#Eddie Munson crush

[bettyfrommars]

Betty baby

how about a little one shot with Eddie and reader hooking up in readers car after a date 🥵

Ziggy my love, anything for you.

I did a lil twist on your request. I've been gone for a bit and this was the first thing I wrote when I got home yesterday, thank you for the much needed inspiration 🥹

Waste Away With Me

Eddie x older!fem!Reader

18+ONLY, smut, age gap, Eddie is in his early 20's and reader is in her early 30's, mutual pining, adoring!eddie, secret crush, friends to lovers, car sex, fingering, mutual masturbation, finger sucking, reader wears a skirt, well-timed but unfortunate Jimmy Buffet lyrics, reader is lonely and thinks she'll never find love. wc: 3.5k

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Eddie hadn’t meant to wait up for you to get back from a date with another guy like some lovesick dork, but it happened anyway.  

He was sitting on the couch in his trailer when he saw the headlights sift through the curtains and heard the gravel crunch under the wheels of your approach, settling in between your trailer and his.  

He tapped his cigarette into the full ashtray and looked at the clock; his heart fluttered in his chest, grateful that you were back earlier than expected.  Either the movie part of the dinner date had been skipped, or there had been little to no hanky-panky afterwards, and this fed into the delusion that he still had a chance with you.  

He waited impatiently to hear the clank of the heavy, metal door to your Buick LeSabre open and slam shut, hoping to hell you’d hadn’t brought this new guy home with you.  He could handle the thought of you going on a date with someone—barely—-but the possibility of you inviting someone back to your bed, or you getting serious about some other dude was too gut wrenching to bear.  

Don, your date’s name was Don, and when you’d told Eddie that he’d asked you out, Eddie wanted to show up at the fabrication shop where he found out Don worked and set his hair on fire.  

If the guy even had hair.  

You were maybe a decade older than Eddie, and Don was pushing 40, so maybe he was balding and hopefully you preferred long, shaggy hair and bangs that desperately needed a trim.  

What if Don made you laugh? The thought made Eddie scowl.  What if those adorable lines around your mouth made their appearance and you snorted a little bit all because of stupid Don? Eddie shot to his feet and went to the window.  

A good 10 minutes had passed, and he hadn’t heard you get out of your car, so he decided to take a peek through the side of the curtains.  What if Don was in the car with you, what then? What if he was kissing you? 

His stomach in knots, Eddie had to know, either way.

He experienced relief to find that you were, indeed, alone, but something else was wrong.  

Your hands were covering your face and your shoulders bobbed.  Your hands fell to your lap long enough for Eddie to see through the windshield that your mascara was running down your cheeks and your skin was wet with tears.

You fumbled with the single, pathetic, balled up tissue in your hands, as you sobbed.  The sobbing subsided for a few sniffles before there was another hitch in your chest and a whimper made you bury your face in your palms again.

But then a knuckle tap on your window made you jump.

Bent forward, with his face level to yours, Eddie was at the passenger side door, holding his hand up in greeting, lips folded in over his teeth into a pensive line.  As an answer to his silent ask, you moved your purse off the seat so that he could get in.  

You inhaled the warm, familiar scent of his Old Spice, nicotine, and leather.  There was an extra note of cologne on him that evening, as if he’d just sprayed something on before he came out.  

He saw you struggling to wipe your nose with that threadbare Kleenex and handed over the handkerchief from his back pocket.  

You held it out in front of you with pause, as if you were considering something.

“You can blow your nose on it, I don’t mind,” he said.  “In fact, it would be an honor.”

That elicited a snort-chuckle from you, and you did not blow your nose with it, but you did wipe snot off your lips and chin with a sad snarf.  

The inside of the car was dark, but for the yellow glow from the radio as Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins played.  Eddie saw the familiar end of a cassette tape sticking out of the stereo as if it had just been ejected.  

“So, the mixtape I made for you was that bad, huh? Too many ballads?” As if to suggest  that his horrible taste was what made you bawl your eyes out.  

You let your head fall back against the seat.  “No, I love it,” you said, dry throat making your voice crack.  “It’s the only thing I’ve been listening to all week.”

