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radioactiveparker · 8 months ago

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The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Chapter Summary - We begin to learn the truth about why these kids are the way they are. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Kleptomania / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Drug References / Stereotyping / Angst

Word Count - 7.2k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

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Saturday.

October 25th, 1984.

Hawkins High Library.

10:30am.

~~~~~

After that rather thrilling event courtesy of Eddie Munson and Principal Higgins, the next two hours went on forever.

The grinding of gears, the hum of the electric motor, and the movement of the clock's hands invaded the silence. The second hand made a rapid clicking sound. You counted each one. At twenty-second intervals, the minute hand squeaked. The clock sounds became the percussion for a lullaby that almost lulled you to sleep.

Eddie remained seated next to you, spending the better part of an hour sulking that he had just wrecked the rest of his winter. The rest of the time, he spent scratching markings into the table with his car keys (which you immediately told him to stop out of annoyance. He ignored you, of course) and counting all the pictures he can see in the medullary rays of the wood. In his mind, he connected the lines and dots. Before his eyes, they formed the crude outline of a shapely woman with her legs rudely spread apart. He used the notebook paper to cover it up. He did not want to spend the next five and a half hours with a boner he couldn't get rid of. Especially one given to him by something as ridiculous as an imaginary table lady.

Steve was lazily picking off the fuzz of a tennis ball that he found in the lost and found box behind the front desk, piling it up in a small illuminous heap. The bald patches reminded him of principal Higgin's round, balding head. He picked at it harder, really digging his fingernails into the stringy felt like it had personally offended him.

Nancy was trying to write her paper. Normally, the undisturbed silence would be prime time to work on an essay, but she began staring off into space, her mind wondering. All she had managed to write was a title 'Who Am I?', her name, the date, and the time. Each time she would bring herself back to reality, she would check her watch, then erase the time and write the new one.

Robin was hunched over, hidden in her hair as she scribbled over her cherry red converse. She wrote whatever came to mind; her name, milk duds, a drawing of the top half of a naked woman, a copy of her fingerprint. She kept going until the red had almost disappeared.

You rested your head in your palms, eyes looking up as you counted the tiles on the ceiling. You got to thirty eight when Eddie nudged you. You opened your mouth to scold him for making you lose count, when he slid a sheet of paper over to you. He'd drawn a tic-tac-toe grid and placed an X in the centre square. You grabbed a pencil and drew a circle in the top right corner, deciding to keep him entertained before he starts causing more trouble. He smiled cutely when you slid the paper back to him.

The two of you played until both sides looked like a gingham tea towel. Much to your distaste, you lost 38 - 43. Eddie pulled tongues as the victor and you decided then to never play tic-tac-toe with Eddie again; you didn't want his head getting bigger than it already was.

The library door swung open and Principal Higgins stood with a scowling face.

"All right. Who has to go to the rest room?"

All hands shot up.

Higgins gave a single nod, signalling that everyone could get out of their seats. You groaned in relief when your spine cracked, though you still had pins and needles in your left foot and your butt was numb from sitting on it for too long. The Principal lead you all down the hall to the restrooms, where he unlocked them with a jingling of keys.

"Two minutes for the boys. Three minutes for the girls." He stared at his watch like he was already starting the count down.

"How come they get an extra minute?" Eddie complained, pointing at the group of girl who all had their arms crossed, looking at him like the answer was obvious.

"Try and remember your biology, Munson." Principal Higgins rolled his eyes, still staring at his watch.

"Oh, right. Does that mean Harrington gets another minute?"

Annoyed, Steve pushed through into the bathroom. Eddie followed behind, laughing manically.

The two of them rarely used the schools restroom, even for Eddie who was kind of a slob, they were too disgusting. Students only ever really used them to hide when skipping classes. The walls were covered in graffiti and a few of the tiles were cracked, and there was always something on the floor that made the bottom of their shoes sticky. They didn't even want to try to guess what it was. Steve stood in front of the urinal and unzipped his jeans. Eddie hopped onto the countertop and fished through his hair to retrieve the cigarette from behind his ear.

"You want one?"

Steve took a peek behind him. "Oh yeah, ten of 'em please. I need to prove I'm a man."

"Whatever man." That was the last time Eddie would offer Steve anything ever again.

He fumbled in his pocket, took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.

Meanwhile, the state of the girls bathroom wasn't much better. The floors were less sticky, but there was always tissue all over the place, and a funny smell in the air.

"Is this a drag, or what?" You looked at your tired eyes in the reflection and started complaining about them to the girls.

Nancy rummaged through her purse, pulling out perfume bottles, make-up, compacts, brushes; an incredible amount of things that she probably didn't need. Nancy very helpfully let you borrow the make-up out of her bag. You were looking as good as new in no time.

"You want one?" Robin pulled out a pack of spearmint gum and stuck one in her mouth.

You looked at her repulsed. "Robin, you can't eat in the bathroom. What if you get VD of the mouth or something!"

She paused like she hadn't thought about that. She quickly walked to the sink and washed her hands. She grabbed a paper towel to dry them and then used it to open the door. She held the door open with her foot, wadded up the paper towel and made a three pointer into the waste bin. A shot that even Steve would find impressive, even if she did surprise herself making it in the first place. She didn't show that though.

"You're into washing your hands, but you eat inches away from a live toilet?"

She gave you an offended glare her, and left the bathroom, letting the door close on you and Nancy. You turned to Nancy and gave her a look that said 'I'm not crazy for thinking that am I?'.

"I mean that was a little disgusting, but you could have worded it a bit nicer."

She walked out, leaving you wondering whose side she was on.

"I didn't mean to upset you." You called after Robin. "I was just reacting to something I thought was seriously weird. I mean, I'll listen if you needed some one to talk to about it."

Robin didn't give you the time of day, just rolled her eyes to herself. She didn't appreciate the way you worded your apology; like she was the one with the problem.

"Let's go. Shake it off!" Higgins called into the boys bathroom.

Even with the extra minute you were given, the girls still managed to be done before the boys. Eddie opened the door, smelling strongly of tobacco.

"Where's Harrington?"

"Drowned." Eddie said bluntly.

The Principal crossed to the door and peaked his head in. "Alright, Harrington, c'mon. Lets go!"

Steve made a few final adjustments to his hair, raking his fingers through it to position his chestnut curls perfectly on his head. Principal Higgins dragged him out before he could finish.

~~~~~

11:30am

~~~~~

You laid across three chairs as some sort of make shift bed and tucked your coat underneath your head for a pillow. You had planned to take a nap, but Nancy had decided to sharpen her pencil. The winding and grinding of the sharpener grated your ears. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn't seem to get a good point on her pencil. She took it out of the sharpener, blew the dust from the tip, and examined it before shoving it back in. She had three quarters left of her pencil.

Steve had a straight leg on the front table and reached over to touch his toes, stretching his hamstring. How he did it in those jeans was beyond you. His little grunts of effort and heavy breaths as he switched legs annoyed you almost as much as Nancy's sharpening. Robin was in her same seat, picking at her black, chipped nails in her lap and chewing her gum loudly out of spite. How you had gone from sitting in hours of silence, to a sudden ruckus when you wanted to sleep was just your luck.

Eddie had chosen to sit in front of you on the table, ripping out pages of textbooks from the history section.

Nancy winced at each tear. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Princess? I'm vandalising public property." He said it like it was obvious, loudly ripping another page to emphasise his point. "You get off on being stupid, or something?"

"You're such a waste."

Eddie placed the book gently on the table, giving it a few taps for good measure. He sat up straight, hands on his knees like a teachers pet. He nodded sarcastically in agreement. "You're absolutely right. It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun."

He jumped down off the desk, kicking up loose pages as he stalked over to his next victim: the card files. He pulls out the entire draw completely and lugged it back over to his spot on the desk. The unexpected slam of it on the table startled you, and you sat up with a huff. There was no way you were getting sleep any time soon.

Nancy scoffed as he began yanking the catalogue cards out and putting them back in a random order, creating a horrible mess for someone to sort out later. She continued to grind the sharpener.

"Big deal." You mocked her, she and the sharpener were really starting to get on your nerves. "It's not like there's anything better to do."

Eddie was impressed. He turned to you. "You grounded tonight?"

His question threw you off, but you knew there was definitely more to it. "No, why?"

He looked surprised that you weren't, but he didn't know that your parents weren't even aware you were here in the first place. "Reefer Rick is throwing a Halloween party down by Lover's Lake tonight. Wanna come?"

Apparently, all it took was a few games of tic-tac-toe to get into Eddie's good books. There was a part of you that wanted to go. It was another excuse to get away from your parents, but you didn't want to imagine the shit you would get from Carol if she found out you had gone to a party with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Then Billy crept back into your mind. Your blood went cold at the thought. You knew he wasn't here, but you expected him to come charging through the doors any second now. You had to make sure he knew you weren't interested in Eddie. You didn't want another repeat of this morning.

"Why would I want to go to that crackhead's place? I'll probably catch a disease."

Eddie looked a little disappointed and a little offended that you had insulted his friend, but he hid it well. So why did you feel kind of bad?

You looked up at him with big eyes. "I mean, my mom doesn't like me going to parties anyway."

