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sp0o0kylights · 8 months

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You know what I want to see, I want to see more of Steve, Eddie, and Robin being 1980s small town kids from Indiana, by which I mean;

Robin is The Source of Gay Knowledge purely because her parents host Hippie Christmas and she managed to sneak away to find a neat bookstore in Indiana once.

Her knowledge is not in depth. It's patchy, woven together through rumors, stories she heard or things she picked up from her parents' old pictures. She's got a handful of zines, one book, and some movies she managed to order for Family Video behind Keith's back.

She acts like she's Queen of the Queers because in Hawkins she pretty much is.

(Max and El ask her what a lavender marriage is once, something they overheard snooping around.

Robin confidentially answers that it's code for when one woman dresses up as a man, fooling officials into wedding two woman.

She does not live this down two years later when they find out what it actually means.)

Eddie doesn't spend every weekend in Indianapolis.

Gas is expensive, his busiest days of his "job" is Friday and Saturday, and he has no fucking clue what the hanky code is.

He's wearing that bandana because Metallica front singer James Hetfield has one on all their tour posters.

Eddie does make it down to a gay bar though, by accident. Rick needed some back up for a shady deal. Promised Eddie a boatload of free drugs to sell if he agreed to just stand there and look mean.

He was warned the bar they were meeting in was 'weird' and to not 'freak out' --which Eddie thought was hilarious given his nickname and general appearance, but whatever.

He doesn't understand when they get there, because it's just a bunch of hot men with hanky's in their back pockets everywhere.

Then he sees two women kissing and it clicks.

He can't out himself in front of Rick, but one of the bartenders playfully dresses him down for his own hanky, letting him know all about the code and teasing him through his embarrassment.

He's got an offer to come back and learn what color and which pocket his hanky should actually be in, a prospect Eddie was salivating at until Chrissy Cunningham up and died on his ceiling.

(He still wore the hanky, because the feeling of that bartender tugging it out and stuffing it back in might be the closest thing he's ever had to sex and he absolutely wants a repeat.

He's young and horny, sue him.)

Steve Harrington may not be academically smart but he's not dumb.

He figured out a while back that the basketball team as a unit probably crossed the queer line more than once--or at least it did before Hargrove came in.

( Brad Handly for example, went around slamming kids into lockers and screaming slurs like a fucking movie villain one Monday because the varsity team got dead drunk at Laura's party on Sunday and hey, look, there weren't that many girls there, okay?

They all had fucking hands and mouths. Everybody but Tommy was single and hot to trot. Nothing gay about it.

Its not even like they were kissing or treating each other like chicks. It was just Brad's first time and they got to tease him later for overthinking it.

Dude graduated soon enough after and given Steve was on the team as a sophomore, he hadn't thought about the guy and why he might be freaking out so bad in years.)

Robin's entire panic attack at Starcourt, and a few more after had Steve replaying that whole incident. Reframed it a bit, and, yeah.

In retrospect that had been extremely gay, actually.

It sat with him a lot easier than he'd thought it would. Partially because of Robin, but mostly because that's just who he was.

Stranger things had happened to Steve and this one didn't want to kill, maim or otherwise eat him, so it got filed under 'interesting facts he should never tell his parents if he wanted to keep his trust fund' and then he went about his day.

(Or he tried too, anyways.

It caught up to him when Eddie and Robin somehow figured out the other was queer and dragged him along to some bar Eddie had a standing invitation at, with demands for Steve to do what he did best.

Babysit.

Their magical trip was utterly destroyed when Brad Handly happened to be the very same bartender who had given Eddie the invite.

Considering Brad's immediate bark of laughter followed by a hug and introducing himself as "Steve's gay awakening", Steve ended up having to speedrun through Eddie and Robin both having a crisis for him.

It didn't help that Steve had politely, and laughingly, corrected Brad with a casual;

"Pretty sure that was Tommy man, but if it helps I think that tongue of yours gave Matt Burdon a crisis."

--which ended up with him answering a lot more gay sex questions with Brad than he cared too.

At least he, through Brad, was able to help Robin connect to some local lesbians and--after a second crisis from Eddie regarding how Steve managed to have more sex than "the resident town freak and guy who actually knew he was gay, Steve!"-- even helped Eddie out by catching the metalheads tongue with his mouth later that evening.

The last one landed him a boyfriend, trust fund be damned.)

#this started as thought and ended as a mini fic #filing this under shit I'm not expanding on #steddie #platonic stobin #its the “Eddie and Robin drag Steve to a Gay Bar” trope but with a twist #the twist is that Steve skipped his gay crisis entirely #and also that basketball team is not straight #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #I just want to re-invoke that pre internet feeling of "No one has an easy way to google whether or not their friend is right #so it comes down to who sounds right LOL #or whose known for what

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

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Part 2

Robin Buckley was unfortunately well-aware of Steve Harrington, long before they started working together. He had been the worst kind of popular in high school, the completely effortless kind. And Robin was not looking forward to working with him.

Sure, he had been better than the other jock dickheads Robin was forced to share space with, but that probably had more to do with his weird Eddie Munson friendship than anything else. Being friends with the town freak kind of forced you to be more accepting. Or in Steve’s case, force you to punch anyone who insulted him in the face.

And while that was all nice and chivlirous or whatever it didn’t stop the fact that Steve Harringinton was a complete ass who slept with dozens of girls and threw them away immmeidtly after. There was no way that a guy like that wasn’t a dick.

And after their first shift working together, Robin was convinced that she had been absolutely right. He was a total slouch at work, spending most of his time failing at flirting with girls or yapping to his friends on the phone in the back. He was a complete diva about his hair, and their manager had given him three reprimands in the span of four hours for not wearing the dumb hat. And he was always trying to get out of work early.

After their first week together Robin was ready to strangle him. The only thing she’d give him is that he accepted being assigned indefinite bathroom cleaning duty with grace, otherwise she probably would have killed him and hid the body in the freezer by now.

Though he was really trying to expedite the process over here.

It was another annoying, Harrington filled day, only for him to once again try and leave early.

But before he could get to the door, Robin was dragging him back behind the counter, hissing, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? We have inventory tonight.”

She had expected him to whine in response or maybe say something dickish that she could kick him in the shin for, but he just looked horrified.

“Tonight? B-But it won’t take that long right? Like just a few minutes?”

“Try a few hours. They’re making us count the spoons man. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

His eyes got wider with each word, and for a split second Robin was actually worried that he was about to have a panic attack. That was until he opened his mouth again, “I-okay. Look dude, I really can’t do this tonight. I have a thing that I need to go to. But I can make it up to you! Or I can come in tomorrow morning-”

“The manager is going to look at it tomorrow morning,” Robin interrupted, arms crossed and brow twitching, “What is so damn important that it can’t wait till tomorrowow?”

“Does that matter?” Steve asked, oddly defensive for someone who was literally begging, “I just need to leave. But I can make it up to you! I’ll even pay you. You can have all the tips for the week and if that’s not enough then I’ll do the trash for three-no four days. I’ll do anything. Please?”

He actually looked like he was on the edge of tears and Robin had to begrudgingly admit that the puppy eyes were working on her. Christ, she was too good of a person.

She sighed, “Trash duty for two weeks, and for the week I get the tips I expect you to be extra charming. We clear?”

“Yes! Totally fair!” Steve was already speed walking backwards to the door, and those misty eyes had suddenly completely disappeared. Robin was started to think that she just got played and big time, “Best co-worker ever! Really couldn’t ask for better-”

“Just fucking go.” Robin said as she shooed him off, near snorting when Steve actually started running out of the mall.

