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starkidmunson · 3 months

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glitter & crimson

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?”

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything?

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him.

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game.

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face.

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes.

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks.

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile.

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh.

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him.

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin.

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs.

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance.

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him.

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one.

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.”

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip.

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

#steddie #steddie hockey au #steddie rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #stranger things #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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xoxoladyaz · 11 months

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It Hits Different This Time, Part 2

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie x Steve Harrington

TW: Mentions of alcohol, drug abuse

QUICK AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so sorry that the last entry was so angst heavy, I promise this one provides some comfort! Eddie needed to take a big step here and he really, really does. Also, much love to everyone who commented, I've tagged you at the bottom of the post - let me know if anyone else would like to be notified of the next entry!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

It was another five days before Steve heard from Eddie. Another five torturous days of radio silence, only this time, there wasn’t anything online. No new articles were popping up saying he’d been spotted somewhere, no new TikToks of him meeting fans on the street. The rest of the band was MIA too; Steve had thought about sending Jeff a text to check-in but ultimately decided to wait another couple days. Robin had been texting with Chrissy, after all, and if something bad had gone down, she would know.

When Eddie did finally call, it wasn’t from a number that Steve recognized.

“I’m getting a call from Malibu.”

“Holy shit!” Robin sat up on the other end of the couch and shot him a look. “Okay, just breathe dingus, okay? It’s going to be okay, I’ll be here the whole time.” She squeezed his ankle comfortingly. “You can do this.”

Steve accepted the call with shaky hands and brought his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey Steve.”

He shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Eddie.”

He heard Eddie let out a watery laugh across the line. “Do you, uh, have a minute?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Steve hummed. He physically couldn’t get an actual word out.

This was it. Eddie was leaving, he’d cheated, it was over –

“I’m in rehab.”

Steve’s eyes shot open. “You’re what?”

Robin started rocking back and forth. “Turn it up!” She hissed, and Steve obliged, turning up his volume so she could just barely hear what was being said. (Was this a private conversation? Yes. Did Eddie know he’d probably immediately tell Robin everything? Also yes.

Was this news big enough to warrant having Robin eavesdrop?

Absolutely yes.)

“Yeah, I’m, uh, at the Promises Treatment Center in Malibu,” Eddie continued. “We got back about five days ago and when I saw your note, I –

“Look, Steve,” Eddie continued, and his voice was choked up, like he himself couldn’t speak, “I fucked up. I’ve fucked everything up. You are – you said in that note that you didn’t want me to give up on my dreams, and you’re right, making it big and getting famous for my music was my dream for literal years. Because I kept thinking “once I get a record out there,” “once I go on tour,” “once I win a Grammy,” “once I get a million dollars,” then I’d finally be happy.

“But it turns out the only thing being famous has done is make me pretty fucking miserable,” Eddie let out a harsh laugh. “But I was so goddamn convinced that this was it, you know, that I’d accomplished my dreams so I must be happy that I started taking whatever I could get my fucking hands on to make me feel that way. The thing is drugs and the alcohol and the parties never made it fucking last. It just made every other second that I was in the public eye that much worse.

“But I’d still made it, you know? I felt like I didn’t deserve to feel this fucking miserable. And everyone back home was so fucking proud and I didn’t want to let them down - ” Eddie paused for a few moments to clear his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to let you down. Because Eddie “The Freak” Munson didn’t deserve you, but maybe Eddie “The Rock Star” could.”

Steve can feel his own throat closing up and he can barely see Robin’s face, his eyes are watering that bad. “Baby,” he sobbed. “I wish you’d told me.”

“Me too,” Eddie sniffled across the line. “I didn’t though, I just kept self-medicating and ignoring it, because that’s always worked,” he huffed sarcastically. “But then - ” Eddie cut off again, and Steve can hear that he’s trying so hard to hold back his own sobs, “then I came home last week and realized that I’d missed our goddamn anniversary because I was too fucking high and that you were gone and I just – I called Jeff and I told him to get me on a plane out here because you – you, Steve Harrington, you are the best thing in my goddamn life. And the only dream I want to chase now is the one where we get married and adopt some kids and grow old together.”

“Eddie,” Steve sobbed out again, and he heard Eddie start to cry too, and then suddenly they were crying together, even from hundreds of miles away.

“So I’m gonna be here for the next six weeks,” Eddie finally continued, his voice still full of tears. “I’m, uh, meeting with a therapist for a few hours every day and working through my shit. I wanna be a guy who deserves good things, baby. I wanna be a guy who deserves you.”

“What – what about the band?” Steve sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. A handful of Kleenex appeared in front of him. Robin must have gotten up to grab them at some point. He shot her a thankful nod and patted at his eyes; Robin nodded back and did the same, her face flushed that bright shade of red that accompanied her own tears.

“Murray wrote a provision into our contract where if one of us checks into rehab, then the band is instantly put on a two-year, non-negotiable hiatus.”

“But – what about your momentum, the label kept talking about it?”

“The label can go fuck themselves” Eddie practically growled over the phone. “Who do you think hosted the party where I first got my hands on the hardcore stuff anyways?”

“Babe - ”

“Murray said he was going to look into some sort of contract termination so we can sign somewhere else. And even if we didn’t have that thing written into our contract, we probably would have gone on hiatus anyways, or worse. That – the last leg was rough. Gareth was just as fucked up as I was and Jeff was fucking pissed. He kept having to pull Gareth out of orgies and shit while babysitting Phil and I too.”

“Did,” Steve swallowed harshly, “did - ”

“No, baby, never,” Eddie declared quickly. “Even when I couldn’t fucking see straight, you were the only one I wanted to be with. I honestly don’t even know who we were partying with at the end there, the label sent them for some PR shit, I don’t know. It’s just another reason why we want out.”

“Oh,” Steve murmured, “okay. Good. Or, well, not good. You know.”

“Yeah, baby, I do,” Eddie replied softly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other breathe. “I, uh,” Eddie started up again quietly, “I’m wearing the ring.”

“Yeah?” Steve found himself smiling despite the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice was just as choked up as before. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Eddie - ”

“Look, I know, I know I hurt you so, so badly and I’m never going to fucking forgive myself for what I did, but I – you’re everything I want, baby. If I had to give up Corroded Coffin tomorrow for you, I would do it in a heartbeat. And I – I know I can’t expect for you to just, like, forgive me after the shit I pulled, but – will you be there, when I get out? Can I – I want to come home to you,” Eddie finished, and Steve could hear that he was crying again.

Steve looked over at Robin, who was wiping more tears out of her own eyes. They looked at each other for a few moments.

It might be crazy, but I think I want to say yes.

I don't blame you. I mean, this is one hell of an apology, especially from Mr. “I’ll Never Need to Go to Rehab Ever.”

Yeah. And I love him.

And you love him.

“I’ll be there,” Steve murmured reassuringly, and Eddie burst into a new wave of muffled sobs on the other end of the phone. “Just do what you need to do and come home when you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting for home.”

“At home?” Eddie’s voice broke on a whimper.

“At home. I’ll even clean the bathrooms and everything,” Steve joked, and Eddie let out a loud laugh despite the quiet sobs Steve could still hear.

“Really? You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I’ll be there. We can get through this.”

“Together.”

“Together. Because I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie let out an incredulous laugh again, “I love you so fucking much, baby. I’m going to marry the fuck out of you someday.”

“Save the sweet talk for when you get home, okay?” Steve could feel his heart settling in his chest, and whatever tears he’d had left to cry were all gone now. There was just the twinge of missing Eddie, but that would go away soon enough. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Eds.”

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s answer was soft now. “So I, uh, get a couple hours to call people every day from one of the site’s phones. Can I keep calling you?”

“Please,” Steve heard Eddie exhale in relief. “Every day sounds perfect.”

“Good, good. I’ll have to, uh, use some of my time to talk to Wayne, but the rest of it is yours, baby. And Gareth, Jeff threw him into a different center too. His check-in was much less voluntary though.”

“Shit,” Steve winced. “Is there anything Robin or I can do to help?”

“Take Jeff and Chrissy out to a nice dinner and use the Amex,” Eddie snorted, causing Steve to laugh.

“Consider it done.”

“Good." Steve heard the sound of another voice behind Eddie. Eddie replied something Steve couldn't understand, but it was in the affirmative. "Doc says my time is up for today. My, uh, talk with Wayne took up a lot of time,” Eddie returned, and his voice trembled as he spoke. “But I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Yes you will.” Steve shut his eyes and imagined Eddie was standing right in front of him. Eddie with his riotous curls and holey graphic tees and tight jeans. Eddie with his rings on his fingers, with Steve’s ring on his finger. Eddie, standing across from him and smiling at him with that twinkle in his eye that had first caught Steve’s attention all those years ago.

“I love you, Eds.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

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#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #robin buckley #platonic stobin #rock star Eddie munson #sweetheart steve harrington

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pricelessemotion · 3 months

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love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little boy like you) | E.M.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: [2.4k] eddie takes you on that halloween date. it doesn’t go quite like you expected.

warnings: pure fluff, a little awkward date shenanigans, r is described as having frizzy hair and wearing prescription glasses, r also has an (unnamed) sister

a/n: ah! i’ve been dying to write and post a part two for this fic since halloween and i thought there was no better time to post it than now! happy valentine’s day 🖤

masterlist | part one

“There, perfect!” Your sister punctuates the end of her makeover with the snap of her powder compact and the flourish of a makeup brush.

You turn slowly, the pink cushioned stool a little wobbly under your unsteady frame. Your reflection looks comical, all blurred edges and wavy lines. Without your glasses, the bedroom vanity has turned into a funhouse mirror.

“What does it matter if I’m going on a date with him if I can barely see him?”

You don’t need glasses to know that she’s rolling her eyes. Even though you can’t quite see her, you can hear her exasperation in the way she’s loudly chewing her gum. “You’re going to the movies, you’re barely gonna be able to see him anyway. Besides, you’ll be able to see him when he’s close enough to kiss and that’s the whole point.”

You blink each eye one at a time, trying to gauge which one is better. Your left eye is slightly clearer, though the difference is negligible. “I think you’re severely overestimating my eyesight.”

“I think you’re severely underestimating my dating advice.” She blows a bubble, the view of her face becoming a bright pink smudge before it pops and she continues smacking. “Just trust me, it’ll all be fine.”

You do trust her. Even though she has spent the last two hours plucking and primping and preening, you want to take her advice. She’s not doing this to be condescending or controlling. She’s genuinely excited that you have a date, even more so that it’s with a living breathing human boy and not another library book.

You don’t have much experience. With dating, with seeing someone, with kissing someone. What it means to be dating someone versus what it means to be seeing someone. What you’re supposed to do when you kiss someone. I mean, are your lips supposed to be on top of each other or are they supposed to interlock like the teeth of a zipper? Yeesh, you didn’t even wanna think about how teeth and tongues factor into the equation.

These types of questions would usually be the kind that you would ask an older sister. You’ve just never had the bravery to say them out loud. Sure, you’ve watched romance movies and rewound and observed so much that you were afraid the tape in the VHS was going to break. And you’ve read enough romance that Ms. Marissa gives you side-eye when you pass the library’s reception desk. But there’s a difference between fiction and real life. A bridge you’ve yet to cross. You’re sure that you’re going to need all the help you can get.

So, you heed her advice. You let her spray you with enough Aquanet to try to keep the flyaways at bay. You let her paint your lips with a shimmery pink lip gloss that isn’t too sticky and tastes like vanilla. You don’t, however, let her see you sneak the thick frames into your bag for emergencies. If it were up to her, the frames would be set out with Thursday’s garbage and you’d be wearing contacts like everyone else in your age group.

She drops you off at The Hawk with another smack of her bubblegum and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She barely waits for you to close the door of the station wagon before she’s speeding away, her Halloween plans including a keg, a pushup bra, and a slightly inebriated Steve Harrington.

Eddie’s easy to spot. His silhouette sticks out against the brick building, white shirt, black leather, and blue denim against a red background. He lights up when he sees you and it’s the first time you’ve understood the meaning of the phrase. Since you can’t quite see his face clearly, you’re paying extra attention to his body. The way he pushes off the wall to stand tall. The way his shoulders visibly relax. You bet that they could see his smile all way in Indianapolis.

“I know you’re usually supposed to give flowers on dates, but this is the best I could do.”

He presents an origami paper flower in the shape of a rose. It’s made from binder paper, evident by the familiar feel of it in your hands. The folds are a bit unsure. There’s evidence of it being undone and folded again with a cleaner precision, you can feel the wear and tear on the paper with your fingertips. You’re dumbfounded.

“Thank you,” You whisper, twirling the stem between your thumb and forefinger, watching the rosebud spin. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Never?” He gapes at you in apparent disbelief before he schools his expression. “Well then, I’m glad to be the first.” He offers his arm to you like a real gentleman and you take it.

The leather in the crook of his elbow is cold to the touch, but being in such close proximity you can feel the body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s a continuous marathon, so they’re showing movies all night. We can start with any one that you want.” He gestures up to the marquee above the concession stand. When you look up to the sign, the words might as well be written in Cyrillic the way the letters all blur together.

After a trip to the concessions stand, the two of you eventually settle on The Exorcist, which you had decided to cling to after Eddie’s nervous yet adorable rambling about which movie would be better to start with.

Horror movies are even scarier when you can’t tell what’s going on. It didn’t occur to you how much you relied on sight to be able to mentally prepare for jump scares. Eddie must think you’re a total wimp the way you practically leap out of your seat at every flash on the silver screen that accompanies a discordant string of violins.

You jump when you feel a hand brush your bicep, your arms flinging out. It’s much too late when you realize that intimate touch was Eddie trying to figure out if you were alright. The large Coke that Eddie had gotten–two straws because he said he didn’t wanna be presumptuous–the casualty of your fright. The flimsy lid pops off like it has nothing better to do and the dark brown liquid splashes over the arm of the seat right into Eddie’s lap.

Eddie recoils, half-jumping and half-hovering in his seat because he just got a handful of ice-cold soda in his crotch. The people behind you are jeering, grumbling about the disturbance and Eddie half-whispers fucking shit under his breath, in what you’re sure must be a mixture of disdain and disgust.

You pull napkins out of your purse and thrust them in Eddie’s direction before rushing out of the theater, chest heaving and eyes stinging.

It’s a wonder you don’t trip and fall on your way out. You’ve walked these dimly lit halls hundreds of times, so luckily instinct and muscle memory win out and you make it out of the theater mostly unscathed, just with a few bruises on each shoulder. Nothing compared to the mortification of what had happened inside.

Because it’s October in Indiana and you can’t seem to catch a break, it’s raining. Only every so slightly, but enough that you’d be soaked to the bone if you walked home thanks to your sister’s insistence that you dress for fashion and not function. You huddle close to the payphone, pondering if you have enough change to call around and get your sister to pick you back up because no way are you waking up your parents for this.

The doors to the theater creak open behind you and suddenly you’re not alone anymore. The biting cold chills you to the bone but it’s Eddie’s presence behind you that sets you on fire.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last hour and a half in the dark with your nerves on edge, but the tenderness in Eddie’s voice makes your throat constrict.

“I’m sorry,” You blubber. “I’m so embarrassed. I just wanted everything to be perfect and I ruined it.”

“Hey. Hey.” Eddie repeats himself more forcefully when you don’t meet his gaze the first time, “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just a little soda. I’ll live.”

His fingers rub the back of your hands in a soothing motion. Back and forth, thumbs caressing the valleys between your knuckles. He’s close enough that his features are almost in focus. You still have to squint.

“You keep doing that.” He points his fingers toward your furrowed brow before mimicking the action on his own face. The finger is not accusatory, it just seems like Eddie likes to talk with his hands.

You sigh, a resigned and weary sound. “My sister convinced me that I shouldn’t wear my glasses.”

Eddie makes a face that you can’t quite discern in the dark before letting out a soft hmph! “Your sister kinda sounds a little mean.”

“She means well.” You defend, weakly. You love your sister to death but there are times that your differences become much too apparent and that leaves you with nothing to do but suffer the consequences. This is one of those times.

“Did you bring them with you?”

“Yeah,” You reach into your bag, finding the frames folded into one of the inner pockets.

Eddie takes them and puts them on you. “You keep doing that.” You murmur, a repeat of his earlier accusation. Now, though, you both know it’s in reference to him adjusting your glasses not just once but twice.

“It gives me an excuse to be close to you.”

You can see him with unrelenting clarity now. The little crinkles next to his eyes as he smiles warmly down at you. The way the slight breeze has carried the miserable drizzle under the theater awning. The way that drizzle clings to his curly hair like dewdrops on morning grass. You almost robbed yourself of all of this, and for what? Eddie knows what you look like.

“Y’know what I thought when I saw you yesterday?” Yesterday, when you had been wearing a witch hat on top of your frizzy hair and the same Coke bottle glasses that sit on the slope of your nose now. “I thought that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I thought I made a fool outta myself and that you wouldn’t give me the time of day, not in a million years.”

“The whole scaredy cat schtick was quite endearing I must say.”

He nods seriously, just a slight hint of a smirk on his face. “I try my best.”

You look down at the seat of his pants. Sure enough, there’s a dark stain splashed right across his crotch.“Oh god. I'm so sorry. Again”

“What did I tell you about apologizing?”

“You didn’t say anything about apologizing.”

“Well then, this is me saying something. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It looks like you pissed yourself,” You wail mournfully.

“Well, that definitely makes me feel better.” Eddie jests before he tugs you into his chest and plants his chin on top of your head.

You nuzzle your face into his sternum, appreciating the soft hiss he lets out when your cold nose touches his warm skin. You inwardly groan because, quite frankly, there’s nothing more embarrassing than running out of a nearly full movie theater the way that you did. The only thing more embarrassing than that, you think, is going back inside after having embarrassed yourself. You tell Eddie as much, with the reassurance that you don’t want the date to end and if he really wants to, you can go back inside and finish the movie. He’s already tugging you toward his van that’s parked on the other side of the street, saying the six words that make your night:

“I own The Exorcist on VHS.”

You spend the entire time back in the trailer park cuddled up having quiet conversation about gory practical effects over a bowl of microwaved popcorn. The closest he gets to kissing you is when you duck into his chest to hide and his lips brush your temple. He could’ve lived off of that single brush for the rest of his life if he had to.

When Eddie pulls up to your house later that night, he really does mean to give you an innocent kiss goodnight. The neighborhood is quiet, seeing as it’s probably been an hour since the children of Hawkins had fallen into their sugar-induced comas. He turns the engine off and shifts towards you, his smile both giddy and shy while he tells you that he had a really good time tonight. You mirror his expression and tell him the same. You both lean forward, chests rising and falling in tandem, noses brushing.

When you finally make it past the front door, your lips are swollen and your glasses are fogged up. You kick off your shoes and pad up the carpeted steps two at a time, racing to your bedroom window. When you turn on your lamp and look out to the tree-lined street, Eddie waves at you, his rings glinting in the streetlight. You wave back, watching the van disappear into the distance.

“Hey,” Your sister is leaning against the doorframe, smiling like the cat who got the cream.

“How’d it go?” You’re already slightly aware of the answer since she’s standing in front of you with a freshly washed face and hand-me-down pajamas instead of in an empty house in Loch Nora.

She shrugs noncommittally, “It was a bust.”

You hum in solemn solidarity, trying to tug the grin on your face into a much more situationally appropriate neutral expression. You feel for her and you don’t want to rub it in her face that you had such a good time, despite her advice. Unfortunately, you do not seem to have as much control over your facial muscles as you think you do. Your sister sees right through you, grabbing the purple throw pillow at the foot of the bed and launching it at your face telling you to shut up. You catch it before it has the chance to hit you, huffing with righteous indignation at her before the two of you collapse onto the bed in muffled laughter.

“So, how’d it go?” She whispers in your direction, mindful of your sleeping parents down the hall.

You trace your cupid’s bow, feeling the chapped and swollen skin for the hundredth time that night. You turn your head toward hers, readjusting your glasses when they slide down your nose.

“It was perfect.”

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished 🖤

#eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #mimi wrote ✍️#poltergeists for sidekicks #love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little boy like you)

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 1 year

Text

Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something

A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.

My Master List | Ao3

—

“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.

“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”

“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.

You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.

“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”

“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.

“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”

“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.

“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”

You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”

You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.

The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess”, you say.

“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.

“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”

“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.

You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.

“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”

“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”

“Oh, no, not really”, you say.

“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.

“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.

“Okay”, you say.

“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”

“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.

“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.

“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”

Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.

“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.

