themunsonhorrorpictureshow - Tumblr blog

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 5 months

Text

It's Will that gives him the idea.

"we don't really celebrate father's day anymore," he had said awkwardly, "but I can't hang out anyway."

"why not?" Dustin demanded. He was gonna end up bored and alone because he didn't celebrate the holiday and everyone else had plans. he had been counting on Will to keep him company.

"I'm gonna get Jonathan a new record and I want to listen to it with him," he said.

"can't he get his own records? C'mon, we could go to the arcade or something."

"no, Dustin," his tone took on a stubborn edge that made Dustin pause. "He's my brother and I love him, and he's the only guy besides Bob who's ever even tried to look out for me. So I'm sorry but I'm gonna be busy on Sunday."

Dustin didn't argue after that but it did get him thinking which is why on Sunday morning he biked all the way over to Loch Nora and started banging on Steve's door.

"what do you want, Henderson?" Steve sighed the most dramatic put upon sigh Dustin had ever heard.

"you're not my dad--"

"wow you really are genius!"

"shut up, shut up, listen to me!"

"okay, geez, I'm listening."

"you're not my dad and I don't want you to be my dad. I don't even really want a dad! Lots of dads aren't even that great and my mom already has the single parent thing down. But you taught me how to do my hair and how to talk to girls - even though that advice sucked, I didn't need it to get Suzie at all - and you're gonna teach me how to drive--"

"woah, hey, no I never said I'd do that, wh--"

"--and you've saved my life but I think we're even because I've saved your life too."

"Henderson don't you have anything better to do than harass me in my own home?" Steve said. he was using that exasperated tone he got when he knew he wasn't keeping up with what was going on but didn't want to admit it.

"actually no I don't but I'm here for a reason," he reached into his backpack and took out the gift he clumsily wrapped with scraps of brown paper bags. He shoved it into Steve's hands. "You're basically the only adult male figure in my life. And I appreciate you."

Steve squinted at the gift and then at Dustin and at the gift again before he said fussily "is this a prank? If something gross explodes from this, I swear to god, I'll--"

"Just open it, Steve!"

"Fine, fine, keep your shirt on," Steve said and tore off the paper. He blinked and in a softer tone said, "Oh."

"I don't know if you even like making models but I know you love cars and this kit looked just like yours, so yeah."

Steve stared at the kit some more. Dustin started to fidget. It was always better to be honest with your feelings but maybe this was too much for Steve. Maybe Steve didn't like him as much as Dustin did. Steve was not as enlightened about these things as Dustin.

"I've never made a model before."

Dustin hunched his shoulders and tried not to feel stupid or hurt. He should have expected this. They weren't even related. This was probably too weird. He reached out to take the gift back.

"it's fine, I can return it, whatever."

Steve raised the kit out of Dustin's reach.

"Hey, this is mine," he said.

"you don't even like it!"

"I never said that! I'm just gonna need a dweeby little nerd to help me build it. You know anybody like that?" Steve asked, batting his eyes innocently.

"you're such a dick," Dustin grumbled, fighting back a grin.

"watch your language!"

"shut up, you're not my dad."

Steve laughed as Dustin shoved his way into the house. Hours later, after much shouting and ribbing and one incident of spilled paint, a small model of the beemer was left to dry while Steve forced Dustin to watch the baseball game on TV with him. It wasn't the worst thing ever, and after Steve mentioned the statistics involved, it got way more interesting ("of course you'd like the math part, you weirdo" "you don't understand the stats do you" "shut up and watch the game, Henderson"). When the paint was dry, Dustin followed Steve upstairs and watched him carefully and deliberately place the model between a couple of sports trophies.

"yeah, I guess it looks pretty cool," Steve said with exaggerated nonchalance. "Now beat it, kid. your mom's gonna freak if you're not home when she gets back from work."

"can you give me a ride?"

"ugh, fine."

Dustin grinned. This had been, hands down, the best father's day ever. From the look on Steve's face when he placed the model, Dustin was pretty sure he agreed.

