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#no one notices how mean eddie is to steve
morganbritton132 · 2 days
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Someone on TikTok posted a video that’s like, “I think Eddie Munson has a Tumblr account.”
Their evidence? A clip from a video Mike posted complaining about being dragged out of the house at ass o’clock in the morning to go hiking. In the background you can hear Eddie say, “It’s fucking wimdy out here.”
Someone stitched their video with one of Corroded Coffin on a podcast like, “I think you’re onto something.”
In the clip, Eddie’s reading out the instructions for a game but fucks the entire sentence up. He pauses, takes a breath, and then mutters, “How dare you say I piss on the poor” and then begins again.
Someone else stitches the original video with the most damning evidence of all. They’re at the grocery store and go up to Eddie. They ask for his autograph and tell them that his music means a lot to them, and Eddie is really receptive and nice.
She notices his rainbow shoestrings and says, “Oh, those are cool. I like your shoelaces.”
Eddie says, “Thanks, I stole th-“
“Eddie!” Steve shouts from the checkout lane, “C’mon, we have ice cream!”
“Sorry, gotta go. Nice to meet you.”
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steventhusiast · 2 days
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STWG prompt 17/4/24
prompt: "oops, that wasn't the plan"
pairing/character(s): steddie
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Steve's in the middle of squinting as he scans a library shelf for the textbook he needs when he gets rudely interrupted. A body crashes into him with nearly enough force to knock him over, and he only just manages to catch himself on the library shelves in front of him (with only a few casualties in the form of fallen books).
"Oops!" He hears from right behind him, way too loud for where they are. Sure, they're not in the silent study area, but it's still a library. Sudden noises are pretty noticeable.
Once he's recovered, he looks around the university library to see a few people's unimpressed eyes looking in his direction from their study desks. He feels heat rise from his chest to his cheeks at their attention, and suddenly flustered anger is coursing through him, because-
"What the hell?" He whisper yells, spinning around to face whoever had bumped into him.
He's about to start whisper yelling some more at whoever caused this, but then he sees who's stood in front of him, and- shit. He's hot.
Bright red, and with black curly hair up in a messy ponytail stands a guy around his height, with an expression Steve can only describe as mortification on his face. He's dressed in the student go-to late-night library session attire (university branded hoodie, sweatpants and shoes that are somewhere between slippers and clogs), and he's clutching something in one hand as he stares wide-eyed at Steve.
They stare at each other for a moment, and just as Steve's starting to get a little uncomfortable with it and opens his mouth to, once again, ask what the hell, the guy opens his own mouth and rushes out some hushed words.
"That wasn't the plan, I swear." He says nonsensically, and Steve just frowns at him.
"I'm sorry?"
"I'm doing this all wrong." The guy mutters to himself, and suddenly crouches down to pick up the books that had fallen off the shelf.
He seems to use the time facing the ground to collect himself, because once he's stood upright again with the pile of books held in front of him he offers Steve a shy smile.
"My name's Eddie, and you are, just... so attractive and I've been wanting to come and talk to you for, like, an hour, and maybe give you my number? But then, I'm a total clutz, so- so I tripped and almost knocked you over instead. I am so sorry about that, by the way." His nerves seem to come back as he talks, because Steve notices his fingers tap anxiously at the bottom of the book-pile.
Steve's a little stunned by the onslaught of words, and must take too long to respond because Eddie winces after a moment and shakes his head as he averts his eyes.
"This was stupid. I'm so sorry for interrupting your night, you're probably cramming for a test or something." Eddie offers him a wounded smile this time, glancing at his face again, and then makes to turn and walk away.
"Wait- no. You can- um. I would love your number. Sorry, you caught me off guard." Steve says quietly, and Eddie stops moving, eyes going wide again. God, his eyes remind Steve of Bambi.
Steve takes a deep breath and tries to find the charisma he swears he usually has when he's not ambushed with an unexpected hot man.
"I mean, how else will I know how to contact you when I sue you for damages?"
He says it with a smile and a teasing eyebrow raise, but Eddie looks panicked at the words, like that's somehow something he's genuinely worried about, so Steve raises the hand he'd caught himself on the shelves with to show off the slightly reddened base of his palm.
"I'm mortally injured over here, I hope you have good insurance."
Finally, Eddie huffs out a surprised laugh, and the smile stays on his face once he quietens. It's a very pretty smile, much better than the nervous one he was wearing before.
"Right. Well, luckily for you I have my contact details ready to go for situations like this." He says, and (with a little fumbling to reposition the books he's holding) offers Steve an incredibly crumpled up piece of paper.