“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.

“You can’t be serious…”, you say.

Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.

“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”

Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.

“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”

You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.

“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”

Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”

You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.

“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”

You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.

“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”

He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.

You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.

Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.

“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”

Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.

“What do you want?” Jason demands.

“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”

“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”

“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.

Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.

“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”

You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”

You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.

“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”

You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.

You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.

You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.

Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.

Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.

As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.

You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.

She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.

“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”

You take a deep breath, turning away from her.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.

“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.

You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?

You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.

You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.

During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.

In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”

All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.

Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.

You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.

“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.

“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”

Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.

Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.

“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.

The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.

He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”

“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”

You can feel heat flood your cheeks.

“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.

“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.

“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”

“Get over yourself!”

“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”

You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.

He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.

“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.

“I-I…I’m sorry I…”

“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”

You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.

“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.

“Is that true?”

“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”

Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.

“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”

Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”

Not really, no, but you can’t say that.

“Yes”, you reply instead.

“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”

You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.

There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Eddie”, you huff playfully.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.

“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.

“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”

Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.

His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.

“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”

“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.

Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.

“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”

You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.

“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”

“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”

“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.

On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.

“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.

“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.

“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”

There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.

“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”

“I’m here.”

You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”

You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.

“What? When?”

“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.

You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…

Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.

“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.

You can’t help but smile along with him.

“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.

You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.

You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.

After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.

“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”

Eddie nods.

“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.

“For what?”

“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”

“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”

“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”

“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”

That gets a grin out of Eddie.

“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.

“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.

Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.

If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.

Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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The Stars Align | Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: Your hopeless crush on Eddie Munson might not be so hopeless after all thanks to a trip to family video

Content: fluff, Steve has a little crush on you but you’re into eddie, swearing, making out, mentions of bullying, she/her pronouns, reader is a year younger than Eddie

Word Count: 3.1K

a/n: i haven’t posted a fic in so long i’m so happy i was actually able to finish something! i hope you all enjoy :)

divider by @firefly-in-darkness

“Oh my god, Robin, she’s here! How does my hair look?” Steve asks frantically as he sees your car pull into family video. “Who is it this week?” She sighs, growing tired of seeing Steve strike out again and again.

“You already know who it is. I’ve been using my best work for weeks and…nothing” he groans. “Really? Telling her about the time you had a dental emergency due to milk duds is your best work?”

Before Steve can respond, the bell above the door rings and you walk in, looking as pretty as ever.

“H-hey! Haven’t seen you in a while. I hope you aren’t cheating on us with blockbuster” Steve says when you approach the counter and Robin cringes so much that she has to walk away.

“Nope” you say with a laugh “I’ve just been busy, but I finally have a night to myself. Can you check if you have a movie for me?”

“yeah, anything for you- I mean, um anything for a loyal customer not like I’d do anything for you. Well, I might, but not in a weird way-”

“Steve” you chuckle “I didn’t think it was anything weird. Until now”

“Right, yeah. Sorry. Anyways, what movie are ya lookin’ for?” He sits at the computer to pull up the movies on file. “Nightmare on Elm Street”

“Actually, my friend, Eddie, rented that yesterday, but I can see if he’s watched it yet so he can bring it back for you?” he suggests

“Eddie munson? You’re friends with him?”

“Oh, yeah, but don’t worry he doesn’t actually worship the devil he’s just like this huge nerd with a weird taste in music”

“No, I know. I just, uh, think he’s really cute”

“Oh” he says in a bit of disbelief. he’s been trying to ask you out for weeks and this whole time you’ve had the hots for Eddie. “You think he’s cute?” Robin asks, appearing out of nowhere with a big smile on her face.

“y-yeah. there’s something about the big brown eyes and long hair, i guess” you sigh, dreamily while Steve thinks hey, i’m a guy with brown eyes and a lot of hair.

“Ya know what, feel free to look around and we’ll take care of something real quick” Robin says and you wander off to the horror section.

“Call Eddie” She tells Steve.

“What? Why?”

“This is fate, Steve. She wants to rent the same movie Eddie just rented and she also happens to be, like, totally in love with him” She states and he rolls his eyes. “In love, Robin? She said he was cute because he has eyes and hair.”

“Aw, you’re jealous.” she teases. “Well, kinda. I wanted to ask her out and I haven’t had any luck in months with anyone.” Steve whines

“Think about it. Do you really wanna ask a girl out who’s into one of your closest friends? That’s obviously a recipe for disaster, so call him” Robin says and Steve groans. He hates when she’s right, but he picks up the phone and dials anyway.

“Hey, munson. Have you watched Nightmare on Elm Street yet?”

“I got it yesterday, Steve, what’s the rush?”

“There’s a pretty girl here who wants to rent it”

“And what do I have to do with that?” Eddie asks, thinking Steve is just trying to use his ‘position of power’ (Steve’s words, literally no one else's) to try and impress any cute girl that walks through the door.

“Well, somehow the universe keeps finding ways to laugh at me because when I told her my friend Eddie has it she said you were cute or something” you can overhear Steve and you could die of embarrassment. You had flashbacks to middle school when your best friend told your crush that you liked him and he made fun of you for the rest of the school year.

“I am cute, Harrington and you know it. Who is she?”

Steve tells him your name and Eddie's heart practically stops for a second. He can’t believe the pretty girl he’s had a crush on for years thinks he’s cute.

“I’ll be right there” Eddie says before hanging up and sprinting out the door with Nightmare on Elm Street in hand.

“Welcome to Fam- Oh, it’s just you. She’s in the horror section” Steve grumbles when Eddie walks in. “Why do you have that look on your face?” Eddie asks Robin. Her eyes are big, smile even bigger with a hint of her ‘I just came up with a master plan’ look. “No reason, just go find your girl”

Eddie strolls over to find you and you look as gorgeous as always. You’re wearing a dress that stops halfway down your thighs, leaving your beautiful legs exposed, your lips shimmer from the gloss you put on, and you have an adorable look of concentration on your face as you look through the movie selection.

“Hey, you must be the pretty girl who’s just dying to watch this movie” He finally speaks up after admiring you. You turn to him and smile “you brought this back for me? you didn’t have to do that. did you at least get a chance to watch it?” You walk closer to him and the smell of your perfume makes him crazy. Everything about you just gets better and better.

“No, but it’s alright. I saw it in theaters, so it’s no biggie”

“Now I feel bad. You obviously wanted to watch it again and i’m only renting it because I’m like the only person who hasn’t seen it yet”

“You haven’t seen this masterpiece yet? It came out four years ago” he gasps and holds up the movie, making you giggle. Music to his ears.“I know. I’m lame”

There’s a beat of silence and if anyone were to look at Eddie, they could practically see the wheels turning in his head. For years, he’s been trying to find a way to work up the courage to just talk to you and now it feels like he’s been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Maybe we could watch it together” he suggests and feels like he’s stopped breathing until you give him an answer. You look up at him with your captivating eyes and nervously fiddle with your hands. “Yeah, I’d really like that” you respond and Eddie feels like he could do ten cartwheels right here in the middle of the isle. Little does he know you feel the same way.

“Yeah? Are you free tonight around eight?’’ He asks and you nod. “Can I get your address?”

Luckily, you had a scrap piece of paper and a pen in your purse and you write down his address with shaky hands due to the nerves from being asked on by the guy you’ve been hopelessly pining after for years.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?” He asks as you both walk over to the door. Steve and Robin are watching you both like hawks, but quickly act like they are working when Eddie shoots them a glare.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” you promise and he flashes his million dollar smile. “Me too. I mean, of course I will, it’s my house so why wouldn’t I be there, um, anyways I’m gonna go before I say something stupid again” He chuckles, nervously.

“I should go too. Thank you for bringing that movie back” You touch his arm in appreciation and his head spins at the feeling of your touch. “No problem. Plus, this movie might be too scary for you to watch alone”

“Yeah? Are you gonna protect me?’’ you step closer to him, hand still on his arm.

“With my life, sweetheart”

Ten minutes before eight, you park outside of Eddie’s trailer. You couldn’t believe this was finally happening after wanting this for as long as you can remember.

You had transferred to Hawkins High your junior year, which was Eddie’s first senior year and you’d been smitten since. On your first day, he had one of his infamous outbursts in the cafeteria, and while everyone else was mortified, you couldn’t help but be intrigued at his passion. He was always loud and never let anyone’s opinions of him change who he was. It was admirable

The two of you never had many interactions besides when you’d let him borrow a pen in science class. You were always too afraid to ever say anything to him about the way you felt, and when you graduated while he stayed behind, you’d thought your chance had passed you by. Now, three years after you graduated, you’re standing outside his front door about to watch a movie with him. Life is funny like that.

“Hey- fuck, you look good” Eddie’s words slip out before he can process that he said it out loud and you chuckle “Really? I just threw on some comfy clothes, but thank you”

“You always look good. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode” He bows and motions for you to come inside. You look around once you're inside, taking in your surroundings. You’re in Eddie Munson’s living room and you know it’s silly, but it feels like things are finally falling into place.

“Make yourself at home, I’m gonna get the popcorn. Do you want anything to drink? I got some coke it you want one”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you answer as you sit on the couch. He puts the popcorn in a bowl and pours you both a drink. You take note of the Garfield mug he’s put his drink in and you smile at how adorable he is.

“Lights on or off?” he asks after he puts the movie in. “Off, obviously. Gotta have the whole experience, right” He nods in agreement, turning off all the lights until the tv is the only illuminations. When he sits on the couch, he sits right next to you leaving no space and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Eddie’s confidence seems to grow in the dark. He does that cheesy thing where he pretends to yawn and stretch so he can put his arm around you. It’s cliche, but it makes both of you smile, nonetheless.

As you sense a jumpscare approaching, you nestle closer to his side and hide your face in his neck. He can feel your breath fanning on his skin and he can’t seem to think straight. When you hear a scream from the television, you jump a little and he chuckles. “This coming from the girl who wanted to turn the lights off” he jokes

“Hey, don’t make fun of me. I was promised protection and that’s supposed to come without torment” You move your head to look at him and when he looks back at you, your faces are so close together your noses are almost touching. You’re about to put your lips on his until another scream comes from the movie, causing you to jump again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks in a whisper. “yeah, anything” you move to position yourself more comfortably, but still close to him.

“I’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you since high school” he confesses and your eyes widen in surprise. “you have not”

“Cross my heart. You were the only person to smile at me when I’d pass you in the halls. You weren’t afraid of me like everyone else.”

“Why would I be afraid of you? You’ve always seemed like a teddy bear wrapped in leather to me.” You think it sounds too cheesy when you hear it out loud, but Eddie thinks it makes you even sweeter.

“Teddy bear, huh? I didn’t work this hard for my bad boy image to be compared to a stuffed animal” he jokes. “Bad boy image?” you scoff “You’re drinking out of a garfield mug”

“Alright, you got me there, but Garfield is a total badass”

“If you say so. Can I tell you something now?” you ask and he lets out an mhmm before you continue. “I’ve had a crush on you since highschool, too.”

“No shit? I mean Steve told me you thought I was cute but I thought he was just fucking with me” Eddie seems to be playing it cool at your confession, but he’s screaming on the inside.

“It was my first day at Hawkins and you were hard to not take notice of after one your cafeteria spiels. I remember everyone thinking you were obnoxious or a freak, but I was just enamored with you.”

“You never thought I was some satanist sacrificing children? I think you were the only one” he huffs out a laugh. Eddie’s life has been easier since high school. He still gets some weird looks every now and then, but things have calmed down. Although he always put on a brave face, some of those days were harder than others. It’s nice to know that you never thought he could be capable of doing those things he was accused of.

“I always felt guilty that I never stood up for you. I hated watching them berate you and what I hated even more is that I was too scared to ever say anything to them” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid eye contact.

“Don’t feel guilty about that. They wouldn’t have stopped anyways” he places his hand on your thigh and you turn your head to look at him. He has a look of appreciation in his eyes, like he’s trying to let you know that you didn’t need to say anything to those assholes. Just you being thoughtful for him is enough.

“I even left a note in your locker one day. It was when one of those idiots tore pages out of your campaign notebook and I guess I just wanted you to know that there was someone on your side”

“That was you? It’s been driving me crazy for years trying to figure out who that was!”

“you got it?” your eyes light up.

“I did. Still have it, too. This is probably embarrassing, but I’d read it whenever I had a bad day. I guess I didn’t want anyone to know that anything ever got to me and that I was above it all” He sighs. Eddie likes that he can be vulnerable with you. He hardly ever opens up to anyone about anything, but there’s just something about you that makes him comfortable. He feels like he could tell you anything and you wouldn’t judge him for a second.

“Do you still have it? The note?” you ask and he scurries to his room to rummage through his nightstand where he keeps it.

“Closest thing I’ve ever gotten to a love letter” he says before handing you the piece of paper that reads:

Eddie,

Sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how they treat you. I think you’re awesome and I hope you think that too. This town is a little less shitty with you in it. Never change

P.s. you look really good with long hair please don’t cut it

You chuckle when you read the last line. “I can’t believe you kept it. I knew I was right when I called you a teddy bear. You’re secretly a big softie, huh?”

“The softest. But only for you, yeah?”

“So that crush on me you had in high school… do you still have it?”

“It never went away, but now it’s even bigger than some teenage puppy dog shit”

Everything around you seems to drown out. You’re too focused on how close Eddie’s face is to your own. His lips look so soft and pillowy, the perfect shade of pink. You scan over the rest of his face, entranced with his beauty. His eyes are even prettier up close. You could count his eyelashes with how little distance there is between the two of you and you think that one day you will.

Right now, the one thing you’ve wanted the most is quite literally staring you right in the face. Not a loud sound from the movie, or even if the end of the world was happening right outside could take you away from this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, hand coming up to cradle your face. “Please” you barely get out.

Eddie gently places his lips on yours and it feels like this weight you’d be carrying around had been lifted from your body. Nothing in your life has felt more right than this kiss.

You’re kissing Eddie Munson. The boy from the hallway that always gave you a kind smile and made you weak in the knees. The boy from your science class who never had a pen. The boy who you’ve wanted since you were 17. You always criticized yourself for never getting over what you thought was just a silly little crush, but it’s always been more than that. Every moment leading up to this has been worth it and you’d do it all over again if it meant you got to kiss him.

You instantly miss his lips on yours when he pulls away and you can barely stand it, so you pull him back in. This kiss is more intense. You melt when his tongue glides into your mouth and his hand moves to hold your waist. You both put all of your feelings and passion into this kiss. It’s pure electricity.

You wish you didn’t need oxygen to breathe. You wish you could live forever in this position, but unfortunately that isn’t the case, so you both slowly break apart but not without him giving you a few pecks before fully pulling back.

His pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed. His hair is a little messy due to you threading your hands through his soft curls. He’s never looked more beautiful.

“So, I know this was only our first time hanging out, but- uh- do you want to be my girlfriend?” he asks, nervously and you smile so big that it causes your eyes to wrinkle.

“I’d love to” you simply answer.

“Yeah? You wanna be mine?’’ he smiles as relief washes over him.

“I’ve always been yours”

Nightmare on Elm Street has been long forgotten. Eddie restarted it twice, but each time you both end up in deep conversation and he’s kissed you more times than you can count. Maybe one day you’ll watch it, but today isn’t that day. Not when you’re sitting next to the most kissable person on earth.

The End

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson on #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 months

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Buck & Eddie: “You don’t know me!” - 7x5

In 2x8, Buck told a woman, “You don’t even know me!” and according to the script for episode 5 in season 7, the title of it will be almost an exact match since it's "You don’t know me!” and it appears to be a callback to his comment.

Since it's possible some may not have watched 2x8 Buck Actually in a while, here’s a quick reminder of the conversation Buck had with Bobby. They were discussing TK and how Buck hooked up with her in a bar restroom but Buck told him that since he had finally let go of AC, he thought she had changed him 🙄. Then he proceeded to say he had only been single for like a day and he was back to basically being Buck 1.0. When they entered the gas station, Buck kept talking to Bobby about how he was thinking about calling TK but he didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing. While Hen was treating the woman robber victim, she overheard Buck talking and commented, “You are only after one thing. Jerk!”. Buck responded, “You don’t even know me!” and she replied, “You’re a man, I know enough!”

Why is this important?

It’s important because the theme of “You don’t know me” has been applied to Buck with regards to every hookup or so-called “relationship” he’s had with different women on the show. Let’s be real for a minute because the truth is none of them AC, AM, TK, ND, Dr. Wells nor the two women he hooked up with in season 1 knew him either. Also, the woman who made the comment was a random victim who overheard Buck talking for less than a minute and she thought she knew Buck just because he’s a man. It was implied that all men want to do is hookup and leave like he did with TK but Buck has been and continues to search for the love of his life. The conversation he had with her connects to the one he had with Eddie in 6x15 while they were standing in the cemetery.

Buck said, “I feel like I have to try and be the same old Buck… mostly for the sake of everyone else” and Eddie responded, “You don’t have to be anything for anybody”.

IMO, their comments were being made directly to the audience and they were for the people who, after six seasons still want to keep seeing Buck do the same thing over and over again (I know it’s hard to believe but trust and believe there are people in the GA and in the 9-1-1 fandom who want to keep Buck on the hamster wheel and I think it’s because they DON’T WANT HIM TO BE WITH EDDIE). These are the viewers who would rather he keep randomly hooking up with people (it could be anybody and it doesn’t matter if it’s irrational, nonsensical, illogical, random or whatever/whomever just as long as they can see him hookup with another guy or another random love interest) instead of him finally accepting the love that him and Eddie effortlessly share with one another. I’ve said this many times, Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, they’re soulmates (post linked here) and they share a once in a lifetime love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time. They have a deep, emotional and intimate connection that’s not superficial and it’s not based on a hookup. They have an EPIC love story that deserves to be told without any more distractions or the addition of one-dimensional love interests. It’s not platonic, it’s romantic and if they do go CANON, it will make for groundbreaking television.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

After the title for 7x5 was released a few weeks ago, I completed a post about how Connor really doesn’t know Buck the way he said he does in 6x4 (linked here) and I stand by everything I included in it. However, this post is in addition to that one and it includes the details about how all the women Buck dated didn’t know him either.

In 1x1, the first woman Buck was shown hooking up with in the firetruck told him to his face that she didn’t want to get to know him. He asked her for her number and she replied, “You’re cute and you’re very good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other.” She didn't want to get to know him and the look on his face showed he wanted more but she didn't so he moved on to the next one.

Dr. Wells was the LAFD’s trauma therapist and SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND Buck on Facebook before he ever entered her office. She knew the day would come when he would need therapy and when he asked her if she sent him a friend request, she told him he should delete it but then they ended up having sex. It was played off like a joke but that’s not what it was because she was in a position of power and as a licensed therapist, she should have been charged because it’s against the law for that to happen. IMO, since Buck didn't know any better, as his captain, Bobby should have reported her. She wasn't mentioned again until 3x9 when Buck, Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were sitting in the loft at the firehouse and all Bobby said was "She's no longer with the department". That wasn't enough and she took advantage of him. Trust and believe the situation would have ended differently if the roles had been reversed.

AC wasn’t any different because after Buck stood by her and helped her after her mom died, he was being catfished by a man and several women were after him because of that guy's lies. After a woman threw a drink in his face, he said to her, “You know me right? Come on” and she replied, “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely don’t feel like I know who you are right now.” She ended up ghosting him and abandoning him while he waited for her for months.

When she returned two years later, she didn't even apologize to him.

AM didn’t know Buck either and don’t get sidetracked by the fact that she called him Evan sometimes. It was proven she didn’t know who he is when she said, “I know it’s who you are” after he said, “You want me to quit my job”. Well, being a firefighter is NOT who Buck is, it’s what he does but she clearly saw him as a hot firefighter just like AC did and was looking for a good time. Please remember she didn't have a problem leaving him because of it.

TK didn’t know Buck at all and for everyone who thinks just because they were having sex and living together, that doesn’t mean anything because after meeting four years earlier, TK still had no idea who Buck was before it was over and she didn’t care. If she had known him then she wouldn’t have betrayed his trust. Also, he did cheat on her which made the situation worse but neither of them wanted to admit they weren’t supposed to be together and they clung instead of just ending it. When he got ready to break up with her, she didn't try to see his side of it, she just stuck to her immoral ideals and wanted him to be ok with her running with the Jonah story. Instead of saying, “I understand and I apologize” she said, “You knew who I was when we started dating” and he replied, “I guess I thought I could learn to live with it”. She made it all about her the same way Buck makes everything about himself. They were two self-centered people with tragic childhoods in a trainwreck relationship and it shouldn’t have ever happened. It's still interesting that Buck ended up in a relationship with her after everything she did to Bobby and the 118 four years earlier (related post linked here and here).

