve didn’t respond verbally to the soothing noise, instead he knocked their heads together again, pressing his nose to her cheek before moving away. Still within arms reach, but not touching. He doesn’t want to corrupt her with his wrongness any more than he already has.

He could almost feel Eddie’s eyes following him, burning into his skin; Steve wasn’t brave enough to try and turn around to figure out what exactly was hiding in the vampire’s gaze. Mama does it for him, well not really- Steve curls his fingers, leaning against the island counter. “Josefina, or Josie, None of this Ma’am stuff. At least not while Richard isn’t home,” Mama doesn’t even call Dad Richard when she’s at home, at least when they don’t have Guests. He’s normally Richy, or sometimes James. “And of course we have enough, I invited you in, didn't I?” Steve wrinkles his nose, blinking a little sluggish at her. Avoiding Eddie’s imploring gaze, eyes fixated on the patties she was warming slightly on the stove. They were probably the weird frozen kind that Mama buys when she doesn’t want to put them together from scratch. His stomach cramps at the smell and at the idea of eating.

They sit in silence for a minute before Mama turns on Steve with a soft but sharp edged look, “You will sit down, or I will make you get back in bed.” He glanced at the chairs, at where Eddie was standing between the stools there. Steve breathes heavily, his sides ache, and his bones hurt from standing for so long.

He scratches at his wrist. Eddie pulls the stool out next to him, and Steve guesses the choice is made for him. Shuffling across the floor, he tucks up into the chair drawing his knees to his chest. Eddie isn’t warm, not entirely. But he’s solid.

Resisting the urge to lean off the back of the chair and against Eddie’s side draws most of his attention. Mama and Eddie talk about what Steve would never know- it’s, it’s movie nights all over again. Alone, Alone-Letting Eddie in the house was a mistake, this was all a mistake- Steve draws his arms over the top of his knees, biting sharp teeth down into his arm. Locks his jaw, digging into the little meat on his forearm as he can, mouth filling with blood. Copper coating his tongue, laving his tongue against his skin, pressing it there.

It was warm, and with the way he had his jaw clamped around his wrist- swallowing a mouthful of his own blood didn’t sound all that appealing. It dripped down his chin. Steve jerked back at a sharp hiss, tearing at the skin on his arms, effectively dragging deeper lines, blood welling up. Eddie hissed again, twisting Steve’s chair around with a startling amount of strength- fingers pressed against his jaw, as if trying to pry his mouth open. Steve’s mind sparked at the contact, whatever was left of their frayed pack bond bloomed on the edges of his mind. It buzzed in his ears and Steve clicked-

Mouth full of blood, pressing copper against all his senses, it was spilling down the back of his throat. “Steve let go.” Eddie’s voice was rough, harsh- Steve’s head spins, his heart pounding in his ears. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, the blood in his throat thick, slimy- too warm- his stomach cramps. “Stevie you have to let go- you’re hurting yourself-'' Steve knows that, he can tell- he digs his teeth in a little deeper, clamps his eyes shut, tears squeeze through he can feel them, the top half of his face getting wet. His teeth scrape bone. A new freshway of blood pools heavily on his tongue, spills down his throat, thick and heavy-

Steve’s ribs squeezed his lungs, he gagged, what was stuck in his throat filling his mouth. His stomach heaves. Eddie curses, grabbing his jaw and prying it open. Steve gags again, shoving at Eddie, snarling and snapping as he bends at the waist, vomiting all over the floor. The whole room smells like blood. Steve spit a glob on the floor before gagging again. Tears curl down his face, he hates this, he hates all of this.

Eddie lets out a cooing noise, soft and somewhat like Mama’s sounds- but it’s different, Mama’s not- Mama’s not here. Logically Steve knows she is, but his brain’s all screwy. It's all wrong.

Steve lets out a loud distressed whine, blood coating his lips as his stomach cramps. All of this is terrible- it hurts, hurts- his arm throbs. “You’re okay Stevie, your mom went to get something to clean up. She’ll be right back.” Eddie’s voice was high, probably panicked, but the older was clearly trying his damn best to make sure Steve wasn’t freaking out.

His chest heaved, gagging around, his chest hurt, his stomach hurt- and it was- Steve whined again, “I know sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry honey.” the animalistic urge to bare his teeth at Eddie gnawed on his skin, crawled through his bones. Steve felt untethered. Mama comes back, he can smell her more than he can hear her. Lets her and Eddie sit him up, lets her inspect his teeth marks, stares numbly forwards and says nothing as she stiches them up because his arm is basically torn open. Steve just lets it all happen around him, doesn’t respond to her vocal calls, or Eddie’s soothing tones. His mind buzzes. Steve feels empty.