#i'm not crying you are #stranger queues

1K notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 6 months

Text

time really brought innocence to my brother demogorgon...

noah schnapp is a fucking piece of shit by the way

#FREE PALESTINE #noah schnapp #stranger things

6K notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 6 months

Text

I feel that Wayne Munson is the kind of nice old man that would ask my pronouns, no one can tell me that he wouldn't be an ally

he'd even wear one of those

when eddie comes out to wayne, he's not exactly unaccepting or homophobic... but he's not great about it either. he doesn't care if eddie is gay, that's still his boy. but that's the problem. he doesn't see why it should be a big deal, so he treats it like it isn't.

it takes a while for eddie to confront him about it, mostly bc wayne is amazing to him and the only reaction he has to the rare boyfriend is wanting to vet them and make sure they're good to eddie.

that's when wayne starts to put in the work, bc he doesn't want to get it wrong again. he goes to the city a couple time, tries to learn as much as he can and figure out the right things to say and do.

by the time he meets steve harrington, he knows exactly what to say. it feels cheesy, sure, but its worth a little embarrassment for the proud look eddie gives him.

#stranger things #wayne munson #eddie munson #steddie

801 notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 6 months

Text

ok listen so i saw this tiktok where this girl was at a concert and the singer gave her his ring to hold for a song and then didn’t take it back and i knew i had to steddie-fy it. enjoy!

Steve didn’t know what he was doing there.

Robin had dragged him along to this bar to chaperone for her date with some metalhead girl, but sometime during the night she had disappeared into the bathroom to go make out with said girl, and Steve had been left alone at the front of the crowd.

Look, he never said he was a good chaperone, alright?

And now the next band was coming out.

Corroded Coffin stepped onto the stage, and Steve felt his mouth go dry.

The guy in front, the lead singer, was the hottest fucking guy he had ever seen.

He had dark, curly hair, was dressed in skinny-as-hell jeans, and his shirt had the sleeves cut off, as well as most of the seams on the side. When he raised his arms, Steve caught a glimpse of ink under the shirt.

The guy wrapped a ringed hand around the neck of his guitar, smiling devilishly at the crowd. “Ready for the most metal concert ever?”

The crowd screamed their approval, and Steve screamed along with them, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. He knew he looked so out of place among them, his soft yellow sweater a spotlight against the sea of black clothing and silver chains.

The singer strummed an experimental note, then frowned down at his hands. “Dammit, wore the wrong ring today.” He slid a ring off his right knuckle, then peered at the crowd. “Here.”

He pointed at Steve, whose heart froze. He tilted his head. “Me?”

“Yeah.” He lobbed the ring at Steve underhanded, who caught it gently. “Hold that for the rest of the show, alright, pretty boy?”

The guy backed up and started the count for his band, but Steve didn’t even hear when they started to play. He was too busy staring at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. It was a cool silver, with an amber stone inlaid in it.

He slid the ring onto his pinkie.

“Holy shit, Steve!” came a familiar voice in his ear. It was Robin, hair messed up and makeup smeared. “These guys are good!”

He laughed. “I see you had fun.”

“Steve. Steeeve. She is so fucking hot, dude.” Robin said, splaying over his shoulder. “She went to- where’d you get that?”

She was looking at the ring.

“Uh,” Steve said dumbly. “He gave it to me.” He pointed up at the lead singer, whose hair was flying everywhere as he belted into the mic. His voice was amazing, like a wrecking ball crashing through Steve’s heart.

“No fucking way.” came a voice from Steve’s other side. Robin’s date, Emily or Amelie or something like that, he couldn’t quite remember, said. “Eddie Munson gave you a ring?”

“Yeah?” Steve said. He plucked the cup out of her hands and passed it to Robin, who drained it. “Why?”

“Because he never takes them off. There’s band interviews of them where his band mates are complaining because Eddie won’t share. And he just gave you one?”

A particularly loud stomp broke them out of their trances and made Robin fall off Steve’s shoulder. Eddie must have seen they weren’t paying attention, and decided to make them pay attention, by jumping and landing right by Steve’s head.

Steve jolted back up, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie winked.

Steve felt his face grow hot, and even though he tried to tell himself it was only the stage lights reflecting onto his face, he knew that wasn’t it.

Corroded Coffin may not have been Steve’s taste in music, but he couldn’t deny they were good. Eddie, of course, stole the show, his undeniable stage presence drawing everyone in.

Including Steve, of course.

By the time the set was over, Corroded Coffin packed up their shit and left the stage. Steve was preoccupied with getting home.

As the two of them exited the bar in a stream of other patrons, he looked down at his hand.

The ring Eddie had given him was sitting innocently on his pinkie, twinkling up at him.

“Shit.” he whispered.

“What?” Robin asked. “Steve, what is it?”