ND fangirled over Buck and was so enthralled by his death but when she found out he had a full life, she did judge him. He said, “I know this is something that’s easy to judge” but even though she said that him being a sperm donor was a kind gesture or whatever, she left because she couldn't handle his full life. Granted she was a death doula but her actions weren't professional and it would have been better if she would have helped him deal with his death. Her return should have ended with Buck saying "No thanks" and sending her on her way but of course he was shoved into another lackluster one dimensional relationship. Also, them telling each other, “I like you” was very high school like🙄.

Please understand, I don't like TK but in 4x8 she said, "You just can't stand the idea of someone not liking you" and she was right. Buck works hard to make people like him and it's very reminiscent of the way he's been trying to get his parents to love him anyway. He needs therapy.

It seems like he's still doing it and the words Bobby spoke in 6x11 during his coma dream had no effect since he still cares about how people see him. He hasn't learned anything yet but hopefully he will in season 7.

Eddie Diaz is the ONLY person on the show who KNOWS and SEES Buck and the video above includes several snippets from different episodes to prove it.

Eddie knows him at his core. He knows when to call him on his BS, he recognizes when Buck makes things about himself and he knows when he's trying to fix things instead of understanding it's not always his job to fix them.

Maddie is Buck's sister but she still sees Evan (post linked here) her little brother but Eddie knows Buck and after they become a CANON couple, he’ll know Buck even more.

While I’m not sure who’s going to say, “You don’t know me” in 7x5 or if it will be said at all, I do believe Buck might say it again and if he does, it will be a callback to 2x8. Also, 6x15 could be included in it since Buck might not be trying to be the "same old Buck" anymore and hopefully it will be enough for the naysayers to understand he's not the same person. IMO, I still think it’s something he will say to Connor especially since the sperm donor arc is supposed to return and OS said in an interview it won’t be revisited before the first 5 episodes. Hopefully, Buck will finally realize the people he thought knew him really don’t including Connor.

Is it possible Eddie could say it to M, maybe but I don’t know because IMO that doesn’t sound like something he would say to anyone. But he is all therapized now and he’s supposed to be joking or whatever this season so who knows.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Buck said, “You don’t even know me” in 2x8 and apparently, it’s going to be a callback in 7x5 but the question is, if he does say it, who’s he going to say it to? 👀

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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Hi :)) you have no idea how much I enjoy your EMTTS it's literally my only motivation to get anything done when I see an update haha and your writing is so good?! And it's so wholesome?! How dare you make me feel happy things :((

Anywhoo, I was wondering if there'd ever be a moment where Eddie does an interview about fan conspiracy theories or read thirst tweets and what that would look like (I'm kind of getting hard core dylan o'brien vibes here where he's like "these are tame") maybe he's filming a tiktok in a break and he slowly pans around to Steve where he just looks so uncomfortable because !?? That's his husband?! People want him to step on them!?

Concerned and unaware Steve is all I'm saying

But literally you are insane I love what you've created it's so adorable!!

WHY HAVE I NEVER CONSIDERED THIRST TWEETS???!

Thirst tweets are such an obvious next step for him. Of course, someone would ask him to do it and obviously, he’d agree. I do think that Steve would be less uncomfortable with the concept but maybe a little jealous, a little possessive of his husband. Maybe keep your thoughts and your tweets off his hot ass husband, okay?

Eddie is taken.

The video actually starts with a little behind the scenes when Eddie is being mic’ed up. He’s talking to someone off camera but you can only hear his side of the conversation. He asks who he’s talking to if they know what thirst tweets are and then after they respond says, “They’re tweets about how people are desperate for me. For a drink of me, if you know what I mean… Not piss! Actually. Maybe piss. I’ve got some kinky fans.”

There’s a transition with a clapperboard and then Eddie is starting the video proper like, “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. I play guitar in the heavy metal band, Corroded Coffin, and I’m on Tiktok. I’m gonna be reading some of your thirst tweets today.”

There are some tweets about wanting Eddie to step on them or blow their back out, or spit in their mouth. Someone tweets that they want Eddie to blow them like JFK’s head on a sunny afternoon drive which, “Admittedly, that one is really funny. These are a lot tamer than I was expecting.”

It’s not actually Eddie that posts the Tiktok that reveals that Steve is there too. It’s someone who works on the set and they’re technically just posting a video about the problem with the camera that halted production and how to fix it.

Eddie and Steve are just on the monitor so you can see them and you can kinda hear them. Eddie is teasing Steve about being jealous over some tweets from people they’ll never meet and Steve is pointing out that Eddie could actually meet them at one of his concerts.

Eddie is sitting on top of the table and Steve had been a few steps away from him until Eddie reached out and yanked him over to him by the waistband of his jeans. He smiles up at Steve and says, “Babygirl, you know you’re the only one for me.”

“Don’t call me that,” Steve said weakly, “In public.”

“Tell me you don’t believe me.”

“…I believe you,” Steve tells him, tilting Eddie’s head back further and leaning down to kiss him. “I believe you always.”

Eddie kisses him back and then asks, “Wanna go find somewhere and make out like teenagers?”

When they get the camera operating again, the first tweet Eddie reads is about someone wanting to be the middle of a Steddie sandwich, “Hot damn.”

Side Note: Eddie also does the one interview where you show them what’s in your bag. He has notebooks, pens, dice, his ADHD medication, Steve’s medications since they’re traveling together, a comb, a book, a toothbrush, and a charger. What he doesn’t have is his inhaler which - “Nope, not in my pocket either. Steve?”

#Petty jealous Steve is actually is very personal to me #he knows these tweets mean nothing but back off #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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harrywavycurly · 8 months

Note

Do you think Eddie would tell Wayne about reader wanting a double date?? How would that go?👀 I know Wayne would knock some sense into him!😂❤️

Hiii lovey!!! So I wasn’t sure if I was gonna actually post this or not but I’m in a really good mood so I’m gonna give y’all this (sorry it’s at a random ass time lol) so I hope y’all enjoy💖

-find all things Trouble Next Door here✨

*also idk if it’s just me but this lowkey might make you sad? I hope not though!*

“She wants to do what now?” “A double date…she thinks it’ll help us move on or something.” “Move on? From…Chrissy and Steve or…” “please don’t start Wayne.” “Sorry…so what are you gonna do?” “Since when have I ever told her no? She seems really set on the idea…been talking about it for the last day or two.” “Who is she thinking of asking on this date?” “No fucking clue…she hasn’t mentioned anyone for her or for me.” “You’re letting her pick who you go on a date with? Damn son…you’ve really got it bad huh?” “I just want her to be happy…that’s all I’ve always wanted for her…really thought Steve was gonna be it for her…fucking asshole.” “But what about you? What’s gonna make you happy Eddie?” “Being in her life..anyway I can.” “How long has it been?” “How long has it been since…what?” “How long have you been in love with her?” “Oh uhm…I uh…I don’t know?” “You don’t know? So it’s been that long then?” “I know there was this moment when I turned sixteen and just got the van…I remember picking her up and just driving around because I was just so excited to be driving on my own and wanted to take her somewhere…I rolled the windows down and had the music up loud and she…she looked over at me with this huge grin on her face and her hair was blowing everywhere and…and I remember wondering if her eyes always had that sort of glow to them when she smiled…and if her laugh always sounded like a melody to a song that I could listen to over and over again…I almost ran a stop sign because I just…couldn’t look away from her.” “Eddie…” “I love her…so fucking much and…and I just want her to be happy Wayne…I need her to be happy.” “What if you’re the one that’ll make her happy? She deserves to know how you’ve been feeling son.” “It’s pointless…She told me she loved Steve more than she loved me.” “Well he was her husband…and she doesn’t know how you feel so maybe she just hasn’t had her moment like you did in the van at sixteen yet…because maybe she doesn’t want to risk loosing you? Have you thought about that?” “I don’t know…” “you deserve to be happy just as much as she does…I think you owe it to yourself to get your feelings out there in the open before you have to watch her be with someone else who we both know won’t be good enough.” “What if she doesn’t feel the same?” “What if she does?…we both know either way you’re gonna cry so might as well just rip the bandaid off and see what happens.” “I hate to say it…but you’re right…” “damn straight I am…now come on…coffees getting cold.”

#trouble next door convos #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie and wayne munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #wayne munson #my little dungeon master baby

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Text

Begin Again: Chapter Two

Summary: The year is 1988. After the loss of a beloved family member, you find yourself inheriting an old coffee shop. The quiet bartender at the Hideout across the street just so happens to catch your eye.

(18k+ words; eddie munson x afab!reader; sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes)

Warnings: Vignette style (sorta); Eddie’s post S4 trauma; panic attacks; nightmares; family member loss; grief; alcohol use; mild smut in later chapters so 18+; additional warnings to be added.

(AO3 Link) || Master List || PREVIOUS CH | NEXT CHAPTER

Summer, 1988

Before long, spring bleeds into a balmy summer and the Fourth of July inches closer.

While spring brought along with it new opportunities, new friendships, and new beginnings, you’re excited for warmer weather.

Excited for colorful dresses, walks around the town, smelling the freshly cut bouquets at the florist next door, ice cream cones that melt between your fingers, and watching the sunset from your apartment windows.

You wake with the sunrise on the third, spine cracking as you lift your arms up over your head to stretch the soreness from your limbs.

Your alarm clock blares bright neon in the early morning sunrise, reading 4:30 where it rests on the pile of books you placed next to your bed as a makeshift side table until you can purchase new furniture and really spruce up the apartment.

With a sigh, you slap a hand along the alarm clock and start your day. You tug on a pair of jeans, don a summery top with flowy sleeves, and drape your apron over your hips. The lights flicker on in the shop and the place illuminates, ready for a new day.

You prep the coffee pots and turn on all the machines. Croissants are prepared and placed in the oven, along with various other treats, and you wipe down the surfaces of each table accordingly.

The sign hanging in the window flips from ‘closed’ to ‘open’ and you assume your routine.

Every day just like the one that came before.

But there’s a comfort in it. An ease in which you live your new life here in Hawkins.

It’s familiar and it’s constant, with little diversion.

That is, until the girls start their shifts and probe you about plans for the weekend. Apparently one of their friends is planning on hosting a barbecue for the holiday with a small group of their closest companions.

And it seems they’ve invited you.

Max crosses her arms over her chest, one of her braids dancing over her shoulder as she does so. “You never get out of the shop.”

“Because I own the shop,” you remind her.

El hands a cup of coffee to a customer and glances over to where you and Max are presently cleaning up a coffee spill.

“It’s a holiday, just come ,” Max says.

“I don’t even know your friend!” The exasperation in your tone rises, the mop in your hand trailing more water along the floor.

“He’s your age, so is Robin, and we’ll be there. What’s more to know?” Max reaches down to lay a few towels onto the mess you’ve made, adding, “Plus, they are customers. I’m sure you’ve actually met them before.”

You're considering it. You’re actually considering going. “And he’s going to be just fine with me coming over to his place?”

Max nods. “His parents are never home, so we basically have the whole place to ourselves for the day. Just come.”

“Please…come,” El says, slipping out from behind the counter. “You’ll make friends. Actual friends.”

Your brow arches at that one. “As opposed to?” El slinks backward, giving you a tight smile.

“Your customers are not your friends,” Max says. “Well, they are. But these could be real ones. Come on. You’ve been in Hawkins for months and I don’t think I’ve seen you go anywhere even once.”

“I go places!” you reply hotly, your skin burning aflame in embarrassment.

The Hideout, but they don’t know about it.

“Okay, fine, so I don’t go places. I spend my afternoons in my apartment.”

“So you’ll come?” Both girls look at you expectantly.

“Fine!”

Three months.

Maybe more. He can’t remember the number anymore.

The amount of time that has passed since you moved into town and effectively uprooted his life.

His normalcy.

Before that, it’s been easy to keep people at arms length—to stay far enough away that they don’t ask questions.

Most people do tend to stay far away.

No one wants to be associated with the Freak, the murderer, the man who made a deal with the devil.

It didn’t matter then when they abolished his name from the news and he was cleared as a free man, and it certainly doesn’t matter now; people still look at him with disdain, whisper when he passes, step away from him when he gets too close in the supermarket.

He knows, though, there’s something about you that draws him to you.

Magnetic, you’re magnetic. That’s what it is, this feeling, this tug.

He hasn’t felt that way in a long time. This pull to another human outside of his core group (The Party), this desire to want to open up.

It’s coupled with fear but the urge is there.

It hasn’t been in a long, long time.

Before that, it’s two years.

Two years since the events of the Upside Down.

Two years since Chrissy died in his damn trailer home. Two years since he watched her bones break like twigs against his ceiling. Two years since he found out monsters lurked beneath Hawkins.

Two years since he watched Max fear for her life every day before that day. Two years since he became forever bound to The Party.

It’s been two years since he heard Dustin’s screams rattle his bones as he cut that rope.

Two years since he felt the first rip of his own flesh as those mouths full of teeth cut into his skin. Two years since he felt them attack from every angle. Two years since he laid there in hell on earth and pleaded that he’d just die.

Two years since he felt that blinding, agonizing pain as he shook in Dustin’s arms, taking what he thought were his last breaths.

Two years since he said goodbye.

Two years since he thought he had died.

Two years since he wished he had.

Two years since he woke up in that damn bed, and was poked and prodded by an endless team of doctors with wires sticking out every which way from his body. Since they tried to salvage what they could of his shredded skin.

It’s been two years, but when he closes his eyes…it’s as if it’s only been two minutes.

It’s why he doesn’t let anyone close.

The last time he did so, it set into motion the week that changed everything.

You’re not sure what to expect as you get out of your car. But what you definitely don’t expect is the large expanse of property and the gorgeous home that stands there surrounded by endless green lawn on that bright summer day.

It looms in front of you, intimidating in nature, and not only due to the size. On the patio outside is a group of people awaiting your arrival, a group of which you haven’t met all of.

Tray of cookies in hand, you start the slow shuffle to the side entrance where Max and El told you you were to enter by. Luckily, the fence already sits open, and the sound of chatter immediately greets your ears, mixing in with the sound of the radio spilling from a speaker and someone jumping into the pool.

You can smell the food cooking before you see it on the grill. Steve Harrington stands in the distance waving a spatula around as he talks. You recognize Robin next, with her short hair and glowing smile. The girls are in the pool with Will, Mike, Dustin and Lucas. You know the latter portion of the group that is not currently employed by you because they frequently spent time at Sunshine Coffee, trying to get a glimpse of their friends while doing homework together.

The most surprising, however, of all the guests at the barbecue is none other than Eddie Munson.

He sits in a lounge chair nearest to the pool, a cigarette between his lips, his bare arms on display for the first time ever , with his hair back in another one of his low hanging ponytails. You notice first the dark ink sprawling along his arms. Some newer than the others, judging by what you know of tattoos. Your eyes catch on the scar you can still see on his left bicep, like a little sun on his skin mixed in with a swirling array of black and gray that shifts and moves as he does. Seemingly aware of the kids now waving to you in earnest, he shifts his head over his shoulder, and though his gaze is obstructed by sunglasses, you can tell he’s surprised you're there.

I’m surprised too, you think, suddenly uncertain of where to stand, what to do, what to say. You fidget on the spot with a hand curling in your dress, tempering the urge to flee. It’s what you might normally do in a moment like this, what you’ve done long before moving to Hawkins was ever set into motion.

There isn’t much time to think, however, before Robin’s rushing over to your side and offering to help you with your things. She’s kind and pleasant—surprisingly so. She even goes so far as to give you a tour around the Harrington home, making you aware of where you can use the bathroom, get a new drink from the fridge, or a snack from the pantry. Not that you’ll need it with all the food cooking, but you’re appreciative all the same.

Once back outside, Steve greets you shockingly enough with a warm hug. Says he’s happy you finally showed up, as though he’s been waiting all day, and tells you food will be done in a few minutes.

It gives you a moment to get accustomed to your surroundings. Robin remains the perfect host at your side, prattling on about what she’s doing for college. She’s heavily intent on becoming a music teacher, and studying at the local community college. When she asks if you’ve ever thought about schooling, you mutter that you’ve never really thought to try.

Going to college meant staying in one place for a long period of time, and thus it’s never been a thought in your mind. Maybe in another life, another time, when you felt like you were ready to settle.

But now…no.

Now you’re content with your coffee shop, with training up the girls to do all the tasks you need to keep it afloat, and deciding how you feel about Hawkins later down the line.

She pulls you along beside her to plop down in the lounge chair across from Eddie, her foot kicking against Eddie’s ankle to draw his attention.

“You’ve met Eddie, haven’t you?” Robin asks, and your eyes shift to his face. It’s hard to see what he’s thinking behind those sunglasses, a mask settled across his features.

“We’ve met,” Eddie says softly, tipping his head down towards you.

“Hi, Eddie.” You wave his way and Robin glances between the two of you awkwardly, hands on her knees.

“Well, there’s the pool obviously, Steve has karaoke for later if we want to do any, you know where the snacks and drinks are, and, uh, food will be ready soon,” she announces, standing tall to her feet. “I’ll leave you both to it, then! Enjoy!”

It’s…well, it’s silent. And though that’s not entirely unusual for Eddie, it’s still striking to you at the moment. His arms rest on either rest, body slouching into the chair.

“You took the day off?” You practically wince at the small talk, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind in the endless silence that settles between you.

“Was going to work, but Steve is big on his family get-togethers,” he tells you, taking a sip of his beer.

So the fact you’re here makes your heart warm.

“I…uhm, I’m glad you’re here,” you say, turning your head slightly to catch his profile. He’s looking out into the pool, mouth a thin line. You let out a slow breath. “I didn’t know you’d be here, but it’s always nice to see you.”

He’s quiet. So quiet.

You get the impression the sentiment isn’t returned.

You try to not let it sour your mood. “Well, uh, I’m going to see if Robin needs any help. Want me to grab you anything?” You rise to your feet, hands swiping along your dress. “A water? Beer?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” he says, and you catch the faintest curl of his lips.

Okay then , you think, and march off.

You show up to the party in a summer dress.

Of course you do.

It’s yellow with all these little flowers all over it. Bright, just like the summer day.

Suiting for you.

You, who quite literally radiates the sun, even on the gloomiest of days.

He remembers the night you slipped into the bar and tried to pretend no one saw you—that he never saw you.

Even water logged as you were, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen anyone so pretty.

People notice it. They’d be foolish not to. Whirl around in their seats and look your way, trying to catch a glimpse of the girl with sunshine in her heart.

But since you’ve met, all the times he’s been around you have been on his terms, and now you’re in the middle of Steve’s patio with a beer in hand and your head tipped back in a laugh as Robin tells you a lively story.

“You invited her?” Eddie asks, turning his head to Steve.

“Actually Max invited her. And El,” Steve explains, spatula swirling wildly as he speaks. “She seems nice. We’ve gone to the shop a bunch. Robs and I. But she’s always so busy. This is the first time we’ve really gotten to really meet her. Why? You got a personal vendetta against baristas I should know about?”

Quite the opposite, he thinks, but he’ll never admit that to Steve.

They immediately love you.

Of course they do; how could they not?

You match their golden retriever energy, bodies swaying—and surprisingly so, since none of you are even tipsy—as Steve sings (incredibly off key) along to “Super Trouper,” and you and Robin try to steal the microphone every couple words. All in all, it’s a stunning display of a lack of singing talent, but the kids are loving it, and Eddie hates it because it’s like a punch to the gut.

It’s been this way since you arrived. Your endless charisma, that light that seeps from you, the way you flit in and out of conversations with everyone at the party.

Everyone except him .

That’s his fault, he recognizes. He’s not really made it an effort to pull you aside, offering nothing more than little comments here and there.

He can see it on your face. The way you recognize he’s distancing himself on purpose.

It’s easier when you’re at the bar.

There, you’re quiet. You’re unassuming. You talk between the two of you, sure, but it’s on his terms. Here, you’ve injected yourself into his world—into this group that he trusts with all the parts of himself that have changed since what happened two years ago.

They’re a safety net. They’re the only people he feels like he can still be himself around, and you’ve breached that, you’ve entered in and made yourself a home.

They love you, and they should , but it’s another reminder of the fact the last time he let someone close to him they died in his home. The last time he let someone get close to him, the kids were in danger, Dustin got hurt, Max almost lost her life because of Carver interrupting their plan, Robin, Steve and Nancy almost died.