“Really?” He said it too fast, he was too excited. When he gave it to you, he said it was “no big deal” and he’d been making them for all of his friends, but that was a big fat lie.  He’d spent weeks planning out which songs to add to it, and in what order they should go in, so that it all flowed and told a story.  

A story about a next door neighbor with a serious crush.  

You pushed the tape all the way in until it clicked and Send Me an Angel by Scorpions softly lit up the speakers.

One of Eddie’s favorite things about you was that you were normally just as chatty and weird as he was.  A couple times a week, he’d come up on your porch for a beer, or go inside to share a joint, and the two of you would talk passionately for hours about some real oddball shit.  You were excitable and goofy, just like him, and you’d recently confessed that you hadn’t felt this comfortable with someone in a very long time.  

He overheard you telling one of your friends the other day that he was “like a brother” to you, and nothing could’ve smashed his heart or his hopes harder.  Being referred to as a family member is sweet, but also suggests that you’ve entered strictly friendzone territory.  

“Doooo you want to talk about it?” He stammered, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.  He’d be happy to just sit there and listen to music so you wouldn’t feel alone, if that is what you needed.  

“Not really,” you said in a small voice.  “I’m just never going on another date for the rest of my life, that’s all.”  

Eddie sat up and turned his whole body towards you, leather jacket squeaking on the seat, and made a fist on his knee.  “He didn’t…hurt you or anything, did he? If that Don guy said or did anything to make you upset I swear to god I will—”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you met Eddie’s gaze and were a bit taken aback at the intensity you found there.  “He was just so…boring, and we had nothing in common, and I felt so alone.”

Eddie sat back and swallowed.  A part of him wanted to kick up his heels and do a jig when you called Don boring, but the other part of him hurt to see you so sad.  

You sniffed and wiped under your eyes with his handkerchief.  “I’m the only one of my friends who’s still single, and I think I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I’m going to waste away in this trailer park and die alone.”

Eddie cocked his head, adding the touch of a smirk to his lips. “We can waste away together, here in Margaritaville.”

“You did not just quote Jimmy Buffet.”

“Oh, yes.  Yes, I did,” he bit his lip to hold back a smile. “Have you seen my lost shaker of salt, by chance?”

You stared down at your lap, indulging in a laugh or two before your expression turned somber again, forehead creasing.  “Why does everything have to be so hard? I thought finding true love was supposed to be easy, or at least easier than this nightmare of a reality I’m living in.”

“This is easy. We make sense,” is what Eddie wanted to say, but he choked and adjusted his feet on the floorboard instead.

You groaned and put your head back again, closing your eyes.  “I’ve been feeling so lonely lately, Eddie, like maybe I am the problem and I’m just unlovable.”

“Now that is crazy,” Eddie shifted closer, taking hold of your forearm to give it a squeeze.  He searched your profile, eyes landing on your parted lips.  “You’re so easy to love. I love—-”

My god, he really almost said it, out loud.

You turned  your head and opened  your eyes, waiting for him to finish.  

“...this song,” he recovered, turning the volume up a single notch. “I love this song.”  

It was Tangerine by Led Zeppelin.  

You closed your eyes again, feeling another tear building at the rim of your lashes.  

“But really,” he continued, shifting the volume down again.  “I mean, I get it, “he huffed air out of his nose and moved his hands around as he talked.  “Even when I’m with a bunch of people I still feel alone sometimes.  Like I’m the only person in the world who feels the way I do.”

“Yeah,” you gave a big sigh.  “Something like that.”

Another problem was that suddenly, almost overnight, you had developed feelings for your young, metalhead neighbor.  You pushed them down as much as you could and forced yourself to go on this date with Don to try and distract yourself from having sexual thoughts about a guy that was ten years your junior.  What would your friends think? A few of your friends were snobs, anyway, and expected you to marry a doctor, or at least an accountant; some stable man who could give you the picket fence dream.

But that was their dream, not yours.  

Besides that, Eddie had plenty of love interests.  You hadn’t seen him bring a date back to his trailer in months, but you’d been to one of his Corroded Coffin shows, and you saw the way the extremely cute college and high school girls looked at him.  

Eddie wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.  “I know I don’t have to tell you how beautiful and smart and amazing you are.  I mean, I’m sure you already know that.”

“Do I?” You asked, earnestly.  “Do I already know it?”