“His ring. I think I was supposed to give it back at the end of the show.”

“Aw, really?” Robin said. “And here I was thinking he proposed.”

Steve shoved her, then dragged her out of the way of the doors. “Shut up, I gotta return this before he reports it as stolen.”

“I think the only thing that’s stolen is my heart.” someone said from behind him.

Steve whipped around.

Eddie.

“That was…really, really corny.” Steve said, trying to regain his footing. His entire brain was screaming “HOT BOY” at him, so it wasn’t really working. He thought he made a valiant effort, though. Robin had slunk off to hide somewhere and watch from afar, the traitor.

Eddie shrugged. “Eh, opportunity came up, had to take it.” He held out his hand to shake. “Eddie Munson.”

Steve took it. “Steve Harrington.”

He slid the ring off his finger and made to drop it into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held up a hand. “Listen, I’ve decided you can keep it, but only if I get your number in return.”

“Really?” Steve crossed his arms, balling the ring into his fist. The cold metal pressed against his palm. “I’ve heard from one of your fans that you don’t even share your rings with your band mates. Why do I get one?”

“Let’s just say I’m curious about why a guy dressed like he just got out of a PTA conference is in my metal audience.” Eddie said.

Steve looked down at his sweater. “Okay, listen, it wasn’t a PTA meeting.” he said. “It was a bake sale.”

Eddie laughed. “Even better, Jesus. You’ve got to tell me more.”

“I’m free for lunch around one?” Steve offered.

“Perfect.” Eddie tapped his phone and offered it to Steve to put in his contact. “Text you soon, pretty boy.”

Steve was so preoccupied with watching him walk away, he didn’t realize he still had the ring.

#eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington

1K notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 8 months

Text

random headcanon about eddie

he used Wayne's fishing line to sew patches on his battle vest because it was the only kind of line he could find at home

#this is based in real facts #i just sewed a metallica patch on my jacket with fishing line #it actually looks good #eddie munson #eddie munson hc #eddie munson headcanon #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things #stranger things hc #random hc

8 notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 8 months

Text

Anna is so adorable, I already love this little headbanger

Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #dilf steve harrington #corroded coffin

4K notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 9 months

Text

Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #angst #friends to lovers #angst with a happy ending #idiots in love #mutual pining #famous eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #pathetic gay yearning #fluff #the one that got away #second chances #getting together

4K notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 9 months

Text

timezone.

word count: 1.3k

inspired by:

eddie munson x steve harrington

a/n: English is not my first language, so it might contain some mistakes, please be kind.

warnings: angst with a happy ending

eddie is feeling homesick after so many months on tour

— Hey Eds, we're going to that bar we saw down the street, are you coming?

— Nah man, I'm still kinda jetlagged, gonna rest a little bit.

Gareth knew he was lying, they've been friends for so long that he could know when Eddie were even breathing different. But all that knowledge also made him realize the tears stuck in his friend's throat, even though they were separated by the hotel bedroom door.

— Alright man, we're out, but call us if you need something.

Eddie didn't answer, but he knew Gareth would understand, he heard his friends footsteps going down the hall until the silence was his only company again.

It's been an hour since he entered this bedroom, an hour that his head is hurting, a whole pack of cigarettes is gone by now and he feels this pain covering his chest. He doesn't remember the city or even the country he is in now. Everything he can remember is Steve's sleepy voice on the phone.

This feels so wrong now... He should be happy, right? The band is doing great, they've been on tour for... Eddie lost count of the months by now... But he should be happy, he should be drinking with his friends, celebrating their success, because this was his dream right? Become a rockstar, have a successful band, playing all around the world, live from his music.

But he didn't even unpacked his clothes, he didn't see the view of the bedroom window that was booked specifically for him... He doesn't care, to be honest, the view might be great, but it's only gonna remind him that he's away from home.

It started when their manager said they would need to be on the road for more two weeks, but then those weeks kept multiplying, and now the sweaters he brought with him don't even smell like Steve anymore.

He kept calling everytime they landed in a new place, and Steve always answered, even when he was at work or when he was already sleeping, he always answered, he always said "love you, Teddy" before hanging off. And Eddie knew Steve was unhappy.

Their calls got shorter everytime, the distance got colder everyday... but Steve wouldn't admit it, of course not, he knew how important that was for Eddie, he wouldn't say those bad and selfish words that were floating on the back of his mind... asking for Eddie to come back home, to come back for him.