Steve unfolds it to find a phone number scrawled out, with a ridiculous drawing of a stick figure holding a landline and a speech bubble saying 'call me!'. He carefully folds up the piece of paper, pointedly pockets it, and offers Eddie another smile.
"Thanks, I will for sure be calling later. I just- I am cramming for a test, you were right. So..." He trails off, a little unsure and awkward again.
Eddie just nods, still grinning, and makes to turn around again.
"I'm looking forward to it." He says, and then walks off, ridiculous tower of books still in his hands. Steve watches him go, and then takes a deep breath and looks back at the shelf.
How the fuck is he going to focus on studying now?
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Single Blind Study
Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington
Word Count: 3k
Based on this prompt, originally by @stillgoingsteddie
Summary: After Steve and Eddie have discussed their fun times with the reader between themselves, they want to know who's the better lay.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Blindfolds. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V. Multiple partners.
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"What is happening exactly?" you ask, your pulse picking up as Eddie's nimble fingers tie his bandana over your eyes. "You guys weren't really all that specific when you said you wanted to hang out."
"I suppose you could call it a trust experiment," answers Steve, sitting next to you as he pats your thigh.
Eddie snorts. "Experiment is a good word for it."
"But," Steve insists, "a good chunk of this is about trust, sweets. Eddie and I have been thinking, and talking."
You chuckle. "That's never a good thing."
Eddie gives your head a gentle shove when he finishes tying the bandana, muttering an amused "smartass" under his breath.
His weight shifts on the couch as he settles in, at the same time Steve is moving forward, seemingly kneeling before you.
"Do you trust us?" he asks, his hands on either of your knees.
Your hand lands on one of his, your fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "I'll trust you more when you actually tell me what's going on. Why am I not allowed to see?"
"Okay, here's the deal," Eddie says, scooting closer to your side; you feel his warmth through his jeans, his thigh pressed against yours as Steve's hands move from your knees up to your hips. Your body tingles in response to their touches, waiting in earnest for their explanation. "Though, full disclosure, we were kinda high when we started talking about this."
You snort. "When aren't you kinda high, Eds?"
"Get to the point," Steve says impatiently, thwacking Eddie on the knee. He offers a gentle apology to you as he caught your knee with the reproach, too.
"So, we were having a conversation the other day about how you and I have done the horizontal tango before and how you and Steve have also..."
"Fucked each other's brains out," Steve finishes, his fingertips gripping into your hips for a moment.
"Oh?" is all you say.
It's no secret between the three of you that you've opened yourself up physically for them both. It all started on a boring summer day last year while you and Eddie were waiting for Steve to get home from work. The two of you started talking about past experiences, and one thing led to another. Shortly after, Steve was lamenting another failed dating attempt, and you found yourself on his lap in his car after you dropped the kids off at the arcade. Since then, whenever the fancy struck you, or Eddie, or Steve, it was a given that you'd roll around in the sack together.
The images of either one naked and writhing under you, above you, behind you, moaning your name, hands all over your body stream through your mind, tingling through your bloodstream and straight to your core.
"We started comparing notes," Eddie continues, his tone getting softer as he moves closer to you; you feel his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.
"What notes are we talking about here?" you ask.
"Things you like, things you don't like," Steve begins. "What you sound like, what you look like."
"And weirdly enough, there's a few discrepancies we noticed," Eddie says.
"Yeah, like we both know you like to fuck in public," Steve says, "but for whatever reason you and I only fuck in the car in public, but with Eddie..."
"Dressing room at JC Penney's, movie theater, in the middle of a show at the Hideout, I could go on..."
You can hear Eddie's grin as your body heats up, remembering especially the night at the Hideout where he took you up against the wall with a full crowd around you.
"Steve, do you wanna fuck in more places?" you giggle, pressing your thighs together for just a little bit of friction.
"No," he says before he grumbles. "I mean yes, but that's not the point of this conversation."
"The point is, Steve and I compared notes about you," Eddie says, "but we don't know how we compare. I would say that some of our experiences match up, but there's not enough information to tell which of us fucks you better."
"Ooohhh," you reply. "So, you want me to just tell you about it? I can do that. Don't see what the point of the blindfold is."
"Nah, sweetheart," Eddie says. "This is more of a live comparison."
It takes a second, but as soon as the idea clicks, your body floods with arousal. Your tongue slips over your lips as you imagine what's to come, and you feel your cunt squeeze in anticipation.
"Right," you say after a steadying breath, "but why the blindfold?"