"What about your dad?"

"If I do what my mom doesn't want me to it's because my dad says it's okay. And if I do what my dad doesn't want me to it's because my mom says it's okay. It's like this whole big monster deal. It lasts forever and it's a total drag. It's like any minute: divorce." You hated talking about your parents, but I felt good to get off your chest. Carol and Tommy never cared to ask.

"Who do you like better?"

"Huh?"

"You like your old man better than your mom?"

"They're both screwed." You sighed. You didn't like where this conversation was headed anymore. Nancy had stopped sharpening her pencil and you could feel everyone listening in.

"If you had to pick?"

"I don't know. I mean, they must have loved each other at some point, but I guess I wasn't around for that part. So I don't think any of them really care about me either. They just use me as ammunition in their little wars."

"HA!" Your response had provoked a laugh from Robin. A laugh that let you know she thought you deserved it. She was more offended by that comment in the bathroom than you had thought.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself." Steve added, shaking out his legs.

You didn't find it very fair that they were ganging up on you all of a sudden. "If I didn't, nobody else would."

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." But Steve didn't sound sincere at all. You weren't enjoying this side of Steve one bit. And it was all because of Billy.

"Do you get along with your parents?" Eddie sided with you.

"If I say, yes, I'm a real idiot, right?"

"I think you're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, you'll be a liar, too."

"You know something, I've just about had it with you. If we weren't in school, man, I'd wail all over you. They'd have to pick you up with tweezers."

Eddie didn't seem fazed. Eddie got threats like this all the time, it wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before.

"I don't really get along with my parents." Nancy piped up, trying to get the boys attention away from each other so there wasn't a brawl in the middle of the library.

"Yeah right, you're every parent's wet dream."

"That's the problem." She paused, you saw her eyes glaze over then looked at you. "I don't think my parents ever loved each other either."

Everyone was silent, looking at her like they were waiting for her to burst into tears. She regretted bring it up.

"They must have married for some reason?" Steve asked. Whether it was because he was being nosey, or he was concerned for her, you couldn't tell.

"My mom was younger. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."

"Screw that."

"Yeah, screw that."

"I could see you not liking them for making you wear those kind of clothes, but, shit, what else would you be doing if you weren't busy making yourself a better citizen?" Eddie clearly hadn't read the room.

"Why do you have to insult everybody?" Eddie was really pushing Steve's limits. You noticed it happened especially when it came to Nancy.

"I'm being honest, asshole. I'd expect you to know the difference." He said it like he had had a similar argument with Steve in the past.

Nancy raised her middle finger at him.

"Whoa, obscene gestures from such a pristine girl."

"I'm not that pristine." Nancy argued, though she regretted it almost immediately.

She cleared her throat and make her way back to her seat.

"Are you a virgin?" She caught Steve's eye, they shared a look, but Eddie missed it. "I'll bet you a million dollars that you are."

"Would you take that bet, Robin?"

"Not really."

"That's the last time I call you 'Robin', Buckley."

He continued. "Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?"

Nancy was getting upset. "Do you want me to puke?"

"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

You squeezed your thighs together. His voice was deep and masculine, sending you off into an alluring day dream. You found yourself in the back seat of a car, a strong man towering over you, rough hands caressing your soft skin. He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the night, nipples hardening. He's groping them, kissing them, loving on them. Your moaning and he's trailing his lips lower. Your hands thread themselves in his brown, wavy hair. He's pulling your panties down with his teeth, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. And suddenly you were in the back of his van, pulling off his patched, demin jacket until he's leaning over you completely naked. He put his lips to your ear, whispering --

"Hey, why don't you leave her alone!" Steve breaks you out of your imagination.

"You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

"You and whose army?"

"Just me and five of my fingers. I hit you. You hitting floor. Anytime you're ready."

Eddie realised that Steve was being serious, but doesn't believe he is quite capable of making good on his threat.

"Yeah? You want a black eye to go with that split lip? You couldn't fight Billy Hargrove, what makes you think you can beat me?"

Your chest tightened at his name and your eyes darted to the door. They stayed shut. It calmed you a little, but your heart was still beating against your ribcage. You placed a hand there in case it burst out. You wondered how Eddie knew about the fight at the party, you hadn't seen him there. But then again, word travels fast around Hawkins High. Your breathing became heavy. All this arguing was making you dizzy. You could do without a repeat of last Thursday.

"Try me."

"Eddie." You pleaded him not to retaliate, swallowing down your pride for a second of peace.

He looked at you, and suddenly Eddie was not in the mood to fight Steve. The fear in your eyes scared him a little. You were serious about them not fighting. But luckily for you, Eddie knew when to stop. Besides, there were ladies present, and he was a gentleman.

To some extent.

"Whatever man, I'm not getting into this with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" He paused. He wasn't going to tell Steve he did it for you. "'Cause I'd kill you. It's real simple, you'd die and your fucking parents would sue me and It'd be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother. So drop it."

"Chicken."

"You know, you should see a doctor. I think those steroids are frying your brain."

Steve just laughed him off, believing that he had scared Eddie into yielding and he was just giving one last dig to preserve his pride. Eddie looked a Nancy, but she was already staring at him.

"What is it that makes you act like such a fool?"

"I'm not getting enough vitamin B."

Steve fumed. He wanted his fist to connect with that smartass mouth of his. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to her...you don't look at her and you don't even think about her! You understand me?"

"I'm trying to help her." He said it like it was as plain as a pikestaff.

"Help me?" Nancy was insulted. "Why don't you work on yourself?"

"I did. I finished last Tuesday. Now I'm working on the rest of the world." He pointed at Steve, who looked about ready to swing. "I could help you, big boy."

"Spare me."

"I can help a lot of people, all they have to do is ask nicely."

"I'll kill you." Steve threatened with a clenched fist.

Eddie looked unmoved. He heard threats like that at least five times a day. "Well, I should just let you and everyone else who wants to kill me fight for the privilege."

There was a rumbling from beyond the library door. In a flurry of panic, everyone got themselves into position, acting like they hadn't moved an inch away from their seats. Eddie sat next to you again, accidently kicking your foot under the table. You kicked it back in annoyance. He did it again, only on purpose this time. 'What a child' you thought. You put your coat on the back of your chair and sat up straight, expecting Principal Higgins to come storming in.

Everybody visibly relaxed when Carl, the janitor, came rumbling in with his music playing quietly from his radio, dragging his cart behind him. He had a face you didn't quite know how to take; he looked friendly enough, but could turn at the snap of your fingers. He was skinny and stood at a height of 5"8, with a limp of a man who worked hard for his living. He smiled everyone, but the only one who seems the acknowledge him was Robin. She returned the smile and gave him a small wave, in hopes of being nice but not letting the others see. He went into the librarians office and grabbed the waste basket.

"Hey Sweetheart, your dad's here."

You gave him an unamused smile and kicked his shin under the desk once more.

Carl came out of the office and dumped the basket on his cart. He left his cart in the main library and walked down the pathway to grab another trash bin at the back of the room.

"Hey, Carl?"

Carl paused in surprise that any student here, with the exception of Robin, would talk to him. He turned around, but Eddie still remained facing the front, putting his back to him.

"How does one become a janitor."

Everyone supressed a giggle, even Steve despite his dislike for Eddie. Only Robin remained silent. She didn't find it very funny.

"You want to become a janitor?" Carl raised an eyebrow.

"No I just wanna know how one becomes a janitor because Steve here, is very interested in perusing a career in the custodial arts."

Steve stopped laughing at that. Carl scratched his head. He knew that they were making fun of him. But Carl wasn't one someone should mess with. He turned off his radio, pulled off his rubber gloves and shoved them in his back pocket.

"You guys think I'm just a lowly janitor. Some fucking untouchable peasant. Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for five years, I've learned a few things. I read your notes, I go through your letters. I listen to your conversations. I am the eyes and ears of this institution. I know where you are now and I know where you'll be in the future."

Everyone exchanged worried looks as Carl moved to tower in front of Eddie. "You got ten years, max. Drugs. Rundown trailer in West Texas. Whore wife takes the baby, you shoot a fatal dose. Probable? Maybe not. Possible? Think so."

He turned to you. "You get married to a guy with lots of material success. Corporate position. Big bucks. Black Jag. You have three kids, nobody gives a shit. You get divorced and have a big fuckin' heart attack at thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

Steve was next. "District sales manager for a golf club manufacturer. Shitty little compact company car, twenty-two five a year and a wife as big as a boxcar."

Finally, Nancy. "Six face-lifts and two boob jobs by forty and a husband with more girlfriends than anniversaries."

He stepped back and put on his gloves. The stunned reaction on everybody's faces made him smile. "But I'm just a janitor." He shrugged.

And with that, he grabbed his cart, wheeled it around and headed out. He paused at the door and looked at the clock.

"By the way, that thing's twenty minutes slow." He winked as he left and everybody groaned.