She looked back behind the counter, groaning when she realized that his trash promise apparently started tomorrow. Fucking dick. She’d take out the trash, do inventroy alone, and then curse the Harrington name.

She started to lug the disgusting trash bags full of soupy ice cream through the backdoor, shivering a little in the cold. The dumpster was right next to the almost empty parking lot, everyone gone except one long running van.

Robin stopped, realziing that two people were making out infront of it, and one of them just so happened to still be wearing his cutsy uniform while he shoved his tongue down the stranger’s throat. Robin stared at them, barely concealed by the dumpster as her blood boiled.

Steve ditched her to make-out with some chick in the parking lot? Oh hell no. He was not getting away with this. She was just about to come out of her hiding spot to start tearing into him when she heard Steve giggle. Honest to god giggle.

He was standing in front of the girl, obscuring her face while he played with a lock of her hair, “Aw, don’t pout. I didn’t make the schedule. Besides, I already said I’d make it up to you in any way you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes, wondering if she should include warning the poor girl that whatever two week anniversary they were celebrating would definitely be their last when she called him out.

“I just didn’t expect to spend most of our four year anniversary eating cake in bed alone,” The stranger answered, their voice instantly recongnizble, “I was supposed to be eating you.”

That wasn’t a chick, that was Eddie.

Robin gasped, a hand going over her mouth. She had heard that voice many times, usually yelling about comforimity while standing on a lunch table. But that didn’t make sense! It couldn’t be-

But then Eddie was spinning them around, crowding Steve against the hood of his car, his signature DIO vest on full display while he ploundered Steve’s mouth, Steve laughing into it all the while.

Robin felt like her brain was short-circuiting as she watched them. She was actually witnessing Steve Harrington happily shoving his tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat.

Steve pulled away first, holding Eddie back with a hand to his chest, still giggling, “God, that was so lame. Even for you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Steve easily agreed, “And I’ll love it even more when we’re home and in bed. Then we can really start celebrating.”

That was more than enough for Eddie. He dragged Steve off of the hood before opening the passenger side door for him, stealing one more kiss before running over to the driver’s side.

Robin watched as they settled into the van, hands immediately clasped back together over the centerconsole. But it didn’t stop there. No, Steve was licking his lips and looking down muttering something to Eddie that she couldn’t hear. But she could guess, especially when his head suddenly dissapeared right before they drove off.

Robin stayed hidden behind the dumpster, still trying to comprehend what she’d just seen. She just watched King Steve make out with the resident freak, and maybe start the beginnings of road head, all while giggling and laughing about their fucking anniversy.

What. The. Fuck.

From an unpublished chapter of this fic

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #this is straight from my childhood au fic for 85 #might do a part 2 here though #because the fic is NOWHERE near this part but it's technically written #stranger things

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daffi-990 · 3 months

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Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @tizniz (who posted 21K of fluffy dad!buddie goodness that you can read here). Thank you lovely 😘❤️

Now that turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you (aka the Eddie pulls away from Buck after the graveyard scene fic) is finished, I can dive back into Rival Firefighters and hopefully the Eddie breakdown fic (feel like I may be. bit stuck atm with that one).

Snuck in some tipity tap typing time this morning and was able to get a little bit more of Rival Firefighters 🚒 written (not as much as I would’ve liked but hey, it’s something 🤷🏻‍♀️).

Prev snippet here, though today’s snippet actually follows on a little bit after this one (yes I’m aware I’m posting snippets out of order but I write a little out of order soooooo)

Buck’s seen pictures of Shannon around the Diaz house but they really don’t do her justice. Shannon’s hair is up in a high ponytail, her bangs accentuating the feminine softness of her face and when she turns to look at Buck and offers him a friendly smile like she’s genuinely pleased to see him, Buck understands how Eddie was so easily drawn to her.

She’s beautiful.

The way her blue eyes light up when she smiles reminds Buck of sunlight dancing on water. Sparkling light reflection he thinks it’s called.

She extends a hand out to him. “I’m Eddie’s very platonic, ex wife, Shannon.” She says with a mischievous grin.

Eddie closes his eyes and brings a hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose as he mutters in Spanish under his breath. “Dios Mio”.

A little confused at the way she’d introduced herself, Buck accepts her offered hand. “Uh, I’m Buck”

“Oh I know” she says with a glint in her eyes. Buck tilts his head and raises an eyebrow in question. Shannon glances at Eddie who is pointedly not looking at her or Buck. “You’ve been a hot topic in the Diaz family ever since Eddie joined the 136.”

“Oh have I?” Buck says with smug satisfaction as he turns his attention to Eddie who actually squirms at the attention.

“I had to bi—,” Eddie’s eyes quickly flick over to Chris, “complain to someone about the annoying probie I kept running into.”

“Uh huh.” Buck couldn't keep the stupid smile off of his face even if he wanted to.

No pressure tagging: @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @missmagooglie @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @bekkachaos @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @captain-hen @puppyboybuckley @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @lover-of-mine @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @king-buckley @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @sibylsleaves @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie and anyone else I missed who wants to join 🤩

#daffi writes #buddie wip #fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #writing Buck meeting Shannon is haaaard #cos like they didn’t interact in canon so I’ve got nothing to go off #though I do believe they would’ve gotten along #… eventually haha #but no fear because in this fic they get along straight away #that’s also because her and Eddie get along and are in a good place #anyway … hope you all like it #I love this fic and hopefully I can keep chip chip chipping away at it #buddie

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skepsiss · 7 months

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Tooth and Nail pt2

Part 2 of this mini-series. I guess I'm writing like 4 mini-series right now. This story is about Eddie being the one to question his sexuality after Steve comes out first. Read the first part to get the full details.

This part is pretty darn sad with a lot of introspection. I put up a mini-poll asking people what they wanted to read the most and Eddie being introspective was winning when I started writing this. I'm likely to write all the options on that poll still, so don't fret. I want to say clearly too that I do not agree with Eddie's thoughts. Sharing your emotions is never selfish and I think the fact that he feels like a burden is something he needs to work through. He is unwell. I'll admit I made myself cry writing this so if you're emotionally fragile like I am (lol) read at your own risk.

TW: Internalized homophobia (he's working through it), self-hatred, brief thoughts on death, mention of war (Vietnam and Korea).

PT1 PT2 PT3

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"I kissed Steve."

"What?" Gareth said, startled as he stared at Eddie.

Eddie was sitting on a beaten-up old armchair in Jeff’s garage; it was night and they’d opened the garage door to let in the summer air. The whole block was having a party and despite the time of night, the street was still alight with lamps and Christmas lights as people mingled in the street. Eddie had taken refuge in the garage (slightly paranoid that someone was going to touch the band equipment) after the first hour of forcing himself to be social. He had a beer in hand, even though he was underage, but it didn’t seem like any of the adults cared as long as they behaved. Hell, Eddie didn’t even live on this block but he was here enough that the neighbours didn’t seem to mind.

“A week and a half ago,” Eddie answered. He was slouching badly with one leg up on the seat, looking as if he was trying to lounge on a satee instead of a corduroy, La-Z-Boy from the 60s.

“Wait–sorry, what?” Gareth asked again, holding his own beer between his knees as he stared at Eddie. He had come to join him a few moments ago since Eddie had been moping by himself, and then they had proceeded to sit in silence until now.

Eddie flicked his gaze over to the younger boy before taking a long sip of his beer as if to say, yeah, you heard right without the willingness to repeat himself. He was quietly pissed, actually, but was chomping at the bit to talk to someone about it.

“So, are you like…” Gareth started, waving one of his hands as if that would fill in the blank.

“I’m fucking straight,” Eddie muttered, looking away and taking another long drink from his beer.