He can’t let another person get hurt from knowing him.

He can’t let you get hurt from knowing him.

He’d never forgive himself.

It’s sometime later that you end up sitting with your dress hiked up a bit on your thighs and your feet in the pool as the kids talk around you. The sun has set in Hawkins and the sound of crickets and cicadas blends into the gentle hum of music spilling from the radio.

Robin appears with Steve, her chin coming to hook over Eddie’s shoulder and smacks a kiss to his cheek. “Can we keep her?” Eddie groans as she shakes his shoulders, trying to get a rise out of him, and stands at Steve’s side.

“She’s not a pet, Robin.” He tries to keep his tone neutral. Unaffected.

“You like her,” she points out, grin turning wide and wicked.

He shakes his head, earning a look from Steve. “Don’t even start with that. I’m not hearing it.”

She’s practically bouncing in front of him. “But it’s true. I can see it. You can't keep your eyes off of her. She’s beautiful, though, so totally understandable. How did it happen? When did it start?”

“Rob,” he warns, feeling his chest tighten.

“Eddie, this is good . It’s really good ,” Steve says. Robin nods enthusiastically beside him.

“And why is that?” He challenges with a narrow stare, standing to his feet.

“You looked happy today. We can excuse this moment of assholery and chalk it up to your denial speaking, but she makes you smile. I haven’t seen you smile like that in ages,” Robin says, voice high and right with emotion.

He knows she wants the best for him, knows she wants to see him happy , but he has the guys from Corroded Coffin, he has Uncle Wayne, he has the kids, he has her and he has Steve, and that makes him happy.

“It could be gas.” His reply is deadpan, sunglasses obscuring the crinkle around the corner of his eyes at the look on Robin’s face that says ‘shut up, asshole.’

“Eddie,” she warns, arching a brow up at him.

“I'm serious. Steve’s cooking can be questionable.”

“I'm going to choose to ignore that. My cooking is fine,” Steve argues, cheeks aflame.

“So how long has this been going on?” Robin’s relentless. He supposes he should know this about her by now, but it makes his head spin all the same.

“There is no this because all this is is that I’m her customer and she visits the bar sometimes and we talk.”

“She visits you at your job and you visit her at hers—that sounds like interest,” Steve says, a little too pleased with himself.

“Mutual interest,” Robin agrees, beaming so bright she mirrors the summer sun.

“Look, I’m not even going to venture there because it’s only a matter of time before she figures out why you guys are the only ones left in Hawkins who don't run away at the sight of me. I’d rather not be there when she puts two and two together and hates me anyway.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, fingers at the bridge of his nose to pinch there. “So I’ll keep her at a distance and remind myself that I think she’s annoying as all hell most days—”

Because he doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that stir otherwise. So now it’s push them down, tuck them away, sweep them under the rug.

The sound of your ankle banging against the side of a lounger greets his ears, and his head jerks your way. Steve and Robin’s looks of amusement drop into sorrow as your eyes flash between them and him, disappointment clear on your features. He catches the way your bottom lip wobbles, how your eyes widen, shoulders dropping. There’s a small “oh” that spills from your lips, as if you’re only realizing now you have stumbled in a conversation you were never meant to hear in the first place, but he can sense your embarrassment all the same.

You deflate, and Eddie proves himself right once again why it’s futile to get close, because he catches those first glittering tears on your bottom lashes, unshed now, but there all the same.

And he knows you heard him.

Let someone close… hurt them. Just as he predicted.

“I, uh, was just going to say goodbye. I have to wake up early to set up the shop.” You step forward to hug Steve and Robin. He doesn’t expect you to come close to him, but it stings all the same when you simply glance away and mutter, “Goodbye, Eddie,” before slipping away, and out of the yard.

Steve watches him as you go, eyes scouring every inch of his face, head shaking lightly. “Aren’t you going to, oh I don’t know, follow her? Make sure she’s okay? Come on, man.”

“She said goodbye,” he says, catching your fingers struggling with your door handle in your haste to leave.

“Go,” Steve reiterates, and Eddie grumbles his way across the lawn, catching your door just as you’re about to close it.

There’s a little huff that spills from your lips and there’s a part of him that has to temper down the thrill that jolts in his chest at the way your eyes narrow up at him expectantly.

You’re always challenging him.

Even now there’s a protest in your stare—on your tongue.

But you focus your eyes ahead instead and lift your chin, trying to conceal the hurt swirling behind your eyes.

Asshole, asshole, asshole.

“I have to go,” you remind him.

“I’ll, uh…I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and he shuts the driver's side door.

And as he walks back to his group of friends, he scolds himself the whole way, because the best thing he could come up with in a moment of stupidity was say ‘I’ll see you around, okay?’

Eddie doesn’t come by for five days, and you don’t visit the Hideout for just as long.

It’s not that you’re angry at him. No—the initial hurt is long gone. Now you’re left with this bitter emptiness. A feeling of questioning, as if every truth you had thought you’d know to be a certainty was really a lie all along.

For weeks you were led to believe whatever this thing was growing between you and him had been real. This tangibility you could tend to, could nurture.

Yet at the first sign of struggle, he ran away. Pushed you aside without a second thought. Said those hurtful things at the party.

He’d run after you, sure, but only after he registered your pain.

Only after his friends looked at him like he’d absolutely lost his mind.

You want to believe that there’s more to the story, that there’s a reason why he said what he said and did what he did.

But the worst part of it all, the part that twists the knife deeper in your chest, is the thought that maybe there isn’t, and maybe you trusted him too fast. Dove headlong into a dead end friendship with the one person in town you felt most free to be yourself around.

That part hurts the most.

Eddie feels like an idiot.

You are an idiot, he tells himself as he stands in that flower shop near Sunshine Coffee , asking the owners for some sort of arrangement that speaks to an apology of sorts.

“What kind of an apology?” the husband asks, looking over at Eddie wearily. His wife stands in the back, watering the flowers about the room.

They must know you’re upset with him, and for good reason, too. It’s normal that he frequents the shop, but for the past few days he’s stayed away, not wanting to see that look of hurt across your features ever again. It’s bad enough that when he closes his eyes he can picture it.

How your foot tripped over the edge of the lounger, the way your words tumbled from your lips, your skirt rustling about your ankles as you sped away…and sped away from him.

Steve caught up with him the next day over the phone, trying to talk more sense into him. Trying to tell him there’s nothing wrong with opening up to a new friend, especially when that person was trying to go at his pace, respecting his boundaries, and never pushing him further than he was willing to go.

You’ve always been patient, and friendship is a two way street, where equal participation is expected from both parties.

Steve reminds him that this is a good thing.

His government ordered therapist does, as well. Reminds him that part of healing is doing the uncomfortable things, stepping out of his comfort zone, coming out from the shadows he’s shrouded himself within.

He’s not meant to live in solitude.

“It’s for a…I was a total asshole who took advantage of your kindness, and I deserve your rage kind of apology,” he admits, and watches as the older man regards him carefully before thinking to himself quietly.

“You can do pink roses.”

“Aren’t roses for love?” he asks, wanting to be clear. He’s always seen them around Valentine’s Day when all the couples at Hawkins High wanted to be all mushy and show their undying devotion to one another. “I’m not trying to say I—I love her or anything. I barely know her.”

“Pink roses mean gratitude. Seeing as you took advantage of her kindness and hurt her, pink roses are a perfect way of showing that,” he explains, putting together an assortment on the countertop and tying it off with a ribbon on the front. “Do you want me to write her a card?”

“Can I…take one to go?”

“Sure thing,” he says, ringing him up and sliding a blank card across the countertop. “And word of advice, boy: that girl is wonderful, so you better do better.”

I’m trying, he thinks, slipping out of the building.

And it starts with the little bouquet he has one of the girls deliver you later that day, with a little card affixed to the ribbon.

The words on the letter read: Fact of the day—Eddie Munson is a giant asshole.

Then beneath, in tinier lettering: Do you think you can forgive him, maybe?

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley are always a welcome sight within the walls of Sunshine Coffee. Even before the Fourth of July barbecue, you’ve particularly liked them. The two would come in, often bantering with one another, bright smiles on their faces.

It always spoke to a close bond between the two; you don’t know them well , but that kind of bond is clear and attests to being tried and tested in the fire, and only made them stronger for it.

You’re a little shocked to see them here now, however.

The last time they saw you, the three of you were happy and high off of life, cheeks warm from the summer sun, arms looped around each other's necks as you sang ABBA, smelling of suntan lotion and lips stained from cherry popsicles.

You glance over your shoulder to Will and ask him if he’s good to let you go on your lunch break, and he’s immediately nodding his reply. The three of you slip out into the street, sights set on the local ice cream parlor, because Robin reassures you ‘ice cream is the perfect lunch for a day like this.’

It’s sweltering out. Sweat slicks your skin, the back of your neck, your hands. That first swipe of your tongue along your chocolate and vanilla swirl has you humming in delight, sandaled feet kicking out beneath you.

“I’m actually so shocked to see you two,” you admit, just as Robin sticks her spoon into her cup.

“We told you there’s no getting rid of us now,” Robin says, and she’s right, but it makes you smile all the same.

Makes you warm, and it has little to do with the heat shining down from the sun above.

“I’m actually planning another get together,” Steve says, tongue already cherry red from his ice. “You’re invited, obviously.”

“Thanks, Steve.” You swipe your tongue along another line of rainbow sprinkles, glancing out into the street.

You can see the now-quiet Hideout. It won’t be busy for a couple hours now.

“So, uh, that’s actually kind of why we ambushed you at work,” Steve says, catching your wandering gaze.

“Hmm?” Your head snaps back their way, wrist lifting to your mouth to catch the ice cream sliding down the side of your cone.

“He really likes you, you know? We know he can make a fool of showing it, but he does,” Steve starts.

“Who?” You’re playing coy, hiding your nervousness behind your ice cream.

Robin’s quick to answer with, “Eddie…we just ask you to give him a second chance, okay? He’s been through a lot. And I’m sure we’re literally breaking a thousand rules of friendship right now by approaching you like this, but he’s already been so much happier since you’ve been here. You, like, challenge him and make him come out of the little shell he’s put himself into and it would really break my heart—both our hearts, really—if that stopped.”

“I planned on it,” you tell them sincerely. But you also know it has to be on his terms.

He’s already started with his apology, and now it’s just a matter of…waiting to see what happens.

You can’t force yourself onto someone who doesn’t want you to be prevalent in their lives. And yet, you respect his past; you understand that there are parts of him you’ve not privy to that his friends are, and the fact that they may reveal why he is the way he is at his core.

Knowing that, being made aware of that, is something you want to happen on its own time. In the right time, and by his discretion.

It’s his story to tell.

So the three of you stand to your feet and walk through the town, talking about the upcoming weekend, planning things for dinner and dessert. And you plan for the future with the sun at your backs, bright and vibrant smiles as bright as the beams that dance along your skin, with nothing but hope to guide you all.

He doesn’t come the next day. Nor does he come the day after. And soon it’s a week since you’ve seen him in the four walls of your coffee shop. Which surprises you, because he left that apology bouquet of flowers with El to give to you.

You can only imagine his dark figure hulking as he entered that little flower shop, filling the vibrant room with a streak of black and gray. It makes the corners of your mouth lift simply thinking of it—imagining him having to order the plants and write up his little note card.

If you beamed when you read his little fact of the day, you’d never admit it. But the girls certainly caught it, pointing and laughing at the way you lit up like a Christmas tree at the prospect of Eddie Munson getting you apology flowers.

It’s what they babble teasingly at you, at least. All wagging fingers and pouty lips over the fact he had gone out of his way to make a gesture as he had in hopes of getting back into your good graces.

Only, you’ve not seen him since.

You thought maybe he would come see you— talk in person about why the way he behaved like a proper imbecile that evening.

You’re sorely disappointed, and the sting of fresh rejection ripples and dances along your skin, cracks between your ribs and curls around your heart.

Max catches you one evening, hours before you’re set to close up for the day. Normally, it’s your job to make sure the shop closes up. You’ve always wanted to make sure the kids are ahead on their schoolwork anyway, but now with summer here, they’ve offered to stay later more often.

Extra pay, they remind you.

Extra help, you remind yourself.

But on this day she glances over the glass case wherein all your freshly baked cookies lay, a fresh bar towel in her hand as she wipes the case clean and sparkly. You catch the flash of red hair before she huffs out a sigh and tosses the towel onto the countertop.

“Just go over there,” she says, and you don’t even need her to clarify, despite the way your brows arch in feigned confusion at her words, because you know exactly where she’s referring to. She humors you all the same, nearly barking out, “To the Hideout. And don’t make that face, because we all know you go over there. Right?”

“Yeah, we’ve known,” El says, counting the tips in their ‘College Fund’ tip jar you made for them.

“It’s…kind of obvious.” Will winces, putting a lid over a fresh latte.

Max lets out another sigh. “The fact of the matter is, you’re moping around and he’s moping around, and if you’re going to do that, why not just—oh, I don’t know—mope together?”

You level them all with your best stern look, hands on your hips, but they only hide their giggles behind their palms. They’re enjoying this; they’re actually enjoying your struggle in this very present moment. “I think you three forget I’m technically your boss.”

“But…we’re also your friends,” El says, and Will nods in agreement, passing you a smile over his shoulder.

“We kind of crossed over into friendship territory when you came over Steve’s,” Max reminds you, shrugging.

“So it was a trap, then?” you tease, backing up until your shoulders press against the glass case. “You three will be good to lock up?”

“You’ve taught us everything we need to know,” Max says, and the other kids nod in agreement.

“Fine,” you agree, raising a finger to scold them when they all smirk at you. “But if anything happens, anything at all, you come get me.”

“Go!” El lets out an exasperated giggle and you slip out the door.

The Hideout isn’t as busy at this time, you discover. Normally you’re there past eight at night, and it's just after four thirty now. The sun still has yet to set, but there’s no light in here, except for that of the neon lights that glow blue above.

There’s only the quietest of conversation around you. A few people spread throughout the place, an older couple in the corner, two acquaintances at the bar. And then there’s you, sliding up onto a stool and pulling out the worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring Eddie let you borrow.

He eyes you cautiously as you do so, as if he expects the worst. But you’ve already made up your mind; made it up long ago, if you’re being honest with yourself. “You didn’t warn me that Gandalf died.”

His mouth drops open momentarily at that, but a slow smile spreads across his lips and he props a forearm against the bar across from you. He leans into it to get closer. “That would ruin the story.”

“Yeah, but you know I loved him.” You told him as much numerous times. You were fond of him, the way he cares and loves for the fellowship. The wisdom he harbors.

“I know,” Eddie says, sounding regretful. “Can I convince you to keep reading…under the promise that maybe things will get better?”

You huff and pout, sliding your finger into where your bookmark presently rests at the back of the book. “I don’t see how they can.”

“Well don’t you want to know what happens next?”

“I do.”

“Then will you trust me?” He pauses, catching himself before he continues. You watch him rub a hand along the back of his neck, rings glinting in the light. “Actually—don’t answer that.”

“Why not?” You press him, mouth settling into a firm line.

“Because I…damn it, I messed up, okay?”

“I know, and I got your flowers. I forgive you.” You nod in earnest, already resolute in your decision to forgive him and move on from it.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact I was still an asshole,” he says, sounding a little mournful. “You just…you didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

You try to offer him an easy smile as he walks around the bar and sits down beside you on another stool. It’s the closest you’ve been to him, you think. “Did I walk in at the wrong time?”

“Something like that.”

Your answer is simple then, “Okay…then I forgive you for that, too.”

“You shouldn’t,” he says quietly.

You shake your head at him. “But I do.”

“Yeah, but why do you do that?”

You’re not understanding. “Why do I do what, Eddie? I’m trying to forgive you for being an ass and you’re not letting me, so are you rejecting your own apology?”

“You’re just…damn it, you’re—and it drives me crazy. That’s why I said you annoy the shit out of me.” He groans at the end of his words, palm sliding down his face. “I’m just—look, I’m not used to people being like you.”

“Like me?” You point to yourself with your thumb, head tilting to the side.

He’s staring straight at you when he says, “Nice, sweetheart, nice.”

You ignore the little flutter that gives way at his nickname.

“Why is that?”

“Because of all the shit that happened two years ago,” he drops an elbow onto the counter and rests his forearm along the top. He’s close enough just the slightest shift on the stool will mean his fingers brushing the sleeve of your work tee shirt.

“I know,” you tell him. “And I’m sorry for that.”

His eyes shift to your face. A worry line forms between his brows, out of place on such a youthful face. “Oh, so you, uh, looked into it?”

“No,” you reassure him softly, resting your hand on the back of his. He flinches at first, but doesn’t make an effort to pull away. You offer him a slight squeeze and continue, “no I didn’t, Eddie.”

“Why not?” It’s as if he can’t believe you wouldn’t.

As if he wonders why you haven’t.

“I figured one day you’d tell me,” you reply, thumb shifting against his palm in a slow swipe before you pull away to rest against his book instead. “When you’re ready, of course.”

“Oh…o-okay.”

“Yeah, so will you let me accept your apology? This way we can start over.”

“I’d like that,” he agrees, moving to stand to his feet as a customer taps a few dollars against the bar.

“Go—back to work for you,” you tease, adding out in a quick rush, “and get me the second Lord of the Rings book!”

“So you are going to read?”

“You asked me to trust you,” you remind him, watching as he starts walking to his customer. “This is me trusting you.”

Things… change after that.

You were friends before your mild tiff, sure—but Eddie starts to change from that point on. You wonder if it’s a wish to try and maintain what he says, about trusting him, about him trying to appreciate what you’ve been to him these months. But your adventures travel outside the four walls of the Hideout and Sunshine Coffee for the first time one humid Saturday a few weeks after you restart your friendship.

After Eddie lends you The Two Towers and you breeze through it in a week’s time, you tell him you really want your own set of the books. “You know, to mark up and stuff,” you tell him, to which he calls that, “A crime that requires jail time, unless you buy two copies so you have one to keep for rereading and one to annotate,” and you shove at him as you sit beside him in his van on the way to a thrift store just outside of Hawkins in search of a new bookshelf.

You briefly wonder if this is the town he lives in, what with the way he navigates so smoothly, no question to what roads to take.

You don’t press him, however.

You’re patient with him. You want to see him grow in your presence. To pull back those layers of his rough exterior and find the gold within. You know it’s there; you’ve seen it sparkle numerous times now. Can sense it behind every secret smile he offers you.

Your first store leaves you empty handed. You slip and out of aisles in search of the perfect piece to put in your home, but find nothing to your liking. Nothing that would even do well with a nice coat of paint or a good staining.

The second shop has a nice carpet you end up purchasing, with Eddie’s awaiting arms there to carry it back to his car, but again no bookshelf. So it surprises you a little when you both climb back inside after Eddie shuts the back doors and says, “I could try and build you one?”

“Really?” You shift your head to look at him. He’s gone with a short sleeve shirt today. Red, the vibrant deep kind that makes your marrow sing because of how stark and stunning it is against his skin. “I couldn’t ask for you to do that. It’s too much, I—”

“I want to. How hard could it be?”

It leads you back to your apartment, where you sneak around the back so as to not disrupt the kids that you’ve left alone for the day while you enjoy a day off. The first in months, really. Eddie watches you fumble with the key, chuckling when your trembling fingers struggle a bit.

“Here,” he says, moving around you and filling the space beside your bodies with his own. His chest brushes your back, fingers dancing against yours as he pulls the keys from them. With a swift ‘click’ the lock slides open, and he pushes inside. “Good to know the lock still works.”

“The guy who installed it is really humble,” you tease and his eyes roll, shoving past him to inspect the apartment. “Look—I…it’s a little bit of a mess. I haven’t gotten around to fixing the place up yet. Taking care of the coffee shop comes first right now. Hence…all the stuff laying around in piles and boxes.”

When Eddie looks around, however, there’s no judgment there. Only curiosity in his dark stare as he glances around your space. You catch the mess in the sink, the boxes on the countertop beside it. There’s your unmade bed, with its burnt orange pillows and white bedspread, kicked down toward one end. To the side of that are your piles of books with your alarm clock and lamp set on them. Luckily, your clothes are unpacked and stored away in your closet, kept hidden behind a curtain you remembered to pull shut that morning.

“Well, here’s…my place,” you raise your arms in a sweeping circle. “It’s not much, but it’s…well, it’s mine. Needs a good coat of paint, some furniture, and a little love, but it does what it needs to.”

“I could help, you know?” he offers, giving the place another once-over.