~~~~~

12:30pm

~~~~~

Everybody was bored out of their skulls after the shock of Carl's speech had worn off. You took the time to think about what he had said. He had tried to put a downer on you, but the life he had predicted for you sounded like paradise, compared to now. Even if you did only have twenty years left to live. As crazy as it sounded, it gave you a bit of hope. There was a chance that you could work up the courage to leave Billy and meet someone nice, or at least wealthy. You had never given any thought about having kids, especially not with Billy, but now, maybe you could see yourself with a kid. You'd want a boy, and he'd look just like his father; Curly brown hair, big russet eyes, and a toothy smile. What would you name him? Would you name him after his father? Maybe Michael, or Christopher, James. Edward? You liked that name.

Your eyes flashed to the door as it opened. Principal Higgins strolled in with a frown of his face, even though no one had done anything to upset him yet.

Yet.

"Thirty minutes for lunch." He declared.

"Excuse me Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place to eat lunch."

"I don't care what you think, Harrington."

Steve sunk back into his seat.

"Uh, Dick?" Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, Richard. Will milk be made available to us? Someone like Steve could choke to death on a dry sandwich."

"I have a low tolerance for dehydration, Sir." Robin added.

"I've seen her dehydrated, Sir." Steve sat up again. "It's pretty gross."

You wondered if that was true, or if he was just playing along. The things he said about her, you wondered if they knew each other. Probably not, you brushed off the thought. They were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, there was no way they knew each other.

Principal Higgins scowled.

Eddie stood and raised his hands like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Relax, I'll get it."

"Ah,ah,ah. Grab some wood there, Munson. You think I was born yesterday? You don't fool me for one minute. I'm not having you roaming these halls."

Eddie plopped back into his seat with a defeated sigh. It was worth a shot.

"You." He pointed at Steve.

He eyed up the other students, skipping over Eddie as he decided who else was most suitable to leave. You sank into your seat. You did not fancy having some alone time with Steve. Steve stared directly at the Principal before darting his eyes to the right where Nancy was sat, signalling for him to pick her. She sat up to make herself more evident.

Higgins ignored them and pointed a finger at you. "And you. There's a soft drinks machine in the faculty lunch room."

You broke into a cold sweat. This was going to be the most awkward ten minutes of your life. Either Steve was just going to pretend you didn't exist, or he was going to absolutely grill you. You hoped for the former.

As you reluctantly got out of your seat, Steve held out a hand to the others for money. Nancy took out a change purse from her bag and handed him fifty cents. Robin does the same with the loose change in her jeans pocket. Eddie fished through his coat pockets. He found some assorted change, crumpled gum wrappers, some loose tobacco and a screw. He handed it all to Steve.

Steve made his way out, not even looking to see if you're following him. You do, of course, but you lagged behind him, not feeling particularly comfortable being alone with him. You counted your steps as you walked, fiddling with the delicate chain around your neck. It was a simple design: just your name written with gold, cursive lettering. But it was the only jewellery you never took off. Your parents had bought it for you when you had started cheerleading at eight years old. It was a reminder of when life was much more simple, when you believed that your parents actually loved each other, that they loved you.

A minute passed and you already couldn't stand the silence. You dreaded it, but you knew this would probably be the only opportunity you would get to hash out your grievances.

"Why do you hate me?" A forward start, but at least it's a start.

"You know why."

"Look, what Billy did wasn't my fault --"

"Of course it is. If you hadn't been there in the first place he wouldn't've showed up."

"Hey, I didn't even tell him I was going to that stupid party. He was there anyway. If you hadn't come over and butted into our argument, maybe you wouldn't have that split lip."

"My parties aren't stupid."

"Is that seriously all you took from that?"

"No..." He paused. After hearing your side of the story, he was beginning to feel like a fool. "What were you guys even arguing about?"

You sighed. "Billy and I had plans to go to this drive in movie theatre. I don't think he wanted to watch a movie though, I think he was just hoping to get lucky." The two of you had stopped walking. Steve looked at you intently, encouraging you to carry on. You shifted on your feet. "If I'm being completely honest I didn't really want to go, but then Carol asked me to go to your party and I took it as an excuse not to go with Billy. I knew he would be angry if I cancelled our plans last minute, so I told him I was sick. Biggest fucking mistake of my life."

"So you went to the party and Billy caught you out in your lie."

"Yeah. Turns out one of his friends had asked him to go but he'd declined 'cause we were going on a date. He accepted the offer once I'd cancelled our plans."

Steve started walking again. You followed next to him this time. "I know Billy is a bit of a shitbag, but why didn't you want to go on your date? I mean, it seemed like a good time."

There was no such thing as a 'good time' with Billy. He had his moments, sure, but he was as cranky as a wet hen. Time with him was like trying to swim with rocks on your back. He sucked all the fun out of everything until you started drowning. You didn't tell Steve that though.

"I just wasn't in the mood to be around him, is all." You brushed him off. "But he's bringing it up all the time, and were arguing all of the time. Even in school."

"Is that why you're here today?"

His question made you pause. He stopped a couple of steps ahead of you and turned around when he saw you weren't next to him anymore. You played it off like you were itching your leg and jogged up to him. The two of you made it to the teacher's lounge.

The first thing you noticed was that it was very brown. The floor and ceiling had the same white speckled tile that ran throughout the entire school, but everything else was just ... brown. Brown wallpaper, brown leather sofas, brown table, brown countertop. Even the fridge was brown. The vending machine was in the far corner.

"Why are you here?" You asked Steve, hoping he hadn't realised that you hadn't answered his question.

"Me? I'm here because my father and my coach don't want me to blow my ride." He started feeding the change into the machine. "They think my intensity's for shit. You see, I have a different set of standards. I get treated different because Coach thinks I'm a star. So does my old man. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not a star because I want to be a star, I'm a star because I got good legs and reflexes. I'm like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

You nodded, but you had a suspicion that that wasn't the whole truth. "Yeah, so why are you really here?"

Steve was annoyed that he hadn't managed to persuade you. "Forget it."

You studied the set of lockers on the other side of the room. You walked over to them out of curiosity, trying your luck with one of the doors. To your surprise it opened.

Steve caught you out of the corner of his eye. "You really shouldn't be doing that."

Inside lay a set of keys attached to a green Hawkins High lanyard, a pack of cigarettes, a 'thank you teacher' mug, and a Prince's Purple Rain album on vinyl. Steve came up behind you, looking inside and letting the soda cans thunk loudly at the bottom of the vending machine.

"This is a teacher's stuff?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah. Does this mean that they're actually human?" You laughed together for the first time.

Daringly, you pocketed the pack of cigarettes in your cardigan pocket and took the record.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, put them back."

"C'mon Steve, when are you ever going into the teacher's lounge again? Besides, it'll give us something to do while were stuck in that god damned library."

You shut the locker door and brushed past him. You gathered up the soda cans, giving Steve his share to carry and made your way back to the library.

"It was pretty strange looking at teacher's personal shit, huh?" You said, examining the purple record sleeve.

Steve shrugged, he'd seen stranger things. "I went over to Coach's house for dinner once during the summer. It was really weird to see how he lives."

He paused, anticipating a question, but you just looked at him to carry on.

"His wife was fat. And one of his kids was in a wheelchair. It was kinda sad. He was a nice kid."

"If he invites you over to his house, why does he shit on you?"

"He and my old man are working to get me a scholarship. It's not an economic issue. Scholarships make the newspaper. They think I have a shot at a full ride. They think I deserve a Big Ten school."

You simply nodded and walked through the library doors. The others were gathered in the corner by the comfy chairs. Eddie was holding a book opened to a page displaying a man with elephantitus to the nuts like he was reading children a bedtime story.

"How do you suppose he rides a bike?"

The clattering of soda cans on the table drew their attention away. They all walked over to grab a can. Before the others could take one, Eddie reached out and shook one furiously.

You look at him like he was crazy. Perhaps he was. "That's going to spray all over you."

"Not necessarily."

He put the drink back with the others and moved the cans around so than no one would know which was was shook up.

"You're such a dingus." Robin bravely took a can first.

Everyone else followed before taking their seats and pulling out their lunches. You simply took out an apple, loosing your appetite after seeing a man with elephantitus to the nuts. You noticed Eddie didn't have any lunch as he surveyed everyone else's.

"Where's your lunch?"

"You're wearing it." He winked.

You curled your lip in disgust, but felt about as red as your apple.

"You're nauseating." Nancy complained, opening her lunch.

"Look who's talking. You don't care what you put in your mouth." He eyed Nancy's lunch like she had just shown him a plate full of snails. "What is that?"

"Sushi."

"Sushi?"

"Rice, raw fish, and seaweed."

"You wont accept a guys tongue in your mouth, but you'll eat that?"

She scoffed impatiently. "Can I eat?"

"I don't know, give it a try."

The room went silent as everybody watched Steve pull out his lunch from a large brown grocery bag; three sandwiches, a family-sized bag of chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies and a carton of milk.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Robin asked in shock.

"No, I'm only going to eat half."

"What are you going to do with the other half?"

"Shoving it up Eddie's ass."

How charming. He reached for his can and everybody shrunk away, thinking it might explode. He cracked the tab.

Nothing happened.

