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two-red-lungs · 1 year

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The Kids Are Alright (Eddie Munson)

Your first date with Eddie Munson is fine, as far as first dates go. You get pizza together: meet awkwardly outside the door at 7pm, hands sweaty, exchanging nervous, butterfly-riddled smiles. You eat. He can't stop moving in his seat opposite you, tapping his hands on the sticky enamel tabletop. He looks at you with big brown eyes. Wary, at first, then as the night goes on and it becomes clear this isn't some string-along joke, or a prank, with boyish glee.

But the second date is the one that really shines.

Eddie, in all his intellectual glory, takes you to the Dollar Tree.

It's late, again, and the D in the logo flickers in and out of existence. The air inside smells like cheap plastic, dust, and the urban sprawl of capitalism. This is a place that's usually... dead. A pathetic sort of dead, where dreams come to die, the cashier looks about five seconds from falling asleep, agonizingly boring elevator music plays over tinny speakers, and Hawaiian themed teacups are on sale for ninety-nine cents.

You think god, what the hell are we even doing here? This is hardly a dinner date, or the bowling alley, or makeout point, or any of the usual dates your friends always bragged so cooling about. But then Eddie looks at you over his shoulder, spins on his heel, and throws his arms wide. His outfit jingles.

"Welcome," he says with a glint in his dark eyes, "to the goddamn kingdom of imagination."

You should leave. God knows to anyone else at school this date could sound like a horror story, an uncouth, uncool, unladylike disaster. But there's something in those eyes. Something vibrant and alive and real. So instead of leaving you think, okay. Why not.

Best decision of your life.

He knows this place by heart, every white-tiled aisle under the buzzing fluorescents. And he's funny, too: you didn't expect him to be so funny. As you both slowly amble and push your squeaky-wheeled cart he picks up random shit, talking as he fiddles.

A fuzzy caterpillar cat toy becomes his moustache. He wraps a crinkled paper streamer around his neck like a boa and faints dramatically against some of the shelves. He scurries to the aisle next to you and pretends to walk down a staircase, disappearing from view: when his moppish head pops back up again, his wild hair flounces.

Huh. He smiles like the sun.

Eddie asks about everything possible, and god, under his stoner slang he's whip fucking smart. You crack a joke or a sarcastic reference and he smoothly returns it with equal emphasis, two tennis players on the court.

You check out picture frames. Eddie suggests throwing a little spraypaint on it, a little silver paint to light the edges, some weathering with sandpaper, and suddenly you've got yourself some primo decor.

"You like to paint?" You ask him, standing in the aisle, holding the shitty wooden frame. He's looking over your shoulder. You can feel his body heat, this close.

"I'm a big believer in, uh. Creativity, y'know?" His smile is big, toothy. Still nervous. Like as extroverted as he is, as big as his personality could be, the sting of a scoff or a sneer could still hurt.

You tell him that's cool. Something in his eyes softens.

God, you don't know how many hours you spend in that place, just talking and touching shit and discussing potential DIY projects and cool ideas. You talk comics, and music, and Hawkins social politics. He tells you about Tolkien. You tell him about David Brin. He likes David Murray, you like Siouxie Sioux. You both agree the autumn leaves this time of year make the Hawkins High look like its roof is on fire (and god, if only).

Your cart is full of bullshit you don't really need, bullshit full of promise and potential, and Eddie is letting you ride the cart with your feet on the front bar as he pushes it down the aisle at mach one speed. He splutters behind you, your hair in his mouth. He's laughing.

The total comes to 12 dollars even. The plan for the next date is to turn the kids bathtub toys you bought- ducks and dolls and dolphins- into zombies and mummies and other creatures with the shitty barely-opaque acrylics set you scored.

The sky is black outside, and it's raining. He asks if he'll see you again this week, and you say yeah, duh. The air feels like fireworks- like lightning, like a live wire. You think for a second that he's gonna kiss you.

Eddie pulls out a silver-plastic tiara from under his vest, nicked free of charge from the girl's section, and sets it on your head. It's cheap, pattern-punched plastic with pink plastic gems. It's perfect. He's made you a fairytale.