You can practically hear their smiles as they each take one of your hands into theirs.
"It's a proper single blind study," Steve said. "We're taking away some factors that might influence your decision making."
“We’re gonna watch in real time,” Eddie adds. “We’re gonna watch which one of us makes you feel better.”
Heat floods your body, the pulsing between your legs ticking up exponentially. Your heart pounds at the thought; you’ve never had both of them at the same time. Not that you’d never thought about it before, you just figured that it wasn’t necessarily something that they’d go for. But now, the opportunity of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fucking you simultaneously has arisen, and you have never been more up for anything in your life.
“One thousand percent yes,” you say, nearly stumbling over your words in your enthusiasm. “I would love to participate. Please, yes.”
“Told you she would, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles, and you hear another thump that could be Steve punching him on the shoulder.
“Alright, then,” Steve says. “Stand up, sweetheart.”
You follow the direction, getting to your feet as they hold onto your hands for support. With your other senses on alert as your vision is obscured, you finally notice that neither of them is wearing cologne, but they’re both possibly wearing the same deodorant. With their intentions bared, it makes sense; knowing their scents like you do would be a dead giveaway. Now that you think about it, both had also been cleanly shaven, no stubble on their cheeks to give either away. Even now, you're realizing Eddie wasn't even wearing his rings.
“Strip,” Eddie commands gently.
Your shirt comes off first and you drop it to the couch, the boys humming in appreciation.
“I might need some help with this bra,” you say, feigning helplessness. “Would one of you gentleman want to give me a hand?”
At once, there’s a pair of hands at your back that unhook the clasp as another pair slips the straps from your shoulders. The boys are just as needy as you are it seems, wanting to touch you in anyway they can. If only you had been there for their conversation about you, to hear their comparisons, and how you turn each of them on. With your tits on display, you feel your nipples pebble at the thought of each one being suckled by a different mouth, a different tongue swirling over the sensitive buds.
“God, these tits,” you hear Eddie groan, and you smile.
“The shorts next?” you say with the same faux helplessness.
Someone’s fingers tug at the button and zipper of your shorts before yanking them down your legs.
“Wait,” Eddie says, “didn’t I rip those panties off of you at the carnival that one time?”
“I bought her a new pair,” Steve answers. “Those are her favorite. Also… at the carnival?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies, “we fucked on the Ferris wheel. That little mini skirt she was wearing drove me insane.”
You feel Steve pull you close, getting a gentle grip on your jaw as he directs your face to his. “We are fucking in more places, you hear me? I want to fuck you on a Ferris wheel.”
“Anywhere you want, Stevie,” you giggle, rolling onto your toes to press your mouth to his, but he doesn’t let you.
“Not yet,” he directs, pressing on your shoulders to get you onto solid footing.
You feel Eddie’s fingers grip the lacy panties you wear, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out of them. You hear him inhale deeply and you know for damn sure that Eddie just sniffed those panties.
“I’m tucking these away,” you hear him say.
“Don’t ruin those, too,” Steve replies quickly.
“Before you sit back down though,” Eddie says, changing the subject; you can hear his belt unbuckle, sliding through the loops on his jeans as he tugs it free. “We gotta make sure your hands are tucked away nice and safe so they don’t touch anything.”
“Why can’t I touch anything?” you counter, almost whiny in your inquiry.
“Well,” Eddie says, turning you around, looping his belt around your wrists, “it’s safe to say that there are definitive differences to the way me and Steve feel. Our hair feels different, our bodies feel different. You gotta remember this is a blind study and you’re not entirely blind if you can still use your hands.”
He guides you gently to the couch, making sure your hands are tucked carefully behind you. You get comfortable, listening to the rustle of their clothes as they strip, too.
“How are you that hard already?” you hear Steve gripe.
Eddie chuckles. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet.”
“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m probably wetter than I’ve ever been right now.”
“Don’t make it worse, babe,” Steve replies. “Can’t wait to get into that pussy.”
“You’re telling me,” Eddie agrees.
“Now, one of us is gonna start,” Steve explains. “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”
“How are you gonna figure out who goes first?” you say, but they’ve already gone into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissor, and you laugh. Best two out of three and they’re mum as to who won. You listen for any clues at all, anything that might give away the identity of who is about to please you, but it seems they’ve covered all their bases.
Neither of the boys speak, but you feel a hand on your knee as someone kneels before you, spreading your legs wide. The mystery man exhales before running a finger between your dewy lips, stopping to rub your clit gently.
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, relief at finally being touched warming your core.