Robin took out a sandwich covered in saran wrap. She unwrapped it and pulled the bread apart, starting to work on it like a mad scientist. She tossed the meat away, blindly whipping it to the side. It slapped on the wall and stuck there. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a bag of chocolate M&M's. She tore the bag open and dumped all of it on the buttered bread. Out of her coat pocket she pulled out a little baggie filled with Captain crunch cereal and sprinkled it over the M&M's. She closed the mess of a sandwich and took a huge bite. She noticed that everyone was watching her.

"You are bizarre." Eddie thought Steve's lunch was bad.

She reached for her Pepsi to wash it all down. She put it to her mouth and popped it. The soda sprayed cleanly into her mouth.

After the fizz was gone, she smirked at Eddie. "Nice try, dingus."

"What do you have?" He turned to you, watching take a bite into your apple.

You handed your bag over to him, rather than speaking with a full mouth. He started pulling things out. He pulled out a sandwich, a thermos of soup, which he opened and give a big whiff, and a bottle of water.

"Well Sweetheart, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rodgers?"

Eddie stood so he was front and centre of the room, all eyes on him.

"This is my impression of life at our darling Sweetheart's house." He gestured to you and your face flushed.

"Hello, dear. I'm home from the coalmine." Eddie impersonated your father.

Eddie quickly played your mother. "Oh, hello, sweetie pie. Dinner's almost ready. I'm serving stuffing instead of potatoes."

"My favourite!"

His voice turned high and shrill, playing you. "Hi, Dad! Yippee, you're home! I danced in a skimpy skirt in front of hundreds of people today. I went to church and I wrote Grandma a letter. Now can I have a pen pal?"

"Dear, isn't our daughter swell?"

Quiet and motherly. "Yes Dear, isn't life swell?"

Eddie mimed your mother kissing your father, then father kissing mother, and then your father punching your mother in the face. Suddenly it was not so funny anymore.

Your eyes were wet. You hated how much that hurt. It wasn't his words that hurt you, it was how much you wished it were true.

You bravely stood up. "No, it's more like --"

"Dad? Is it okay if I shoot heroin?"

You lowered your voice, playing your father. You held an imaginary newspaper in your hands, not taking your eyes off it and pretending that you weren't paying attention. "If it'll make you happy, pumpkin."

You extended your fingers and blew on them, doing your mother and her fresh nail polish. "What are you talking about, Frank?! How's she going to wear her Sunday dress with holes in her arms? We are going to church aren't we?

"It's okay. Never mind. I won't be a junkie." You said sadly.

"Now, just wait a minute. If you want to be a junkie--"

"I'm not going to be the only woman at the congregation with a junkie daughter. Now what about church?" Your mother said.

"Go by yourself!" Said your father.

"With pleasure! I'm taking Y/N."

"Over my dead body!"

"I love her more than you do!"

"Go to hell!"

Everyone looks at you with a hint of sympathy. Even Eddie.

"Do you wish they'd get a divorce?" He asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'd have to live with one or the other. And I don't know which one is worse." You laughed, but there was no humour behind it.

"Whose next?" Eddie ask, like he didn't already know he was going to single out Steve. Eddie pointed at him. "You're next."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"You an orphan?"

"I don't need to dump on my parents. Especially when they're not here to defend themselves." Eddie gave him a look like he was being chicken.

"What about your family?" Steve asked Eddie. He wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine.

"Mine? Real simple, pal."

He climbed onto the table, really setting the stage and getting himself into character. His eyelids lowered and his body moved clumsily, like he was drunk. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn freeloading, son of a bitch, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk!"

He stands up straight, crossing his arms and raising the pitch of his voice. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful." His mother said.

"Shut up bitch!" He smacked the air, hitting his invisible mother. He yelled it so loud you were worried Higgins was about to storm through the door.

As his father, he threw a punch. Eddie dramatically dropped from the table and fell to the ground. He stood up, brushed himself off and took a bow. The show was over.

"Then they make me work to pay off the dentist for the teeth he busts."

"Is that for real?" Nancy looks like she's going to start crying for him.

"You wanna come over some time?"

She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to anyone. Even someone as vexing as Eddie. Nancy decided then to never complain about her parents again.

"That's part of your image. I don't believe a word." Steve brushed him off. His re-enactment hadn't moved him at all.

You wondered if he was right. You had been so truthful about yours, you would feel ashamed if he had lied about his.

Eddie actually looked hurt. "You don't believe it, huh?"

He whipped off his red shirt and pulled up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. He shoved his arm in Steve's face, displaying a grotesque purple scar. Steve recoiled away from it, but Eddie forced him to look at it. You subtly tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan. You could feel the bruises of Billy's fingers purpling on your wrist.

"You believe that? It's about the size of a cigar." Eddie spoke through gritted teeth. "That's what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."

Eddie was breathless with anger. His muscles were tensed up so tightly he thought he was going to give himself a full-body cramp. He needed something to calm himself down. Luckily, he knew just the thing.

~~~~~

<<<Previous // Next>>>

~~~~~

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #mini series #cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #the breakfast club #the breakfast club mini series #the breakfast club fanfic #stranger things x the breakfast club #enemies to lovers

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captainkirkk · 5 months ago

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

#i'm down with covid atm #which is why there are multiple longish fics on here considering i only just posted last week #thank you ao3 for your service #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #the goblin emperor recs #tge recs #sw recs #dc recs #marvel recs

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years ago

Note

Tim and Jason headcanons 👀

One morning during breakfast Tim keeps excusing himself to go to the bathroom to fix his boxers because they must've stretched in the wash. Meanwhile, Jason can barely move and waddles into the kitchen like he has a rubber band around his legs. Imagine the horror when they connect the dots and realize their underwear got swapped

One day Tim's room suddenly starts to smell like tomatoes and he tears it apart trying to find the source. Turns out Jason put soup in the humidifier

Jason: *gives Tim an iced coffee*

Tim: "You put salt in it"

Jason: "No I didn't"

Tim: "I can literally see the crystals"

Jason: "What crystals?"

Tim: "Right there, all settled at the bottom"

Jason: "That's how the coffee is"

Tim still owes Jason for the time Jason stopped him from faceplanting in Alfred the cat's litter box

Contrary to how it appears, Jason's hair is thicker. It's so thick that Tim accidentally drops a glob of mayonnaise in it and Jason doesn't notice until he combs his hair hours later

They get bunk beds on a mission. Tim gets the top bunk after losing rock-paper-scissors. While he's asleep, Jason moves the ladder to the other side

Jason puts a cockroach on Tim's desk thinking he'll freak out. Tim, who's on his third day without sleep, looks Jason dead in the eye and eats it

As a kid, Jason often re-wore dirty clothes until he absolutely had to go to the laundromat meanwhile Tim washed his more frequently in small batches so he wouldn't get told off for having a huge pile. Cut to the present day where Tim's sifting through a mountain of Jason's laundry for a pair of socks and Jason is offering zero help whatsoever

They stand out in the rain to see who gets drenched first. It's usually Tim—he absorbs water like a paper towel. Jason then gets in trouble because Tim could've gotten sick ("Thanks, Bruce, not like I'm soaked to the bone too")

And when Tim gets sick, he refuses to take his meds unless someone sneaks it into his food. Finally, Jason has a use for the NyQuil Chicken TikTok

Jason drives three hours from an out-of-state safehouse to hide in Tim's closet and scare him. Little does he know, Tim is in the closet at the safehouse, waiting to pounce on Jason

Jason peels a pride sticker off a villain's car and gives it to Tim

Jason mixes all the Goldfish crackers into a dough and bakes them into a single giant Goldfish. Why? 'Cause he can, and Tim needs something to test his new food pic filters on

In March their patrols end by meeting at McDonald's for Shamrock Shakes

Tim prank calls Jason and convinces him he's lost in Metropolis. Eight hours, countless Bizarro flights, and two unfortunate geese encounters later, Jason storms into the Batcave while Tim simply grins and asks, "What'd you think of my new VPN?"

Tim and Jason find a wheelbarrow at a crime scene and keep it after the case is closed because it's a free wheelbarrow. This happens twice more and now they have enough for a family wheelbarrow race

Bruce makes them spend more time together, so Jason decides to teach Tim the Three-Card Monty. Tim just nods along because he doesn't know how say that he already learned it by watching the second Robin out-con a conman

Jason wakes Tim up one morning by chucking a feather duster at him, saying Alfred wants everything clean. So Tim gathers all the dust in his room and dumps it on Jason's bed before going back to sleep

The Ferris wheel has a clear "no food" policy but Tim doesn't listen and sneaks a chili dog anyway. Jason's in the seat below him, and it's the second time something falls in his hair without him noticing

Jason: "Red Robin, do you read me?"

Tim: "Affirmative. What do you need?"

Jason: "Pick a different gargoyle. That one's mine"

Tim: "I don't see your name on it"

Jason: "Check the underside"

Tim: "It just says Robin, so technically it's both of ours"

At one of Jason's safehouses there's a mysterious bucket in the corner of the living room. No one but Tim knows what it's for

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aetherdoesthings · 8 months ago

Note

Can we get a bi sanji x bi reader gushing over all the cute girls they see together (I'm in the fem lean of my bi cycle rn lol)?