“Eddie, you’re already here to measure a space for a bookshelf you’re going to build with your own hands,” you laugh out, a little shocked by his offer. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“We could do it together, lighten the burden,” he says evenly, hands on his hips. Suddenly it strikes you as odd seeing him there. The quiet boy from across the way, now your friend offering to help you get more comfortable in your new home. “We’ll need to go to the store and pick up wood for the bookshelf anyway. Why not grab some paint while we’re there?”

“Really?” you ask, and he nods. “I—if you’re sure. I’ll make you all the cookies, just wait.”

He smirks. You think you like that look on him best, because one of his dimples pops when he does so. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

You plan for the next weekend, then.

You don a simple tee shirt made to get dirty and a pair of shorts as you climb down the back stairs and slip into the coffee shop unannounced.

The kids seem a little intrigued by your plans two weeks in a row as you hurry to put together a coffee for your friend, but you remind them that you’re, “Simply conducting business, as usual.”

Max gives a little smirk to Will and El. “Oh, I'm sure there’s loads of business happening.”

The kids all burst into a fit of giggles as you splutter out a huff, tossing a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and calling over your shoulder for them to have a good time while you’re gone, and slip out the front door. Eddie’s there with the windows rolled down, metal music streaming from his windows, his hair free and in wild waves today. He’s gone with a ratty white tee and jeans, and he thanks you softly as you hand him his cup of coffee and whips down the road.

“Who is this?” you ask, listening to the words spilling from the speakers. “Take a look to the sky, just before you die. It’s the last time you will. That’s…well, it’s really chilling.”

“Metallica,” he says, chuckling as you wrinkle your nose in confusion. “A metal band. One of my favorites. You can add that to your collection of random facts about me.”

“Already written down,” you say with a soft roll of your eyes at him. “What does the song mean?”

“It’s based on the poem by Ernest Hemingway. About the Spanish Civil War. There’s basically this moment where the soldiers are surrounded on a hill and it’s their last moments before…well, before dying,” he explains, sounding a little far away. “I think the song all in all is about death, though. I mean, the part you mentioned is a thing someone does right before they die. That last look up at the sky, knowing it’s the last time they’ll see it.”

You almost want to ask him ‘ how do you know,’ but he continues quickly with, “If you like this one, I’m sure you’ll like more of their stuff. We may turn you into a metalhead, or at the very least someone with a little more refined taste, yet.” You open your mouth to give him a witty retort when he pulls in front of a hardware store and pushes his door open. You reach over to unbuckle yourself and grab the door handle, but he’s already there, offering a hand to help you down. “Okay, what color are we thinking of for the walls?”

You shrug as the two of you walk toward the store, bell jangling upon entering. “Maybe off white to match my bed?”

That’s how you learn there are approximately a thousand different shades of white to choose from. You suddenly regret asking Eddie to come along with you, even despite it being his idea, as the two of you stand in the store and thumb through a book full of different colors to choose from, turning what you thought would be a quick trip into an hour-long stay. Each one looks only minimally different from the one before it, and each one leaves you all the more confused.

“What about this one?” you ask, nudging Eddie with an elbow.

“It looks just like this one,” he points out, rubbing a hand along his jaw, his coffee cup still in hand though it’s long empty now. “How about you close your eyes and just…I don’t know, poke whichever one and go with that? And while you do that, I’ll go ask that nice looking employee over there what kind of wood we think we’ll need for your bookshelf.”

The two of you rejoin some twenty minutes later with your cash at the ready as a nice cashier rings up your purchases and glances between the two of you, smiling softly.

“Sweet that you’re building this young lady a bookshelf,” the older man says, eyes more on Eddie than you. He’s the same man who helped Eddie pick out the supplies he’d need to make you one in the first place. A pretty dark wood, with a gorgeous grain. “That young, summer love. I remember when I was your age.”

“We’re, ah, we’re friends,” Eddie clarifies with no delay, cheeks red at their highest point.

“Just really great friends,” you tell him, thanking him as he hands you back your change.

“My apologies then,” he says, but there’s a smirk along his lips that makes you believe his words were definitely intentional. “Have a great rest of your day, you two! Stay safe out there; it’s a hot one.”

It’s certainly getting warmer here, you think to yourself, sliding your money back into your little purse.

Still, you pick your paint up off the counter and watch as Eddie palms the handle of the shopping cart, spirit bright as you wish him a wonderful day and head out the front door.

And if your heart races a little bit, well there’s no point in pondering that.

The room is ready in no time for painting. Summer sun seeps through your open windows, air filtering in through the screens. You took down the curtains to keep them from getting messy and helped Eddie pull all your furniture into the center of the room to try and prevent any spills.

It doesn’t take long before you’re helping lay out tarps around the space to protect your floors, laughing when Eddie struggles a bit getting them to unfurl fully before draping them around the room. There are tins full of rollers and paint strewn about the floor, ready for usage, and music drifting from your record player hidden within your closet. A little Dean Martin, one of your grandfather's favorites, croons in your tiny space, bringing joy to your heart.

And then there’s Eddie, with his hair back in a low bun, taping around your windows and cabinets to ensure you don’t go over any of the areas you intend to keep as they are with the off white you had chosen.

“What’s your favorite song?” It’s a random question he asks as the song changes and “Everybody Loves Somebody” plays. “If you had to pick one, what would it be? The one you can play over and over and never get bored of.”

You’re mid-emptying your dish drain into your kitchen cabinets when you pause to think about it. The question catches you off guard, but you’re always excited when Eddie asks questions to get to know you better. And right now, in this moment where it’s just the two of you in your home, seems like the perfect time to do so.

“Uhm…” You trail off, running a towel over the inside of a still-wet bowl. “‘Lay All Your Love on Me.’ I could probably listen to it forever.”

He’s throwing another one of those smirks your way and you stick your tongue out at him, earning a low chuckle. “Sorry, okay, ‘Lay All Your Love on Me.’ It is a good song.”

“So you do listen to ABBA,” you tease.

“I can appreciate their songs, sure. Especially since Steve and Robin listen to them all the time,” he says, coming to join you in the kitchen, tossing the painter’s tape into your kitchen drawer for safe keeping.

You shove your bowl up in its proper cabinet, draping the towel over your shoulder. “What about you? What song can Eddie Munson listen to on repeat for the rest of his life?”

He seems a little caught off by your question. Face morphing from momentary shock to thoughtfulness, brows pinching together, mouth taut. “If I had to pick just one, I would probably go with ‘The Trooper’ by Iron Maiden,” he says at last.

“They’re the ones who sang ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls,’ right?” you ask.

“No that’s Metallica, but you’re learning, Young Padawan,” he replies, pulling out a fresh paint brush and holding it aloft. “Are you ready to paint?”

It’s easy to work with him in the confines of your apartment. The two of you mingle here and there amongst yourselves, but there’s a comfort in the silence that stretches out between you. It’s not the kind that needs to be full of conversation, because it’s more the feeling in your heart simply having him there.

The gentle brushes of your arms when you both reach to wet your rollers, the accidental splash of pale color you accidentally get on his arm when you do so, the gentle caress of his laugh that tickles the hair along your neck when he says ‘it’s okay.’ It goes on like that for hours, the two of you working in tandem, the sounds of Dean Martin and brush strokes intermingling with Eddie’s commentary, on his praise of how your work is coming out, his guidance on the hardest to reach areas.

You pause only to eat some pizza, kindly brought up by Will, who asks if you two need any help before he heads out for the afternoon. You thank him and offer him a slice to go, but wish him a nice rest of his day to rest and relax. And then you’re alone once more with Eddie, commenting on how this pizza isn’t like your pizza back home.

“Better?” he asks, picking a pepperoni off his slice and dropping it onto his tongue.

“Definitely better,” you hum delightfully.

“Where is ‘back home?’”

It’s your turn to smirk, shrugging. “That’s a long story, and we have work to do, my friend. Now eat up.”

It’s not long before you’re both sitting in the middle of the room, paint brushes laying in little cups, rollers in their tins, your hands supporting your upper bodies as you look up at your work. The room looks perfect. So much brighter than it was before, even despite the slowly setting sun over Hawkins. It’s a beautiful cotton candy confection; oranges, pinks and lavender visible through your window. You stare ahead and Eddie does too, chests heavy from exertion, sweat slicking skin, basking in companionable silence.

You jolt briefly as the pad of a finger brushes along your jaw, settling when you shift and realize it’s only him, staring at you with a look unnamable behind his eyes. “You got a little paint…right here,” he says, answering the question already stewing in your mind before you can even voice the words.

You glance down to where his hand rests against your skin, and then back up to his face, trying to hide the shaky breath that struggles to escape. It’s a short moment, but does little to quell the rapid turn of your insides as they do a flip within you, cut even shorter when a knock at the door sends Eddie jumping to his feet to glance through the peephole.

You suspect it’s someone you know, because he opens the door and greets El on the other side, her small wave and ‘hello’ greeting your ears soon after. “I just wanted to let you know I finished closing up. Money is all counted, and Max helped me set up for tomorrow.”

You climb to your feet, coming to step around Eddie and curl your hand around the door. “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for helping out today.”

“Anytime!” she says, and you close the door behind her, leaving you alone once more with your dark haired friend.

The two of you clean up in silence, that brief moment of touch long forgotten as he helps you get rid of all the paint supplies and tosses them into a garbage bag. Your furniture and other things will have to stay where they are for now to keep dry, with a promise that he’ll come help you once more.

“Well…it looks amazing,” you say, doing a slow spin about the room as he finishes washing his hands in the kitchen sink, admiring your work. “Thank you again for helping, seriously. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

You watch his hand reach around him to fumble with his car keys in his back pocket. “It’s no problem. I should go though; I have to stop somewhere before heading home. Little bit of a drive, you know?”

“Oh—y eah, of course!” Your head nods rapidly, stepping backward a bit so he can move to the door. “Can’t exactly keep you here all night.”

“Goodnight,” he says, palm curling around the door handle.

“Goodnight,” you reply softly, hand coming up in a little wave.

You shut the door with a sigh and trail back over to your closet and lift the record, flipping it back over to the first side. The stylus settles where you want it and the familiar beginning notes of “Everybody Loves Somebody” fills your apartment.

Everybody loves somebody sometime. Everybody falls in love somehow...

You smile as you ready for bed, brushing a finger along the picture resting in a box for safe keeping of your grandfather, placed there lovingly by Eddie. Your fingers press against your lips and rest along his smiling face, voice quiet as you whisper, “I had the best day…”

Chance tells you he’ll be at your apartment by six, but he shows up early in a freshly ironed button up and a pair of slacks, hair perfectly styled on his head.

Chance buys you flowers and sets them in your awaiting arms as you approach that night.

Chance opens the door for you when you walk up to Enzo’s.

Chance compliments you on your features, tells you how good you look, brushes a kiss against your temple.

He stares at you the whole night through the candlelight glow, fingers dancing along yours ever so slightly.

He buys an expensive bottle of wine and makes sure you order whatever you want. You settle on pasta, and he orders a steak. Comments on the fact you didn’t need to be shy and order something cheaper. But you smile and bat your eyelashes, answering his questions as enthusiastically as you can.

It should be perfect. In all reality, it really should be.

It’s just…not fluid.

He talks about his work. About handing out tickets, arrests, the parties he’s broken up where underage kids got a little too rowdy. And you talk about your shop, your workers, your quirky customers. But it all feels very surface level, all very forced.

Stilted.

It’s not even to say he isn’t nice, because he is.

Maybe a little arrogant, what with the way he talks highly of himself and his achievements fresh out of high school only a couple years ago now, but you can write that off as him being excited and overly eager to spend time with you.

He’s just…not for you, and you can tell very early on into the date he’s not.

So as he drives you home and walks you to your apartment door, you press your fingers against the center of his chest when he leans down to kiss you and whispers how beautiful you are near your skin. Because while he’s nice and he’s perfectly fine, there’s no denying the fact he doesn’t rouse those feelings that a friend of yours does.

There’s no spark, no flame, nothing to kindle a connection with.

“Thank you for tonight, Chance,” you whisper, and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

He nods, resolute, and wishes you a goodnight at your door. Tells you he’ll see you around. You trudge up your stairs and slip inside your apartment, readying yourself for bed. You scrub the remainder of your makeup off from the evening, slip out of the dress you had worn to look nice at the fancy restaurant. It spills from your body into a messy puddle on the floor, and you toss it into the nearby hamper as you yawn, making your way across the room to where the lights from the Hideout dance and pulse against your skin. You press your fingers against the glass briefly, longingly, and shut the light on your book pile near your bed, dousing the room in darkness.

“So Eddie plays at this bar with his band from time to time. They used to play at the Hideout, but when Eddie moved out of town, he found this new spot, and instead of their five drunk people that used to be in majority of their crowds, they actually have a little bit of a following now,” Robin explains, leading you into the dark bar behind her. Steve’s there as well, but he’s standing off in the distance with some other guys dressed in dark colors, heads nodding as they talk. “Over there with Steve are…Jeff and Gareth. They’re Eddie’s band mates. And then there’s Kevin—he’s the one up on stage. He’s another. And Eddie…well, Eddie is probably in the back mentally preparing himself or something. He’s very passionate, like, very passionate about his music.”

You nod silently, finding yourself a little overwhelmed in the dark room. Not only is it in an unfamiliar town, but there’s a sea of swirling faces around you, melding together in the dim red lights dangling above. It’s definitely a younger crowd than that of the Hideout, and a lot more upscale. It seems like the kind of place people gravitate to, bodies pushing into yours as you try to force your way through the crowd behind Robin, her hand a vice around yours as she leads you to the bar.

She orders you both a round of tequila shots that you down swiftly, head darting around the area in search of the familiar head of wavy brown hair. He’s still nowhere to be found, however. “I can see if the guys know where he is.”

“I—I can wait,” you rush out, raising your voice above the music. “They’ll be starting soon anyway.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to see you anyway,” she yells back, earning a glare from a woman standing close to the bar. She places an order for your next round of drinks and helps you back over to where Steve and Eddie’s band mates are.

Steve immediately raises an arm and tugs you into the crook of his elbow. “This is our newest friend,” he says, and tells them your name. Jeff and Gareth nod their heads, looking to you and then to each other, where they pass one another a quick look. It’s so brief you think you’ve mistaken it, and instead hold your hand up in a quick wave. “You’re probably looking for Ed, right? Here, let me show you around.”

Steve Harrington is kind and caring, first and foremost. You don’t know the full nature of his friendship with Eddie, but you know enough that you can tell they’re close. That whatever happened two years ago, from the brief snippets you’ve heard of it brought up in conversation, became a sort of catalyst for what they are to one another now. And because of that, because of the friendship between Eddie and yourself, that kindness and immediate love has been extended to you. You find yourself grateful for it as he leads you down a dark hallway, passing a break room you assume is for the workers of the actual bar, before he raps his knuckles on a room furthest in the back.

Eddie’s there a moment later. Dark hair loose about his shoulders, a lightning bolt earring dangling in one ear, tight jeans fitted to his thighs, Corroded Coffin written across his black tee shirt in white letters. He’s foregone his leather jacket, his bat tattoos, and another tattoo you’ve not seen before on the inside of a scarred bicep flashing before your eyes as he steps backwards into the room. You realize he only goes without when he’s outside of Hawkins, and you only briefly get a chance to wonder why before he’s gesturing for you two to come inside.

“I actually am going to check up on Robin. Make sure she’s not ordering too many drinks for them,” he says, pointing to you. “You know how Robs gets.”

“Oh I know,” Eddie says, but it’s accompanied by a fond chuckle, likely full of memories filled with Robin’s escapades.

You’ve only hung out with her a handful of times and can easily admit she’s a lot of fun. She’s also quite a bit more ambitious in social settings than even you are. You love that about her, though.

Steve leaves the two of you to it, door clicking shut and leaving you alone with the man. He drapes himself over the small couch situated in the far corner of the room, all long limbs over the top of the couch, one foot hooking over his thigh. You catch the barest hint of pale skin and lean muscle as he does so, catching your stare drifting before he says anything about it and focusing in on his eyes instead.

“This place is crazy,” you say, a little breathlessly.

“Definitely beats the Hideout, huh?”

“Definitely,” you agree, flopping down next to him when he pats the couch near his hip.

You were shocked when he brought up the show to you initially. Told you in passing at the bar about the show coming up mid-July, as if you’d talked about the fact Eddie plays in a band prior to that evening.

You want to press him further for not opening up about it sooner, but you suppose you should have picked up on the signs. His random strumming when you sat in the car together and his music played in the background, the tapping of his fingers, the random humming of songs and scribble of lyrics in a notepad when he thought you weren’t looking.

“I’m happy you invited me,” you tell him honestly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he replies, his fingers spread along the top of the couch tapping your shoulder in a tune unknown. “I’m almost done with your bookshelf, by the way. Got my uncle to help with it, actually.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me that,” you whine, cupping your hand over your face.

“He wanted to help,” he reassures you, pushing at your wrist so he can see you. You shove at him jokingly, his laugh a rumble in your ears. “I’ve been keeping it at his place. Should be done probably by next weekend, if you want me to come to the apartment.”

You nod. “Next weekend is perfect. Maybe I’ll make us dinner. Like a little…celebration. We painted my apartment, replaced that hideous rug, and you built me a bookshelf. That place is actually starting to look like my place.” You pause, immediately rethinking your words, spluttering out, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, staring into your eyes just as a knock sounds from the door. A voice calls Eddie’s name from the other side, vaguely familiar to you, and Eddie shouts back, “Come in!”

Gareth appears with his longer hair flopping about his head, pausing when he catches you sitting on the couch beside his band mate. “Sorry. We just go on in five. Wanted to make sure you were ready.”

You shift away from Eddie on the couch, wiping your hands on your shorts as you stand to your full height. “I’ll let you guys get ready. I’ll see you out there.”

“See you out there,” he says, ignoring the way Gareth’s lip twitches upward when you duck around the boy and slip out of the room.

You wade through the sea of bodies once you’re back in the main area, catching sight of Steve’s floppy head of hair first before you see Robin hopping up and down beside him. They’ve managed to secure a little table and chairs, high enough over most heads that you’ll be able to see the stage. Robin hands you a margarita as you sit down, the drink chilling against your throat as you take your first sip gratefully.

She passes you a knowing grin, murmuring, “Where’d you run along to?”

“Stop instigating,” you huff out, but you giggle all the same, grinning when she pulls you into a hug. “But if you must know, I went to go check up on Eddie.”

Steve turns to look at the two of you then, explaining, “Robs snuck another shot while you were gone.”

“My friend over here has to catch up!” She jostles your shoulders a bit, and you hug her tighter.

“Your friend here has to work tomorrow, hon,” you remind her, running a hand down the back of her head when she pouts. “But I’ll have one more with you, okay? And then it’s off to bed for me.”

“Compromise,” Steve says, nodding enthusiastically.

Robin seems okay with that, plopping down onto the stool beside you as Corroded Coffin comes out onto the stage and gets into position. You briefly scan the band, their outfits all an array of black and white, with Eddie catching your eye the most. Him with his hair back, his band tee on display, ripped jeans tight against his thighs. And when they begin, you can only watch, completely enraptured, by the way his fingers move along his electric guitar. He moves like he was born to move on stage, head moving to and fro as he dives into the music—as if he’s one with it.

“He’s really good, isn’t he?” Robin asks low in your ear, sliding your shot of tequila in front of you.

You quickly swallow it down, following it up with your lime wedge. Your heart rackets against your ribcage as his fingers dash along the strings, movements precise and practiced, like the instrument is another part of his body, blending seamlessly into the rest of him.

“Yeah,” you mutter quietly, sipping the remainder of your margarita to chill your nerves that dance and hum with life beneath your skin, “he is.”

The fact you’re even here now means the world to you. This part of him he’s willingly choosing to share, something so deeply and uniquely his, that only his friends are privy to. It’s not lost on you, the meaningfulness of the evening. Being able to be there for him, in support of him.

You won’t take that for granted…this little glimpse of Eddie that you know has been entrusted to you for safe keeping.

It’s a day like any other. And by that, the girls are once again stirring the pot and trying to get a rise out of you and see what they can say to get information about the happenings of your personal life.

You should expect it by now, you suppose.

“Eddie’s been coming around more and more,” Max points out that afternoon as you and the girls close up shop.

El remains from a safe distance, as always, listening in on the conversation.

“Don’t think I forgot about what you girls did with the whole Fourth of July situation,” you warn them, brandishing your broom like a weapon.