Two fingers slide into you, slowly pumping to get you started. Your restrained hands clench behind your back, eager to touch the one touching you, but instead, you simply moan, widening your legs to give him better access.
He continues, not making a single sound but the one his fingers make pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you keen as he begins to curl his finger against your G-spot, pressing harder on your clitoris as you squirm beneath his touch; he quickens his speed, listening to your body as it nears climax. “I’m so close… oh, fuck me…”
Your cunt squeezes his fingers before releasing with an orgasm, your body twitching as ride out the high.
You haven’t even begun to come down from that one before he hitches your legs over his shoulders and leans in, his tongue lapping up the mess he made with his hands. While this may be a classic Eddie move, you’re confused by the fact that you don’t feel his hair on your thighs. He must have pulled it all back for the experiment, but there are other ways to tell that it’s him.
He always grips your thighs with his callused guitarist’s fingers, pulling them apart to fit his head between your legs. His tongue lingers in your hole, dancing with the nectar that drips from you. When he’s satisfied, he glides along to your clit, lapping with the whole tongue before teasing it with the tip. He winds you up and you writhe beneath him, whimpering as the grip of another orgasm threatens to take over.
“Fuck, yes!” you nearly shout as he doubles down, coaxing that climax from you; your body shudders, ecstasy coursing through every vein. Your thighs clench around his head, your feet scrabbling to pull him closer to you.
The mystery man - presumably Eddie - pulls away shortly after, though, taking with him a whimper from your lips as he leaves.
It's not long, though, until you feel a pair of hips bumping against your thighs, spreading them apart once again. The hard tip of a cock tickles your heat, gliding up and down before notching into your entrance. Slowly, he enters, spearing through you until he's fully seated and your chest heaves with a satisfied sigh. He stays there, stretching your pussy as his thumb presses against your clit.
"Move!" you demand, hardly able to take the anticipation of waiting. "Please, fuck me!"
At once, he rears back, almost exiting you before he slams back in again. A moan dances from your lips as he enters a rhythm, steadily splitting you wide open with every thrust. His thumb still plays with your clit, tightening the coil in your belly as he circles it. You moan again, your body bouncing as his hips slam your ass.
You wrap your legs around Eddie's waist - you'd know that slutty little waist anywhere, especially between your legs - and he responds; keeping his thumb on your clit, the rest of his hands splay out over your hips, gripping you as his rhythm quickens. You grin, knowing damn well he's close to finishing.
Your cunt throbs, so close to a climax that you can practically taste it. With just the right stroke, you burst, ecstasy spilling down to the very tips of your limbs and back before you're suddenly empty.
He strokes himself above you, trying so hard not to make a sound as he spurts onto your belly.
You lay back on the couch, your chest rising and falling with hurried breaths before he pulls away.
"Oh!" you say, surprised when the next body takes his place and bends over you, running his tongue along the mess on your skin.
Bold of Steve to do so, you wouldn't have expected it of him.
Before you can say anything, however, he presses his fingers into your pulsing heat, drawing a moan from you as he massages your g-spot. He meets your lonely clit with his finger tips, not circling like Eddie would, but keeping a steady back and forth rhythm. It isn't long before he pulls the orgasm from your writhing body, overstimulated but basking in every minute of too much ecstasy.
Steve doesn't stop, though, leaning forward and lapping at your clit. He's hungrier than usual, seemingly rushing through his usually thorough routine of getting you off. His free hand grips your thigh open, his fingertips pressing into your flesh.
"Fuck," you sigh, making to move your arms and forgetting they're tied by Eddie's belt.
Your hips press up the closer your climax comes, wriggling against Steve as he brings you to a swift orgasm.
"Give me your cock," you moan after a spell and, on command, you feel him slip inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just as much as Eddie did.
Steve is definitely impatient, not teasing you like Eddie had, but getting straight to the point; his hips slam against your ass like he'll never be able to fuck you again as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. You wrap your legs around him too, his body a little thicker than Eddie's.
"Yes," you gasp, growing closer to your next orgasm.
Like he's conditioned at this point, Steve's fingers find your clit again, pressing on it until you squeeze around him, moans dancing through the air from your mouth. He must think you can't hear him with all the noise you make, but he whimpers almost imperceptibly as he pulls out of you, his spend joining Eddie's on your tummy.
It's almost dream-like, the way your head swirls; you couldn't see a thing but your boys had you going like they've never done before.
"Okay, babes," you hear Eddie say, close to you. You feel his hands wrap around your head to relieve you of your blindfold. "There are those pretty eyes."