--- I know I said Untuned Piano first, but this one demanded attention. Probably due to me actually looking at my Asks and having a spark of fleeting motivation. So I scrambled to get it done and then spent the past like 2 days working on this instead of my school work. If it shit I apologize. I've rewritten this portion like four times. Was never really happy with it, but I'm chill with this. Though when this goes up on Ao3 (If I ever get my dumbass around to doing it), I'll probably rewrite a bunch of it, and add some stuff in. So it'll be worth it to read it over there too! :D

Thank you for your comments!! I crave validation and you are all incredibly nice and very motivating :)) <3 Fingers cross Depression doesn't knock me on my ass before I can get anything done.

Tags: @theghostinmymachine @sadcanadianwinter @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @bisexualdisastersworld @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @estrellami-1 @raysreads @knightofthieves @sassysleeplord @gezell-igg @ledleaf @haluton @h0n3y-dw @thegingerrapunzel @finalmoondragon @warrior-616 @lexyvey @thesuninyaface @whalesharksart @two-faced-biatch @plasticcrotches @xtkxkrzrizir @minjintea @potatofist18 @just-a-tiny-void @selune2 @hellomynameismoo @princessstevemunson @plantzzsandpencilzzs @wearelosersyoudumbfuck @dbquills @pheonixashtree @sharingisntkaren @gregre369 @chaoticlovingdreamer @obliosworld

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claracivry · 1 year

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sending a request for ur whump fic ! wayne taking care of a sick young eddie :))

Anon!! It's been a million years but I did it!! Hope you're still around to read it!!

Anyways, if any of you like good uncle Wayne and soft baby Eddie with some sick fic, come get your content!! Poor Eddie gets chickenpox and Wayne is... concerned

Enjoy! (x)

#my fics #eddie munson whump #eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie and wayne munson #sickfic #sick eddie munson #would love to hear your thoughts!!!

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eddiephobic · 1 year

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thinking about Wayne letting Eddie sleep with him in the living room when Eddie’s having a hard time sleeping.. as much as Wayne doesn’t want to admit it - it helps him sleep better too having him around.

Even if Eddie snores..

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #strangers things #joseph quinn #eddie munson whump #sick eddie munson #very sick eddie munson #wayne munson #uncle wayne munson #wayne munson stranger things #wayne and eddie munson #the munsons #eddie having sleeping problems #wayne loving his newphew ahhwweeeee

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atimeofyourlife · 6 months

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Whumptober day 30

Steve had bandaged Eddie's wounds in a hurry using scraps torn from everyone's clothing. Knowing that it would be a race against time to get him the help that he needed, that at any second it could all be over. His breathing was shallow and irregular, his pulse weak and thready. Steve was hesitant to attempt to perform CPR, knowing the extent of the injuries would have caused Eddie's blood pressure to plummet, and that any CPR without stopping the bleeding would only push the blood out of Eddie's body even faster. So they had to get Eddie somewhere for proper medical attention before he got to the point of needing CPR.

Steve picked Eddie up in a bridal carry, doing his best not to cause any more damage. Even though it wasn't that far they had to walk, it felt like forever. They slowly headed for the gate at the edge of the trailer park, the one caused by Fred's death, as it was the closest that would be easy to get through. With every step, Steve could feel the time running out. He could almost feel the life draining out of Eddie's body. He pressed on, trying not to think about how fruitless the effort was.

At the gate, Steve lowered Eddie through carefully with the help of Robin on the other side. He pulled himself through, then turned to pick Eddie up in another bridal carry, ready to get him to safety and the medical attention he so desperately needed. But as Steve got his arms situated under Eddie, he realized that there was no point. That they were too late. Eddie had stopped breathing, and his heart had given up after pumping out what seemed to be almost all the blood in his body. Steve still picked him up, carrying Eddie's body until they could find a proper place to lay him to rest.

#whumptober2023 #no.30 #bridal carry #stranger things #fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #eddie munson whump #atimeofyourwrites

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acasualcrossfade · 30 days

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Flayed

Stranger Things | Steddie | Rating: T | Words: 1789 | Ao3

CW: (handcuffs as) restraints, being restrained, mentions of physical violence, sedation

Written for @whumpril day 1: Limp | Divider art: @saradika-graphics

Steve helps Hopper restrain a violent and Flayed Eddie.

Steve barely breathed as he backed himself against the wall of the living room, watching Hopper pull in a squirming Eddie from outside. Steve’s nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of chemicals from Eddie and his heart froze.