elo! lmao same.

forethoughts: sorry for my inactivity; dealing w a lot of personal problems atm. i'm okay, dw :>

notes: bi!reader, bi!sanji, both being absolutely fucking simps.

When you first joined the Straw Hats, you immediately hit it off with Sanji. Not because you liked making food and were an excellent cook, but because of something more… obscure.

Every morning when everyone gathered in the galley to eat breakfast, Sanji would be gushing over Nami and Robin, giving them extra food and all the extra love and care. To everyone’s dismay, you did too, offering some of your food to them and giving them compliments about their look.

Nami and Robin always received your compliment differently than Sanji would. While Sanji would be loud and outburst, always going the extra mile for the two of them, you were more quiet. It was obvious at some times you were head over heels for both Nami and Robin, always choosing to stick close to one of them during missions or just occasionally looking at one of the two for a longer period of time.

Nami and Robin welcomed your silence, admiring much more than they did Sanji’s, and always admired how you would instantly blush and run away whenever they complimented you back.

At night, you and Sanji would be screaming, crying, throwing up about all your encounters with Robin or Nami and how they were Goddesses in your eyes. You’d spend hours with him coming up with ways to make them happy.

“WHAT FRAGRANCES DO GIRLS LIKE?!” Sanji shouted.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” You shouted back.

“YOU’RE A GIRL, Y/N!”

“DON’T MEAN I KNOW WHAT FRAGRANCES THEY LIKE!”

Eventful meetings you had Sanji had gushing over Nami and Robin.

When you went out to shop for more food, if you ever stumbled across some cute girls, you’d put your hand over your face to hide how red your cheeks were and look away respectfully, blocking any perverted or intrusive thoughts. Sanji would go over to talk to them, bombarding them with questions and giving them compliment after compliment.

#one piece #op #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #cat burglar nami #nami #nico robin #simps #aetherasks

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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

One-Hour Photo

90's Eddie x fem!reader

A little blurb about taking photos with a disposable camera in the 90's. There were always a few shots you took to use up the film so you could get it developed as soon as possible. I've been pushing myself to write even when I don't feel like it, and then stuff like this happens.

wc: 576

blurbs

There were seven more photos left on the disposable camera before you could run it to the one-hour photo booth to get developed. The bulk of the 36 count of film was of a karaoke night at The Hideout. It was Joyce’s birthday, and Jim sang Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash. Robin convinced Steve to sing Wannabe by the Spice Girls with her, and you had all of these great shots of them laughing so hard they could barely continue.

God, Eddie was so beautiful that night. Even though you were plenty intoxicated, you remembered it all as clear as day. The way the leather of his jacket smelled mixed with the soapy musk of his skin. The way he would always have his hand on your leg, and then you’d catch him staring at you just before he licked his lips and leaned in, “kiss me.”

click, click

He wasn’t a huge fan of Journey, but he sang Separate Ways because he knew you loved it, and then there were several “selfie” shots of you holding your cocktails up and attempting a clumsy, blurry tongue kiss for the camera. One photo was almost too dark to see a very tipsy Steve, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy all squeezing in to be in the frame. Jonathan was the only sober one and you took a shot of him giving the peace sign and sipping his soda in the corner.

The next morning, you spent a few of those final seven shots on you and Eddie, half naked in bed. You held the disposable camera up at arm's length so that it could capture your cheek on his shoulder, and his hair splayed out over the pillow while he planted his lips on your forehead.

click, click

Another was of Eddie in the kitchen of your old apartment with his hair in a bun and an apron on while he cracked the eggs to make an omelet. He did not look up when you told him how good it smelled, but if the pictures had sound, you’d hear him say, “only the best for my girl.”

The final capture was a rushed one of a houseplant by the window. You were eager to finish the roll so that you could wind it and run it over to get developed before breakfast was ready.

Twenty years later, while cleaning out boxes of storage you forgot even existed, you came across the white shoebox with the hearts drawn all over it in red marker. At first, it didn’t ring a bell, and then it made you clutch your heart and lose your balance.

You sat down, right where you were, on the ground, to sift through the photos and the concert tickets and the love notes scribbled on scraps of paper, once folded into pockets and taped to bathroom mirrors.

You had almost forgotten about that night at The Hideout. A smile cut into your cheek at the same time as your eyes watered and something like pain tickled in your throat.

With trembling hands, you held up the ones you’d taken in bed together that morning in '96, those final seven, the few that were meant to be “throw away” photos in a much more important collection. It felt like they’d been taken only yesterday, and several lifetimes ago, all at once.

#Eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #90's eddie #90's au

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months ago

Text

King&Prince 7

When Eddie returned to the castle, it was in the form of a raven. He perched himself on the outside of Steve's window. The prince was deep asleep and of course, looked completely harmless. Eddie knew not to be fooled by that though. Dustin looked downright cherubic when he slept but could still be an absolute menace. This was a prince, meaning he'd been taught in the ways of strategizing your next move and making every moment count.

It was very likely that he was just regaining energy for an escape attempt later on. Nancy's worries didn't fall on deaf ears. At the time, the reason Eddie didn't put a constant eye on him was because Dustin seemed attached to him already. Now that he was out of the cell, Dustin would probably seek him out at all hours. Which meant the prince wouldn't be able to get far before the young boy mentioned to someone that he couldn't find him.

He was dangerous. Eddie had to remind himself of that even as the prince was surrounded by softness and his face was smoothed of all tension.

The next morning, Steve was awakened by someone banging on the door. "Up and at 'em! Time for work!", Robin shouted through the door.

Steve got up, almost reaching for the doors of the wardrobe before remembering there wouldn't be anything there for him. All he had were the clothes on his back. Even the ones he'd come in with, dirty and wrecked, had been taken. Probably tossed, useless as they were.

He took a quick look at himself in the bathroom mirror. It wasn't too bad. His hair was lacking in its usual style, falling over his forehead, and there was still a bit of darkness under his eyes, but at least he didn't have that layer of filth anymore.

Steve let out a sigh when Robin pounded on the door again. He understood people's problem with him, that didn't mean he liked it.

"What, no breakfast?", Steve asked when she all but dragged him down the hall. They passed a few people who had sneers and glares to spare. At least back home people knew how to hide their disdain for him.

She put him to work in the music room again, arranging chairs with a prepared diagram. He heard someone call her name and she was out of the room, leaving him by himself. Steve wondered if they were just underestimating him or if they were that confident in their security. Steve continued to work for a few minutes before deciding to try and venture outside.

The moment he stuck a foot out the door though, a gaggle of kids were out in the hallway, waiting for him.

"See! I told you!", Dustin exclaimed.

Mike's jaw was on the floor. "They've got you doing chores?!"

"That's gotta be all he's good for", a red-headed girl he didn't recognize said.

The rest of them included Will, Lucas, and another girl he'd never seen before and they started arguing among themselves about Steve and his uses right there.

"Hey, hey!" Steve clapped his hands. "Has no one ever taught you brats any manners?"

"Do you really think so little of us?", Dustin asked.

"Forget it. I've got work to do." Anything to not be surrounded by a random group of children. But just as Steve went in to finish putting up the chairs and arranging the instruments, he was followed right away by the kids, discussing very loudly what was to become of this whole music lesson thing.

"What gives Eddie the right to tell us what to learn?", Lucas asked.

"He's literally in charge of everything else", the red haired girl, Max, said.

"And you guys had no complaints about him making sure you get educated in other things", Mike said.

"Because every young child should have a healthy dose of math, science and the arts", Dustin said.

"Guess what music counts as", Will grinned.

There was that Eddie guy again. Apparently in charge of what these kids learned. Maybe he was some sort of headmaster? Or some kind of higher up here. But Steve had never heard a title attached to their name. Not a lord, or duke, or even a mr. So just who was he to these kids. Steve's interest was almost piqued to ask but he had other things to worry about. Like filling his stomach.

His stomach growling was somehow heard over the cacophony of voices and it was heard by El. Steve had only known her for about fifteen minutes and yet she unnerved him. She laughed and smiled like any child and yet there was something lurking underneath the surface with her.

"He's hungry", she commented.

"Time for lunch then", Dustin decided.

Steve was somehow corralled by them all and he found himself taken to the castle kitchens. He was taken aback by the sights and smells. It was just like the kitchen back home, when he used to sneak down as a kid. The only difference was that instead of a numerous staff, there were much fewer people.

That and some of the pots were stirring themselves. Steve went up to one in awe.

"Magic?"

"Cooking magic", Will explained.

"Sit down, children", a voice said from deeper into the kitchen and Steve was pulled to a small table in the corner with chairs for all of them. The moment they did, a tray of warm bread floated to land in the middle and bowls of soup came flying towards them, landing without spilling a drop.

"Thanks mom!", Dustin called out.

Steve's mouth watered. He'd been eating scraps for days and none of it had been warm. He took his first bite and nearly cried. It was so good. some of the best he'd ever had. The kids were still talking, but Steve hardly paid whatever topic they were discussing any mind. He was too focused on the food. That and the fact that they didn't seem at all bothered by him.