“Then why–” Gareth wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise and anyone who came to talk to Eddie when he was in a mood like this knew that coming in.

“I don’t fucking know!” Eddie grumbled, crossing his other arm over his chest and slouching all the way down in his seat so only his neck was being supported by the back of the chair.

Gareth frowned at him and looked away, no doubt wondering what he should say to all of that. It gave Eddie a moment to calm down and he eventually sat back up.

“I just…” he muttered, speaking into his drink, “I don’t know; it’d be easy if he was a girl. I just wish he was a girl.”

“Eddie…” Gareth mumbled a bit incredulously as he pinched his brows in. His expression was pitying and Eddie hated that it looked like he felt sorry for him. That was annoying and he scowled before looking away.

Eddie’s logic was sound, it didn’t make sense why Gareth would be questioning it. Things would be easier if Steve was just a girl, that way if he had kissed him it wouldn’t be a big deal. Just an oops, sorry, that was uncool, well, anyways, and then they’d move on. He wouldn’t have to be dealing with this crisis of conscience and saying that he was just joking around wouldn’t have blown up in his face–maybe, he wasn’t sure. If Steve was a girl saying that he was joking actually might have blown up in his face more now that he was thinking about it… probably wasn’t cool to yank a girl’s chain like that.

“We were high and I don’t know, I wanted to talk to him about it being fine that he’s gay or whatever and I wasn’t thinking at all and I just…” Eddie sighed heavily and chugged the remainder of his beer. He twisted the pull-tab off and flicked it across the room, aiming for the bin and missing.

“You always want to kiss people when you’re high?” Gareth asked an edge of humour to his voice. He was teasing lightly, but Eddie didn’t have the patience for that kind of crap right now.

“Fuck no,” Eddie grouched, crossing his arms and resuming his earlier position where one of his legs was up and he was slouched into the corner of the seat. “I wouldn’t kiss your ugly mug for money.”

Gareth snorted lightly and took a swig of his beer, letting the moment simmer.

“So…” he continued, glancing at Eddie before looking away sharply, “he get mad or something?”

Eddie groaned as he covered his eyes with the side of his hand, cupping his forehead as he tipped his head back. Why had he brought this up? He didn’t want to talk about this. It had been eating his insides alive, but he didn’t actually want to talk about it. What was Gareth going to do? Tell him the magic words to make Steve like him again?

“I told him I was joking,” Eddie mumbled, “and that I didn’t mean it–I even apologized, and I don’t fucking apologize to anyone.”

“Tell me about it,” Gareth muttered under his breath and Eddie hucked his empty beer can at his head, forcing Gareth to duck.

“Jesus–” he half laughed, the can knocking against him harmlessly and clattering to the ground, “just saying.”

Eddie flicked him off and motioned to get up. He didn’t need to be here for this, he didn’t want to be around people. This sucked. He could tell that Gareth was trying to be helpful–trying to be a friend–but he didn’t have the patience for it and he didn’t want to have another fight with another friend over something stupid.

Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to Gareth before picking up the empty can and chucking it into the garbage. He wasn’t about to leave trash in Jeff’s garage, his parents let them practice there and store their gear most of the time and Eddie wasn’t going to burn this location.

“Say bye to Jeff for me,” Eddie muttered, grouching out of the garage, “and thanks for the food.”

“You going home?” Gareth asked, leaning over the side of his chair to watch Eddie.

“No, this is an illusion,” Eddie mocked, turning and waving his hand in front of his face and giving a manic smile, “the Eddie you know died a long time ago.”

Gareth half laughed, but his brows pinched in at the same time. Eddie didn’t stick around to see if that meant he wanted to say something. He just continued to walk away, turning and hunching his shoulders as he walked past energetic little kids chasing one another and people starting to pack up their dishware. He didn’t feel like unpacking what he had told Gareth or why stating that he had died twisted his guts up into knots. He also didn’t like that he could tell that his upset wasn’t due to the fact that he was lying, but rather that it felt too close to the truth.

Eddie lit a cigarette and started the long walk home. He lost the last of the dusk light halfway through his walk, already two cigarettes down as he got closer to Cherry Street. He wanted to say he ended up there by accident, but that would have been a lie. He walked this way often, actually, and it had been convenient once upon a time. Steve lived on Cherry Street… and Cherry Street backed up onto the forest that connected to the trailer park. A funny coincidence, he had said once to Steve, makes it easier to bother you. That was all too true now though. He was more than a bother.

Eddie stood looming at the end of the street as he stared off towards Steve’s house, the large, stark white structure easy to spot even in the dark. The lawn was lit up by small pot lights and the street lamp across the road shone brightly down onto the sidewalk. Eddie was out of view of any of the windows from his vantage, but he could see the side of the garage and the front of Steve’s house still.

He grumbled miserably and flicked the butt of his cigarette, not bothering to stamp it out before rerouting and taking the long way home. He didn’t want to walk past Steve’s place and risk seeing him, he didn’t know what he’d say if he saw him… he still didn’t really know what had happened. The whole thing felt jumbled in his mind and then crystal clear all at once. He could remember everything so vividly, but it was as if they had been speaking a foreign language to each other: none of it made sense.

Why did he kiss Steve?

Why had that led to Steve getting so angry he nearly got hit?

Why was he such a jackass that seemed to ruin any good thing that happened to him?

It was pitch black by the time Eddie made it home, but he knew the route well enough. The trailer park didn’t have any lights other than the rinky-dink porch lights that some of the homesteads had. It wasn’t that late, but things got dark this far away from town. He came home late like this all the time though, so it wasn’t a surprise when the flyscreen slapped open and Wayne was lounging on the couch. Wayne wasn’t working right now, which was a problem, but they had a small nest egg from the government to live off of for at least a few more weeks. It was amazing how far you could stretch a dollar when you’d been doing it for 20 years.

“That you, Eddie?” Wayne asked, sparing a glance towards the door as a commercial popped onto the screen.

“Yeah…” Eddie mumbled, standing by the front door with his hands in his pockets still. He was looking at the ground, and Eddie wasn’t sure why he felt paralyzed. He didn’t want to move, but he didn’t want to be standing there either… stuck in some kind of limbo.

“You’re home early,” Wayne commented, his tone sounding cautious as if he wasn’t sure if a conversation was going to come out of this, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, again, not really sure what he was expecting.

Silence drew out between them as Eddie shifted from foot to foot, just wanting to… be around someone. He wasn’t sure if that was right, but he wanted to be invited in or something. He selfishly wanted to be comforted even though he was the problem.

“What’re you watching?” He mumbled, still not looking at Wayne.

“Mash,” Wayne answered easily, “reruns.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed, feeling like a stranger in his own home. Though he supposed that wasn’t right, this was Wayne’s home, he was a guest. He was a guest that had worn out his invitation by years and years. The deal had been until he graduated, but he still hadn’t done that and it was starting to feel like an impossibility. He didn’t want to be a burden though and he knew that getting a job was the next best thing… but he hadn’t been able to force himself to do that yet either.

Slowly, Eddie shuffled over to the couch and sat down a cushion width away from his uncle, looking up at the TV. The commercials were ending and Eddie felt his throat tighten as he tried to push himself into small talk.

“Is it a good episode?” He asked, having seen most of MASH living here with Wayne. He liked the show, and Eddie could understand why. All the characters questioned why they were at war and the ethics of it all. Made sense for someone like Wayne to get some kind of catharsis from the show after coming home from ‘Nam all those years ago.

“It’s the one where Hawkeye tries to get ribs sent from Chicago to Korea,” Wayne explained, sipping the drink he had in his hand and looking back at the TV.