“Well,” his eyes shifted, not sure where to land.  “You should, I mean, none of the women in this town could ever hold a candle to you.”

Yikes.

Speaking of candles, was he blowing it?  The way things were going, it was only a matter of seconds before he admitted to jerking off to thoughts of you every time he got in the shower.  

You were both facing each other with your temples on the headrests.  “It means a lot to me,” you couldn’t meet his eyes, so you stared at his adam’s apple.  “That  you think I’m beautiful and amazing.”

“I should tell you more often, then,” Eddie said softly, his heart racing.  “Because I mean it.”

You looked down at your lap and the way you were absently picking at the ends of his handkerchief.  “I wish I’d met someone like you when I was your age.”

The statement confused him a bit and he squinted. “Someone…like me?”

“Oh, you know,” you cleared your throat. “Someone I have a lot in common with, someone who makes me laugh,” you trailed off.  “Someone I’m really attracted to.”

Eddie froze.

No one moved or said anything for a full minute.

“You’re attracted to me?” His voice trembled.  

“Isn’t it obvious?” You gave a sharp, self-deprecating laugh. “Sometimes I’m sure the entire trailer park knows, and they're all judging me.”

The revelation made a little squeaky sound escape his throat.  “But you said I was like a brother to you?”

You gave a confused smile for a split second, wondering where he might’ve heard such a thing, and then recognition dawned.  “Oh, well I told my friend Judy that because I talk about you so much, I didn’t want her to think that…that you and I were…or that I was…”

“That you and I were what?”  Eddie’s ears were ringing, all kinds of hope bubbling in his chest.

You got quiet again, wondering how far you wanted to take this conversation.  

“Listen,” Eddie shifted to look at you with flushed cheeks.  “I might be reading all of these signals wrong, but I want to kiss you so bad right now, it’s fucking killing me–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

And then you dove for each other and had a meeting of mouths that was all teeth and wrestling tongues.  Your seatbelt jerked you back, and you pulled away from him only to unbuckle it and throw it from your lap with a metal thump.  

You’d never experienced this before; it was less like being kissed and more like being devoured, all feverish sucks and nibbles and eager moans.  He held your face in his hands as you began to climb up and over to him.  “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” he hushed against your lips.

The seats in your ‘68 Buick were spacious, and once your knees were straddled on either side of him, you cupped your hands around his throat and said, “touch me Eddie.”

Eddie’s hands stopped in the air, unsure of where to go, but then intuition had him put them on the bare skin of your thighs under your skirt and move them up your panty line.  He brought a thumb down and passed it over the material, “you want me to touch you, like this?” As he said it, he found the top of your slit through your underwear and began pressing small circles there.

“Yesyesyes,” you pulled off of him just enough to meet his eyes.  His cock twitched at the way you bucked your hips in his lap, eager for his touch.  

“I love it when you look at me like that,” he breathed.

“Like what?” You slotted the side of your nose against his and brushed your lips together.

“Like I make you happy,” he punctuated it by dragging his thumb up and down in that concentrated area.  

You threw your head back, exposing your throat for him to lick a stripe up, sucking some skin in softly to nibble.

You were fully grinding on him as you found his mouth again with yours.  “I want…to make…you…happy…too,” you said between hot kisses.

His thumb smoothed down low enough to feel how much of your arousal had soaked through. “Honestly, sweetheart? I could die right now and be the happiest man alive.”

You could feel his cock grow thick and stiff in his denim as you rode him, and one of your hands went down there to fumble at the button and zipper on his jeans.

“I want to touch you,” your pussy actually rippled like a jellyfish climbing in the sea at the idea of having him inside of you. Once your thumb met with his leaky tip, you circled the head and Eddie groaned.

“Sit back for me,” he whispered.  With his thumb still working your clit, you let your back rest on the glovebox and watched him pull his impressive length out.  He kept his eyes on you, giving it a few short jerks while flicking his tongue out to wet his lips.

From that vantage, with your skirt up around your waist, he could see how damp the light purple of your panties were, and more milky liquid appeared at his tip.  You pulled down the straps of your dress and released your breasts from the cups of your bra.

“Oh my godddd,” Eddie’s thumb worked faster on you, trying not to stroke his cock the way he wanted to because he was about to cum.  “You’re so sexy, holy shit.”