You blink against the light of the room, opening your eyes to see your boys head-to-toe naked, both with their hair pulled back. Eddie is standing close to Steve now, his cock hard once more. Steve's cock, on the other hand, is taking a well-deserved rest.
"Well, if I didn't know already, I definitely know now," you say with a giggle.
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie.
You point to Eddie's member. "If Eddie would've just finished he wouldn't be hard like he is right now."
Both their gazes aim for Eddie's dick.
"Okay," Eddie says, "but who was better?"
"What do you mean if you didn't know before?" Steve asks at the same time.
You sit up, allowing Eddie to remove his belt from your wrists. Steve picks up the discarded bandanna and cleans your tummy of the come.
"Eddie's a guitarist," you state simply. "His calluses gave him away almost instantly."
Eddie looks at his hands like they've betrayed him, then wraps one around his erection.
"Honestly," he says, "watching Harrington go at you was probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Not to mention, he licked my jizz off your stomach, babes."
"I was trying to throw her off," Steve says defensively. "I thought maybe she would think it was you licking my jizz."
"You want me to lick your jizz, Stevie?" Eddie teases, wiggling his tongue at him.
Steve seems to consider it for a moment before you pop in.
"The next person to say 'jizz' gets a beating. And not the fun kind."
"Seriously, though," Steve says, lowering to the couch next to you. "Who was better?"
The two look at you expectantly, each one eager to hear their name, but you can't let them have that satisfaction. A wicked grin pulls your lips toward your ears.
"Well," you say. "I can't decide."
"What?" they say together.
"We're just gonna have to keep studying, I guess."
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blushweddinggowns · 3 days
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Robin sat right down, sighing, “So what? We all live in the woods and hope the kids find us?”
“They will,” Steve reassured, “Lucas is probably getting help as we speak. Besides, it’s not that cold out. We’ll be fine. And if they don’t find us, we’ll find them.” 
Nancy nodded, despite the fact that she was already shivering. But Steve noticed. He didn’t even hesitate to take his own jacket off. 
She frowned, as he draped it over her shoulders,  “But what about you?”
“I have a sweater and an Eddie blanket,” Steve smiled, “I'll be just fine.”
“Speaking of that…” Eddie trailed in, “How about Steve and I go a little bit away and keep watch?”
Chrissy knew Jason was losing it, but she was 100 percent confident he was busy dealing with his murdered friend. She frowned, “Do you really think they’ll come after watching their friend die-”
“Yeah, you two go do that,” Robin interrupted with a sigh. She turned to Chrissy, “They want to make-out and save us the headache. We’re almost certain to be good for the night.”
“We'll be back soon,” Steve said, a slight flush to his cheeks but he didn’t correct her, “And we won’t go far.”
“Within an hour,” Nancy warned, “And keep quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said flippantly, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “You won’t even miss us.”
They walked away into the darkness, leaning into each other as they went. Chrissy was pretty sure she saw Steve stick his hand into Eddie’s back pocket before they were out of sight. 
“It’s actually insane that they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Robin said as she watched them go, “I only found out because I saw them shoving tongues in a parking lot. But once you know, you can never unsee it.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner,” Chrissy sighed as she sat to Robin’s left, Nancy taking the right, “Did they really trick all of you?”
“All of us,” Nancy confirmed through a yawn, “They can actually be pretty sneaky when they want to be. They just never want to be.”
Nancy rested her head against Robin’s shoulder, Steve’s jacket wrapped tightly around her, “We should sleep.”
“We will,” Robin said quietly, “But don’t wait for us. Go right ahead.”
Nancy gave her a little smile, “If you say so.”
It barely took a few minutes for her to be completely out. She looked so peaceful, so much younger when she was asleep. Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was a small girl, but she had so much presence. 
“She looks so much bigger when she's awake,” Chrissy mumbled quietly, “Like she can take on the world.”
“She probably could,” Robin laughed, “I think it’s all personality.”
“I know. I wish I could be like that.”
“Why?” Robin asked, furrowing her brow, “You’re literally perfect.”
Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at that, “How on Earth am I perfect?”
But Robin didn’t look like she was joking, “Dude you are. You’re so sweet and fun. You’re talented, athletic, pretty, but still nice somehow. You’re brave as hell, if this whole scenario stands for anything. And you’re hot when you punch dudes in the face.”
That was almost too sweet for Chrissy to hear. But she couldn’t help but zero in on one thing, “You think I’m hot?”
Robin froze, opening and closing her mouth as she stuttered, “I-No? I mean, yes? I-objectively yes. Not creepily.”