Munson bows, smiles again- the one that makes his eyes crinkle- and then he's off in his van.

He's so weird. He's so strange. You don't understand him.

You think you really like him.

#eddie munson #stranger things s4 spoilers #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #my writing #I'M NOT DEAD I'M JUST IN UNIVERSITY

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renatapatata · 2 years

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"hi im robin and this is my girlfriend vickie but i also have a girlfriend named nancy who has a boyfriend named steve and steve has a boyfriend named eddie but nancy also has a boyfriend named jonathan who has a boyfriend named argyle who has a girlfri-"

#ik it wont happen but it would b funny to me if robin and nancy just got together #but then the writers wouldnt know what to do with steve and then theyd probs kill him off ☠☠#jk jk they better give em all happy endings 🤬#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things s4 spoilers #stranger things season 4 spoilers #st spoilers #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #argyle #jonathan byers #st s4

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counting-stars-gayly · 2 years

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Bitches be like, “We’re friends. We’re friends.” And then, five seconds later, it’s [tender, emotional music] and heart eyes galore.

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zunaki · 2 years

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Lesbians for Will Byers

#will byers #gay will byers #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #stranger things s4 #stranger things s4 spoilers #stranger things fanart #stranger things criticism #FUCK THE DUFFERS #byler

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melancholyofautvmn · 2 years

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[tender, emotional music playing] is on its way to becoming another "live slug reaction".

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things season 4 spoilers #stranger things s4 #stranger things s4 spoilers #live slug reaction #byler #lumax #jopper #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #joyce byers #jim hopper #[tender emotional music playing]#1k

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eddiesbug · 2 years

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request: eddie doesn't die, but he just barely makes it, and visiting him in the hospital with his favorite music and foods and giving him soft cuddles and yeah

FIX-IT FIC

content warnings: STRANGER THINGS VOL 2 SPOILERS, sum light angst but not rly (just lots of relieved crying), reader is totally emotionally crippled, soft cuddles, just loving on the bestest boy

“Mmph…” Eddie’s little grumble has you stirring from a light doze, face pressed against his warm hand on the hospital bed. “Baby?” he calls, voice rasping. The relief his voice gives you is palpable; you really thought you’d lost him and no one has been able to console you for days. You’ve been planted firmly by his side for the entirety of the time he’s been at the hospital, waiting, praying for him to wake up. It seems your prayers have been answered.

He’s disoriented at first, grappling for purchase against your t-shirt. The hospital gown itches and it’s so bright and you’re the only familiarity in the foreign, clinically sterilised room.

A wet sob looses from your throat and your shaking hands cup his face, tracing the curve of his brow, the dip and bump of his nose, the swell of his lips.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you breathe out, tears from your waterlogged lashes obscuring your view of your boyfriend. You feel you need to commit his features to memory now. Just in case. “Thought you were gone, Eds.”

“What a way to go it would’ve been though, right?” he laughs, though his voice is scratchy and strained. Everything hurts and despite that he’s still cracking jokes. Only your Eddie.

You scoff, grabbing his jaw with no real malice and pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. It makes you ache to even think about him being gone. You don’t think your heart could take it.

“It’s not even funny. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It really looked like you’d died, baby.”

“Couldn’t leave my favourite girl, could I?”

“Better not. I need you, idiot.” You growl playfully, lacing your fingers through his grubby ones and kissing each of his knuckles in turn. He draws your hand up to his face, opening your clenched fingers and pressing his face to your warm palm. You stroke across his cheek soothingly as he seeks your touch.

“Brought you some stuff.”

“Oh, do tell.”

You begrudgingly leave his side to swipe the basket from the floor. You pull out each item in turn: a Walkman, some of his favourite music (Ozzy, of course, Metallica, Iron Maiden), some chocolate, cake, chips, anything you think he’ll eat. He gazes at the pile of items in awe.

“You brought all this for me, baby?”

“‘Course I did,” you murmur, trying to push back the tears brimming behind your eyes. You really can’t help it — you’ve spent the past days wound tight with stress and terror, and now that he’s okay, you’re crumbling.

“Oh, my angel. I’m okay,” he croaks.

“Don’t you ever leave me. Ever.” You kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his hands. Anywhere you can reach. “Never ever.”