“What do you mean?” El asks, and as much as you want to pretend she’s playing coy, you know he’s genuinely innocent.

“So you two aren’t trying to instigate anything between Eddie and I?” you press, looking in Max’s direction as she whistles to herself, suddenly highly intrigued by a spot on the ceiling.

“I know nothing about that at all,” Max says, holding out the dust pan so you can flick your collected dirt into it. “But if something were to happen, that would be pretty cool.”

You scoff disbelievingly. “There’s nothing going on with us, though. We’re friends; really good friends these days, honestly, but just friends.”

“Are you aware you just said friends three times in that explanation?” She seems way too happy with herself. “Seems excessive if you say you’re just friends.”

But you were.

You are.

There’s never been an indication as to anything that would suggest otherwise. He’s never given you any idea that his feelings are outside the boundaries of platonic friendship. Plus it’s only been five months since you’ve known him, and even less since you’ve been spending time with him.

You chalk it up to the girls wanting to have their fun and play it off once more like it means nothing—like there’s not a hidden part of you that does like Eddie more than you’ve let on, and finish cleaning up the coffee shop.

Eddie arrives as expected with your bookshelf at the ready. It’s beautiful. All dark brown wood with the prettiest natural grain, almost like it’s come from the forest itself. He helps you place your collection in their proper places on the shelves, taking a step back to admire your new set of Tolkien books, lovingly suggested by him. A little influence of his own self injected into your life.

You’ve settled on spaghetti, the smell of fresh sauce filling your apartment as Eddie takes in the place, now a lot different than when he saw it last. You've unpacked more of your kitchen, trying to ensure the place feels more like home. There’s a warmth to it now that you feel it lacked before. That, paired with your citrusy candle burning on the tabletop, and you feel your grandfather would be smiling down from wherever he is now.

You talk about the banalities of life as you finish up the cooking. His work, the building of your bookshelf, the minute updates to your apartment. You tell him about the kids and then business, how it’s prospering more than you could ever imagine. You’re making actual money now; enough where you could earn a decent living in Hawkins, though that part you leave out.

It brings him once more to the question you know he had intended to ask you last time he sat in this same space. His question to you is, “Where was home before here?”

As you told him before, it’s a long and winding tale. It’s like the stories in Middle Earth you’ve been reading about, these constant travelers, unable to settle for long in one place. So you settle for that, the abbreviated version, the simpler tale.

“My family moved a bunch when I was younger,” you explain, shoveling some spaghetti down onto his place and yours. He pours you a glass of wine as you move to sit, eyes not once leaving your face as you continue. “So, I, uh…bounced around a lot. You know, from school to school. It was kind of always that way for as long as I remember. As a kid I hated it. Never really staying in one place meant not really having a solid group of friends or people I could build any sense of community with.”

“I understand that,” he says, twirling the noodles around his fork.

“As I got older, though, I learned there were positives to that arrangement. I could get to know new people, experience new things, try new foods, learn new cultures,” you explain, memories of the various places you’ve lived. Warmer, tropical places; bustling cities; beach side apartments; quiet towns. “I had friends in…many places all of a sudden. I learned to sort of just seize the moment for what it is and make the most of it.”

“So how’d you end up here? In Hawkins out of all places?”

You swallow a bit of your noodles and down some of your wine. “My grandfather always wanted to see me slow down. I loved coming here as a kid, honestly. I have so many memories of this shop, just running in here and smelling his fresh cookies. The coffee. He’d sometimes sneak me some before my parents would let me have it. I’d spend my summers here with him, pretending to work for him, just…watching him. And he had such a, uh, joy for helping people. So when he died and gave me this place, I thought it was only right to uphold his name here.”

He nods, eyes soft as he regards you across the kitchen table. “Do you think you’ll stay?”

“Ah…that’s hard. My whole life I’ve sort of been running, I guess. Leaving before I could get too attached. I want to say I will, I just—”

“Don’t know any differently,” he says, and it sounds like he understands. “Running gets tiring, though. Trust me.”

“It does,” you admit, biting your lip.

You want to stop, you do. There’s just this fear that accompanies it. Of opening up enough to let people in and form a true community. Laying yourself bare to those who can nurture and also hurt you if you let them. But you’re trying. Sitting there, in that moment, with Eddie staring at you like he is, you find that you’re trying.

“If it helps your case in staying,” he says, climbing to his feet to toss his dish in the sink, “I’d be happy…you know, if you did. Steve and Robin would, too. The kids.”

Your heart warms as he says so, moving about your kitchen like he’s been doing so forever. He works in silence, even despite your protests as you tell him you’ll clean up, but he’s not having it. Instead he forces you to go pop on a record. Not ABBA, for the love of God (his words). You settle instead on Mötley Crüe, which he says is only marginally better, but he quiets after that. You can only hear the sound of a sponge against dishes and plates as he works, his arms shifting as he works. You try to keep from looking, but he’s all honed muscle and dark ink swirling across skin.

He goes to turn the sink off and starts to walk your way when the sound of a thump and a skitter of claws and wings meets your ears, loud enough over the music that it makes you jump out of your chair.

But Eddie’s reaction has your blood running cold. The way he lets out a strangled cry and stumbles backward into your counters, dropping down onto his bottom on the floor, hands around his kneecaps.

He’s not breathing.

You can hear the rasp of lungs that won’t fill, of his struggle as he turns in on himself, hand clutching at his chest.

You drop onto the tiles in front of him, gently crawling across the floor so as to not spook him further. He’s gasping like he’s in pain and you reach out to brush your fingers over the bats along the back of his forearm, along the curve of wings, trying to get him to look at you.

“Eddie?” You whisper his name, and his eyes shift just enough to meet yours.

Horror rounds those dark swirls of anguish, full of something you can’t quite see within them. Flashes of memory you’re not privy to. But you know it haunts him all the same, you can tell from what he’s told you, what his friends have, the events that no one speaks of and only alludes to.

“Eddie, it’s me,” you try again, watching his teeth clench. You want to reach up and smooth the tension from there, but instead keep your fingers connected where they lay against his skin. “It was just a bat or an animal or something. Hit the window. Silly little thing. I just washed the windows, sometimes they get confused. I’ve got you, I promise.”

You move even closer, sliding to hands up along his shoulders, up and down his arm until his focus trails to that instead of his shuddering breaths. “You’re having a panic attack,” you say out loud, though you’re sure he already knows that. “Do you want me to leave? I want whatever you want right now, okay?”

“N-no,” he heaves out, his expression fearful as he finally fully looks at you. His hand clasps around yours where it rests against his arm.

He’s pale.

He's so pale.

“Okay, yeah, I’m here,” you reassure him, his hand loosening so your palms can continue sliding up and down his arms slowly. “Try and match your breathing to mine. Slow inhales and exhales. I’m not going anywhere.”

You sit like that for a few minutes. Your legs bent so they can curve around Eddie’s broken form, your hands along his skin, his forehead against his knees as he gets a hold of his bearings.

He matches your breathing, slow inhales for five seconds, and then an exhale for just as long. Over and over again until he’s breathing normally once again, until the tension radiating from his form dissolves into a slower simmer.

You part from him only for a second to grab him some ice water, dropping back down to the floor to press the glass into his awaiting palm. He thanks you through a rasp as he sips eagerly, hands still shaking in doing so.

“Do you need me to do anything? Do you need anything?” you ask him, thumb still stroking his skin even now.

“This is fine,” he says. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“You’re sorry? Eddie, I’m your friend. That means if you need me, I’m there for you,” you remind him, stilling in your movements. “That means the good, bad, and the ugly.”

He gives your hand another squeeze before standing to his feet. He drops a palm in front of your face and pulls you up with him. Your form teeters a bit, but he catches you before you can slam into him.

“I…that hasn’t happened in a while,” he says, still sounding a little regretful. “I just—ah, I’m sorry.”

“No apologies.”

His features soften a bit at your mock scowl. It soothes your heart to hear him laugh. “Thank you again for talking me through it.”

You want to say ‘anytime’ or ‘always,’ but those words don’t seem fitting when it’s clear he’s still struggling. But you don’t get a chance to say anything at all, because he’s brushing the topic aside in favor of pulling out the VHS he brought of Star Wars: A New Hope, and dragging your old electronics from your closet to set them up for your viewing party.

And as the opening theme song plays and Eddie’s face illuminates beside yours in the dark, you can’t help but to question just what happened to him in March of 1986?

July 30, 1988 dawns warm and bright. Today’s adventures involve a night out at the local Fun Fair. A grandiose carnival full of lights, candy, food, rides, and games galore. Everywhere you look there are new sights to see, from the Ferris Wheel at the very rear, to the chair swings that spin high above the rest of the crowd, feet kicking as people laugh and trill from above. You see vendors passing out cotton candy as you go, boys passing their dates oversized stuffed animals after showing off their heroic prowess that normally you’d scoff at, but find yourself grinning over instead. Your heart swells because it just screams summer and you’re surrounded by the people who’ve become so very important to you in almost half a year’s time.

You wear a yellow summer dress, littered with pink flowers that match the neon lights glowing as far as the eye can see. The world is doused in color and life, children giggling as they pass excitedly from where you’re tightly pressing against Eddie as you walk behind Robin and Steve, who are already in search of the Gravitron.

The kids have already run up ahead. Mike and El go to make out in the photo booth—a fact you only know because Dustin practically taunted them into submission for being disgusting—and Lucas and Max to go try their own hand at some games. Will remains at Robin’s side, telling her stories about his studies at high school, while you simply let Eddie lead the way for now.

It’s been two weeks since his panic attack in your kitchen, and he seems more or less his typical self. At least from what you can tell in the months he’s been a constant in your life. He’s happy. Happier now, according to Steve one evening in passing as the four of you play Charades in his backyard over a couple of beers and burgers. It’s not the first time you’ve been told as such, and yet there’s something that sparks to life and cracks like lightning behind your ribs at the idea Eddie is opening up once more.

“Come this way,” Eddie whispers near your ear, stealing you away from the group to lead you down a side strip of the fun fair.

People grumble as you pass, your body colliding with another here and there as Eddie drags you behind him, soft mutters of “sorry” spilling from your lips. You’re bumping against his shoulder when he stops. You laugh out, “Bumper cars, really?”

“Get in,” he chuckles, and you’re practically racing him to clamber inside one. It’s a flurry of tangling limbs as you go about it, hands reaching between hands to try and buckle yourselves in before the hustle and bustle of moving vehicles begins at the sound of a buzzer. Your hands move to the steering wheel, his voice high and tight as he says, “I’m driving, sweetheart.”

“I’ve seen you drive,” you tell him, pushing at his elbows with your own to keep him from moving you away from the wheel. “Plus there are kids here. We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

One of which slams into you both from behind, and just so happens to be a grinning Max and Lucas, looking a little too devious for your liking.

Eddie whips his head around and shouts, “The Party doesn’t attack other Party members.”

“Maybe if you two would stop flirting you’d have seen us coming,” she drawls, and they are driving away, leaving the two of you giggling in her wake.

Lucas yells over his shoulder, “Sorry, Eddie!”

You turn to look at the very disgruntled metalhead with a smirk, elbow digging into his ribs lightly. “You can drive.”

You like to think you don’t have many regrets in your twenty-two years of life. You’ve always been one to try something once, maybe twice. But this? Letting Eddie drive the bumper car, with revenge behind his eyes intent to be dealt to Max, rank up there alongside those few that do make your list. Because he’s a dizzying swirling mess, whipping arms, screeching tires if this thing had wheels. And yet you’re laughing, ribs aching from the burn from the force, as he slams into Lucas and Max over and over and over again until she’s cursing at him from across cars and an attendant reminds you this is a kid friendly ride and that all fighting should be taken off the premises.

Your body bumps his as you split away from the other couple, trying not to linger on Max’s words. Trying to not think about the way they made something like excitement bubble up into hope.

Where you’re standing now, your hands brush every few steps. The gentle thrill of fingers against fingers, the sides of palms kissing, wrists knocking in the spaces between you. But he doesn’t stray from your side, instead pulls you closer when someone bumps into your arm in passing and you wince, nearly arm in arm now.

“Chair swings?” he asks, the blue of the neon lights flashing in his eyes as he looks down at you. He points upward and you can see them in all their splendor dangling from up above. Your head tips back briefly to take them in, a slow swallow sliding down your throat. Sensing your hesitance, you feel his hand lightly brush your arm. “We don’t have to.”

“No—no, I want to.”

It’s how you find yourself in a chair beside Eddie, him looking like he’s ready to take on the world, lighter than you’ve ever seen him before. Whereas you? You’re gripping onto the metal of the chair so hard you’re certain your knuckles strain from the effort, heart hammering away in your chest. Because you wanted to see him happy, you wanted it so badly, but there’s the matter of your own fear welling up. The feeling of being high above the ground, of flying, of soaring like you’re about to be.

Eddie’s hand stretches over the spaces between you and you glance down, brow arching instinctively. He brushes his fingers with yours and waits for you to twine them with his, your fear dissipating knowing he’s there to tether you.

“I’ve got you,” he says, and you trust him. “I promise.”

They’re your words to him in your kitchen.

Your breath hitches, lips spreading into a slow smile.

Maybe you keep your eyes closed the whole ride. Maybe you simply listen to the sounds of others' joy around you. Maybe you pray every second you’re up there for the ride to be over. But as time goes by, with his palm resting warm and solid in your own, you open your eyes and glance out over the crowd. They’re small, they’re so small and you’re infinite—at this moment at least. And to your right, when you blink, Eddie’s there…just as he promises.

Running seems tiring like this, when you’re high above the world, free from it all.

Back on the ground, he leads you to the endless rows of games where the two of you fail miserably over and over again to secure any prize. But you can’t fault his persistence all the same, the way his tongue sticks between his lips as you stand before the ring toss and he loses over and over and over again.

“Eddie, come on…there’s more games this way,” you tell him, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

You glance over to the attendant, as if he’ll have pity on the poor man’s soul, intent on trying to win just one game. He doesn’t though, and asks for another fee to play again.

All in all, Eddie ends up following you over to play a game of balloon darts, and you find he’s actually much better at this one. So much so he wins you a teddy bear definitely too big for your bed back home, and shoves it into your awaiting arms for safe keeping. Your fingers brush against the plush of its soft head, grinning down at the chocolate brown eyes that mimic Eddie’s.

“Teddy, meet Eddie,” you say, mostly to yourself, but Eddie reaches over to squeeze the arm of the bear all the same. “What do we think about grabbing some funnel cake and going on the Ferris Wheel? I know it’s not my baking, but it's practically a rite of passage for these kinds of things.”

You feel like a teenager all over again with the boy you find yourself giddy around, climbing onto the bench for the ride. With the way he tucks Teddy into the space near his hip to keep the bear in place and shifts you closer so he can reach over to rip parts of the sweet treat from the plate between the two of you. Hawkins grows smaller and smaller beneath you, the fear of the free fall long gone from your mind when he pins you in place with his stare, doughy sweetness flooding your tastebuds. And as you pause at the very top, a bit of powder spills over onto his chin, mingling with the scar that creeps along his skin there.

You lift a thumb hesitantly, explaining what you’re doing before you do so to not spook him. “You got powder…just there,” you explain, brushing your thumb across his chin, then further along the slightest bit of puckered skin.

He releases a shaky breath, but doesn’t pull away from your touch. In fact, he leans into it, as you tentatively slide it along the bottom of his jaw.

“Does it hurt?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head. “Not anymore. Not now.”

Words hang in the spaces between you. You keep your hand against his skin and glance up to the sky, counting the stars in the sky, counting them like little blessings. Tiny secrets.

Of all the days you’ve spent here so far, this one has to be your favorite.

A reason in your ever growing list of ‘whys’ in your constant questioning of whether or not you wish to stay.

“So,” Robin says, fingers carding through a stack of vinyls. The way she says it immediately signals to you that she’s up to no good, though that’s hardly surprising since she and Steve are some of the biggest instigators you know.

Your white shoes tap against the carpet covered floors, tongues still cherry red from the ices you consumed with your friend before heading to the local music store. You tug at your tank top, trying to let the air filtering from the fan positioned in the corner of the room chill your skin.

It’s a scorcher today, and while most people seem to have gotten the memo to stay inside, you and Robin spent the day thrifting for new fall clothes for you and walking around town.

You’re confident this will be your last stop though before heading back to your apartment to watch a movie with her.

“You and a certain friend of ours seem to be getting pretty cozy lately,” she says, peeking up at you innocently through her lashes.

You flip through a stack, pulling a Blondie record from the bunch to potentially add to your collection. “We’re friends. Friends…hang out.”

“Friends that go on the ferris wheel together and share dessert,” Robin says, raising a brow. You shake your head, snorting lightly before moving to another bin of records.

“I share food with you and Steve all the time,” you point out. “You and the kids are meddling lately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You chuckle. “Of course you don’t.”

“You have to admit, it would be so cute—”

“Robin!” you warn, smiling wide at her.

“You dingus, you’re smiling because you like him so much. You can’t even fool me—” You rush around the bins between the two of you to clap your hand over her mouth, bursting out into louder girlish laughter as the two of you meet eyes.

“Let’s just get out of here,” you tell her, holding your record close to your chest. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

You both leave the store arm in arm, faces to the sun, world at your fingertips.

Gramps, you think , I’m starting to feel like this could be home, and that both terrifies me and excites me. Wish you were here…

It’s August 17th and Eddie is finally twenty-three. His Uncle Wayne wakes him with a cup of coffee brewed to his liking, and an omelet with all his favorite things. There’s a card on the kitchen table and a cheery balloon with a weight attached to it that sits beside it, Happy Birthday written in sprawling letters.

When he was younger, he’d probably have protested when Wayne reached down to curl a palm around the side of his head and kissed his head of waves, but now he’s only happy he’s still here to spend birthdays with him.

And judging by the smile on Wayne’s face, he feels the same. “You have any plans today, son?” he asks, sliding his Garfield mug before him, swirling a sugar inside.

“Just seeing Steve,” he says.

“Good kid, that one,” his uncle agrees, and it’s how Eddie finds himself walking toward Sunshine Coffee with Steve, wondering why the hell they were there now when the place closes at this time anyway.

The lights are out; he can see the dimness of the room from where they’re standing, but Steve’s telling him to hurry up because they have to meet up with Robin for game night and they’re about to be late.

“I don’t understand why we needed to stop here anyway?” Eddie huffs out, long legs carrying him as swiftly as possible.

“We need to pick up dessert. Your little lady friend baked a whole bunch and said we could come get them when ready,” he replies, tugging Eddie closer by his arm.

He’s about to curse Steve for pulling his arm like he is, but they’re opening the door and a light flickers on and all Eddie can do is stand in the doorway mute for likely the first time in his life as he takes in the scene around him.

The coffee shop has been completely transformed. The tables all moved together to make one giant seating area. Streamers of all colors hang from the ceilings, a banner that says Happy Birthday dangles from the front register counters. Music spills from a loudspeaker further into the room. And all about the room are the people who mean the most to him. From his Corroded Coffin friends, Hopper and Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy, the kids, Robin, his Uncle ( who gives him a knowing smile), Steve to his left…and then there’s you.

Standing with a cake in the middle of the room, his name written out across the white frosting in a bright red, with your makeshift attempt at drawing his guitar on the side.

Everyone’s shouting happy birthday, and when he looks over to Steve, he only gives him a nod and he’s stepping further into the room. It’s overwhelming, the fullness that floods his heart. The way the kids all step forward, wanting a chance to wish him happy birthday, to hug him. His friends do the same, each offering him well wishes and a pat on the back or a tight squeeze. Over and over again until his head spins, because he’s not used to this sort of affection.

Not used to being celebrated—not like this.

His Uncle steps forward as the crowd clears, reaching forward to bring his nephew close to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me about this, pops?”

“I was held under strict guidance from that young lady over there to keep it a secret,” he explains, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to where you’re standing, head tilted back in laughter as Max and Dustin wave their hands wildly before you, clearly deep in some sort of tale. “You know, you’ve never introduced me to her before.”

“She’s a good friend,” he says, calling your name above the crowd. Your head immediately darts his way, before turning to the kids to excuse yourself. He tries to quell the rapid flutter in his chest as you draw nearer, as your skirt dances about your thighs, as your infectious curl smiles when you approach him. “I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

“Formally, at least,” Wayne says, passing you a little wink. “Seeing as we spoke a couple weeks back.”