You pushed off the dash and came closer, needing to be close to him.  With your arms around his neck, Eddie’s fingers bypassed the cotton barrier and sank into your slick honey pot with a hiss and a curse.  First one finger, and then two, and you reached down between the two of you to stroke him, making you both exchange moans of pleasure.

“Wait wait,” Eddie halted, continuing to thumb your spot. “I’m gonna cum like, right now.”

“That’s okay,” your hand stilled, but you bobbed up and down so that his fingers were fucking you.

“I can’t,” he gulped, breathlessly resting his forehead on yours. “Not before you.”

The thing about Eddie was that he could get hard again really fast for a second and third time, at least that’s how it was when he masturbated, but he wasn’t sure how to tell you that.  

You shifted back against the glove box again, pulling your underwear to the side so that he could watch his fingers go in and out of you.  You guided his hand out and brought his dripping fingers to your mouth to suck on them, loving the way his callouses felt on your tongue.

Eddie's eyes were locked on the action, muttering, “ohmygodohfuck.”

“Let’s do it together,” you breathed, biting your lip.  You brought your own fingers to your slit and began the same circles Eddie had done, speeding them up.  Eddie dipped his fingers inside of you again, scissoring them, picking up as much of your gift as he could before bringing them out in a mess to wet his cock with it. Your mouth fell open, watching his length glisten as he stroked it, never breaking eye contact with you.  

His gaze dipped to your breasts briefly to watch you twist your hard nipple between thumb and forefinger, whimpering as your other hand moved faster.  “Eddie..Eddie! See what you do to me?”

“Ahhhh,” Eddie held his thumb on his tip, right on the verge, and buried two fingers from his other hand inside you again.  Your tight walls fluttered, clenching him, and the look on your face as you got close was too much for him to handle.

“This is—-oh fuck I’m cumming,” he gasped.

“Cum on me, cum all over me,” you begged, just in time for him  to aim the joystick in your general direction, pumping hot white ropes onto your hand and cunt.

You watched him milking it as he twitched, and you rubbed his spend down your folds.  You held his wrist to keep his fingers inside of you, and then your eyes were rolling back as your release exploded.  

In the aftermath, the two of you took a minute to catch your breath.  There was cum and saliva everywhere and neither one of you seemed bothered.

“This is the best part,” Eddie mumbled, taking his fingers out to suck the result of your orgasm off of them.  

“Shit,” you lifted your head and looked around with a giggle.  “We fogged all the windows up.”

“Good,” he clutched  your waist to shift you and pull you closer.  “That way no one can see us.”

Your car was blocked between the two trailers, but being seen by someone out walking their dog at night was always a risk.  A risk that did not seem to have an ounce of importance at the moment.  

You put your forehead to his and smoothed your thumbs over his cheeks, rocking so that the drips from your cookie box landed on his exposed length.  “What I meant to say earlier is that I have this big, stupid crush on you, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie adjusted your skirt so that you were properly covered, and pulled you flush to him so that no one could get a cheap look at his girl's gorgeous tits.  

His girl.

He wasn’t sure if you knew it yet, but you had his heart, and you could do whatever you wanted with it.  

You ducked your head down to rest it on his shoulder and his hand cupped the back of your neck.  “I’ve been wanting to ask if I could maybe take you on a date sometime?”

He was serious, but the timing made you laugh.

Eddie always made you laugh.

“I’m never going on another date ever again, remember?” The side of your mouth pressed into his shoulder and you wiggled closer to him. A part of you wondered if you were squishing him, like maybe his legs were asleep, but his hold on you was unrelenting.  

“Oh damn, that’s right,” his other hand rubbed up and down your back. “I missed my window of opportunity thanks to Don.”

“I guess we’re stuck with more of whatever this was,” you murmured.

“Poor us,” Eddie smirked.  “We might have to do more of this again in a few minutes.”

“If we have to.”

“Hey,” he nudged you so that you lifted up to meet his dark, searching eyes. “Kiss me if you’re mine.”

You were both smiling as your lips met, and it wasn’t long before you led him by his hand into your trailer while he hummed the chorus to Margaritaville.  