“Never.”

“Okay.”

He watches with rapt attention as you pile everything back into the basket bar a few snacks, before toeing your shoes off and shuffling into the bed next to him. You tremble as you move, needing to touch him, to feel him, warm and breathing and alive.

It takes him some effort to manoeuvre into a position where you can cradle him the way he likes, but once his head is resting in the juncture of your neck, he relaxes.

“‘ve got you,” you mumble. “Got you here. Safe.” He nods along, eyes following your hands as you tear open a bag of chips. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

“Okay,” comes your soft acknowledgment. You pinch a small chip out of the bag, placing it into his awaiting mouth. He grins, pointed teeth protruding past his lips. Even his dimples show themselves. Your heart clenches.

“Gonna take care of me? Feed me and nurse me back to health?” he teases.

“You bet I am. Not leaving until you’re better.” Your dead seriousness contrasts greatly with his jovial tone. You can’t leave him ever again.

“Nurse y/n.” He ponders the silly nickname, that spark in his eyes you missed so much finally returning. “Think I know a few ways you could make me feel better.”

You giggle, kissing his temple.

“Perv.”

“You love me.”

“I do. So much.”

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love-strawberry · 2 years

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heaven sounds great

summary : it was hard moving on but she was trying. it became impossible doing so when steve was trying to climb her window with a bunch of white roses speaking nonsense but she loved white roses. and him.

pairing : steve harrington x reader

warnings : language

author's note : part ii!!!!! thank you to everyone who liked part i, it makes my heart full!! i wanted to end this on an angsty note but i realised that i'd be heartbroken so here you go!! <3 hope you all like it as much i did!!

tagged : @bijleegiregi @sebsmoocow @fezcomybeloved @bethii1 @simplysnips @laufeysonluvr @yourfavoritefangirl @ateliefloresdaprimavera @leticiaps14 @wolfstarsimpxx @thatonegirlwhowrites @itscheybaby @pandoraneverland @siriusblacksl0ver @undeniableadrenaline @screechingmugpaperdean @fall-writes @goldenharrysworld

wish i hated you instead i

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y/n y/l/n had a lot of regrets in her life and having this conversation with robin buckley made the top three.

(the biggest one was steve finding out about her embarassing crush on him, his words, not hers. she regretted it so much that if she could've changed her name and fled off to french countryside, she would've.)

"but, like, why?"

"i have no fucking clue, robin," y/n said dryly as she played with robin's hands. "if i did, i would be with him right now. not with you."

"rude," robin glared playfully. "but, it's clear as the day that harrington likes you. no, you know what? he loves you. i, personally, thinks he's a loser but that loser worships the ground you walk on "

"thank you for trying to cheer me up, robin, i appreciate it. truly," y/n smiled at her. "but, there's a zero chance of steve liking me. i told what happened and how he reacted. it's not gonna happen."

"but—"

"i know what you're gonna say. maybe he reacted that way cause he was overwhelmed, but it's been three weeks," y/n said as she thought about all the times steve had ignored her the past few weeks. "i've called him a million time, he hasn't picked up. he doesn't take shifts at the store as the same time and leaves whenever i come back. it's clear as fuck that he doesn't wanna talk to me.

"i—i really wish that i should've said something more, you know. that it doesn't matter to me that he doesn't like me, cause he's my friend, robin, that should be enough. and i should've fought harder to stay but—it's all over now. he was my best friend and now my best friend who i stupidly have a crush on hates me."

y/n finished her rant, breathing heavily as robin rubbed her arm. she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to curl up in a hole six feet under and die in it.

"hey," robin spoke gently, "it's all okay, alright? it's gonna be fine. you're an amazing woman and you're a badass. if steve doesn't like you, it's his loss. anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

y/n smiled at robin and she moved to hug her. "thank you for cheering me up. you've improved from last summer."