It's been so long since they left Hawkins, since they became each other's family, but now Steve's memories are tormenting him. Everytime Eddie calls, Steve can hear his mother's voice far away in his head "It's just one more business trip Steven, you know it's important, we're gonna be back soon, honey, you won't even realize the time passing by"... But he always realized the time passing, he always knew there'd be another business trip after that, but he never complained, because that was important, that was his dad's job, what kept the house, so he should just be patient and wait for them to come back.

...

Gareth, Jeff and Grant ran back to the hotel after the message Eddie sent on their groupchat, with only three words "I'm going home", but it was too late, everything they saw was the taxi leaving, and they knew who was that long brown curled hair sitting on the backseat. They were nervous, of course, what would they do without Eddie? How would they tell their manager? What would they do about next day's concert?

Their heads were spinning, but they weren't angry... to be honest, there was a light relief growing in their chest now, because Eddie's left meant a break. All of them were tired, that's why they were drinking in the goddamn daylight, how else could they go through that?

But after all their fights with the management, asking to go back home, to have days off... one of them was finally brave, maybe dumb, enough to go home, to ignore the contract, to breathe again.

Eddie always said he was a coward, but he was the bravest amongst them, and they always admired that.

...

He always hated sitting by the corridor side on the plane, but that was the only place he could get on the full flight. His leg was anxiously shaking, the old lady sitting beside him had a judgment look, but he didn't give a single fuck about that. He was finally going home, and his heart was beating so fast, he thought he could die any minute. But he wished he didn't, he couldn't die, mainly not right now, not before feeling Steve's arms around him again.

— Young man, can you please stop shaking your leg like that? You're disturbing me. — said the old lady, with a fake politeness.

— Sorry, I'm anxious to come back home, it's been a while since...

— I don't wanna know about this, just calm yourself down someway and stop disturbing me. — she said before opening her novel again.

In an usual day, Eddie would answer that, he'd tell the old lady to go to hell or he would be even more annoying just to piss her off. But right now he had no energy to even care about that, nothing else mattered. So, surprisingly, he decided to follow the upset lady's advice and calm himself down.

He needed to write, he needed to put all those words out of his chest, but he couldn't write on his phone's notes, no, he always hated that, so fucking old fashioned, he always wrote on paper, he believed the phone's keyboard blocked the words on his mind.

But he didn't have his journal with him either, packed his stuff so fast, his notebook was know inside his bag, surrounded by clothes. The pain in his head was coming back, he felt suffocated with those words crossing his mind. Luckily, he finally saw the flight attendant walking down the corridor.

— Excuse me... — he realized how his voice sounded loud and desperate, feeling some pairs of eyes looking at him now — Can you get me some napkins and a pen?

— Of course sir. — the flight attendant said with a polite and kinda confused smile on her face.

She came back about two minutes later, handed him a few napkins and a blue pen, still with a slightly confused look. Eddie just murmured a "thanks" and didn't even look to see her leaving.

His scrambled handwriting started filling the blank space, every word making him breath a little bit better because he could finally feel he was coming back home.

"You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I see your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm losing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I paid double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight"

He was going back home, and his heart was beating normal again, because every minute passed was one more minute closer to Steve, not his voice on the phone, not his face on a screen, not a stupid timezone of difference... Eddie was coming back home.

#steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #idk what this is #Spotify

9 notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 10 months

Text

I can see eddie mocking him because of that, like "Wheeler, why are you holding my boyfriend's boob in this picture? You want to confess something?"

steve decided to stop into the snow ball after dropping dustin off. he ended up bumping into mike and el and then someone from the yearbook staff wanted a quick photo. mike panicked and prom posed with steve. it made it into the yearbook and it haunts mike to this day.

#steve spilled punch on his sweater and thus the star wars t shirt #mike wheeler i know what you are #stranger things headcanons #stranger things 2 #stranger things #mike wheeler #eleven hopper #steve harrington #finn wolfhard #millie bobby brown #joe keery #dailyhawkins

502 notes · View notes

themunsonhorrorpictureshow · 10 months

Text

they're so stupid, I love them

and I'd totally have a horrible sex mixtape too, mine would probably be like Eddie's

+ Steve drumming and singing is so adhd coded, I'd do that too

steddie smut | 3k | AO3

Eddie lays on his back in Steve’s bed while his boyfriend flips through his box of tapes. He’s naked. Has been for a while, but Steve is still dressed in his ridiculously short shorts and one of Eddie’s t-shirts. Still looking for a specific tape, even though Eddie would be fine doing it without music at all because he’s been ready to go for like ten minutes now.