Chrissy smiled, her heart beating a little faster at the implication. But… Jason. She felt so bad for him. After what he’d seen, it made sense to blame them. But it only made sense now. There was no framework to understand what was happening before and to just blame Eddie and Nancy for everything was ridiculous. She’d never seen him like that before, so out of sorts. He was so good at keeping his temper undercheck, she didn’t get what was happening to him.
But… she had been pretty clear hadn’t she? She didn’t leave with him, she never even tried. She told him to go home, that she didn’t need him, she didn’t want him. It… it was close enough to a break-up wasn’t it? Chrissy wasn’t sure. Though she had a feeling even thinking of things the way she was made her a bad person. 
It just didn’t stop her from blurting, “I-I count tonight as breaking up with Jason. Just so you know. We um, we were never that close but my mom- she likes his family a-and… he used to be nice. He is nice but he’s… it doesn’t matter. We aren’t together. Just um, so you know. If you didn’t.”
She wanted to say more but… Chrissy could only be so brave in one day.
“I was um,” Robin swallowed, her face already red, “I was hoping that was the case. Because you deserve to be happy and I don’t…. I don't think he could do that.”
“He couldn’t,” Chrissy said softly, inching her fingers slowly to intertwine with Robin’s. She felt okay, as okay as she could be with the circumstances-
“Mmph!” 
Chrissy nearly jumped at the sudden noise, the only saving grace was that she definitely recognized it as Eddie’s voice. 
“Are they okay?” Chrissy asked nervously, staring out into the darkness. But Robin didn’t seem worried, she just gave Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
“I wouldn't check if I were you,” Robin sighed, “If they get loud again I'll throw a rock in their general direction. But they are fine. Trust me.”
from the newest chapter of this fic
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dacrekayd · 2 years
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someone make a fic about eddie not trusting that steve is actually a good guy who wants to be friends (and more) and keeps being a dick to steve out of self preservation and no one noticing how much steve is hurting and how he’s slowly pulling away from them and retreating into himself bc he knew it he knew he wasn’t good enough he knew he’d never be good enough for anyone not his parents not nancy not his stupid high school friends and definitely not eddie fucking munson who looks at steve like he’s the scum at the bottom of his boot and calls him King Steve, and Your Highness in the most derogatory way he can manage but it’s never Just Steve and it makes steve feel so so small and he’s just so tired and emotionally rung bc he really liked eddie and he really thought they could’ve had something amazing and soft and sweet and he’s just so heartbroken that this amazing man hates him so goddamn much
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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Modern au where Steve notices eddie goes to sleep with earbuds even when Steve is staying over. He’s never been able to see what it is Eddie is listening to and Eddie’s never told him either. One night steve just gives up to his inner nosey bitch and leans over a sleeping eddie to unlock his phone and finds YouTube video playing called ‘SUBLIMINAL SLEEP TRACK “I AM A DRAGON” GUARANTEED RESULTS’
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lunar-years · 2 years
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steddiealltheway · 2 months
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Eddie chronically leaves his rings at Steve’s place to the point that Steve checks the bathroom and kitchen sink every time after he leaves, only to find one of them there every time.
Not that Steve is entirely complaining since this means he gets to call him and Eddie gets to stop by on his own to pick them up.
But when they’re at the Wheeler’s place, and Eddie says he’s going to the bathroom, Steve says, “Be careful not to leave one of your rings behind,” with a wink that has the kids exchanging confused looks. But Steve doesn’t notice because he’s too distracted by the light blush coloring Eddie’s cheeks.
“Why would Eddie leave one of his rings behind?” Dustin asks Steve when Eddie’s out of earshot.
Steve laughs. “He leaves one behind every time he washes his hands I swear. I don’t know how he hasn’t lost one at this point.” But his amusement is quick to die down when he realizes the kids are staring at him as if he’s absolutely insane. “What?”
They all glance at each other, and Steve is surprised when Mike is the first to pipe in, “He never leaves them anywhere. They’re like his prized possession. I’ve never even seen him take them off.”
Steve frowns and glances around at everyone, sensing that there’s definitely something he’s missing, so he’s quick to lie, “Well, I guess it was only once or twice that it happened. Maybe it was my fancy soap. Made things too… slippery.”
He gets a few eye rolls at the comment, but the group is quick to move on especially when Eddie comes back a few moments later with all his rings on his hands.
Steve gives him a quick smile, and Eddie is quick to return it, eyes lingering on him for a few seconds longer than necessary and the same blush from earlier returning.