The king's minions had attacked him and thrown him into a dungeon without any thought. The king himself hadn't shown his face until he was sure that Steve had no value as a bargaining chip. That Robin woman saw him as a pack mule and used him as such. The few adults in the kitchen would openly glare at him and Steve wondered if he should worry about poison in his food.

But Dustin and his friends...it was like they didn't care.

Robin appeared just as they finished eating to drag Steve to the library and have him move books around. Steve thought that at least he'd be free of the kids, but of course they weren't too far behind. The idea of library manners were lost to them as well, as they kept their normal volume around what must be thousands of books.

The next couple of days went very much the same, Steve being led around by Robin to reorganize the library. Sometimes it was blessedly quiet, the rest of the time, Dustin was there, asking questions about him or his kingdom which usually prompted some kind of argument amongst his friends.

Somehow, despite himself, Steve started to like them. They even got a laugh out of him once or twice. Dustin was bright, if a bit self righteous. Max was always instigating and it was clear she had fun doing it. Will had a sweet face but wasn't afraid to speak his mind. From what he gathered, they all lived here in the castle, and some of their parents were in the staff.

It was such a routine, that Steve was confused when Robin didn't come to get him one morning. He thought he should wait, but when it got close to noon, well he had to leave in search of food. He was still barefoot, but thankfully that wasn't much of a problem. What was a problem was how he was turned around and didn't know where he was going.

He heard some voices from around the corner and thought of asking for directions before remembering his place. If anyone other than the kids saw him walking around unescorted, they'd probably think he was up to something. Steve ran in the opposite direction, avoiding places he heard people talking and ended up in what looked like a sparring arena. The roof opened up to let the sun in and there was a wall of weapons. The area for sparring itself was a simple arena in the dirt and there was Lucas in the middle of it, struggling to lift a sword that was about as tall as he was.

"Uh, I can explain", Lucas said.

"No need", Steve said, mostly because he didn't want to have to explain what he was doing. "You're obviously in the middle of training." He looked to how big the sword was and how there was no teacher in sight. "A little advice, choose a weapon you can pick up."

Lucas frowned. "Why don't you show me, since you're so badass? Dustin told me you know all these techniques but so far I've just seen you carry stuff."

Steve raised a brow as he walked over and took the sword from Lucas. "Carrying stuffy counts as heavy lifting." He took a step away to get a safe distance and swung the sword with ease. "For now, you might be better with that", he used the sword to point to a rapier on the wall.

"That twig?"

"Think it's too much for you to handle?"

Lucas snorted and took it off the wall. He swung it around, not too confident in it. "Looks like it'll break if I went up against that", he gestured to the broadsword Steve had.

"It's not meant to go head to head like that", Steve said, sure that Lucas was imagining his sword slicing down right on top of Lucas' blade. "Real sword fighting is about using your skill to create an opening to land the right blow."

"Isn't most fighting like that?"

"Just shut up and show me your stance."

------------------------

Nancy was running through her to do list in her head. Spring would be coming soon and while the human inhabitants would be celebrating and holding festivals, the demo-creature population would be preparing for hibernation and there were things that needed to be arranged.

Her thoughts were interrupted by sounds coming from the sparring room. Neither she nor Jeff and called upon anyone but the room could be used by anyone trying to brush up their skills. Curious as to who was putting in extra work, she was surprised to see Lucas clashing swords with the prince. She didn't see anything else but red. She didn't see the smile on Lucas' face or how slowly Steve seemed to move.

She pulled out a dagger first, throwing it right in front of the prince's nose to get him to back off before unsheathing her own sword and getting between him and Lucas.

"Whoa! That was too close! You could've hurt him!", Steve said.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!", Nancy shouted back.

Lucas put a hand to her shoulder from behind. "Calm down, he was just-"

"Stay behind me. I knew something like this would happen." She advanced, raising her sword against Steve.

He was surprised at her ferocity when she was so small. That was when he remembered. "You were part of the ambush!"

"I should have killed you then", Nancy declared while actively trying to kill him. "Eddie was wrong, you're-"

Steve cried out when he tripped on a stray rock, cutting his foot in the process. It caused him to fall forward, which Nancy wasn't prepared for. A rush of black smoke was their saving grace, pushing Steve away and cushioning Nancy before turning into a man that held her close. Not just any man, of course. The king.

And just like most of the court, all he had for Steve was a hardened glower. Lucas had been stupefied into silence but spoke up when he saw the blood.

"Listen, it's not what it looks like! Steve was helping me train."

"And why would he do that?", Nancy demanded to know as she righted herself. "You know we're not taking on anyone new until training officially starts. You shouldn't even be in here."

"Yeah, well he was", Steve said, ignoring the pain in his foot for now as he sat up. "And he needed some pointers."

The king's eyes narrowed. "So you took it upon yourself to train him?" Then he looked to Lucas. "And that's the story you're going with?"

"It's not a story, it's the truth. We were just practicing", Lucas said.

The king stared down at the prince, thoughts running through his head. He approached and Steve held up his sword. His foot might be hurt, but he could still fight if this beast wanted a challenge. To his surprise though, the king paused, and held his hands up like he was trying to show he meant no harm.

He glanced down at Steve's foot. "Let's take care of that first. Everything else can wait."

"I don't need your help", Steve said, rising to his feet. He took a step and while he held back a hiss, he was able to move just fine. He knew he was dripping blood but his pride kept him from looking down. He let the sword drop to the floor. He'd find his way back to his room and tear a bandage from his sheet or something.

He let out a yelp when suddenly he was lifted up into the king's arms and when he blinked their faces were just a breath apart.

"I can appreciate being too proud to accept help, but I won't have you trailing blood around the castle."

Steve had no choice but to cling to him. Walking or being carried, his blood would still drain from his foot, so he could see how it mattered. The king carried him anyway sat Steve on his bed where a bandage cloth was already waiting, as well as a basin of water. He was set down on the bed and Steve expected to be left alone to dress the wound but the king surprised him yet again by kneeling and starting to wash his foot.

"You're...You're the king, aren't you?", Steve asked.

"That I am."

Steve didn't think he needed to elaborate. Kings didn't kneel. For anyone. And they especially didn't help enemy royalty with cuts and bruises. They didn't carry them to their rooms. It made no sense at all for King Edward to treat him like this, especially after what he had to endure in his cell.

"Why were you helping Lucas?", he asked.

Steve shrugged. "Kid needed help. He was trying to lift a sword as big as he was."

"Hmm. Well, considering the current state of affairs, it's been irresponsible of me to leave you unattended for so long. So you'll be getting a new guard detail, starting tomorrow."

That sounded more sensical than anything else that had happened so far, so Steve didn't even question it. Someone came by to drop of dinner, but besides that, Steve didn't see anyone until the next day when the king himself appeared at his door with a pair of well worn boots.

"Of course. You're my guard."

"No one better", the king grinned.

Part 9

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue

#we are nearing the end of the 1st arc #apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #the party #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair

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mikoyamisheadcanonblog · 3 months ago

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Koby Relationship Questions (1)

👓Who wakes up first in the Morning: 👓Koby does, after training under Garp he got in got in the habit of waking up early to train and if he isn’t training. He will start his morning making breaks for his S/O and such but also helping them clean. Years on Alvida’s Pirate crew he became amazing at cleaning and kind of loved a spotless house. At first it was a surprise while he was bashful at first when his S/O is surprised and sharing breakfast he begins to like the smile of his S/O and does it every day.

👓Who is the first to fall asleep at night:👓 After a long day, Koby, he likes to sleep early and get the full eight hours of sleep required of him. He does have a hard time sleeping if his S/O isn’t around and will stay awake till they come home. Or if he is stressed about something he will spend his time training.

👓What they playfully tease each other over: 👓His S/O can brag about him, and it will turn his cheeks red and such and have him looking away feeling such embarrassment as he denies everything. He is never sure how to react when his S/O gives him such praises. Public display of affection would leave him embarrassed and such. He would try to tease his S/O but in the end, it would come out as praised and such and question himself if his S/O is feeling bad.

👓What they do when the other’s having a bad day:👓 He will do everything in his power to make sure his S/O bad day is turning into a good day. But most of all he already knows a listening ear is the best. If his S/O doesn’t want to talk he will take them where they want till they are ready and such but if they can’t think of anything he probably makes a good meal for them and waits. He just needs that listening ear, talking to his S/O about his emotions.

👓How they say ‘I’m sorry after arguments:👓 He would apologize right away; however, his S/O is feeling he would feel so bad every time his S/O feels bad. He can’t sit with the guilt of ever hurting his S/O and such. It would take a minute, then minutes at most will he go to his S/O and apologize probably by a bouquet flowers or some of their favorite sweets. Before they sit and have a conversation over what happened and how to improve. He will accept his S/O apologize but he does want to talk about what happened.

👓Which one’s more ticklish: 👓He does have a ticklish side and such, probably his S/O but he is ticklish.

👓Their favorite rainy day activities:👓 He would enjoy anything his S/O doing, he would train in the rain and not wanting to give up on training even on rainy days. There his S/O would greet him with a hot shower and warm meal that they would share and talk about the weather or training or even the conflict in the world and later snuggle and watch the rain. His cheeks would be red with how close he is to his S/O and thinking about how much he likes being with his S/O.