Eddie snorted slightly, remembering the episode. He toed his shoes off and tucked up onto the couch so he could rest his chin on his knees, the room falling into silence except for the murmur of the TV and the tell-tale M*A*S*H song in the background. It was easy to watch and Eddie stared at the grainy images on the screen as Wayne and him shared the living room. He always liked that he could be quiet with Wayne, but it felt a bit forced on his part tonight.

A commercial broke up the episode and Eddie sighed, not looking at Wayne as he tipped his head to the side before chewing his lip and finally speaking.

“You ever… had a fight with a friend?” Eddie asked quietly, not liking the sound of his own voice right now. It was quiet for a beat before Wayne responded, his tone calm.

“Sure,” he said easily, obviously waiting for Eddie to continue, “you… have a fight with the band?”

“Steve,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head no to Wayne’s assumption as he picked off the black polish on his nails.

“What did you do… to fix it?” Eddie asked, still not looking up.

“Apologized… talked, bought them a beer,” Wayne offered loosely, “depends on what the fight was about.”

Eddie nodded solemnly, not liking that there wasn’t some magic answer to his query. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t feel like elaborating his problem either. So he just nodded and picked at his nails, waffling for a long time before more words tumbled out of him.

“Do you think… people just… dislike me?” Eddie asked, his lip quivering a bit before he got control of it, swallowing hard to hide his emotions. Wayne didn’t say anything right away which forced a bitter laugh from Eddie’s lungs.

“Like, I’m difficult, I know it, people don’t like difficult but sometimes…” Eddie smiled sadly as he held back his emotions, hiding his face between his knees again, “something even when I’m around people that are… like me, I’m just… different.”

Eddie didn’t like the words that were slipping out of him, why he felt like this was related to what had happened with Steve, or why he was saying it to begin with. He didn’t want to talk about this and he didn’t want to put this on Wayne to think about, that wasn’t fair. Wayne dealt with enough of his bullshit, more than any Uncle should have to, but sometimes Eddie couldn’t help that his uncle felt like the only safe person to talk to.

“It feels like it’s just so easy for me to–” he laughed quietly again, having a harder time holding back the wavering tone of his voice, “--to just–fuck things up with people.”

His body betrayed him and Eddie felt tears slipping down his face and he rushed to push them away so they wouldn’t be seen, still shielded by his knees as he hunched like a gargoyle.

“Eddie–” Wayne started, too much sympathy in his voice.

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered, trying to put levity into his tone, “I know you don’t like it when I drop the f-bomb.”

That was partly true, but Eddie also knew that Wayne didn’t care that much. They swore all the time, he just didn’t like being sworn at.

Wayne went quiet for a moment and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of any lingering tears that might be holed up in there.

“What’s going on, boy?” Wayne asked, his voice incredibly gentle.

Eddie felt his bottom lip bunch up, hating that any time Wayne sounded like that Eddie was doomed to start breaking down. It was like a superpower or something–he didn’t know, but Wayne had made him cry dozens of times when he felt on the verge of tears. He always felt selfish seeking out comfort from his uncle when he had already saddled him with so many problems.

“I hate people–” Eddie blubbered, not sure if that was what he really wanted to say but that felt like the strongest phrasing he could find to describe how he felt. He felt so small and so selfish, reverting back to some kind of scared kid who didn’t know how to deal with his own emotions.

Eddie finally looked up, his face wet and his chest tight, and he crawled across the seat cushioned and collapsed onto his side, pressing his face into Wayne’s thigh. He was so pathetic… he was twenty years old and he was crying into his uncle's lap? Eddie the demon, the freak, the devil, metal head, satanic worshipper – yeah right.

“Sometimes it feels like–people just–I’m just–-I’m made to be hated,” he blubbered, hiding his face and gasping through his words. He felt miserable and like he wasn’t really saying what he meant, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say or even why he was doing this right now. It was like hundreds of emotions were trying to fight their way out of his chest and he couldn’t do anything about it. He hated it.

Wayne touched the top of his head and Eddie felt himself choke.

Wayne’s touch was gentle and Eddie couldn’t help but sob as he started to stroke the back of his head. It was a subdued affection, but one that Eddie knew was genuine. Wayne wasn’t a man of many words, so sometimes a touch was the best he was going to get. There was a reason why Wayne sometimes felt like the only safe person–even if Eddie still felt like he was a burden to his uncle.

“Everything about me just—” Eddie sobbed, gritting his teeth as he just let his thoughts and feelings freefall from him. “Why am–I—I–why do I like everything people can–can just hate–about me? I don’t like anything normal—I’m just–nothing about me is normal.”

Usually, Eddie was the first one to proclaim that he was different and scream it loudly for people to hear. He’d shout and point and own it and draw all the other weirdos towards him. He was the king of all the freaks, but it felt like he was still an island amongst them. He was always somehow different. Like there was this wall he bumped up against far too easily that would crop up out of nowhere. How he’d say or do something and just fuck everything up in one fell swoop.

Why did he keep giving people new reasons to call him a freak?

“I hate being like this–I hate–I hate that I can’t just–be normal for—for five minutes,” he gasped, feeling that swell of self-hatred rising in his chest, “it’s always my fault–it’s–I’m always… so… difficult. I just—I can’t—...I don’t know why–I don’t—I hate it, I hate it so much.”

He was feeling sorry for himself again and that felt unfair. It didn’t feel like this was something he got to be upset about or something that Wayne or anyone else cared about. It felt unfair to complain to a man who had probably watched dozens of friends die right in front of him during the war; to complain to a man who had taken him in when no one else would and had to bear this kind of responsibility when he hadn’t asked for it. To have a snot-nosed-brat sobbing in his lap because people didn’t like him. But Eddie was nothing if not selfish.

“I’m so tired of being different–I don’t… I don’t want it anymore–why does it matter so much to people? I just–I don’t want it anymore–It’s–like—I know, I know people hate me—everyone in this goddamn town–people–pe—everyone hates me. Wayne–” he was heaving now as he rambled, everything just spilling out of him in these waves of emotions as each ugly sound crashed into the next. “It’s not fair—I don’t—I don’t want to be the freak–I don’t what—I don’t want to be a loser–to be a drop out–I don’t want—I don’t want to like men–”

The last of his confessions slipped out and Eddie felt his body tighten; his throat felt like it was being ripped apart and his lungs couldn’t pull in enough breath to satiate him. It hurt so badly. It hurt and he hated it and he didn’t know why he said it.

Eddie felt Wayne’s pets pause briefly before picking back up again. That more than anything made Eddie feel ashamed. It made his jaw shake and his shoulders tighten. How fear and sorrow rattled around inside of him at the consequences of his words. He didn’t know what saying them would do–he didn’t mean them. He knew he didn’t mean them–he couldn’t have meant them. Those words were a death sentence.

“It’ll be alright,” Wayne mumbled, the words not sounding as hollow as Eddie thought they would, “I like you plenty.”

Eddie tucked in at the compliment, feeling weak and small as his sobs quieted a bit. His tears didn’t stop, but his chest heaves changed into fluttering gasps as he slowly regained his composure.

“Freaks run in the Munson blood,” Wayne continued and Eddie blubbered a small laugh shifting to press into Wayne’s hip. He was such a child, but he couldn’t help but soak in the comfort.

It was quiet again for some time as Eddie’s crying turned into hiccups and then sniffles, the TV quietly rambling in the background. It took a long while for Eddie to calm down, but Wayne never stopped stroking his hair. He felt wrung out and hollow now, his emotions dull and his body aching from how hard he had cried. Still, it did feel better than when he walked in here.

“I kissed him…” Eddie said quietly. He felt Wayne shift to look down at him, a question in his movement.