You waste no time in reaching forward and hugging the man, shocking both Wayne and Eddie, but Eddie supposes it’s really not that shocking at all. You’ve always been warm. You ooze life and make people feel like they can be open, without any worry as to what you might think of them. It’s one of the things he admires most about you, so he simply smiles as Wayne shares in that embrace with you and pulls back after a while with a giant smile, murmuring something so quietly to you Eddie doesn’t quite catch it.

Your reply is a nod and you settle back at Eddie’s side, glancing up at him through your lashes as you wrap his side in a hug. The first hug you’ve given him. “Happy Birthday, Eddie.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says sincerely, glancing at his Uncle. “Uncle Wayne…this is…” He tells him your name, and then does the reverse, finally introducing the two of you. But it’s as if you’ve known each other for years as the two of you split away from him and talk over the coffee pot, showing him how to work it.

He doesn’t miss the way he misses your warmth soon after it's gone.

Steve appears to his right, arms folded across his chest. “It’s okay to admit you like her, you know? Also, in case you were wondering, it was her idea to do this in the first place. We promised you wouldn’t get mad at her. We thought it was a good idea.”

“I’m not mad,” Eddie promises, and chooses not to acknowledge that first part.

Because he’s not even yet had a chance to process the feeling bursting from beneath his ribcage whenever you’re near. The way his stomach dips, chest tightens, palms start to sweat. He’s never really had many opportunities throughout his teenage years, always too weird, too loud, too much for most girls. Sure, he’s kissed a few here and there, maybe had a make out at the Hideout here and there in a dark corner.

But nothing like this, nothing of this nature. And he especially never expected it happening after the Upside Down.

For so long he’s seen himself as some beast. As some monster that lurks in the shadows.

Now…well, you’re different, he supposes. You draw those parts of him forward. You make him step forward and into the open, pulling him from the shadows he prefers to hide in.

He’s not quite sure what to do about that yet. So for now he slips into conversation with the kids about DnD. He listens to Hopper and Joyce regale him with stories he’s not yet even heard about Robin and Steve. When they later gather around to have cake, he ties his hair back and tugs you to his side so you can sit beside him when you place the cake down before him, candles flickering against the faces of those across from him.

He feels loved.

He feels undeniably and truly loved.

He inhales and wishes for this year to be the best one yet, and exhales hopeful that it will be.

The end of summer finds you sitting in the back of Eddie’s van with Eddie, Steve and Robin. Eddie’s gutted the thing, all his usual things cleaned out for now, and placed a makeshift bed of blankets beneath. Pillows are strewn about the place, creating the perfect outdoor movie watching atmosphere.

Robin and you have been left to your own devices as the guys collect your various drink and snack orders, staring out the mouth of the van up at the twinkling stars in the sky.

You don’t have those back home. The sky is always too congested, always obscured and blocking out their pretty light. Tonight, however, the sky is full with an endless sea of them.

“That one, right there,” Eddie says all of a sudden, popping up beside you on the back of the vehicle, “is Aquila…then look up, up, up— yeah, right there. That’s Cygnus.”

You turn to look at him, and the stars reflect in his eyes. You can hear Robin and Steve talking to your left, sure, but Eddie’s swallowing up all the air in the space.

All the attention.

“Are there any others?” You tip your head back up to the sky, feeling a flutter when Eddie’s fingers curl around your wrist and he unfurls your pointer finger.

“Okay, so a little bit to the right of Aquila is Hercules.” He drags your hand to the right, outlining the square-like shape in the center and the spindly, broken limbs from the four points. “Right to the left of that… is Lyra.”

He drags your finger to the left and points out the other small constellation, his breath dancing along your bare shoulder, making your breath come out in short puffs. His fingers unfurl from around your wrist and you shift a bit on your bottom, further away from Steve and Robin, your bent knee and leg hanging over the edge of the van bracketing Eddie in place.

He’s wearing a Metallica tank top tonight, and those dark jeans he favors, hair loose and wavy in the humid September air. He’s smiling at you, you realize, bright and open in the dimly lit space.

“How do you know so many constellations?” you probe, head tipping to the side.

You watch as his eyes drift back to the sky. With Steve and Robin so caught up in their own conversations and murmuring their need to go to the bathroom before the movie starts, Eddie regales you with a story about his parents. That his father had been in and out of jail his whole life, and that his mother always struggled because of it, seeking comfort in alcohol and other substances. At a young age, she actually ended up dropping him off at his Uncle Wayne’s house here in Hawkins and…never came back for him. It breaks your heart as he tells you. The idea that she could just leave the child she grew and loved within her own body at one time.

He tells you about those beginning years, learning to navigate each other's new spaces. The way his Uncle became a constant, when he’d been so used to people coming and going in and out of his life before that.

“My uncle and I got close. Like…ah, really close,” he admits softly, with the shyness of a young boy, shocking for the twenty-three year old man sitting before you. “That involved learning new things together. So there was a time where we’d sit outside and just look up at the stars with a book and see what we could find.”

“Your Uncle Wayne is really special,” you tell him, your voice soft even on your own ears. “I’m really happy you have him. He was…so wonderful when I met him.”

“Yeah, he’s…” He leans back onto his hands, chest parallel with the sky. From here you can see the soft outline of his face, the line of his nose, his jaw, the bump of his throat, the chains that rest in the hollow. “He’s really important to me. We’ve been through a lot together.”

You swallow thickly, the importance of this moment not lost on you. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Eddie.”

His palm slides across the van floor and you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when those fingertips brush your own. They just rest there, not seeking or holding, simply touching . Simply sharing in the closeness of proximity. You follow the trail of his forearm down to where your fingers lay, index tapping against his thumb, when Robin announces boisterously that the movie is about to begin.

Your group slides further into the mouth of the van. You settle down on Eddie’s right so you’re closest to the wall, hidden away from the rest of the group, your knees close to your chest as you watch the opening scenes spill across the screen, showing two young boys moving into a Santa Carla, California.

The Lost Boys is interesting enough and moves swiftly. The premise of vampires always seemed intriguing anyway, these creatures of the night not bound by the innate human morality code.

And as you get further into the movie and Michael finds himself drawn into David’s motorcycle gang because of his growing interest in Star, you lean over to Eddie and mutter, “You should be a vampire for Halloween. You dress like these guys on a daily basis.”

“Are you making fun of my clothing choices?” he asks, tugging at your forearm so you thump bodily against his shoulder.

“I’m just saying, it would be an easy costume,” you chuckle, just as Michael is offered some sort of wine that you most definitely know isn’t actually wine.

“Would you drink a random chalice like that?” he asks you. The sound of Star telling Michael not to do it greets your ears.

“Absolutely not,” you say, chuckling. “You know that boy is about to become a vampire. Easy.”

“You two!” Steve hisses loudly, making you jump from where you rest beside Eddie. “Stop with the chit-chatting! There’s a movie playing!”

A group of people in cars around you “shhh'' Steve, his hands lifting in exasperation. “I’m trying to get them to shut up and you’re all trying to get me to shut up? Come on, people, be grateful here!”

“Steven,” you raise your head from up where you’re hidden by Eddie, snorting when Eddie shoves your shoulder lightly. “Quiet down, there’s a movie playing!”

“This,” he says, pointing a finger between the two of you, “is a scary thing.”

None of you are able to ask what he means by that, because a worker with a flashlight comes by and gives you a final warning that numerous people have made noise complaints, and one more will result in your request for removal from the premises.

You’re giggling to yourself, shoulder against Eddie’s with your hand over your mouth as they walk away. His face presses near to your ear, his own laughing warm against your skin, as he whispers, “Thank you.”

Your head pops up in confusion, eyes clashing with his. “What for?”

“Just thank you,” he says, and there’s a poignant sincerity there that makes your chest ache with sudden sticky fondness.

You take that moment to shift closer to his side, your back against the side of his chest, his arm coming to drape around your shoulder. He’s warmth and comfort, protection from the chill of the soon to be fall air. And if you lean closer to him as the movie goes on, as Star and Michael explore the intimacies of their relationship in the background, he only pulls you closer, thumb brushing along your skin, gooseflesh jumping to life.

“To keep you warm,” he explains, cheeks growing darker, as he looks down at your cuddled up forms.

“Of course,” you reply, trying to hide your wry smile.

So while spring marked a new beginning, summer brought along with it warmth and the stirrings of something more.

You’re excited to find out what that something more is.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson post s4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 1 year

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Transfem Stevie who figures it out when she goes to a gay bar with Robin (post s3?) and meets another transwoman and has a Huh, you can do that? moment.

i sort of Went Off on this one lmaoo. bc im incapable of not steddifying everything this is now T4T Steddie 2: This Time They're Lesbians- with trans girl eddie cracking stevie's egg

PLEASE NOTE: this is set in the 80s, so they use kind of outdated terminology for trans people. also there's a d slur used in a positive, self-ID way. overall the vibes are good but the language is questionable. do with that what you will lol

When Robin asks Steve to be her ‘emotional support heterosexual’ (her words) for her first visit to an Indianapolis gay club, Steve prepares himself for a night of ‘hey, have you met my friend Robin’, pointedly not hitting on any girls, and politely declining offers of drinks and dances from guys until he’s buzzed enough to admit he’s curious. And so far, that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Robin’s off dancing with a girl after Steve assured her about ten times that he’d be fine on his own. He’s just debating whether or not his inhibitions are lowered enough to go dancing when his thoughts are interrupted by a voice to his right.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington.”

Steve turns, already cringing. Anyone who says his name with a tone like that is someone who is not going to be thrilled with seeing him in a gay club. The thing is, Steve has no idea who this person is. Can’t even really tell if they’re a guy or a girl. Their features are fairly masculine, all lean muscles and square chin, but they’ve got long, wild hair and heavy eye makeup. The cropped muscle tank with ‘Massive Dyke’ printed in lurid red muddies the waters even further.

“Oh, hey… uh…” Yeah, Steve’s pulling a complete blank. They look kind of familiar? He’s definitely seen them around. Somewhere.

They roll their eyes. “Not surprised King Steve doesn’t recognise me. Especially looking like this. What are you doing here?”

Steve sighs a little. “I’m here with a friend. She was nervous to come alone so I’m here for moral support and wingmanning.”

“Yeah, sure,” they scoff, and Steve frowns even more.

“Look, I know I was a dick in high school. And I’m genuinely sorry if I was a dick to you. But that was four years ago. I’ve grown up, and I’m here to be a good friend. Can you let me do that?”

The person blinks, and then looks a little sheepish. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair,” they say, before extending a hand. “And it’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Steve smiles and shakes the offered hand. “Oh, yeah! You ran that club my kids went to- dungeons and dragons, right? Cool to see you again, dude!”

Eddie’s face does a complicated little wiggle before- “Uh, not a dude, man.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m a girl, now. Still Eddie, though, it’s just short for Edith now. Have you heard of transsexuals?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m pretty new to this. I know, like. Five words.”

“Well, easiest way to put it is that I was born a guy, but I feel more like a girl, so now I’m, like, switching.”

“Switching…” Steve says, trying his best to look genuinely interested and confused. He generally doesn’t struggle too hard to look confused, but he’s a little worried Eddie will think he’s being a dick about it. “You can do that?”

Eddie snorts, gesturing down to herself. “Clearly.”

“Huh,” Steve says. Frankly, this is blowing his mind. “Why doesn’t everyone do that, then? Like, no one likes being a guy.”

“Ye- wait, what?”

“Like, the sexism of being a girl would suck, obviously. But everything else sounds great! Like, you get prettier clothes and you can wear makeup- and girls are so nice to other girls, I've always been kind of jealous of that.”

Eddie looks shocked, but Steve's on a roll now, almost forgetting she's there as he continues thinking aloud. “And like. Girls’ bodies are just. Better, y'know? Like what do guys have, muscles? Girls can have muscles too, but girls are just so… like, everyone wants boobs, right?”

Eddie has a strange look on her face. “I mean, I do. Because I’m transsexual.”

“When you’re transsexual, do you get boobs? Like, do you- wait, is that rude? I feel like I wouldn’t ask another girl about her boobs.”

Eddie’s silent for a moment, looking at Steve in bewilderment, before she seems to collect herself. She takes a swig of her beer and then smiles at him. It looks both welcoming and like she’s in on a secret, and puts Steve at ease. He can see why the kids were so obsessed with her in high school.

“You know what, ordinarily it would be kind of rude, but I have a feeling this conversation is… not what I thought it was gonna be,” she says, and Steve tilts his head a bit in confusion. “So yeah, I do have boobs. You can take estrogen as a little pill, and it basically does puberty for you again. You get boobs, a little extra fat on your hips and thighs, and your skin gets softer. Here, feel.”

And then Eddie takes Steve’s hand and slides it up her shirt. His brain immediately turns off. And yeah, there’s definitely a gentle swell there. They’re small, but Steve can feel the squish of them. Her nipples are pierced. Steve thinks he might die.

“Wow,” he squeaks, about five embarrassing octaves higher than his normal tone. “Cool!”

Eddie grins as she removes his hand from her tit. “Yeah, cool. I’d let you fondle them a little more, sweetheart, but they’re still growing. Kind of sore.”

Steve blushes, rubbing his hand on his thigh and desperately trying to will his boner down. “Man, I wish I could grow boobs,” he sighs, a little wistfully.

“You can, y’know,” Eddie says, with a little chuckle and a soft smile. “What’s stopping you?”

That. Steve hasn’t considered that. A hundred things come to his lips- he’s not like that, he’s not one of those- a hundred things that he knows are absolutely terrible reasons. If Robin were here she’d either be whacking him upside the head or giving him that really sad look she does whenever he’s mean to himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, speaking softly and laying a gentle hand on Steve’s knee. It shocks him out of his spiral as he looks up into her big brown eyes. “Y’know, I’ve got some makeup in my van. If you wanted to try some things out. No one here will judge you.”

“I- yeah,” Steve is breathless. “I’d like that. Uh- my friend-”

“Oh, is she real? I’ll be honest, I kinda thought you were doing the ‘oh I’m not gay I’m just here for a friend’ thing.”

Laughing, Steve looks out over the crowd. “No, she’s real. Let me just let her know I’ll be gone for a moment- honestly she’s probably halfway to third base with some girl anyway-”

And sure enough, Robin is more than ready to let Steve wander off once he peels her off a pretty girl on the opposite side of the club. He rejoins Eddie, who leads him down the street towards her van and helps him into the back. She takes out her makeup bag, cracking jokes about their wildly different styles while she delicately brushes powder over his face. She generously refrains from threatening to take his eye out with the eyeliner pencil (more than once at least), and apologises for not having anything more ‘babygirl’ than her bright red lipstick. Steve can definitely say this is the most fun he’s ever had in the back of a van.

Finally, masterpiece done, Eddie rummages in her bag for a little compact, presenting it to Steve with a dumb little bow. Steve takes it with a roll of his eyes, and prepares himself with a deep breath.

The person in the mirror is beautiful. Glowing skin, huge doe eyes lined with smokey eyeliner and lashes a mile long, practically sinful lips. Steve almost doesn’t recognise himself, except that he does. He really, really does, in a way he now realises he never really has before. It’s the first time he’s ever looked at his face in the mirror and not wanted to change anything.

“You’re a really pretty girl, Stevie,” Eddie says with a gentle smile.

Steve can’t look away from the mirror. “Yeah,” she says, a red-lipped grin stretching across her face. “I really am.”

#steddie #t4t steddie #transfem steve harrington #transfem eddie munson #stranger things #my fics

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estrellami-1 · 4 months

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If I Should Stay

I started out posting regularly, every 4 days. I’ve since lost all semblance of control. Hopefully I’ll regain at least a bit of it back soon.

Part 1 | . . . | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48

“Jesus fuck,” Steve breathes after it’s over and Eddie’s grabbed a cloth to wipe them down.

“There’s no Jesus here,” Eddie says, because he’s never met an intrusive thought he doesn’t at least try once.

Steve curls towards him, laughing into Eddie’s shoulder, and really, Eddie’s only human. He’s got Steve, naked and panting, this close to him. It’s not his fault if he gets a little… excited.

Steve notices, because of course he does, and raises an eyebrow at him. “Down, boy,” he jokes, and Eddie laughs as he turns onto his side, taking a moment to just look at Steve.

“How long did we know each other?”

Steve sighs. “Honestly? Only a few weeks, at most. We knew of each other before that, I was on the basketball team and you were very passionate about the balls in laundry baskets. And I know some of the guys gave you shit, which I’m sorry about. But you and I typically stayed out of each other’s ways.”

“And… you said we met because of Chrissy?”

Steve hums. “Yeah. She’d asked you about something stronger than weed, so you took her to your place, and that’s where Vecna got her. There’s nothing you could’ve done, and anyone with two brain cells knows you never would’ve killed anyone, but…”

“Trailer park trash is all they see,” Eddie nods. “And every cop in Indiana knows the name Al Munson. It’s not too surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising.”

Steve moves a hand up, covers one of Eddie’s with it. “Not this time,” he whispers. “I won’t let it happen.”

Eddie picks up the hand covering his and brings it to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the knuckles. He watches as Steve flushes pink. “Can I ask,” he says after a pause, “how you knew you liked me? If we’d only known each other a few weeks?”

Steve’s flush deepens. “It, uh. Kind of wasn’t just a few weeks, for me. I’d noticed you in school, but never knew what it meant. Then I met Robin, and there’s an entirely different story there—the Russians—but she’s how I realized that what I’d been thinking about hadn’t been entirely straight. And then you adopted Dustin into Hellfire. Actually, you adopted all of them, but Dustin was the most vocal. Kinda worshiped you. I got a little jealous. And then everything happened, and we met, and that’s when I kinda realized what all of it meant.” He suddenly frowns and pokes Eddie’s chest. “And hey, Lucas is on the basketball team, and you didn’t reschedule Hellfire so he could do both. That was a dick move, dude.”

Eddie giggles, because really, what the fuck is his life? “I apologize for my future self’s actions,” he says, lips twitching.

Steve chuckles too. “Sorry. I guess it’s not fair to be upset at you for something you haven’t even done yet.”

Eddie shrugs. “But I did do it. Or I will have. Fuck, this is complicated.”

Steve laughs. “What’s even more complicated is now that we’ve talked about it, you won’t do it.”

Eddie groans and buries his face in the pillow. “You’re breaking my brain.”

“Sorry,” Steve snorts, but he doesn’t sound sorry.

Eddie lifts a hand to flip him off. Steve grabs it and gently bites his middle finger.

Eddie slowly lifts his head to look at Steve, who’s staring at him with wide eyes. “What-”

“I don’t know.”

“What the fuck, dude.” Eddie starts laughing, and Steve joins in, shaking his head.

“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even think. I guess maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

Eddie grins at him. “That did happen, yes.”

Steve shoves him away and buries his own face in the pillow. “Shuddup,” he mutters.

Eddie chuckles again and scoots a little closer. “Steve?”

“Hm?” He lifts his face from the pillow. It’s a little bit red, and he has to blink a few times to focus, and Eddie thinks he’s beautiful.

“I’m glad we met. Even if it’s because of all of this.”

Steve gives him a small smile. “Me, too.” He yawns, then claps a hand over his mouth, mortified, as Eddie laughs and sits up.

“I think it’s bedtime for both of us,” he jokes. “Gonna be up bright and early tomorrow, right?”

Steve hums. “But if we don’t go to bed, then tomorrow will never come.”

Eddie shoots him a fond look as he tosses him a pair of sweatpants. “I wish that’s how it worked.”

Steve giggles. “Yeah. I’d just stay up every Sunday night until it’s Saturday again.”

Eddie nods. “You’d never have to go to school again.”

“Exactly.”

They share a laugh as they pull their pants on and Eddie gets back into bed before hesitating. “I guess I should’ve asked, is there- d’you, should I-”

“Stay,” Steve asks quietly, and Eddie smiles and pulls the covers up over both of them.

“Gladly.”

It’s silent for a moment before they both hear a sound coming from Steve’s room.

A scream.

El.

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#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #if I should stay #hehehehehehe 😈#fix it fic #time travel fic #time travel fix it #time travel fix it fic #starambles

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justmeinadaze · 5 months

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I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: I was going to release this later but it may be a week or so before I post anything written again because I'm moving. I was writing a lot more these past couple of weeks because I was avoiding packing lol Any way please enjoy the angst.

Warnings: Security Guards/Softly Dom Steddie X Sub Singer Fem reader, I AM PUTTING A DARK THEMES WARNING ON THIS! There is not smut but much angst dealing with addiction and overdosing. Y/N does have a slip and ends up in the hospital. There are talks about her ex and her parents involving trauma. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

My inspiration for this chapter was "Dancing with the Devil" by Demi Lovato so that should give you some idea of what you're heading into.