Eddie whined and grunted in Hopper’s hold as he kicked and struggled to get back outside to the garden shed.

“Get my cuffs, my cuffs,” Hopper grunted as he struggled with Eddie through the doorway of the house. Steve blinked and jumped into action, grabbing Hopper’s cuffs from where he left them on the dining room table.

“I have to go back, I have to go back,” Eddie whined, pulling against Hopper’s hold and reaching to get free. Eddie’s head swung and Hopper launched back to avoid getting hit.

Eddie’s mouth was stained with soil and flecks of green fertilizer. His eyes were wide and empty, yet desperate as he fought against Hopper.

“I have to go back!!” Eddie wailed, his arms reaching towards the door as he tried to get away.

Steve’s heart thudded in his chest. Eddie was just fine seconds ago. They were just sitting on the couch. They were just talking. He watched in vain as Eddie arched backwards as his mouth opened wide. Eddie’s eyes rolled back to white and he trembled hard before he let out a blood-curdling screech.

The shrill, dissonant sound sent chills up Steve’s spine and he dropped the cuffs to clamp his hands over his ears. It was as if the sound came from every single pore of Eddie’s body. The sound split through his head and Steve groaned as he felt the start of a migraine.

Hopper managed to get a better hold on Eddie, but couldn’t get his rigid form to move more than a few steps at a time.

The sound broke off suddenly and Eddie twisted in Hopper’s hold as he tried to pry out of Hopper’s hold.

Steve’s heart raced in his chest, but he forced himself to move, to help, to do anything. He grabbed the cuffs from the floor and pushed himself back to standing.

Hopper grunted as he struggled to keep Eddie from getting past him. But step by slow step, he was pushing Eddie back to the bedroom.

“The bed, we’ll cuff him to the bed,” Hopper grunted, managing to fight Eddie back through the doorway of the bedroom.

Eddie’s hand found the doorframe and he grabbed it, flat out refusing to go any farther. Hopper strained and Steve tried to pry Eddie’s fingers away from the wood. Eddie’s grip was inhumanly strong, but Steve managed to peel one finger away, then another, enough for Hopper to shove Eddie the rest of the way in and onto the bed. Hopper kept his forearm pressed over Eddie’s chest to keep him down.

Eddie flailed as he screamed, this time the sound a garbled cry as he reared off the bed. Hopper pressed his forearm against Eddie’s chest, reaching for Steve with a shaking hand.

“The cuffs, hurry, the cuffs.”

Steve handed them over and watched as Hopper held Eddie down and managed to click the cuffs around his right wrist. Hopper pulled the other pair from his belt, still trying to get Eddie to stop fighting.

Steve felt frozen where he stood as Eddie flailed on the bed, his legs and limbs a blurred flurry of movement. His kicks thumped against the mattress and shook the whole frame. Eddie groaned as he fought, sweaty with exertion, but still putting up enough fight for Hopper to have to work to keep him down.

Steve rushed to the bedside to help, hating that Eddie still squirmed as he yanked at the frame with his restrained wrist.

“Get his arm,” Hopper nodded, firmly pressing Eddie to the bed to keep him in place. Eddie struggled under Hopper, his arm beating against Hopper’s sides and arms, but Steve managed to catch Eddie’s wrist and force it up towards the bed frame. It took more effort than he was ready for, and Steve was forced to pull Eddie’s arm up towards the frame. The man whine and pulled away, but Steve held strong.

Hopper moved quickly and got the cuff around Eddie’s left wrist to click the cuff in place. Now cuffed to the bed, Eddie couldn’t move his arms, but his body still arched and thumped against the bed as he tried to escape.

The room filled with Eddie’s frustrated grunts and growls of annoyance between the rattling of the cuffs against the metal bed frame. Steve backed away from Eddie feeling shaky and sick as he watched the man strain against the cuffs. The bedframe rattled behind him as Eddie yanked at it; Steve was suddenly nervous that Eddie would bend the metal with his efforts.

“Wh-what happened?” Steve demanded. “He was just fine three seconds ago and now he’s rabid and screaming like a banshee?”

Steve had to give himself credit for knowing what a banshee was, and made a mental note to thank Dustin. Still, the sight of Eddie’s body jerking around on the bed made his chest constrict. There wasn’t much in the room besides the bed and the dresser-turned-medicine cabinet. It was lined with papers and pill bottles and Steve leaned against it for support as he caught his breath.

“I have no idea,” he admitted between heavy breaths. He shook his head, just as confused.

Eddie reared back again, throwing his head against the mattress hard enough to make Steve wince.