“Steve,” Eddie explained, mumbling, “I kissed Steve the other week.”

“I see,” Wayne answered back, obvious awkwardness in his delivery. He had never been good at talking about stuff like this–anything really–but it was obvious that he was trying. “And he doesn’t like that you’re a guy?”

Eddie shook his head, and closed his eyes, tucking in closer still as he pressed his forehead against Wayne’s stomach.

“Steve likes guys,” Eddie sighed, breathing heavily as he wrangled his emotions.

“Alright…” Wayne replied slowly, obviously puzzling through everything. Eddie frowned and tucked in again, hiding as he felt shame wash over him.

“I kissed him…” he explained, sniffing, “and then I told him it was a joke, that I didn’t mean it…”

“Ah…” Wayne answered, sighing a knowing breath. “Did you mean it?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, taking a long time to answer as he pressed hard into Wayne as if he could disappear this way.

“I don’t know…” Eddie replied, his voice muffled. Wayne stroked his head again and Eddie breathed deeply through his mouth, feeling bad for crying all over Wayne’s lap.

“Alright,” Wayne answered simply, not pushing the subject at all. He was good at listening and Eddie quietly appreciated that Wayne always seemed to have time to listen to him ramble. Slowly, Eddie sat back up, his back to Wayne as he hugged his knees and rallied.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, feeling like he had to apologize for the way he had acted.

Wayne just patted his shoulder and Eddie felt a few tears slip down his cheek as if they had been knocked out of him by his uncle’s kindness. He sniffed hard again before getting off the couch and stumbling into the kitchen to splash water into his face and clean off the snot and tears. Eddie lifted the hem of his shirt to dry his face and then leaned against the kitchen counter, going quiet once more.

“Eddie?” Wayne spoke up and Eddie peered over at him through the cabinet shelf, “try telling your friend the truth.”

Eddie frowned at the suggestion, but he didn’t have it in him to be angry. Still, he didn’t think that was a great idea. What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t even sure if he knew what the truth was. How did he feel? Did he like Steve? That felt stupid and the idea made his stomach turn over. What good would a confession do anyway?

“And what’s that?” Eddie asked a bit flippantly, wiping wet strands of hair out of his face.

“That you’re figuring it out and you want to stay friends,” Wayne offered, looking over at Eddie for a moment before turning to look at the TV again.

Eddie stared at the back of his uncle’s head, not sure what to say to that. Was it that simple? It felt like he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that he didn’t know how he felt about something. That he was unsure and vulnerable and scared—it didn’t feel like things were allowed to be that simple.

He didn’t answer Wayne as the TV flicked from image to image painting the dark little trailer in different colours each time. It felt comforting and Eddie appreciated that his Uncle wasn’t smothering him. He was more grateful that Wayne had just… accepted him. He had accepted him like he always did. He hadn’t said anything when Eddie started to grow his hair out or when he got a tattoo, when he flunked school, and now when he had said… he liked men. It had been a surprise to hear himself say those words and there was still deep-rooted shame attached to all of that, but that felt like something he had to unpack on his own. Still, Wayne’s reaction had been the same as it was for all of Eddie’s past transgressions. He’d quietly support him or sigh with worry, but it never seemed to change anything between them.

Eddie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and went to the fridge. He pulled out a can of beer and walked it over to his uncle, touching the cold metal to Wayne’s forearm so he’d look up.

“Thanks,” he muttered gruffly, looking at Eddie briefly before redirecting his attention to the TV.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied quietly, wiping his nose and touching his uncle’s shoulder before stepping away, “thanks.”

PT3

#we stan Wayne Munson in this house #Wayne Munson = best uncle #Eddit is dumb cause he spent all of last fic (the week prior to this)#proclaiming that he loved queer ppl cause they were treated like he is #he thinks queer people are cool but now he's like I CAN'T BE QUEER #that's just cause he's scared of what that means and he has to face so many horrors all the time #doesn't like being hated and sometimes the RSD gets to him #the “being straight” thing is like armor that has just been stripped away and he's been shown he can be hurt here too #he'll learn and grow and eventually love his queer-ness #my_writing #steddie #steve and eddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #wayne munson #I'm bored so take pt2 early

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mimimunson · 3 months

Text

Joseph Quinn needs to CHILL

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Eddie Munson #stranger things #steddie #Joseph Quinn my beloved #I can’t BREATHE #he is straight up gnawing on her #when is it MY TURN #steddie tickle fic #Stranger things tickling #Eddie Munson tickle #mouth twords

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iguessigotta · 1 year

Note

Eddie gluskin with a pregnant darling maybe

you know what's funny about Eddie Gluskin being one of my faves? i am terrified of pregnancy just headcanons for now - this ended up being more an exploration of the inherent horror of this situation than anything shippy, whoops. also kind of an au where Waylon does not survive his encounter with Eddie 18+ just in case CW: injuries, noncon, hostage, pregnancy, suicide mention cannibalism(?) probably more i missed. (no r*** - it is alluded to tho) i mean it's Eddie. the man is a walking billboard for "dead dove do not eat" ok lmao

being Eddie’s darling wife was a living nightmare

you’d been one of the few employees allowed near Eddie, and he’d developed a….thing…for you. well, not you, really, more the idea of you

and when the Mount Massive asylum fell into chaos, you were one of the unlucky people trapped inside

when Eddie found you he was quick to make his image of you your new reality

whether you wanted it or not

you’d initially fought him at every turn. unfortunately, Eddie had a temper, and was prone to snapping with no warning

you’d learned that lesson the hard way - your forearm was still in a makeshift splint, a dull ache where he’d fractured the bone in a fit of anger. or had he broken it? you weren’t sure. all you knew is it hurt like hell and made it nearly impossible for you to fight back

after that incident, you thought keeping your head down and quietly obeying him was the smart choice. that you’d be safe enough to ride out this mess until someone arrived to help

you had to believe that someone was coming. you told yourself you’d be rescued within the week, that there was no way a facility as large as Mount Massive could go down in flames like this without someone noticing

days turned into weeks, weeks into months (how many had it been? 3? 4?)

every night you sat, ankles bound to your chair at the end of some wobbly, bloodstained table, Eddie at the opposite end, a makeshift dinner spread between the two of you

occasionally there would be some sort of meat among the sawdust-flavored rations - Eddie was always vague when you asked him what kind of meat it was

you resisted for the first month, but your resolve broke a week into the second, the hunger pains driving you to tears and forcing you to make a choice

so you ate. and you tried not to think about where he got it from

it was like the two of you playing some sick game of house

Eddie kept a close eye on you when he was around, restraining you when he wasn’t

you’d be tied to a chair. strapped down on your back atop some bloodstained hospital mattress. arms bound behind you, tied to a support beam and forced to sit on the cold concrete floor

all of it was miserable

Eddie said it was for your safety, but you knew better. especially after he’d found you with a knife you’d managed to get your hands on. he’d stopped you from trying to slash your own throat, spewing some bullshit about his darling preferring death over a blissful life as the proud mother of his many, many children

he wasn’t going to let you leave him in any way

some part of you thought about pleading with Eddie to “think of the baby” and untie you - but that only reminded you that you were, in fact, pregnant

and it was starting to show

whatever mental energy you could spare went to trying (and failing) to block that fact out of your mind

you felt like you were trapped in two horror stories simultaneously - one, enduring whatever Eddie decided to do to you on a daily basis, and two, the unwanted life growing inside you against your will

not to mention the mental anguish of what to do after the…birth. would you even survive that? would you want to?

should you try to raise and protect it? or would it be more merciful if you…

it was a horrifying decision to make, one that you flinched away from whenever you found yourself thinking about it

every day you wondered if it would be better to piss him off, have him kill you in a fit of rage. it wouldn't be hard to do, but for some reason the knowledge that you were pregnant stopped you

well, you told yourself, at least you got to skip Eddie’s “operation table”. all the men who came before you weren’t so lucky, if the video on that camera you found was to be believed….