“Babe, just pick one,” Eddie sighs.

With no sign of Steve just picking one, Eddie lights up a cigarette and lays back against the pillows. He glances over at Steve as he blows smoke up toward the ceiling, and he reminds himself that he really likes Steve, even if he’s leaving Eddie hanging like this.

“Aha!” Steve finally exclaims. He pulls a tape out from the third box he looked through and waves it triumphantly for Eddie to see. He pops it into his cassette player and pulls his shirt over his head. “Are you ready for the Steve Harrington experience?”

The opening notes of Africa by Toto come through the speakers. Not a bad choice, but not Eddie’s first choice, either.

“Never say that again, you weirdo,” Eddie laughs.

Steve takes the cigarette from him and takes a drag before putting it out in the ashtray beside his bed.

“Is this your sex mixtape?” Eddie asks.

“Yes, it is, and it’s awesome,” Steve nods. “Now, where were we?”

He climbs onto the bed and straddles Eddie’s thighs.

“I believe you promised me a blowjob,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow.

“Hmm,” Steve hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think I did, but I think it could be arranged.”

Steve leans down to kiss Eddie on the lips, his hands coming up to rest on his bare chest. His fingers find the bar going through one of Eddie’s nipples and punches, causing Eddie’s breath to stutter and his cock to twitch. He had been hard when Steve stripped him from his clothes, mouthing at him through his underwear, but Steve fucking Harrington—

He had paused right after getting Eddie’s underwear off— a hand halfway reaching out to grip Eddie where he needed it most— and got off the bed.

“What?” Eddie had asked.

“I just remembered— I have an awesome sex mix tape,” Steve had said.

And that’s how Eddie had ended up laying naked on Steve’s bed, and his erection had quickly waned in the long minutes it took for Steve to actually fucking find it.

Now, though, with Steve’s mouth sucking at his neck, and fingers pinching his nipples and twisting the piercings, he’s more than interested again.

He pushes his hips up, rubbing against the soft fabric of Steve’s shorts, a moan falling from his lips. He needs more, he needs Steve’s hand or mouth wrapped around him, or something. Steve doesn’t give it to him, not yet, but he makes slow movements into the air above Eddie, fabric dragging much too lightly against Eddie’s cock.

Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie’s neck, gently smooths his thumb over the mark he sucked into Eddie’s neck. Eddie pulls him down for another quick kiss, and pushes at the waistband of Steve’s shorts to try and push them off. Steve helps him, and climbs off of Eddie long enough to kick them to the side and grab the lube from his nightstand.

“I want to fuck you,” Steve whispers when he’s back on the bed, hovering over Eddie’s body.

Eddie spreads his legs and moans his approval just as the song ends and another begins.

“Interesting choice,” Eddie laughs.

“Hey, You’re My Best Friend is a great song!” Steve protests.

“Maybe not for a sex mix?” Eddie suggests.

“Okay, well I don’t make fun of yours! And if I did, I would say the same thing about half of your songs,” Steve mutters.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie challenges.

Steve rubs a slick fingertip over Eddie’s entrance, spreading lube all over.

“Yeah. Your mix has Crazy Train on it,” Steve says. He presses one finger inside Eddie. “Twice.”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears at the intrusion. “Crazy Train has to be on it twice. Once to get me going and once to help me wind down after.”

The next song starts playing just as Steve works in another finger beside the first.

“Really, dude. This is not keeping me in the mood. I’m so distracted by how unsexy these songs are,” Eddie laughs. “It’s like you just picked songs you liked instead of setting a mood or sticking to a theme.”

“How is Gimme, Gimme, Gimme not sexy? Who are you?” Steve scoffs.

“Babe,” Eddie laughs, tossing his head back. “How are you a real person?”

“Shut up,” Steve says, leaning over Eddie to capture his lips in another kiss.

“My dick’s like not even hard anymore. That’s how unsexy I find this,” Eddie tells him.

Steve wraps his hand around Eddie’s cock and gives it a few strokes.

“Seems hard to me,” Steve whispers.

“I don’t know. I think I might need that blowjob you mentioned.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and lifts his hips up insistently.

Steve grins and moves down his body, keeping two fingers moving slowly in and out of him. He presses a kiss to the inside of Eddie’s thigh, then grazes his teeth over the sensitive skin.