👓How they surprise each other: 👓Traveling, he likes to travel with his S/O and seeing new places. He will talk about Luffy and such and show them articles about Luffy and talk about how Luffy inspired him. But he loves walking with his S/O and showing them places and surprise travel trips on the day off is all good for him.

👓Their most sickening show of public affection:👓 He blushes at the simple idea of hand-holding. His cheeks are red as his S/O goes and grabs his hand. He can’t pull away but will feel such blissful embarrassment as he looks at his S/O having difficulty believing he is in a relationship with him.

Other Relationship Question 1 Zoro, Ace, Nami, Law, Sanji, Kid, Sabo, Killer, Shanks, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Luffy, Robin, Usopp, Koby, King, Smoker,

#koby x reader #koby x you #koby one piece #koby x y/n #koby the hero #koby headcaons #koby imagines

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xoxo-sarah · 1 year ago

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Brother's Best Friend

Part 2

↝a/n: idk how to feel about this one. Feedback is appreciated! :)

↝pairing: robin buckley x Harrington!reader

↝Warning: arguing, a school fight, homophobic douchebag who says gross stuff, party, alcohol, pinning, kissing, not proofread

↝⎙ 6.15.23

She hated you. She hated how you dressed, how you acted, how you talked, how you smiled, how you laughed, how you walked, how you fixed your hair. How you applied lip gloss on your plump, kissable lips. Most importantly, she hated how you were Steve's sister. You and Steve were complete opposites, always having something small to argue about no matter who's around. But having each other's backs when needed.

She could recall a day where you wore a pink skirt along with a scowl on your face as a girl from school had been talking crap about your brother. The other girl hadn't been popular, but a shit talking bitch nonetheless, just listening to everything and gossiping when given the chance.

Robin had been at her locker when she heard everything, the caos and people talking about a fight as they ran down the hall. She followed the two younger highschoolers, coming around a corner to see you, ears a fire-y red and knuckles a ghost white as your nails dug into your palms. The other girl kept blabbering about the next bimbo to be in your brothers bed, which set you off. A small, humorless laugh had the cocky grin fall smooth off her face. Robin wasn't close enough to hear what you said before the girl had swung, hitting you but hurting herself more with how she had her fist, most likely jamming her thumb. A gasp echoed in Robin's head, watching as you only swung once, enough to say it was self defense- when in reality it just felt good to shut the girl up for a little bit.

She had just watched as the principal walked both of you down the hall, scolding you.

She hated how you made her promise not to tell Steve that you got suspended. "You can't tell Steve."

"And why not? You punched her!"

"For good reason!" You had countered, pleading her with your eyes. "Please, Robin." That might have been the first time you have been nice to her. There was always some snippy comments being spat at her when she was around, making Steve take up for his friend. "I'll do anything; He can't know."

So she kept your secret. You kept getting ready for school in the mornings, leaving with a small something for breakfast, and bidding Steve goodbye. She didn't know where you went after you left, or where you could spend 7 hours where Steve wouldn't catch you. But her mouth stayed shut. She honestly surprised herself, keeping a secret- especially from her best friend.

On a random Friday you had worn a blue skirt, accidentally matching Robin's blue shirt. Steve had pointed it out, laughing it off as you got a snack. Robin noticed the small smirk on your face ever since you came out of your room. She also noticed how it grew as you asked Robin to walk with you to school, since you were both going, of course.

"You're not going to murder her, right?" Steve joked, although seeming a little concerned. A little out of the ordinary.

Rolling your eyes, you slapped him upside the head. "I can't walk with a friend?"

"Yeah, but I didn't think Robin was a friend..."

"We're friends- right, Robin?" With a scoff, you turned to her, waiting for her to reply.

Slowly nodding, she couldn't help but notice the difference lip gloss you wore. Had you been wearing that one all week and she hadn't noticed? She had been over every morning to talk to Steve before school. No, she would have noticed. Why was she so worried about it?!

She stood up ubruptly, bidding goodbye to Steve before hauling herself through the house. She heard you running behind her. "Wait up!" Even now, she hated how she could smell your perfume when you finally caught up, walking beside her. "Thanks for not telling him."

Opting not to respond, she continued to walk, finding her shoes interesting.

"Sorry I've been rude to you in the past, I've just never been able to talk to people and the first time I met you I thought you were just one of his flings but then you stayed and I didn't really know how to feel and you were just so-"

For once it wasn't Robin rambling, she finally understood what her mother was talking about when she'd ramble on for what felt like hours. "Hey, Breathe."

"Sorry."

"I was so what?" Robin stopped walking, turning to you.

She noticed the small blush on your cheeks and ears, yet another pretty pink shade on you.

"What?"

"You said I 'was so'...what were you going to say?"

"Pretty. You were- are so pretty. Sorry." Any sign of the Harrington smirk and confidence was gone. You looked like a whole different person in front of her. Robin couldn't believe it.

"How can you go from a spoiled brat to a shy little thing?" She didn't notice how her voice darkened, usually not talking to you like this. But you had.

"What?" Your eyes widened, jaw droppimg before you glanced around.

Robin felt like she hadn't been in control of her body when those words slipped out. Sure, she had thought them but she didn't want to actually say them! "I didn't- that wasn't supposed to be said outloud. I didn't- I don't." Turning back around, she started walking again. "How about I accept your apology for being mean to me before and you forget about what I just said, deal?"

She could see your stupid grin from beside her, "deal."

"Give it back!" She hated how you would take things and run away with them, giggling as you did so. Like now, you took her sandwich and ran away through Family Video, giggling like a maniac. "C'mon, that was the last of the bread!"

"I'll give it back for a kiss." She hated how your words made her cheeks flush. You've joked about kissing her before, along with all your friends. But it was different for her. She didn't even know if you know about her being lesbian. Steve wasn't one to go around telling everyone her business so she doubted it. When she didn't reply, you slowly made your way back, handing her the sandwich back. "I was kidding."

"Yeah, yeah." She reached for her sandwich, putting it back in the ziplock, not feeling hungry anymore.

You noticed, of course you did. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"No." Your hand was suddenly on her arm, stopping her from moving. Your touch was like fire to her skin, despite how soft your skin was and how you've been whining about how cold it was recently. "What is going on with you lately?"

She opened her mouth to squash whatever you were thinking was wrong with her, but Steve came back from the back room, done with the new stock. "Y/n? I thought you were busy today."

When it hit you, Robin saw it in your face. Your hand fell from her arm, in search of your purse. "Oh shit! I gotta go-" Her eyes never left you as you stepped towards the door. "Robin, we gotta hang out sometime." Her eyebrows were practically over her head, like a surprised cartoon. Her brain felt as if she had forgotten how to talk, or even what word were.

She couldn't do that. She would not be in a room by yourselves ever again. "Date?" It slipped past Robin's lips before her brain fully went back from the frizzy state.

Steve gave a glance to his friend, not quite sure what had changed between you two- going from hating each other to wanting to hang out. He didn't question it. Not having to hear you take jabs at each other was heaven. "Maybe."

Robin heard your voice as soon as she entered the room, causing her feet to turn and try to quickly get out of the room and maybe even the country. "Buckley!"

Shit. Robin cursed herself, shutting her eyes as you giggled, making your way to her. She knew the party was a bad idea. She had been bored all day, with Steve having work and it being her off day, plus a Saturday. When she had heard some kids from school talking about a party, she didn't really think about who would be there. She now regretted that.

"Robin." She turned, seeing your smiling face, noticing your eyes creasing from how big you were grinning.

"Y/n." She acknowledged you. Your face fell a little when her face was straight, not sign of any emotion.

"I wouldn't expect to see you here."

Not knowing why that hit a nerve, she couldn't help to feel hurt. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Uh," your smile fully fell, looking away from her. "Wanna come meet my friends?"

She had followed you through the house, weed and alcohol reeking through the room. Her eyes were set on your back, how the shirt tucked into the back of a pretty little white skirt. She wondered if that was all you had in your closet- it's not like she was complaining. More laughter echoed the little corner where a few people Robin had seen you hang around were sitting.

She stayed by your side most of the night, watching people around and you. She was never one for drinking, you however, wanted the buzz. You were even more giggly. Robin didn't know if she could handle it much longer.

"She just hasn't had this guy yet- I can't turn her back straight." Her eyes shot up to one of the guys who had interrupted your introduction to introduce himself. She could tell he had had way too much to drink, alcohol practically replaced the blood in his veins.

Her eyes followed where he and a few other people were looking and laughing. A girl who was openly lesbian was talking with her friends, laughing and enjoying the party, unknown of the cruel words being said.

The laughing pissed Robin off. Who did he think he was to say that? She couldn't believe you were friends with this guy. She half expecting you to laugh too, any second now. But as she turned slightly to look at you, you looked almost uncomfortable. "Mark, don't say stuff like that." The guy stopped laughing, his eyes traveling your body.

"What, Harrington?" He sat up, dragging his hand down his front to land on his crotch. Robin's nose crinkled in disgust. "You know what I can do to a woman." Your whole face broke out in disgust, almost as if all the alcohol would come up any second. "I'd have her straight as a board in no time."