[hllfireclb]

Best friend Eddie, who sneaks into your room in the middle of the night because you called him, crying your eyes out because of a nightmare you had :( It was just a silly dream in which you lost your best friend to the "Queen of Hawkins High“ , also known as Chrissy Cunningham, even though you know they barely know each other…maybe talked once or twice but just because of you, since you’re kinda close with her. Dreaming of loosing the boy who you‘ve been crushing on since a whole year now to one of your other friends, it caused you to wake up covered in cold sweat and hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

After Eddie heard your trembling voice on the other end of the line, he didn’t waste a second. Trying to calm you down at first before he hangs up and rushes to his bedroom again, putting on some random clothes and running to his old van to drive over to yours. His knuckles softly meet the cold glass of your window before he climbs inside your bedroom, after you opened it for him. He‘s been a professional with that by now.

Now you’re here.

Lying between his legs and on top his chest, head hiding in the crook of his neck while your quite sobbs fill the room. His hands stroke over your body softly, reminding you that he‘s right here with you and that he‘s not planing on leaving any time soon. The shirt he wore when he arrived lingers on your body now. It‘s one of his habbits, to give you his stuff when you feel anxious because he knows that his scent calms you down. It doesn’t matter if it‘s his clothes, his cologne, his pillow…it really doesn’t matter to him.

"Thanks for coming over Ed‘s…I just..I had such a bad dream" you mumble into his skin, giving him soft goosebumps all over his body. "There’s no need to thank me Darling. I’d always do it again." You smile at his words. A moment of silence. "You wanna talk about it now Sweets?" His hand strokes over the back of your head while his eyes look down at you. All you do is shake your head as a response, feeling way too embarrassed to tell him what you actually dreamed about. He nods.

It takes some time for you to fully relax again but when you do, you fall asleep on top of him, causing his lips to form into a soft smile. His mouth softly meets your scalp before his own eye lids slowly close by their own and he falls asleep with you in his arms. For the rest of the night you‘re being used as a teddy bear but to be honest, you don’t mind at all. Eddie learned one thing about himself that night.

He would do anything for you.

masterlist

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[morganbritton132]

Eddie goes up to Hopper like the world isn’t about to end and is like, “How’d you bag a babe like Joyce Byers? She’s so out of your league. How’d you do it?”

Hopper just sputters because rude and he knows. Before he can even answer, Murray’s annoying ass cuts in, “They argued all the time until the sexual tension got too high.”

“Arguing,” Eddie nods, taking that in. “Got it, I’m on the right track.”

Then he turns around and yells on the top of his lungs, “Harrington! I think Abba sucks!!”

“Are you kidding me right now, Munson?!”

[batbitten86]

elementary school teacher steve harrington who is married to rockstar eddie munson that is completely taken care of, he doesn’t need to have a job but loves teaching kids so much. he just wants to make sure these kids have a safe space because school was always his place to get away from his parents and eventually the empty house, so he uses all of the salary he gets from teaching and just puts it back into his classroom and the kids he teaches he just wants to make sure everyone feels special in his classroom. (and the kids think it’s a magic trick he’s able to get a real life ROCKSTAR to show up to his classroom to bring him flowers or lunch)

[steddielations]

Eddie stumbles into his queer awakening because he starts obsessing over why none of the girls Steve hooks up with actually want to date him. Eddie doesn’t even know what "perfect boyfriend material" is, but he knows it’s Steve.

Steve is confident but not full of himself like Eddie once thought. He’s romance novel level protective. Girls love that shit right? And he surprisingly has a goofy side, a sassy one too, and it’s all wrapped in charm that makes it work.

Sometimes Eddie even feels like Steve is flirting with him… Smiling at him when he comes to the video store, leaning over the counter close to him, looking at his lips even when he’s not talking. 

It flusters Eddie, makes his heart beat funny and puts a strange warmth in his stomach. The way he imagines any girl in Steve’s beamer feels when he kisses her while some radio love song plays, but Eddie assumes Steve has that effect on everyone. Right? Eddie doesn’t get a lot of attention like that, he can never tell when he has a crush or he’s just happy a girl gave him a look that wasn’t annoyed.

Then once, Eddie’s renting a movie and Steve asks to join him later, but he frames it like he’s asking Eddie on a date, giving Eddie that look that makes his stomach flutter and Eddie just can’t take it anymore.

Eddie blurts out, “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It hits him all at once as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

Oh.