“Please,” Eddie whispers.

He doesn’t need to say what he wants, Steve already knows. He sinks his teeth just a bit hard into the skin, causing Eddie to tense up with the pleasurable pain. He groans out Steve’s name and sinks a hand into his hair. Steve sucks bruises into each thigh, moving high and higher until he presses a kiss to the base of Eddie’s cock.

And fuck he thinks he might come right here, right now.

Steve recognizes this, pulls his fingers out and rests his head against Eddie’s hip bone for a second to let him cool down a bit. The song changes and Eddie throws his hands over his face to cover his laughing groan.

“Fucking Phil Collins?” Eddie asks. “I hate Phil Collins, dude.”

“Hey this song is awesome!” Steve protests.

“No, baby, it’s not. Please tell me this tape gets better or I’m not going to let you fuck me,” Eddie half-jokes.

“What gets better than this?“ Steve asks.

He leans back down and wraps his hand around the base of Eddie’s cock. He presses a kiss to the head and Eddie throws his head back against the pillow. Okay, maybe he can ignore In the Air Tonight as long as Steve gets his mouth on him expeditiously. He shuts his eyes and allows himself to just feel as Steve licks at him and kisses his shaft, slowly stroking him with his hand, not yet fully taking him in yet, but that’s fine, he’ll get there.

“So you can wipe off that grin,” Steve sings quietly, just above a whisper. He can feel Steve’s breath on him. “I know where you’ve been—”

(Or maybe he won’t get there, Eddie thinks to himself.)

“Steve Harrington, if you're using my dick as a microphone I’m going to kill you,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “Put that mouth to better use than singing, would you?”

“You don’t like my singing voice?” Steve asks innocently.

Eddie opens his eyes as he props himself up on his elbows. He’s up just in time for Steve to come back up so they’re face to face again.

“Give me a kiss,” Steve requests.

Eddie sits up fully and cups Steve’s face with his hands, pulling him in for a slow kiss.

Steve draws back just enough to speak.

“Now tell me you love me,” Steve whispers.

“I love you, Stevie,” Eddie breathes, going in for another kiss.

“And say you’re sorry for insulting my singing voice,” Steve says when he pulls back again.

“Never,” Eddie breathes with a quiet laugh.

Steve sings the next verse louder, right into Eddie’s face as he pushes him to lay down again. Steve finds the lube again, falling quiet as he concentrates on opening it and rubbing it between his fingers to warm it.

Eddie knows what comes next in the song, and as Steve moves two fingers inside him, he prays to all the gods he doesn’t believe in that Steve doesn’t do what Eddie thinks he’s going to do—

He does. He pulls his fingers out so he can do the drumming on Eddie’s spread thighs with his hands.

That has Eddie rolling out of bed and reaching for his underwear.

“Baby, where are you going?” Steve asks.

“Steve, I’m sorry, but I cannot fuck in these conditions,” Eddie says, pulling his boxers up and over his hips.

“Noo,” Steve whines. “It gets better! No more singing, or drumming, okay? Promise. I swear on Dustin’s mother.”

“Dude you are Dustin’s mother,” Eddie tells him.

He pushes his boxers back down though and settles into the bed again.

The song fades into the next and Eddie can live with it, he guesses. It’s not anything he would put on his own sex mix, but it’s fine.

Steve looks like he’s about to sing, though and Eddie gives him a pointed look.

“You’re on your last life, dude. Mess this up and it’s game over, bud,” Eddie tells him.

Steve mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key and Eddie laughs.

Eddie spreads his legs again and Steve bends down to kiss the scars covering Eddie’s abdomen. He works three fingers into Eddie this time and finally takes his cock into his mouth. Eddie isn’t so worked up anymore, but Steve’s ministrations quickly get him back to fully hard.

“Oh— fuck, baby, I’m ready,” Eddie decides.

Steve keeps good on his promise and even as Kiss On My List ends and Waiting for a Girl Like You begins, Steve seems to ignore the music. That makes it easier for Eddie to put it into the back of his mind.

Eddie reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom out of the drawer. He tosses it at Steve, who keeps stretching Eddie for just a little while longer.

He finally rolls the condom over his cock and lubes himself up and Eddie spreads his legs even further in anticipation. Steve presses against him, slowly inching his way inside. Eddie pulls him down for a kiss, his mouth hanging open on a moan.