Eddie thrashed and cried out, his fingers stretched and reaching for something, his black eyes staring blankly past the two of them. His Hellfire shirt was torn in places and stained in others, and his jeans were streaked with mud. Hopper had clamped the cuffs tightly around Eddie’s wrists and the skin was already turning an angry, irritated red.

Eddie moaned and suddenly went rigid as he trembled again, black veins suddenly starting to criss-cross over his dirt-stained hands and snake up his arms.

“We have to put him out,” Hopper grunted, already moving toward the dresser where Steve stood. He jumped away to give Hopper access to it, watching as the police chief pulled open the top drawer, and then the second.

“I have to go back, I have to go back, I have to go back,” Eddie gasped. His voice was clear and sounded like his own again, but his eyes were still blank as his head thrashed from side to side.

Steve watched Hopper dig around the second drawer before pulling out a needle and a small bottle of clear liquid.

Hopper turned the small bottle upside down and drew from it to fill the syringe.

Steve’s knees weakened at the sight of the needle and his ears rang. The world went blurry, but Hopper’s voice forced him to stay conscious.

“Hey, hey, I need you on two feet,” Hopper called, eying him. “I need you to hold him down again.”

Eddie’s arms jerked as he pulled at the cuffs, but Steve grabbed his right one and did his best to hold it still. Eddie made no eye contact with either of them, eyes still darting around for a way out.

Steve didn’t think about how it’d been mere minutes since Eddie was with them on the couch, didn't think about his knee pressed against Steve’s as they created a plan...

“Hold him still,” Hopper urged and Steve had no choice but to use both hands on Eddie’s bicep and forearm to hold his arm still. The black veins webbed under Eddie’s skin and Steve felt something sick stir in him as he watched the needle stab into Eddie, the sedative pushing into his veins.

Eddie’s desperate pleas to go back broke off as he collapsed against the bed. His body shuddered and he let out a heavy exhale before going limp. Eddie’s eyes fluttered in resistance, but they gave in and slid shut.

Eddie lay still.

Steve carefully let his grip loosen and fall away from Eddie’s arm. The immediate silence of the room made Steve’s knees wobble and he gripped the dresser for support. His ears buzzed with the echoing sounds of Eddie’s screams and whines, but as the room stood in silence for the first time in minutes, Steve felt relief flood through his jarred nerves.

With the relief came the overwhelming nausea crawling up his throat. The smell of soil and chemicals, the shrill scream, and the jab of the needle into black veins made him gag. He pressed the back of his hand and forced himself to swallow as he staggered to the door of the room. He stopped, not wanting to leave Eddie, and instead collapsed against the doorframe to suck in deep breaths. He wasn’t going to lose it, he wasn’t going to lose it.

Hopper’s strong hand gripped his shoulder in support. “Hey, you’re okay. You did great. It’s okay.”

Steve’s mind was still tumbling with thoughts. “What the hell just happened? Wasn’t he just fine earlier? Minutes ago?”

Their plan to use Eddie as a spy had slipped from genius to useless in a matter of minutes. Steve glanced to where they’d all been sitting not five minutes ago. Eddie’s glass of water stood untouched, and the notes he scribbled had fallen to the floor in his sudden flee out the door. Steve’s skin crawled as his mind struggled to make sense of it all.

He looked back at Eddie’s limp body on the bed. Eddie’s eyes slid slowly back and forth under his lids, but his body was deathly still. Another chill worked itself up Steve’s spine.

Bruises were already starting to bloom over Eddie’s wrists.

“He can’t last like this,” Hopper said, running a worried hand over his mustache. “Even flayed, his body won’t survive through this.” His eyes glanced over Eddie, checking to make sure he was truly sedated. “I’m calling Owens. Stay with him.”

Hopper disappeared from the bedroom before Steve could respond.

Steve looked over at Eddie in the bed. His sweaty curls were fanned out across the pillow, and despite the soil and fertilizer that stained his mouth and hands, he almost looked normal. Like Eddie. Still, exhaustion was etched over Eddie’s eyes and his skin was pale and waxy in the light of the bedroom.

Eddie’s body looked as worn out as Steve felt.

Steve took a careful seat at the end of Eddie’s bed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He pressed a hand over Eddie’s ankle and squeezed it.

There was nothing he could do but wait.

And hope that Eddie, his Eddie, would survive this.

#whumpril #whumpril2024 #whumpril day 1: limp #steddie #steddie whump #eddie munson whump #flayed eddie munson #hurt eddie munson #steve harrington #jim hopper #steddie fic #acasualcrossfade writes #thunderously_halo writes #whump

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