Part 2

[arelliann]

This one goes out to @corrodedbisexual for the ref and idea because I couldn't resist having a go

[steddietogo]

Metal head musician Eddie Munson’s black cat Strider who loves pop music and screams at Eddie every time he picks up his electric guitar.

Strider’s favorite is pop princess Steve Harrington’s newest album. Eddie knows each song word for word (he’ll never admit it)

[unkreativstermensch]

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie: Why looking so sad, big boy?

Steve, sighing: It's just so hard to find an alpha who’s willing to get me pregnant these days :(

Eddie, an alpha who had disguised as a beta for years: …

Eddie: Listen, this might be a total surprise but I can actually re-present right now—

[n33dlew0rk]

I, too, am small but feisty

I’m thinking about Steve cleaning the pool while Eddie is half asleep on a deckchair. 

He’s slick with sweat, carefully pulling the skimmer net through the warm water, catching leaves and quite an array of dead bugs.

He’s nearly done when, all of a sudden, from the woods surrounding the backyard, comes something hurtling directly towards the pool. It’s just a small brownish undefined shape, but it still startles Steve (you know, otherworldly creatures tend to have a soft spot for Hawkins’ forests, fields, malls, whatever).

He hurries to the other side of the pool as soon as the little thing falls right into the chlorine water with an uncoordinated splash. 

As he gets closer, Steve sees a little squirrel gasping for air and barely managing to keep his chestnut-coloured head out of the water.

He tries to extend the skimmer pole towards it, but the small animal desperately swims away from the aid instead.

Hearing the commotion, Eddie abandons his innocent slumber and merely opens one eye, catching Steve slowly descending into the water. He can only see his toned, sunkissed back as Steve corners the little guy into safety.

Eddie lets himself ogle briefly, it’s not like there's someone around to judge him, after all.

“Come on, buddy”, Steve says softly, trying not to scare the squirrel even more. “Let’s cooperate and get you out of here before you end up drinking half my pool away”.

Eddie snickers silently at the interaction and stares intently as the other man finally succeeds in picking up the small animal. 

“There you go, there you go, buddy”. The squirrel is clearly frightened, squiggling and breathing fast between Steve’s fingers. “Hush now, your heart is gonna explode if you don't calm down a bit”.

Slowly, with a firm but delicate grip, Steve starts to pat the squirrel’s face dry with the fabric of his swimsuit. The little animal’s chest slows down its heaving, but its eyes are still wide and wary. 

After a minute or so of Steve carefully petting the squirrel with his fingers, letting the hot afternoon sun help reduce the soaked status of the little one, he tries to loosen the grip. 

A soft smile gracefully appears on his lips “See? All better now. Wasn't that bad, wasn't it?” 

Eddie feels a weird warmth blooming in his chest at the sight, fondness making its way through his thoughts, waking him up fully from his nap.

The creature seems to look at Steve for a few seconds.

The idea of having a pet squirrel pops up in the young man’s head but is quickly abandoned as the squirrel promptly turns on its little legs, leaves a good chomp on Steve’s palm and, with a small jump, speeds towards the forest, to safety.

Steve flinches, shaking his hand to alleviate the pain “small but feisty, uh?” he chuckles. There’s a little blood, but nothing to worry about. He gets up, thinking of where he stocked the first aid kit around the pool house. 

Suddenly, as Steve approaches the shed’s doors, another way bigger, splash comes from the pool behind his back.

Turning around, Steve sees Eddie emerging from the water, hair sticking on his face and a dead serious expression. With one hand, he frees himself from the long wet curls clinging to his cheeks, but his attention is all on Steve.

“I, too, am small but feisty, Harrington.” The metalhead shakes his head to get rid of some water, then looks up at Steve again, smirking and making grabby hands “Save me?”.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[morganbritton132]

Eddie keeps trying to take Steve on a date but Steve keeps bringing Robin with him because he thinks it’s a group hang. Eddie begs Nancy to get up the nerve to ask Robin out to fix this problem, and she does.

Robin brings Steve on the date.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[nburkhardt]

Thinking about Mike dressing like Eddie but not having a crush again. He just thinks Eddie’s so fucking cool

No no, Mike has a crush on Steve. Which he fucking hates by the way. But he also has hearts in his eyes whenever Steve smiles or laughs, because that boy definitely can’t hide it.