The song comes to an end just as Steve bottoms out inside him, and in the few seconds between songs, Eddie adjusts to Steve’s cock inside him. Steve leaves wet kisses all over Eddie’s neck, grazes his teeth in the spots he knows drive Eddie wild.

Eddie almost doesn’t realize what song comes next, too in love and feeling too good to really process it, but when it clicks, it ruins the entire mood.

“Nope,” Eddie says, shoving Steve off of him. “Nope, dude. I’m not having sex to Cat’s in the fucking Cradle, dude. Fuck off.”

Steve looks absolutely lost, just sitting on the bed where Eddie pushed him.

“Get dressed and get in the car,” Eddie orders. He reaches down to pick up his own underwear again and finds his jeans. He has to force his dick inside and it’s near painful as he zips up his tight pants, but he’ll fucking manage. He pulls the tape out of the player and shoves it back into the case. It goes into his pocket.

Steve is still sitting on the bed, his dick hard between his legs, and his face completely and utterly confused, and a little hurt, too. Eddie walks over to him, kisses him on the forehead, and reaches between them to pull the condom off. Steve groans at Eddie’s touch, but Eddie doesn’t give him any more of that.

He tosses the condom in the trash and bends down to pick up Steve’s underwear and finds him a pair of pants because the shorts he wears around the house are completely indecent. He tosses the pants and the shirt Steve had been wearing earlier at his boyfriend.

“Get dressed. I’ll be in the car,” Eddie says again.

He stops to pee on the way, and he stops to drink a glass of water, too, trying to calm himself down a bit.

He feels like a bit of a dick, but really. Harrington has some issues if this is his ‘awesome sex mix,’ because wow.

Steve slides into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van with his arms crossed over his chest and a hurt look on his face.

“Hey, I love you,” Eddie tells him, reaching out to pat his thigh.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters. “Where are we going?”

“Joyce and Hopper’s.” Eddie answers as he puts his van in drive. He pulls away from the curb and ignores Steve’s questions.

The Byers wanted to move back into town shortly after the whole Vecna ordeal, but they had a lot of loose ends to tie up in California. They had to pack up the house and finish up the school year even if none of the kids cared about that school one way or another. Plus, Hawkins was in a state of complete disaster.

It took them a few months to finally make the move back, and now their moving truck has arrived, and just about everyone is over helping them unpack. Everyone except Eddie and Steve, who decided they deserved a night alone if the kids were otherwise occupied.

Eddie pulls up in front of the new house and kills the engine.

Steve looks like he’s about to combust in his seat, so Eddie just leans over and kisses him on the cheek and gets out of the car.

He walks right into the front door, which is open as people walk out to get new boxes to carry inside.

“Eddie!” Joyce greets him. “Oh I wasn’t expecting you boys!”

“We decided our time would be better spent helping you all. Isn’t that right, Stevie?” Eddie asks, turning to look at Steve behind him.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters again.

“Well, come in. Hop’s in the kitchen mixing drinks right now, so you better find him before he’s done if you want something,” Joyce says, leading them into the house. “We’ve still got furniture and tons of boxes to move in, so it’s good you strong boys are here.”

Eddie nods, grinning.

“Hey, I brought a tape. Can I play it?” Eddie asks.

“Oh of course, sweetie,” Joyce smiles.

Steve casts him a glare. Eddie smiles at him and goes to the stereo system, already set up. He lifts the needle on the record currently playing and pops the tape into the tape deck beside the turntable.

“Eddie please don’t,” Steve says.

“Sorry, baby,” Eddie grins. “It’s already playing!”

The opening notes of Africa come through the speakers.

“I didn’t think this was your style, Munson,” Hopper says as he comes into the living room.

“Oh, this is Stevie’s,” Eddie tells him.

“That makes more sense,” Hopper nods.

“Okay, but tell me if it makes sense to be his sex mix,” Eddie says.

“Eddie,” Steve pleads. “Don’t tell them that.”

“Well, I think it’s romantic,” Joyce says wistfully.

“Our sex is not romantic,” Eddie laughs. “Steve is one kinky motherfucker.”

“No I’m not?”

“Okay, baby, whatever you say,” Eddie winks. And the thing is— Steve isn’t really. Neither is Eddie, not the way he advertises himself, anyway, with the flagging and the cuffs on his wall. He doesn’t use those with Steve. They both have their things, sure, but Eddie finds Steve entirely endearing, and yes, he’s definitely a romantic even when they’re spitting in each other’s mouths and eating each other’s asses.