#dead dove do not eat #reader beware #eddie gluskin x reader #yandere eddie gluskin x reader #this is straight up horror reader is having a bad time #in so many ways!#eddie gluskin headcanons #outlast x reader #kinda sorta tempted to write a short fic exploring this absolute nightmare but idk #we'll see idk #no beta we die like men #no kids allowed #sorry if this isn't what you were looking for anon i just had ✨ideas✨ and ✨thoughts✨ in my little head #anyway Eddie Gluskin is horrible and I love him everyone look at my nasty blorbo he's awful <3 #requests #inbox is open and I'm in the mood for horror so #eyes emoji

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tennant-the-tigger · 2 years

Photo

Breakdown at breakfast

Sleeping over at Steve’s after everything. Eddie makes himself at home. Steve is having a mental breakdown.

More ST Art (x)

#matching scars #Steve calls Robin straight after #feeling feels #help #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things fanart #strangers things #I'm reading too many fics #my brain is rotting...#You fic authors are insane #you guys write so fast omg #steve harrington #my art #steddie fanart

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thefreakandthehair · 7 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 9th: Cowboy | Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi | Cavalier a/n: steddie, post-canon fix it, brief mention of canonical harassment, brief allusion to survivor's guilt. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

The sun rises over a leveled Hawkins, bright streaks of sunlight illuminating the cracks and crevices that spider through the town. Fractals that remind Eddie Munson of what’s occurred over the past week since the world first split open.

A week of chaos, of death, of fear. A week of discovering that monsters are real, and that while the ones beneath their feet are terrifying, the ones that hunt Eddie above ground are somehow worse.

The people who still think he’s a murderer, despite being publicly cleared, are far worse than Vecna. They taunt Wayne, deface his posters with things like Dead or Alive on his missing posters, show up at his work to torment him.

It’s why eventually, they have to tell Wayne that he’s dead. Eddie hates it, the idea of leaving Wayne in the dark, but he knows that Nancy’s right and it’s the best way to keep everyone safe. Dustin offers to deliver the news complete with his favorite, now-bloodied, guitar pick chain.

He’s just a kid, Eddie thinks, hiding in Steve’s basement for the time being, his wounds healing slowly.

Dustin’s just a kid, and he sobs when he tells Wayne not because Eddie’s actually dead, but because Wayne is devastated and Dustin has to lie.

Months pass, and Eddie is still considered missing despite everyone’s story that he was swallowed up saving Dustin from a crevice that’d opened beneath their feet.

No body, no absolution. Not for Eddie.

“We can’t keep him holed up here,” Steve groans, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the couch between Eddie and Robin. “It’s not fair.”

“What do you suppose we do then, Steve? The town still…” Nancy grimaces and trails off.

“Yeah, they want me dead, sure. Let ‘em take a crack at it.” Eddie says, monotone and cavalier. “That sounded bad, but seriously, what kind of life is this? Steve’s basement’s fine, but what’s the plan? I just stay here for the rest of my life, hiding? I’d rather be–”

Steve turns and levels him with a glare that needs no words. They’ve talked about this, time after time, that making comments about preferring to be dead are a personal insult to the people who love him, who fought tooth and nail to save him the way he saved them.

He cuts himself off, shakes his head. “What else can we do?”

Dustin is in the corner with the other kids, talking amongst themselves, until Lucas speaks up.

“Someone who knows what’s actually going on has to get him away, outta town. Start over.”

The older teens share a glance, Jonathan and Argyle shrugging in tandem. “California’s pretty far. We’re not going back but, we could set you up with some good people out there.”

“He can’t just go alone though, he’s barely healed!” Robin reminds the group of Eddie’s extensive injuries, healed on the surface but not all the way through. They may never be healed all the way through.

Eddie sighs and drops his head into his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He tries to disguise the way his shoulders shake, tries to bite back the helpless, hopeless sobs that threaten to rip through his rib cage. He doesn’t want to cry in front of his friends, and the few times he’s broken down in front of Steve, it’s pulled painfully at the tendons in his chest.

He feels Robin rub his back and Steve rests a hand on his thigh, thumbing small circles into the fabric of his sweatpants. Well, they were once Steve’s but he can’t even go back to the trailer to salvage what he can of his things. He can’t even go get Sweetheart, not that he thinks he’ll ever be comfortable playing her again.

“What if I go with him?” Steve suggests, quietly enough that Eddie’s the only one to hear him clearly.

“What?” Dustin questions, stepping forward with the rest of the kids.

“I said, what if I go with him? I know what’s going on, my body’s recovered, and let’s call a spade a spade here, I’m the only one without parents around to question where I went. So, what if I go with Eddie to California?”

Eddie’s chest pulls for different reasons— this time, with hope and gratitude, with love and affection.

“Steve, I’m not asking you to do that,” he whispers, turning to face him individually. “You have a whole life here.”

“We’ll come visit, and he can come back to visit, too. And eventually, you’ll be declared dead here. You can start over.” Robin slings an arm over Eddie’s shoulders and squeezes him, a rare show of physical intimacy. Her voice is melancholic at best, but the more the group discusses the option, the more it seems like the only option.

At least for now.

At least while Eddie remains a wanted man.

They waste no time packing up the Pizzamobile, offered as a gift to travel across the country with the provision that Steve return it to Surfer Boy when they reach California.

Eddie and Steve refuse to say goodbye, because it’s not. Robin promises that all of her college applications are now going to California schools, and she hugs Steve and Eddie tight enough that if love could click Eddie’s injuries back in place, he’d be healed immediately.

As they get on the road, Steve at the helm and Eddie sitting passenger, Eddie finds that Argyle has a vast cassette collection.

“Little soundtrack, Stevie?” Eddie wiggles the tape between his fingers and pops it into the tape deck.

The song starts and after the first verse, Eddie just stares out the windshield, thinking.

When he was a kid, outlaws and cowboys were glamorized. Always on the run, nothing to tether them to one place, living alone out on the road. But now it’s Eddie who feels like the outlaw, running from his own innocence, and he can’t find a shred of glamor in that.

“You’re thinking awfully loud over there, Munson.” Steve does it again, rests a hand on Eddie’s thigh as he drives one-handed, and Eddie feels that same glimmer of hope come alive again.

Eddie shrugs and rests his head back against the seat, cracked pleather against his neck.

“All good over here, big boy.” They drive in silence save for Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive and Eddie watches the sunset over the wide expanse of promising highway ahead of them.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie month #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #spoiler alert: wayne does find out the truth and goes straight to cali <3333

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useramor · 11 months

Text

it's just past eight & i'm feeling young and reckless rating: E | word count: 9.7k | chapter 1/9

“I shouldn’t have invited you over.”

Eddie blinks. Doesn’t know what to say. The words sink a little deeper than he wants to let them.

“No, Eddie—” Buck starts, sighing and fixing his posture. He gestures awkwardly to his pants. “Drinking always goes straight down. I used to always pick up girls when I went to bars, and then I was with Abby, so.”

Eddie half expects him to do jazz hands around the outline of his dick against his jeans. It’s big. Not that Eddie notices on purpose, it’s just kind of…there. And Eddie kind of can’t tear his eyes away.