"always, babe," robin shrugged but smiled genuinely, "and yeah, i've been practising. turns out you can't find a proper significant other if you're a cold bitch, so yeah."

y/n laughed genuinely in weeks. it's been three weeks since steve asked her to leave and three weeks since y/n had a good laugh.

she missed him, of course she did. she had now realised that her entire routine was woven around steve.

steve used to pick her up for her morning shift at the store and he usually hung out there until it was time for his shift.

the day after their fight, y/n ran late cause she was waiting for steve to pick her up, not realising that he probably won't be doing that anymore.

her shift seemed to last an entire day considering the one who used to make her laugh like no tomorrow and crack little jokes wasn't around.

she missed him. terribly and achingly. in a way that made her chest constrict.

and as y/n sat in her bedroom, surrounded by little memoirs from steve, with robin blabbering about something, she wondered if this ache would ever go away.

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steve was having a pretty decent day. that is, if being sad and heartbroken but not crying about it counts as decent.

if it does, then yes. he was having a decent day.

that was, until robin came stumbling through the door.

"oh, my god," robin gasped as if he was a ghost. he admitted that he wasn't looking that great, his hair was a mess and he had dark circles but he took offence to that.

"hey," steve whined. "i'll cry if you make fun of me, i swear."

"no! no, it's not that," robin said frantically, "i thought your shift was over?!"

"what? no, it's not over for," steve spoke as he checked his watch, "another 45 minutes."

"ugh, fuuuck," robin said as she looked at steve then back at the door. "okay, look. don't be mad at me. i didn't know."

"what—? what'd you—" steve's sentence died out as he looked at the person who had just entered.

"what's wrong?" y/n said as she looked at robin, not realising that steve was around since he was standing behind a rack.

"uhhh," robin said as her eyes kept going back and forth between steve and y/n.

"oh," y/n said quietly, having spotted the mop of hair that she had grown to love.

"i am sorry, y/n/n," robin said. "we can go and come back when his shift is over. i thought it'd be over by now."

"no, it's okay," y/n assured robin. "you should go ahead. i've been meaning to talk to steve for a while, that is if he decides to be adult and not run away this time."

steve glared at y/n, moving around the rack to stand in front of her, y/n glaring right back though her eyes didn't have any hate or venom in it. robin realised that.

"i'll—" robin pointed to the gate though the others gave no indication they heard her, too busy in their staring/glaring contest, "—just go. bye!"

the door closed.

"i understand that it's not gonna be the same between us after that but i would like to know if you're gonna come around or if you're gonna start pretending that you don't know me," y/n said as she stared at him.

"of course it's not gonna be the same," steve looked away first, throwing his hands in the air. "why did you have to tell me that? what couldn't you have liked literally anyone else—?"

"i didn't tell you, you weren't supposed to find out, steve—"

"and," steve raised his voice to continue speaking over her, "if even we do get together, it's just—it's not gonna work out? it's just all make believe, okay? we think it's gonna be sunshine and daisies but it's not. you were my best friend, y/n—"

"were?" y/n questioned, her voice becoming so quite that steve thought he imagined it.

"i—i don't—" steve sighed, choosing to stay silent instead.

"it's okay, steve," y/n smiled sadly at him. "i got what i wanted to know. it's okay, i understand."

y/n turned to leave, her hand on the door when steve called out for her.

"y/n, wait."

she turned back to look at him, hating the way her whole body filled with too much hope. hoping that he'd tell that she won't be losing him. that he'll be there for her, just like he always said he would.

"i'm sorry. i—i really am."

"me too, steve."

y/n looked at him for a moment, praying that he'd say something else but, then walked away.

he didn't ask her to stay. so, she left.

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y/n liked to think that she handled that situation with steve maturely.

she didn't cry, she respected his wishes of not remaining friends and she didn't ring him anymore to talk to him.

she handled this situation like an adult and was choosing to move on.

but, moving was easier said than done and the fact the steve was currently climbing up to her window didn't exactly help her in doing so.

"what the fuck?"

"a little help here would be very much appreciated, but you know, take your time. it's not like i'm hanging by a thread here and about to fall to my death."

y/n considered pushing him back just for his sarcasm but realised that she'll probably be the first suspect. so, she helped him, even though somewhat reluctantly.

"what are you doing her?" y/n asked as she pulled him in and closed the window. "at this time?"

"sorry," steve said as he scratched the back of his neck. it was then y/n noticed that he had a bunch of white roses in his hand and felt her features soften.