“I’m really not,” Steve whispers to Joyce.

She’s giggling, while Hopper looks completely affronted. Eddie doesn’t take offense to it. When they came out to Hopper and Joyce, Hopper had said ‘I don’t like this. Not because you’re gay or whatever, but because you two are kind of disgusting and weird.’ Which is really kind of true. That’s why Eddie has made it his mission to bother Hopper in any way he can by giving him details he never asked for.

The songs bleed into each other as Steve and Eddie help bring boxes in and move furniture around. Hopper makes weird faces when some of them come on, and Joyce can be found whispering in his ear at different times.

Nancy comes downstairs and Steve looks like he’s about to flee. Eddie grabs onto his wrist and pulls him near.

“Is this Steve’s?” Nancy asks amused suspicion on her face. Jonathan comes down right behind her and stops.

“Is this—”

“How do you know about this, Byers?” Eddie asks.

Jonathan looks really fucking uneasy, and maybe Eddie’s jealousy showed through just a bit too much, too much of an edge to his voice.

Nancy just fucking laughs.

“Don’t worry, Eddie, I told him,” she assures him. She comes up and pats his cheek, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry you have to go through this.”

“Hey! The ladies never complain!” Steve defends himself.

“And how many many of those ladies had a second date?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s face goes bright red.

Cat’s in the Cradle starts playing. Hopper walks over to the tape player and shuts it off.

“I should arrest you for that,” he says, throwing the tape at Steve’s chest.

“Eddie’s is so much worse!” Steve shouts.

“At least my songs are about fucking, dude!”

“Shh, the kids are here,” Joyce says, shushing all of them.

“Munson, where’s your tape?” Hopper asks.

“Oh, it’s uh, at home?”

“No, it’s not. We fucked in your van last night,” Steve reminds him. As if Eddie forgot. He rode Steve like his life depended on it, took a break to smoke a cigarette and eat a poptart, and then fucking did it again. He’s not forgetting that.

“Didn’t need that info,” Hopper mutters. “Go get it, Harrington.”

Steve pulls the keys out of Eddie’s pocket and runs out to the van.

The tape gets popped into the player and Eddie has to remind himself not to pop a stiffy after associating these songs almost entirely with fucking Steve for the last six months.

Crazy Train starts and Hopper furrows his brows and looks at Eddie.

“You said your songs are about fucking?” he asks. “I don’t want to know what you definition of fucking is, then, I guess.”

“Okay fine!” Eddie yells. “Maybe not all of them are, but at least they’re not about fucking, like, father-son relationships and daddy issues. Holy fuck.”

Hopper reads over the tracklisting that Eddie carefully wrote on it.

“Crazy Train twice?” he asks.

“To get him going and to wind him down, as he said earlier,” Steve answers before Eddie can defend himself.

“There’s a lot of WASP on here,” Hopper comments.

“Okay okay! Make fun of the freak, whatever,” Eddie mutters. “It’s not fucking Cat’s in the Cradle, though!”

“Maybe both of your mixtapes are bad, huh?” Hopper suggests.

“Like you could make a better one,” Eddie challenges.

“Oh, I have. Trust me, I have,” Hopper smirks.

“He has,” Joyce agrees.

“Ew, mom,” Jonathan mutters. “At least wait until I’m out of the room.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” Joyce says.

The conversation ends when the kids all come barreling down the stairs. Dustin throws himself at Steve, and Steve stumbles back as he tries to accept the hug. Eleven has one arm looped with Max’s, helping her carefully down the stairs. The two girls pull Eddie into a hug and ask if he wants to paint his nails with them and braid each other’s hair, and how could he say no to that?

He takes a glance at Steve, who doesn’t seem so mad anymore, and he agrees, but tells them to wait a minute.

He has to push through the boys to get to his boyfriend, and he leaves a smacking, wet kiss on his cheek.

“Love you,” Eddie whispers into his hair.

“Love you, too, baby,” Steve whispers, turning his face to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“Gross,” Max mutters. “You guys are so gross.”

“You can’t even see us, Red!” Eddie laughs.

“I can hear you! And you sound fucking gross!”

Maybe they’re gross. Maybe their mix tapes are bad. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They’re meant for each other.

on AO3

#steddie #st fic rec #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #idiots in love

282 notes · View notes