[bleedingoptimism]

Eddie was ugly when he was a kid. Ugly with a capital U. And not like, his peers said he was, so he thought he was ugly, but he really wasn’t, no. He was UGLY. Big bottomless eyes, a big round nose, big mouth, full lips, small face, and with his head shaved even his ears looked too big. Plus he was thin and long-limbed... He looked like a bug! He was U-G-L-Y

But it’s okay. It’s just a universal truth and not a problem anymore because he grew up. And he grew into the too-big features that made him look bad. Now they are part of his charm. He grew up and he looks good now, and he knows it. His big dark eyes, his round nose, and his plump lips are attractive features now. 

The thing is, it didn’t bother him then, and it doesn’t bother him now. It’s an inconsequential matter, laughable really. So why is he wrestling Steve Harrington in his living room to stop him from looking at the photo he found while cleaning up Wayne’s trailer? Who knows, maybe, and just maybe he doesn’t want to hear Steve call him ugly. Maybe he’s vain like that. Maybe he doesn’t want the most beautiful boy he’s ever met to think he’s ugly. Maybe he doesn’t need confirmation that Steve will never notice him like that because he’s so out of his league they are not even playing the same sport. Not that Eddie knows anything about sports. Whatever.

Steve had come over to help him move out. He is moving in with Jeff to a tiny place that’s closer to college and Eddie had wanted to surprise Wayne by giving him back his room and leaving it spotless and fit for a grown man. And Steve had kindly offered to help when he’d told him about it.

They were just finishing up boxing some books when a photo fell out of an old copy of Moby Dick. Why was it there in the first place?! Eddie’s eyes had gone wide when he saw it was a ridiculous photo of him, standing straight and with a huge smile on his face hanging on to a pass-me-down backpack on his first day of school. He’d dived to the floor to try and grab it but when Steve saw he didn’t want him to see what it was…

Steve wanted to know what it was now, obviously.

He took the photo and ran back to the living room, screaming and laughing with Eddie close behind as he screamed bloody murder and jumped on top of him, clinging to his back. Steve stopped just long enough not to let him fall but then started running again trying to shake him off. Eddie let himself fall off Steve and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close to him to try to grab the photo that Steve, giggling uncontrollably, was keeping at arm's length.

Eventually, when their lungs couldn’t get enough air, they stopped struggling and sighed in unison, which prompted another laughing fit. And then, Steve looked at the photo, with Eddie still holding onto him from behind, looking over his shoulder.

When he saw the picture again Eddie flinched waiting for Steve’s laugh. And laugh he did but not meanly, instead he said,

“Oh my god, Eddie you were so cute!” 

“Shut up. No, I wasn’t” he answered with a scoff. Then, and just then, he noticed the position they were in. How close he was standing to Steve. He swallowed loudly and looked at Steve, to see if he noticed too, to see if he’d pull away.

But Steve was smiling at the photo, biting his lip and letting little giggles escape from time to time, “You were!” he insists. 

Eddie laughs, “Dude, stop I was not. You don’t have to mean about it” starting to get a little annoyed but Steve shakes his head looking way too sincere.

“You are not serious,” Eddie frowns searching his eyes which are still looking at the picture, “Look at my tiny face and the ears!” He says exasperated.

Steve chuckles again, “I know, they are huge! And the eyes! Oh my god- You looked like a bug Eddie-!” he laughs, and yep. There it is. Eddie thinks bitterly- “You were so pretty!” Steve exclaims actually cooing at him.

And wait- 

“You are ridiculous” Eddie laughs and Steve finally turns to look at him and notices how close they are. He blushes furiously and Eddie is so close to his face that he can feel the heat on his cheeks now. Eddie removes his hands from Steve’s waist so he doesn’t feel trapped by him, but moves his face a fraction closer and smirks flirtingly at him, “Were?” he asks.

Steve blinks at him and Eddie can feel his eyes moving across his face as if it were a caress. He looks at his eyes, his nose, his jaw, his lips, he swallows and his eyelids fall a little before he looks back up at Eddie’s eyes and smiles shyly before he says, “Are. You are pretty.” and Eddie closes the distance between them. 

💋

a drink? ☕🥐💕