It’s not a big deal, and it’s not like Eddie’s staring at his best friend’s dick in a gay way. Buck’s the one that pointed out the fact that he gets horny when he drinks. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s hard, too, until he reaches down to adjust his pants. His knuckles brush against his clothed cock, and, yeah, that feels a little too good, considering he’s not by himself.

this fic is complete, chapters will be posted every few days. if you'd like to be tagged when that happens, please interact with this post!

#bia.fic #straight!eddie fic #can you believe the tag is bia dot FIC now and no longer wip??? feels insane to me #buddie #buddie fic #911fic #also i am genyuinely shaking <3 #PLEASE BE NICE TOME SHDILFGH

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sunshinediaz · 6 months

Text

i’ll bandage up your body and your bones and your bad days too | 5.6k, teen

fill for @badthingshappenbingo—kick them while they are down

“Hey, pretty boy,” he says, softly, and reaches in to wipe off a stray tear and drip of snot. Eddie rolls his eyes and laughs, thick and nasty, because he knows he’s not pretty right now, red-faced and wild-eyed and wet with tears, wet with snot and spit and sweat and all sorts of other things, but Buck really, truly, thinks so. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t. “Hi.” Buck’s smile widens. “Wanna scoot over and let me in?” he asks, ducking down so he can meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie nods and scrambles to move, sliding over just enough for Buck to squeeze in and then slumping against his wide chest. Buck shuts the door, wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and kisses his forehead. He smells like smoke and Hen’s fruity lotion. “You’re burning up, baby.” Eddie nods, hiccups, and says nothing. Buck brings his other arm around to hold Eddie closer, tighter. “You said you were feeling better,” he says, whispery-soft, as he combs Eddie’s damp hair off his forehead. “Why’d you lie to me?” “I didn’t want you to worry.” “Why do you think I’d worry?” “‘Cause I’m having a bad day,” Eddie answers, shrugging, and nestles in further, like he can crawl inside Buck’s body and spread himself out along Buck’s bones, where he’s warm and wet and welcome, forever and always. “‘Cause I have a cold and everything hurts and nothing feels good except—except this. Except you.” The tension in Eddie’s body sweeps out as quick as it came, leaving him boneless and unsecured and held in Buck’s arms, against Buck’s big chest and even bigger heart where he belongs, where he was born to be. It’s the one place that’s his and nobody else’s, ever again. A tear falls, hot like fire, and he snuffles, wiping his face across Buck’s t-shirt.

read the rest on ao3

#this thing got away from me and it's all because the temps dropped low in oklahoma from 2 days straight of #stupid rain that flooded a few roads and left my feet wet and my bones cold #and all i wanted was hot chocolate and warm fuzzy socks AND ALL I GOT WAS A STUFFY NOSE AND AN EAR ACHE #anyway #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 fic #badthingshappenbingo #bthb fics #my fics

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livwritesstuff · 7 months

Text

only context needed -> it's 2001, steve and eddie are established foster parents, and they just had a newborn baby dropped off on their doorstep enjoy :)

Eddie appears behind Steve only a moment after an unnamed social worker passes off to him a newborn baby and disappears.

“Oh…shit,” he says, “That…yeah, that’s a baby. Was that…”

“Not our caseworker. Couldn’t make it, I guess.”

“Huh,” Ed replies, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, this never gets old. Well…she’s here, I guess...dibs on going shopping.”

“Fine by me,” Steve replies, adjusting the way he’s holding the tiny baby as he begins to make his way back down the hallway, “You can install the car seat while you’re at it.”

“Oh come on, Stevie.”

“I’ll text you a list.”

Eventually Ed does leave, and he begrudgingly takes the car seat with him (sucker, Steve thinks as he watches him go, because that thing is a bitch to install but he totally would have done it if Ed asked nice enough, but he’d do anything for Ed if he asked nice enough). The baby is asleep, and he’d like her to stay that way for as long as possible, so he unfolds the portable crib he’d dug out of the hall closet and then gets back to cooking dinner.

Steve is wrapping up the final steps of the paella recipe when the baby begins to cry. He hopes it’s not a hungry-cry or a diaper-cry, because he can’t exactly help her with any of those things until Ed gets back, but it turns out to be a woke up and didn’t know where she was -cry (or maybe it’s a was in the goddamn womb forty-eight hours ago and now doesn’t know what the fuck is going on -cry; Steve doesn’t blame her either way), because as soon as he’s got her cradled in his arms again, she calms down. He finishes cooking one-handed, and just as he’s plating up dinner, the door to their apartment opens.

Eddie walks into the kitchen, and Steve looks up just in time to watch his jaw slacken as his eyes fall on the way he’s holding the little baby.

“So how’d it go?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“What?”

“God, dad really is your final form.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, though he can’t quite manage to quell the hint of a smirk on his lips before he turns back towards the stove.

“You know precisely what that means,” Ed replies tiredly.

“How did the shopping go?” Steve repeats, because Ed’s ability to productively shop by himself has been a bit of a toss-up ever since he started having a serious amount of disposable income.

Much to Steve’s immediate concern, Ed begins to bring bag after bag after bag in from the hallway.

“It went excellent, I’ll have you know. We’re gonna need a whole-ass shed for all the diapers, and she’s got clothes for the next hundred years.”

“That’s great,” he replies, replacing the baby in the crib, “She’ll be this size for the next forty-five minutes. Formula?”

“Done. Did you know that baby socks are so fuckin’ tiny, Steve?”

Steve looks at him for a long time.

“Is this your way of telling me you bought a lot of baby socks?”

Ed doesn’t immediately answer.

“Ed.”

“Yes — dinner ready? I’m starving.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he turns away — purely to hide the smile he can’t force down, because there’s something so goddamn cute about Ed getting excited about buying baby clothes (but for the sake of their bank account, he can’t let him know he feels that way).

“Dinner’s ready, go sit down.”

And because he can’t help it, he asks —

“So the dad thing does it for you?”“Steve, the dad thing did it for me when you were dad to our fifteen year old friends. Of course it’s gonna do it for me with a newborn fuckin’ baby. Jesus H. Christ.”

mildly edited excerpt from ch 1 of plant a seed (we'll watch it grow)

#subtle dilf-steve bc I couldn't help myself #<- ripped straight from the ao3 tags #this fic could also have been titled: healing from childhood trauma #that's what fandom is for yes?#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #liv’s steddie dads verse

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cunninghamchrissie · 10 months

Note

Talk to me about Hellcheer sneaking out (at least sneaking Chrissy out of her house) to do something wholesome like getting ice cream or watching fireworks.

yes it's been over a month since this ask i wasn't ignoring it time is just meaningless atp

when eddie first suggested it, chrissy had immediately scoffed.

she couldn't just sneak out of her house, not with laura cunningham's ears trained to catch any nightly noise lest chrissy should try and grab a midnight snack from the kitchen (that was a mistake she'd made only once, when her stomach hurt so bad she was bent over in pain. and though laura had missed chrissy's light steps on the staircase, she heard the crunch of the dry, wholegrain toast chrissy was scarfing down as if it was the best meal she'd ever had. the finger-shaped bruises on her arm from being dragged back upstairs didn't fade for weeks).

but the seed has been planted despite herself. it's wednesday night, and her body can't lie still in bed.

kicking the covers off herself, chrissy quietly gets dressed, then sits back down on her bed to call eddie. she has to take a few deep breaths after picking up the receiver, the adrenaline at the possibility of doing something so forbidden already coursing through her. should she even be calling him? she knows wayne works the night shift at the plant, but what if eddie's sleeping and she'll disturb him?

but then she glances at her bedside table alarm clock, the bright red 9:17 p.m. on the display mocking her. eddie would never go to bed that early.

chrissy finally dials eddie's number, and he picks up on the third ring.

"munson manor, this is the butler speaking."

"eddie?"