Word Count: 4538

“I’m here with Y/N Y/L/N a few months after her cancelled tour and I think I speak for everyone when I say you look amazing. How have you been?”

“Aw, thank you. I’ve been doing really well actually. I’ve been sober for about six months—”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s been hard but I’m trying.”, you giggle.

“We’ll we’re all routing for you and are extremely proud of you! Now Y/N, I have to ask, do you have any comments in relation to what your ex has been saying in recent interviews.”

Eddie growled low at the question and Steve quickly placed his hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“Um, I mean, Simon can say what he wants. Our relationship was tumultuous to say the least but I’m not allowing him to bother me anymore. I’m in a new healthy relationship and I’d rather focus my energy there.”, you softly smile as your eyes hastily shift their way before coming back to the interviewer.

“Oh my goodness. You are just wonderful. I love it. Do you have any news for us on a new tour or maybe a new album.”

“Right now, I don’t have any plans for another tour but I am working on some new songs so hopefully you guys will get to hear them soon.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye out and thank you for meeting with us today!”

“And we’re clear!”, a tech guy shouts and the interviewers smile promptly falls. “Oof I need a drink. Alright Y/N, thank you so much doing this.”

“No problem. Thank you for blind siding me with your question about my ex.”

“Hey, he wasn’t on the list of no go questions I got from your team and it’s not like I’m not going to ask when he’s blowing up every form of social media.”

Rolling your eyes, you stalk away from her and out of the studio into a hallway.

“Hey! You okay?”, Steve asks after they both follow you.

“Yeah. I can handle bitches like Becky Stone. I’m struggling a bit with Simon though.”

“I can understand that. Fucking dick has been everywhere since you started getting sober.”, Eddie sighs as he reaches up to pet your head. “You did really well out there.”

After checking your surroundings, you lean in and wrap your arms tightly around him.

“I’m so glad you both are here.”

***

Steve wakes up to the sound of music playing in their living room and you not between them. You had started spending a lot of time and nights at their house saying it made you feel safer. People didn’t know where they lived plus your house was littered with memories you were trying to heal from.

“Hey you. Why are you awake?”, he asked when he found you on their couch strumming your guitar.

“I just had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep so I thought I’d come hang out here.” You smiled as your eyes scanned over his nonprofessional demeanor. Most of the time they were on guard securing you so they were dressed well and alert. In calm moments like this, you found them to be the most attractive. Steve’s honey brown eyes radiated a softness you hadn’t seen in a while. Him in only his black sweats allowed you visual access to the muscles in his arms that made you feel safe and secure especially when he held you. His chest and stomach were always extremely kissable especially when you pressed your face into him after they would make love to you or when you were falling asleep.

When Eddie was at home and relaxed, he usually sauntered around in his boxers and a band shirt of some kind. Curling up in his warm embrace and broad chest was one of your favorite things to do as you kissed his neck and ran your hands along his skin under his attire.

You loved being able to let down your own guard with them and allow them to take care of you in more ways than one.

“You know you should really learn to play, Stevie. With those beautiful hands, you could have all the ladies swooning.”

“Oh?”, he chuckles. “What if I only want one girl to swoon over me?”

“For that you can just use your hands for other things.”

He laughs again when you wink and smiles before patting his knee for you come sit on. Placing your guitar to the side you, you go to him, and seat yourself horizontally in his lap, resting your head in the nook of his neck. His palm gently caresses your bare legs as his other rubs along your back.

“Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?”

“I don’t want to make you feel bad.”, you coo as your voice dips into that little girl tone telling him all he needs to know.

“Was it about Simon?” Steve kisses your forehead when you nod. “I can understand that. You went through a lot with him and his more recent need for attention isn’t helping. You know, though, we would never let him hurt you again, right?”

“I know, baby.”

He grins when you place your lips on his.

“Come on, honey. Let’s wake up Eddie and see if we can help get you to sleep.” You giggle when he stands up with you in his arms and carries you back to the bedroom.

###########

“God, I hate Becky Stone.”, Sarah sighs before taking a bite of her food you guys had brought her. “But you did phenomenal, Y/N.”

Grinning at her, you glance towards the boys who playfully smile back before Eddie gestures with his eyes towards your own food silently telling you to keep eating.

“I’m still working with our lawyer about Simon and getting a cease and desist but there’s only so much we can do because it’s just him flapping his gums, you know.”

“I know. I mean fuck him right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course, the three of us will do whatever we can to keep him away from you. Speaking of…”, she turns towards your security. “How did the interview go with Pearce Security? I know we’d hate to see you guys leave but that is an amazing company.”

Their wide eyes find yours as everyone freezes.

“Um, we think it went well. We haven’t heard back from them though.”

“Good. If they need a recommendation…or…anything…Y/N, are you ok?”, your agent asked as she gave you her attention. Your eyes were closed as your breathing became a bit more erratic. No, you were not ok; you were panicking. Sarah grabbed a pen off her desk and threw it in their direction. “You assholes didn’t tell her?!”

“We didn’t want to worry her if we didn’t get the job.”, Steve explained.

“Of course, you’ll get the fucking job. You both are good at what you do!”, you shout.

“Y/N, honey, breathe.”, Sarah tried to soothe. “You two leave and let her calm down.”

Nodding, they exit the office and wait in the lobby. An hour passed before your agent’s door finally opened and your seemingly calm demeanor sauntered out, swishing passed them as you headed for the elevator. They followed you silently till you got to their car in the parking garage.

“I would like you to take me home, please.”

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, Mr. Munson, I don’t pay you for your ideas. I pay you to secure me so, please, secure me home.”

“Really? You’re going to throw a tantrum and we’re not even going to talk about this?”

“Oh, Mr. Harrington? NOW you want to talk? Honestly, there’s nothing to talk about. I really hope you do get that job. You’re great at what you do. Hopefully, your next client isn’t someone that requires as much up keep as I did.”

“Y/N—”

“Mr. Munson, I don’t want to hear it—”

“Yeah but you will!”, Eddie interrupts. “This right here is exactly why we didn’t say anything. We knew you would take it personally when quite frankly, sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. This is our dream, Y/N. Just like with you and singing.”

“If we decided to take this job, we’d still be here for you, honey. You’re our girl. We…we love you, Y/N.”

Tears began to fall as you hugged your arms around yourself.

“People who say they love me abandon me or use me. Don’t love me. Just go and forget about me. You both deserve better than me anyway.” As you start to walk away, Steve grabs your arm but you promptly smack him before running.

Both men are hot on your trail before losing you as you jump into a cab and it speeds away.

##############

“FUCK!”, Eddie roars as he throws the pen he was using against the wall. “She’s so FUCKING STUBBORN! That’s a no on the hotel by the airport, Harrington.”

Both men had been hunting for you since you disappeared. Not playing games with them this time, you turned off your phone entirely so they couldn’t track you. They checked your house as well as any place you might normally be and had yet to find you. Currently they were calling every hotel in LA searching for any name they thought you may be under to no avail.

“Sarah’s right. We should have talked to her.”

“She’s still so fragile, Munson. We didn’t want to rattle her if we didn’t have to.”

“Oh yeah, Steve, because this is fucking better. Yeah! What?!” Eddie’s phone had vibrated to life with a number he didn’t recognize and he angrily answered without thinking.

“Heeeey Eddie.”

The metalhead’s head shot up as his eyes met Steve’s at the sound of your slurred voice, quickly putting you speaker.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, where are you?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be so nice to me anymore.”, you giggle but there’s a huskiness behind you tone that tells them wherever you’ve been you’ve been crying.

As soon as they realized it was you calling, Steve went to work trying to find you. Your phone was still off but the number you were calling from was local.

“Ok…you don’t want me to be nice?”, Eddie sighs as he switches gears shifting into his more dominate tone. “Tell me where you are now, little girl. You already scared us half to death. Now, where are you so we can bring you home.”

“Home… I don’t have a home… This is ma life, sweetie. Gah, what was I thinkin’ pretending to be sober?”

Steve grabbed the phone from his friend and handed him his own.

“Y/N, you weren’t pretending. You were doing so well. If you slipped because you’re scared that’s ok. We’ll still love you, honey.”

“Stop. Saying. That.”

“What? Telling you the truth? I LOVE YOU!”

“STOP!”

“I love you to, sweetheart.” Eddie flashes Steve his screen showing him the number that you’re calling him from IS from a hotel that’s not too far from them.

They pause when they hear knocking on your side of line.

“Y/N…Whose there with you, baby?”

“Don’t love me. I deserve…I deserve men like him. At least I know what to expect…”

“Y/N! Did you OD in there or what?! I’m all alone out here.”

“Y/N.”, Steve warns at the sound of Simon’s voice as his tone drops into a strong authoritative growl that pushes through your inebriated brain. “You are not safe with that man. Do you hear me? Tell me where you are NOW.”

“I can’t—”

“No. This is security Steve and Eddie talking to you. You are in danger. We know what hotel you’re at but we need the room. If you don’t tell me, I swear to God Y/N, we will kick down every door searching for you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes. I…I’m sorry.”

As soon as you give them the room number, they grab their keys, and run towards their car.

“Listen to me very carefully. Stay where you are and keep the door locked. We’re on our way.”

The sound of you heavily inhaling through your nose makes them cringe in anger. They weren’t angry with you but themselves. They should have been up front with you and told you everything; reassured you that if they did move on to a different job they’d still be there for you because they cared about you so much.

You started saying something to them but it didn’t make any sense.

“Y/N, you’re slurring too much. I can’t understand you, baby.”

Eddie pushed his foot on the gas as he sped towards the hotel. He knew what that meant and knew they needed to get to you.

“…I say…I…love…you.”

***

They don’t even bother knocking, the door banging open as Steve kicks it in.

“What the fuck?!”, Simon drunkenly hollers as he tries to get to his feet.

“Stay down.”, the boy warns while Eddie runs into the bedroom and pounds his palm on the bathroom door.

“Y/N, it’s Eddie and Steve, sweetheart. Open the door.” After counting to five with no answer, his boot connects the wood and it swings open. Finding you on the floor passed out, he collects you in his arms, and lightly taps your cheeks. “Y/N, open your eyes for me, pretty girl. Come on, now.”

“Yes, we need an ambulance now!”, Steve yells into the phone as he grabs your ex’s collar and forcefully shakes him. “What did she take?!”

“Jesus, I don’t fucking know. Get off me.”

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”, he shouts as he smacks him hard. “She didn’t have anything on her so whatever she took YOU brought!”

“Oh please.”, he slurs. “She fooled you with that sober routine? Small town whores like her never change. Trust me.”

Steve punches him in the face, throwing him to the ground before running to the bathroom and watching as Eddie rubs your back as you throw up in the toilet.

“I know. I know it hurts, baby. You have to get as much of it out as you can.” Collapsing into his arms again, you cried into his neck as he rocked you back and forth. “Good girl, princess. Stay with us, okay? Everything’s ok.”

##############

Sarah fiddles with a keychain on her keys as the boys and her wait to hear anything from the doctor. As soon as the guys called her, she ran down to the hospital sporting her jeans and a pajama shirt. Eddie had offered her his jacket which she appreciated.

What she didn’t appreciate, however, was when Jack (your ex-agent) sauntered in with a smugness that made all three of them want to hit him.

“Wow, Sarah. You had her for what, six months, and she ODed. Good job.”

“Fuck off, Jack. Why are you even here?”

“Because you’re going to need me for something this big. After six months of sobriety, she overdosed on a hotel bathroom floor with the ex who’s been badmouthing her to the press in the next room.”

“I think you forget; I was her publicist. I know how to handle the press and her image. To be honest, that’s the last thing on my fucking mind.”

“That should be the first. At this rate no one in this room is going to have a job. Either she’ll kill her reputation or herself.”

Eddie angrily rose to his feet to confront the man but Steve hastily grabbed his shoulder.

“Get the fuck out. She fired you, you’re not welcome here. Get. Out.”

“As far as I can tell, you two are the ones that shouldn’t be welcome. She’s never been this bad.”

“Oh please. She was worse before we came into the picture but you were too greedy on the money she was bringing in to notice. As long as she continued to sing and bring in income, you didn’t care how wasted she was!”

“Last time I checked, you boys are security. You’re not her father or boyfriend—”

“Sure, because men like Simon and their opinions about her matter so much more.”, Eddie growled. “And last time I checked, her father doesn’t care about her either. She needs people in her life who give a damn.”

“Yeah well, you can take that up with her parents because I called them.”

“You what?”, Sarah asked as she rose to her feet as well.

“She’s their daughter.”

“Since when?”, Steve accused. “That was not your call to make. Their judgements are the last thing she needs right now.”

“For Miss Y/L/N?”, the doctor calls as he comes around the corner.

As everyone moves forward, Eddie places his palm on Jack’s chest, stopping him and motioning for the security guard behind the nurse’s station.

“This man is not with our party and he has no family or relatives here. If you could escort him out we’d appreciate it.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO NEED ME, SARAH!”, Jack shouts as they drag him towards the exit. “This is about to get out of control!!”

***

“So, she’ll be ok?”, Sarah asks as she anxiously adjusts the blanket by your feet.

“Yes, ma’am. You got her here just in time it seems. Legally, we have to keep her for 72 hours for observation but even if we didn’t I would anyway. She had a lot of drugs in her system… I know she’s an alcoholic…Thankfully we didn’t find any in her stomach. I fear if she had been drinking…”

“She’s been sober for about 8 months.”, Steve murmured as his fingers reached down to gently caress your arm.

“I see. Well…slip ups are normal. Honestly 8 months without one is a quite a feat. She should be proud of that.”

“Knowing her, she won’t. She’s going to wake up and blame herself.”, Eddie sighed as his eyes scanned your sleeping face.

The doctor could only nod before he finally continued, addressing the boys.

“We do have security watching the doors to keep out fans and paparazzi. Is there anything else we should be aware of or people we should be on the lookout for?”

“That idiot we just threw out said he called her parents but they’ve never come to California before and I really don’t think they will now but I have a picture of them from her social media. I can give them to your security.”, Sarah confirms.

“Also this man…”, Steve flashes the doctor his phone. “Her ex is not allowed anywhere near her. If we can keep him out of the hospital entirely that would be great. He ran off before EMS arrived.”

“Simon Gates? That’s the one the police are looking for. Ok. We can do that. She’s safe here, guys. I promise.”

Eddie offers Sarah a chair after the doctor leaves but she shakes her head as she gathers her things.

“Now that I know she’s ok, I’m going to go home real quick and change. I’ll post a statement and get anything else from her house she may want. I assume you two aren’t going anywhere?” She grins when they nod. “Ok, good. I’ll be right back.”

As the door swings shut, the metalhead reaches out to touch your face.

“This is our fault, Steve.”

“Eddie—”

“Look at her!”, he hisses through his teeth. “Look at her. We should have told her the truth. We asked her to put her faith in us and we still fucking hid something from her.”

“I know! I fucking know but THIS is why I thought we didn’t tell her.”

“How do you think that made her feel?! That we didn’t trust her enough to handle news that involved our future, a future that we want her to be a part of!”

They glared at each other before turning in the opposite directions but the sound of groaning got their attention as they towards you.

“Hey. Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?”

Your eyes took in their worried exhausted demeanors as you remained silent.

“Honey, are you ok?” Again, no response as you shifted your gaze towards the wall behind them. “Y/N, baby, please. Talk to us. Tell us what’s going on inside your head.”

Sighing, each boy took a seat as you quietly began to cry.

***

“Uh, Mr. Munson?”, one of the guards called as he poked his head into your room. “There’s a man out here claiming to be your uncle.”

Flashing the man a quizzical look, he headed for the hallway, bewildered by the sight of his uncle who was leaning against the wall waiting.

“Wayne? Hey, what are you doing here?” Extending his arms, they hugged each other before Eddie nodded at the guard.

“I saw on the news Y/N was hospitalized so I came down as quick as I could. With the way you talk about her, I knew this would be hard so I didn’t want you two to be alone.”

“You didn’t have to do that but I really appreciate it. The doctor said physically she’s doing much better but she hasn’t said a word since she woke up. We’re concerned.”

After entering your room, Steve stands to shake the man’s hand as Wayne comes around to sit in the empty chair beside him.

“Sweetheart, this is my uncle Wayne Munson.”

Your eyes flick towards him for a moment before shifting them back where they were causing both men to glance towards each other nervously. As the night droned on, you listened to them talk to each other until a nurse arrived to check your vitals and bring you something to eat.

“Y/N, honey, you have to eat.”, Steve cooed as you stared at the tray in front of you silently.

“Hey, uh, boys why don’t you take a break and go get some coffee. Bring me a cup as well, hm?”, Wayne suggested giving the man pause.

Tugging on his sleeve, Eddie ushered his friend towards the door knowing that his uncle would keep an eye on you while they were gone.

“My nephew says you have an extremely beautiful voice. He would definitely know. Kid’s been into music since he was born. His mom used to rock him back and forth when he would cry and sing some old songs from musicals she loved.” Wayne’s eyes shifted towards you but as soon as they met yours you looked away. “There was one she used to sing all the time from that one movie with Olivia Newton-John and he would just giggle up at her.”

Rising to his feet, he nonchalantly removed the plastic around your fork and opened the can of ginger ale they had brought you, pouring it into your Styrofoam cup.

“You remind me of her a bit. She was such a strong woman… I remember once, when she found out she was pregnant, she asked me ‘Wayne, what if I fuck up?’ and I told her that if she did that’s alright. Nobody is perfect. As long as you keep trying and keep working to move forward…if you falter…then, sweetheart, it’s ok.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you absorbed what he was saying.

“My brother, Eddie’s dad, never tried. Even after my nephew was born and his wife passed, he just kept getting worse till he ended up in jail.”

Lifting your cup, he brings the straw to your lips and flashes you a small smile when you take a drink.

“God, I wish I could remember the name of the song his mom used to sing it was something like ‘But now there's nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside—”

“I'm out of my head…Hopelessly devoted to you…”, you sang in response making his grin grow.

It was just then that the two of you realized Eddie and Steve had been standing by the door watching everything unfold.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

############

That following morning, you still weren’t very talkative but the guys were content with the fact that at least you were eating and doing things the doctors suggested. Whenever there was lull in the room, Eddie’s uncle would talk to you about random things making you smile occasionally.

Commotion in the hallway, however, grabbed their attention as they slipped into security mode and commanded you both stay put. As they entered the hallway, a couple of photographers were being held back as doctors ran through with a gurney into an awaiting operating room.

“What’s going on?”, Steve asked in a firm tone.

“Police found the boyfriend. They’ve been trying to revive him but nothing is taking.”

“Ex-boyfriend. What do you mean revive him?”

“A friend of his called saying he passed out on their floor. They found much harder drugs than what your client had.”, the hospital security sighed.

“Shit.”, Eddie exhaled as well, walking with his friend back to your room only to find you both gone. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It doesn’t take them long to find you, skidding past an open door where you and Wayne were standing. The man kept a firm grip on your arm as you watched through the glass in front of you while nurses and doctors did what they could to save Simon.

“Honey, you shouldn’t see this.”

Steve reaches for your hand but you promptly yank it back.

“I’m not glass, Steven. You can stop treating me like any little thing is going to break me.”, you whisper.

“I see we’re back in our old mindset. Wayne, would you mind?”, Eddie asks as he gestures towards the door.

“I’ll be in her room. Be gentle, Edward.”, he warns making the metalhead nod.

“Sweetheart, this…”, he continues as he points towards your ex. “…this isn’t a little thing. Don’t treat it like it is. You need to feel what you’re feeling.”

“Stop. Stop talking to me like child.”

“Fine. Then let me talk to you like a boyfriend who loves you. That was you 36hrs ago… own it.”

“Y/N, you didn’t fail just because you made a mistake. You did the right thing by calling us and getting us to you. You could have been like him and ran but you didn’t. That’s a wonderful improvement. The old you would have been in jail or worse.”

Your head hung as you begun to cry and Steve gently reached out with his fingers to lift your chin.

“You deserve better than me.”, you reply in a hoarse voice.

“And you, baby, deserve better than this.”, he absently gestures around the hospital room. “The problem is you don’t believe it.”

Beeping fills your ears and the three of you turn just in time to see the machine flat line as the doctors in the room exhale heavily.

Your knees gave out and Steve quickly caught you, falling to the floor with you as he pressed your head to his chest. Eddie sunk down beside you, his hand petting your hair as they listened to you sob.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. Everything’s ok.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for everything. I love you…”

“Shhh. It’s ok, Y/N. We love you to. We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

Series here

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