"what are you doing here, steve?" she asked again, this time more gently.

"i—um, i wanted to give you these," steve said as he shoved the flowers in her hands, retracting his arm at lightning speed.

"oh—" y/n was dumbfounded, as she kept staring at the flowers and back at steve. "thank you? i'm sorry, these flowers are very pretty. i'm just—i'm just so confused."

"yeah, no. you have a right to be confused," steve nodded his head vigorously. "i was driving through the town and i saw these outside the jones' house and thought of you. but then i remembered that we're not on good terms but i just couldn't drive away without getting these. for you. and so i—i decided to pluck them but i forgot that the jones' had a dog and i barely escaped with my life. and i know that i—"

"steve—" y/n tried to speak but he didn't listen.

"—you loved these. so, i got these and i wanted to give these to you but again, we're not on good terms but i was like 'fuck it' and here i am. this was a stupid idea, obviously. you know what, i'll just go, you keep the flowers. it's not like i can stick these back to their bushes and even if a could, i wouldn't. the jones' dog is a menace—"

"steve-"

"—i mean, i love dogs but that bitch? a spawn of devil, i tell you. and you know what, i'll probably shut up now and fall to my death. have you tried climbing up to here? it's so difficult. how're you doing, by the way? you like these flowers—"

"first off, stop saying 'these'," y/n spoke cutting his off. "second, i'm good, steve. how're you? third, i love these flowers. and fourth, i. am. confused."

"first, sorry. second, i'm glad you're fine. i am fine too. third, thank god. fourth, i'm sorry. it's all my fault," steve spoke as he looked at her with apologetic eyes.

"it's okay—i, um, i'm just shocked to see you. i mean, i thought we—" y/n motioned between them, "were over. i mean our friendship. not our relationship cause that's non-existent. i'll shut up now."

"yeah, i am sorry for that-—"

"stop saying sorry."

"sorry."

y/n looked at him before cracking a smile.

"robin is right about you, you know? you are a dumbass."

"hey!" steve looked at her with mock-offense. "rude!"

"sorry not sorry," y/n laughed lights before setting the flowers in her desk and turning back to steve. "so, what brings you here, other than giving me these flowers?"

"uhhh," steve looked anywhere but at her. "i—i wanted to see you."

"see me," y/n scoffed. "i thought you made it quite clear that you didn't wanna see me during our last conversation."

"i deserved that," steve winced. "and that's what i'm sorry about. i thought about it a lot, going over our conversations again and again and you're wrong about one thing."

"what thing?" y/n asked looking at him with suspicion.

"that i don't like you. that's what you're wrong about."

"look, steve," y/n stood up from her bed. "if you're only here to joke about my embarassing crush on you, then please. just go. don't joke, please. not about that."

"i am not—i'm not joking, y/n!' steve said as he pleased with his eyes for see her to believe him, "i swear, i'm not. i would never. i do like you, how could i not? wait, no. i love you. you're this incredible person and i love you. so much."

"then why didn't you say anything?" y/n asked as she picked at her nails.

"because—because we're best friends. best friends do fall in love with eachother at least once. we did too. and i didn't wanna ruin us over something that may not even last forever. i couldn't do that, i couldn't lose you."

"steve," y/n whispered as she took his hands in hers. "don't you think that i knew that? but come on, i've managed to put up with your bullshit for over 15 years. the chances of us lasting forever do look good."

"you're right, of course you are," steve said as he leaned in closer and connected their foreheads. "but i was still afraid of losing you. these last few weeks have been hell without you telling me about random shit."

"you're not afraid anymore?" y/n asked, her voice not more than a whisper due to their close proximity.

"i'm not afraid anymore."

with that, steve leaned in more and kissed her.

it was everything y/n had imagined and more. steve's hand was cradling her jaw while the other rested at her waist, pulling her impossibly close. y/n's hand was cupping his cheek while the other clutched his collar, pulling him even closer to her.

they both parted for air, smiling heavily, panting heavily but hearts full.

"you really wanna do this? it's gonna be some level of make believe but i think it's gonna be heaven," steve asked, his lips brushing over y/n's.

"yeah, heaven sounds great with you."

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