"hey, princess! to what do i owe the honor?"

"uhm, well. i-i just wanted to let you know that i'm sneaking out tonight."

eddie snorts, leaning his shoulder on the wall by the phone.

"y'know," he starts, biting down on a smirk, "people don't usually announce when they're gonna sneak out. kinda defeats the whole purpose."

"oh."

he can almost hear the cogs in chrissy's brain turning through the silence on her end, and he can't help himself from picturing the cute confused face she must be making.

"okay. so, i guess i'll see you tom-"

"i'm kidding! i'll be there in 15."

---

eddie does his best to drive slowly when he gets to chrissy's neighborhood so the van doesn't wake up half of the uptight, must-be-in-bed-by-nine people that live there, and it's just about the hardest thing he's ever done.

this thing they have is pretty new, and his brain hasn't quite caught up with the fact that he gets to call chrissy his girlfriend and pick her up when she suddenly decides to sneak out of the house in the middle of the week. so, excuse him if he gets a little hyper about it and wants to drive around at 90 miles per hour screaming at the top of his lungs.

instead, he parks the van a couple houses down, kills the engine and the light, and waits for a little blonde jellybean of a person to poke her head out of her front door, look around as if she's in a spy movie, and scurry to him.

---

"so why did you want me to sneak out?"

becauseiwannahangoutwithyouallthetime is the answer that really wants to come out of eddie's mouth, but he actually does have a legitimate reason this time.

"oh, uhm, rick decided to buy an ice cream truck."

"who's going to buy ice cream from reefer rick?"

"hah, no, he's not actually gonna sell ice cream. he's just gonna use it as a front. but, uhm, he didn't actually realize that the previous owner left it fully stocked, so…"

chrissy's eyes sparkle at that. she can't remember the last time she had ice cream, only being allowed half a snow cone with one drizzle of syrup during summer since she was 10.

eddie drives them out to rick's (who's laying low out of town for a couple weeks) and even in the darkness chrissy can see the bright blue and pink stripes covering the entire truck. the image of a mean-looking drug dealer driving it makes her giggle; at least eddie's van is a little more subtle than that.

letting himself into the truck, eddie opens the hatch and tries to put on a ratty, once-white ice cream man hat over his curls, but gives up when it won't stay on.

"so, what will it be, sweetness?"

chrissy's stomach does a little swoop both at the term of endearment she's still not used to hearing, and at the sheer amount of options on the hanging menu. how is she supposed to know what to pick? and what if she picks something she doesn't like and is forced to finish it (because it's just rude to throw it away like that, not to mention a waste of food)? and what if she picks something that eddie doesn't like, and then he won't want to kiss her afterwa--

"chrissy."

eddie breaks her out of the anxiety spiral, seeing through to the heart of her like always.

"i'll pick one so we can share, yeah?"

eddie chooses a king cone, and ends up eating most of the ice cream at chrissy's request, but she nibbles on the crunchy cone, and giggles when eddie makes a show of inhaling the rest of it when chrissy hands it to him, declaring she's full.

he drives her home just before 1 a.m. and chrissy doesn't even bother brushing her teeth before bed, not wanting to wash away the feeling of his sticky vanilla kisses of her lips.

#hellcheer #eddissy #edissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #mine*fic #ask #i still have all the other asks i swear i'll get to them im sorry i suck at this #i wish i could keep the povs straight but alas it's a mess

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nburkhardt · 1 year

Text

You Called My Name (My Whole World Changed)

(Please listen to, Before I Loved You by Phillip Phillips to know the music)

TheHair was a mystery to the public, suddenly appearing one day with ‘Second Chance’ and never posting again. Not even an announcement of an official release of the full song, everyone wondering if the person just left it alone because they wanted people to come up with their own version or if they realized it was a mistake and went back home.

Steve smiled as he heard the music fill the room and he couldn’t believe how well it came together. How he managed to write that in only a year of being together. But it’s here and he feels giddy that others will hear it, that he’ll hear it officially. He’s read the lyrics in the notebook, has felt the words traced on his skin. It’s not that much of a surprise but he knows he’ll love it and Steve can’t wait.

The video that he uses is full of clips of them together from the last year. The first one is of them slow dancing in his living room cropped enough so both their heads aren’t shown, then it’s a mix of clips he’s taken. Of his partner sitting in the driver seat a hand on the wheel and the other shaking in the direction of the camera but the face is blocked by wild curls, another clip is the camera zooming in on someone tuning a red warlock guitar. The clip switches right before the face is shown. Before it ends it’s a quick slideshow of a bunch of their pictures, ending on a single picture of the two of them kissing. Steve’s leaning on an amp and the other is pulling him close.

TheHair: I was barely alive, always hiding the pain. I was nobody before I loved you. #happyoneyearanniversary

He took a deep breath before finally hitting post and immediately putting the phone down and pushing away from the desk. Walking into the other room listening to the laughter and what sounds like an argument coming from the kitchen, he stood against the doorway to watch his boyfriend and his best friend argue over what looks to be their last brownie.

“It’s mine! My sunshine made it, so move away!” His boyfriend moved to grab it but his friend moved again, “come on Jeff! I had like two, Stevie doesn’t bake these often they’re special!”

Jeff rolled his eyes, shifting again to block the counter, “you live with the guy, Eddie! Just ask for more!”

He smiled as Eddie pouted, tried to grab it again before giving up and crossing his arms. “Fine. Take the brownie, I’ll just have- Stevie!” His whole face lights up and he moves quickly to throw himself at him, easily catching him in a hug. “My lovely, beautiful, amazing boyfriend. Stevie, darling, don’tcha think brownies sound wonderful right now?”

Laughing, he shakes his head and presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before pulling away and finding Jeff shake his head and walking pass them, leaving them alone. “Did you and Jeff really just argue over a brownie?”

“Hm, maybe? How much did you hear? Wait, why are you back in here? I thought you had something to do in the studio? Wait, wait! You got the song back today right? How does it sound? Is it the one I read? Did it come together the way you wanted?” Eddie’s words flying out and he bounced out of his arms, looking around for his phone, “did you post it? Where’s my phone! JEFF, do you have my- no wait ah-ha!” He held up his phone with a wiggle before turning it on and facing away from him.

Before Steve knows it, he hears his own voice.

‘I was nobody, nobody, nobody. You called my name and my whole world changed. Cause I love somebody cause I love somebody. I was playing with fire didn’t care if it burned and I was barely alive, always hiding the hurt. I was nobody nobody nobody before I loved you’

“Stevie” Eddie’s voice is soft and there’s a sniffle, turning around he has tears in his eyes and a smile, “Stevie- oh my god. This is, this is beautiful, honey. I love it so much, I love you”

Eddie’s walking back towards him and Steve meets him half way, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Eddie. I love you so much, happy anniversary my love”

~~~

So, I didn’t plan on writing more of this au. But I heard this song and immediately thought of Steve and of course, Steddie. But mostly Steve writing this for Eddie 🥰

Hopefully everyone also gets the same vibe I got when I first heard this song because I was listening to it while writing this and a little bit of doubt went into my ear and I had to double check with @i-less-than-three-you 🤣

ALSO! Just so everyone knows, Steve landed in some tough spots being by himself and not knowing what he’s doing yet. That’s why his account got ignored. He met Eddie at a bar and they don’t click immediately but became friends and it took another month before getting together officially. Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin is an up and coming band and their manager ended up overhearing Steve singing to himself one day and fast forward to this fic, is signed and making music officially. (Steve still hasn’t met Robin yet)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #modern au #stranger things fic #steve x eddie #stranger things #I could do more world building for this #but it’d be pieced together and not a straight story #nburkhardt writes

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