It hits Steve very suddenly.
The rings are an excuse to come back.
And with this knowledge, Steve’s let’s his own gaze linger on Eddie longer than he usually allows, moving into his space more often than not, and carefully keeping track of time, waiting for the hang out to end.
When it finally comes to a halt, Steve is quick to say his goodbyes, hoping that Eddie will join and let the kids have their unnecessarily prolonged goodbyes in private. And luckily, Eddie is quick to move out of the basement, following after Steve in a way that’s supposed to look causal but is anything but casual now that Steve knows to look for the signs.
When he and Eddie silently go out the front door, Steve is quick to turn to him and hold out his hand. Eddie gives him a confused look but offers his hand which Steve takes and slides one of the rings off of.
Eddie stares at it for a moment, looking slightly frightened, as if he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
Steve is quick to soothe the fear as he pockets the ring and says, “Just so you’ll have an excuse to stop by later tonight.”
Eddie’s cheeks flush bright red and he runs a hand over his face. “Shit.”
Steve laughs, “So it has been on purpose?”
“No,” Eddie clearly lies, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face.
“And what if I told you I wanted it to be on purpose?” Steve asks.
Eddie freezes for a moment as if he’s waiting for Steve to tell him that he’s joking, but Steve sits in the silence, letting the question settle between them.
“Then,” Eddie starts, taking a small step forward into Steve’s space, “I would-”
The door behind them bursts open and Dustin yells, “Hurry up I have a curfew!” as he races off to Steve’s car.
Steve rolls his eyes at the kid and takes a step back as everyone else makes their way out the door to the cars or their bikes.
Steve and Eddie linger behind for a moment, which Steve uses to quietly ask, “I’ll see you tonight?”
Eddie gives him a bashful smile in return and nods. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”
Steve resists the urge to celebrate in any way in front of the kids and instead puts his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around Eddie’s ring.
As he gets into his car, ignoring Dustin bitching and complaining, he slips the ring over his finger and smiles at it.
He notices the car go quiet and he nearly groans at his mistake.
“Is that Eddie’s ring?” Dustin screeches.
It’s going to be a long drive home, but Steve doesn’t mind when he has Eddie to look forward to.
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steviesbicrisis · 6 months
Text
A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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rebelspykatie · 7 months
Text
Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 
The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 
But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 
So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 
Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 
He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 
Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.
After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 
Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 
He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 
He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.
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unclewaynemunson · 9 months
Text
It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.
He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.
As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.
-----
When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.
He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.
"Hey there."
And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.
"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"
Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?
"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."
For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.
"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"
Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.
"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.
"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.
Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.
"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.
"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"
"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."
"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.
"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."
"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"
"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"
Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.
With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.
"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."
"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"
"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"
Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.
"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"
"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"
Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."
"What if we take turns?"
He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.
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hellfirenacht · 2 months
Text
Candygram
Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw
4.8k Words Master List
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“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 
Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 
You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 
“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 
“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 
“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 
“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 
“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 
“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”
“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 
“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”
You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 
During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.
You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 
Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 
“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”
“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 
“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 
“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”
Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 
“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 
“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 
“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”
“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”
“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 
“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”
And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”
“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 
---
Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 
No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 
He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 
“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 
“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”
More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 
Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 
And nothing else. 
You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 
Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 
It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.
That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 
---
“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 
“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”
“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 
“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”
Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.
Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 
By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 
“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 
He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 
Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-
You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 
Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 
Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 
A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 
You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 
Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 
Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 
“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 
You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 
The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 
“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 
Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 
To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 
Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 
“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 
“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 
“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”
You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 
Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 
Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 
But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 
Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 
“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 
“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”
“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 
“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 
After that... well, the ball is in his court. 
Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 
“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”
“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”
“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”
“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 
“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 
“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”
“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 
You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?
---
“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 
He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 
Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 
One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 
Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 
You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 
Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-
It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 
Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 
You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 
The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...
It looked like some bird
Some sort of weird bird
Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-
Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 
Eddie had-
“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 
Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!
 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 
The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 
What was that about?
Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 
You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 
This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 
You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 
There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 
“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 
When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 
Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 
“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 
He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?
You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 
To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 
“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”
He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 
“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 
“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 
“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.
“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 
“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 
“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 
“Spell my name, Eddie.” 
You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 
“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 
“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 
Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 
“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”
“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”
“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 
Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 
“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”
Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 
“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 
“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 
As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 
“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”
Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 
“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 
---
Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.
Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3
Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling
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libraryofgage · 9 months
Text
I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:
Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.
He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.
He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.
He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.
Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.
After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.
Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.
--------
Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.
Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.
"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.
"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.
Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."
Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"
Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."
"You're my only boyfriend."
"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.
"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.
"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.
Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."
"Do what?" Eddie asks.
"Know how to play piano."
There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.
"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.
With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.
"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.
"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."
Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.
"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.
Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"
Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."
"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.
He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.
Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.
He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.
He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.
"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.
Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.
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lovebugism · 3 months
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shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)
love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.
Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.
Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.
You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.
Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.
You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.
“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”
Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.
He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”
The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.
He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.
He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists. 
He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out. 
The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.
You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.
He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is. 
Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.
“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack. 
He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.
His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.
“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”
His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow. 
He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it. 
He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.
So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere. 
The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.
“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.
“Well, I do want… I want very much…”
He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.
He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there. 
Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.
You still make him turn around before you change, though.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.
“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.
“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”
“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.
“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”
“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.
“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”
You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.
“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”
“I know. You can turn around now.”
Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.
You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago. 
The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.
“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.
“Shut up.”
Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin. 
‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.
“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.
Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them. 
“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.
You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”
“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”
You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.
“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”
“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”
“It’s your house, Eds.”
“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.
“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”
Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt. 
“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”
You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.
Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.
“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.
“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.
He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”
You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.
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sundaynightlive · 10 months
Text
Character Development (Steddie)
“If I were you… I would get her back.”
Steve snaps suddenly out of his trance—Eddie’s a pretty boy to look at. Dangerously so. In fact, half of this conversation has gone completely over his head, which is probably why he’s misinterpreted it completely.
“Hold on—pause,” he says, perplexed, “We’re not flirting?” They stop walking in unison, Eddie freezing out of shock, Steve anticipating it. Eddie looks at him, wide eyed, jaw going slack and then taught like he can’t decide which conveys his surprise better.
“I… what?”
“I was just making eyes at you,” Steve says, and then groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God damn it, I’ve really lost my touch.”
“No!” Eddie exclaims quickly, “Ah, no.” He’s flustered. Steve sees the flush in his face—he’s not trying to hide it. “No it’s… it’s working. I just didn’t think… you’re into guys?” Steve shrugs.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
They stand there awkwardly for a moment, and then Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s and they continue walking, easing out of the tension.
“So… how long?”
“How long what?”
“Have you known?” Eddie clarifies, and Steve notices their knuckles are brushing between them. He gazes up at Rob and Nancy, who are blissfully unaware.
“Well… someone came out to me recently so I started looking into it, called my uncle—man, that was an awkward conversation.”
“Your uncle?”
“Oh—he’s gay—has a partner and stuff. They live in California and we visited sometimes when my parents still took me places, you know.” Eddie blinks at him, nodding his head a little bit, but doesn’t look like he’s fully comprehending anything Steve’s saying at all. Steve takes a turn bumping Eddie’s shoulder, thinking maybe it’ll jolt awake some of those gears in his brain.
Their pinkies hook.
“So… what was the conclusion?” Eddie asks, like he doesn’t already know.
“I’ve had nasty thoughts about Harrison Ford way too many times to be straight,” Steve admits cheekily, “He said I’m bi, I guess. It means—“
“I know what it means, Steve.” Steve grins at him, a little sheepish, and Eddie smiles back, something soft and personal. It’s an expression Steve hasn’t seen him make yet, even with all his damn theatrics. To be fair, Steve’s growing quite fond of those theatrics, premature as it might be.
“So, go on,” Steve teases, “What were you saying about me getting back with my ex?
“Hmm, I don’t recall saying anything like that,” Eddie responds.
“Oh really?”
“Really. In fact, that’s a terrible idea. Bad for character development.” Steve laughs then—fully laughs—a sound that must be revolutionary for the Upside Down. No one has ever laughed here, no way.
“Character development?”
“Indeed.”
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hairmetal666 · 3 months
Text
Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.
But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.
They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.
Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.
It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.
"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.
Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?
"No, of course not," he answers too fast.
"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."
"That's not true! We're in one together right now."
Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."
Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.
"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.
Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."
Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."
"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."
He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.
They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.
"You're a shit liar, Harrington."
"Ed--I'm not--"
"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.
"Don't be stupid, Munson."
"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."
"I do not. Grow up."
"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"
"There isn't--"
"Stop lying!"
"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"
Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.
"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"
Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."
"It was the wrong one!"
"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."
"But you didn't."
"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."
"It doesn't matter."
"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"
"Yes, I can! I know."
"You don't! You think--"
"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"
Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.
Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"
"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"
And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."
"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.
In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.
"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"
"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."
They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.
"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"
"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."
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