As you stood up ubruptly, Robin's hands went out to catch you as you wobbled. "You're disgusting." You slurred, turning to walk away.

Robin was up and following you in a second, feeling as if getting away from that group was a breath of fresh air.

When the real fresh air hit her, she noticed you leaning against a tree in the front yard. She was quick to walk over. "Hey- you alright?"

"Yeah. He just makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"That might be the 10 gallons of alcohol you consumed." She joked, chuckling at herself, trying to lighten the situation.

"We should just leave." You got off the tree, wobbling on the sidewalk, towards your house. You didn't expect to feel her following you, thinking she would walk the other way, towards her own house. "What are you doing?"

"Walking you home." Her hands were in her pockets, the wind blowing her hair behind her.

"You don't have to."

"You shouldn't be walking home alone and drunk in the dark."

You didn't reply all the way back to your house. She walked you into the house, grabbing you a glass of water. The door opened with a push of her shoulder against it. "Here." She looked up, eyes growing wide with the lack of clothing you have. Her head shot to your door, closing it incase Steve came out of his room. Her eyes stayed on the ground as she quickly walked over to your dresser, almost slamming the glass down.

"Robin?" She hated how sweet your voice was. It almost didn't sound like you.

No one should ever sound that sweet, it's dangerous. "Ye-yeah?"

"Can you help me?" Her eyes looked up, going straight to your own, not daring to even look at your exposed collar bone.

"What?" Surely you didn't need help just throwing some clothes on.

Yet, you shamelessly stood in your underwear and bra, looking at her. "I can't undo my bra." You turned, your back exposed to her. She felt the air get stuck in her throat.

"Can't you just get in bed?"

"It pokes me." You whined, your hands trying to reach back but failing to fully find the clasp. Robin stepped forward, her hands becoming sweating as they met the cloth, slowly unclasping the three little metel pieces. Even after she was done, she couldn't help how soft your skin looked; how she wanted to lean forward and kiss until her lips felt numb.

"Thank you." She didn't moved as your turned, a tired smile on your face- her eyes stayed looking straight into your own.

The space between you was little, neither of you moving, for different reasons though, Robin had realized. She stepped back, letting you climb into your bed.

"You shouldn't go to bed with makeup on." Her voice was a little over a whisper. She had heard your complaint about how bad it was for your skin and your sheet and pillowcase.

You groaned, throwing your hand over the covers. Before you could voice your distaste for anything but sleep, she was walking towards your vanity, getting the makeup remover and walking over to the bed. You looked up at her as she kneeled beside the bed, bringing the cotton to your face, gently rubbing the makeup off. Your eyes raked over her face as if you haven't seen it before.

"There." She closed the bottle, throwing the cotton into your trash bin, going to stand up. Your hands stopped her movement, making her look at you in question.

She hated how soft your eyes looked up at her. "Thank you, Robin." Your fingers grazed her arm back and forth, an unknown pattern being made. "You're the best."

"I know."

"You can't go home."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't be out this late, all by yourself." She sighed, enjoying the patterns being drawn on her skin.

"I'll be fine."

"No." She looked at you with question in her eyes at how stern you were. "You can stay here." You patted the spot beside you on the bed. She felt the air get caught in her throat again, and her ear turn pink. As if on cue, rain hit your window, running down the glass as if it was taunting Robin and her emotions.

You don't lay in the same bed with people you hate. But she couldn't help it. It was late, cold, and raining. And your voice and face were so soft in emotion. She couldn't help herself.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, listening to the rain outside and your breathing beside her.

After a few minutes of silence in the dark room, she felt movement in the bed, and heard the blanket wrinkle with your movement. Suddenly, she felt your eyes on her, causing her to turn her head.

You were on your side, still having the same look in your eyes, as if she was the first person you had ever laid your eyes on. "You're pretty."

"You need to go to sleep, y/n." She dismissed you, seeing the sleep take over, noticing under your eyes and how your eyes were glossed over in sleep.

"Can I have a goodnight kiss?" She stared at you, not seeing the normal joking smirk, yet she nervously chuckled. She stopped when you sat up, a frown on your face. "I'm serious."

"You're drunk."

"Not enough." She followed your movement, sitting up and ignoring how the sheet fell from your exposed chest. "When I say I want to kiss you, I mean it."

"What?" You rolled your eyes, your hand going to grab hers.

"I like you. A lot, actually."

"It's just the alcohol talking- lay back down."

"No!" She flinched at your outburst. "I like you. I actually do. I have for a while. That's why I was mean to you when Steve brought you over. He's always managed to bring such beautiful girls over and you were way out of his league, truly. I was jealous, I guess." You were almost shy under her gaze, fiddling with your own hands now, letting her have her own back. "I kept being mean so I didn't have to ignore you completely - god, that would've killed me, Robin. I wasn't sure what to do- I certainly couldn't just go up to you and tell you I liked you. I wasn't sure, ya know? But when I saw the way you used to look at Vicky- I knew. I think I also brought my jealously out on you for that- sorry about that. She's a beautiful girl, I get it. But you're my 'Vicky'. I adore you more then I could ever physically express. And I probably wouldn't have even said anything if it weren't for the liquid courage, honestly. But I'm still thinking like I normally do. I know this isn't a mistake, no matter what happens between us next. And I am now realizing I'm blabbering. Sorry."

When you looked up, you were surprised to see her grinning.

"You're adorable." It was your turn to blush. "Can I kiss you?" Her quiet, raspy voice would have you doing anything she could ever ask.

"Of course. It's not like I've asked you 200 times-" her lips met yours, softly moving against each other and not coming up for air until your lungs screamed. She pulled back, her hand grazing the side of your neck.

You could feel her breath fan against your face, her forehead against your own. She whispered against your lips before going back into a kiss, not getting enough of you. "You talk too much."

Maybe she doesn't hate you.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

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artaxlivs · 1 year ago

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Let Me Be Your Man (I want to hold your hand)

CW: none * Rating: Mature (frottage) * Pairing: Steve/Eddie * Prompt: Mixtape

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming!” Steve yells when the pounding on his door gains momentum to add to its volume. Grumbling, he peeks out the side window and sees one of the kid’s bikes thrown down in his lawn. Little assholes.

When he yanks the door open, Mike Wheeler is just raising his fist to pound it against the door again. “I need your help.” His face is red and sweaty with exertion as he shoves past Steve into the house.

Immediately, Steve reaches into the umbrella stand and pulls out the only thing in it - his nail bat. “What’s happening?” He asks, rounding toward Mike, “Why didn’t you radio or call? What is it? Vecna? Jocks? Where’s everyone else?”

Mike skids to a halt and stares at Steve incredulously. “What? No. Put your bat away, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes. “I need your help.”

Relaxing just a small amount, Steve lets the top of the bat rest on the entryway floor. He probably looks as confused as he feels. “What? Why are you saying it like that? What kind of help?”

Mike huffs, throws his hands up and spins on his heel, stalking into the kitchen. Before Steve follows, he counts to ten, puts his bat away and curses the day he started dating Nancy Wheeler. Always the goddamn babysitter.

At the breakfast counter, Mike is deflating, shoulders drooping in what looks like defeat, chin braced in one hand, elbow pressed against the cool tile. With the other hand he’s tracing the lines of grout between the tiles.

On a whim, Steve detours to the fridge, loading up his arms with the makings for sandwiches. Back at the counter, he pulls out four slices of Wonderbread. “So - what brings you to my door?” He shakes the mayo and Mike nods so he starts to slather it on two of the pieces. Mike nods again to the mustard so Steve slathers that on the other two. Giving Mike the time to gather his thoughts.

“Um, well…I, uh, I like someone.” Mike sighs, looking down at the tile where he’s still tracing the lines.

Someone not a girl. Someone. Will. It’s gotta be Will. Steve has seen the way that they both look at each other when the other isn’t looking. He and Robin have talked about it, about which one to approach first to let them into their elite Hawkins Gay Club which currently has two members. Not one and a half, Robin. Being bisexual still means he’s a whole gay. Dang it.

“Cheese?” Steve asks, peeling his own out of the Kraft plastic wrap. When Mike nods, Steve pulls out a second one for him. “Turkey or ham?” He pops open both and proceeds to put both on his own sandwich.

“Both, please.” Mike says and then jumps down, well, steps down because his gangly legs are much longer now. He goes over and grabs the salt and pepper from the back of the stove lip and sprinkles some of each on his, raises an eyebrow and when Steve nods, he sprinkles them on Steve’s as well.

Fancy.

“You want lettuce and tomato?” Steve says, slicing his own. Mike does not, he does go into the pantry and grab a bag of chips though because the kids are way too comfortable in Steve’s house apparently.

“I need your help making a mixtape.” Mike says as sits back down.

Steve frowns. “Why are you here for a mixtape and not at Eddie’s? He’s the music guy.” And really - that’s a no brainer.

Groaning, Mike flops his head down his folded arms on the counter, narrowly missing the bag of chips. “Eddie cannot be trusted to make mixtapes. I was there for four hours, Steve. FOUR HOURS. And all I got was a lesson on ‘real metal versus sell out metal.’” He groans again. “He was so excited to help me but then we just recorded an hour of Black Sabbath songs. W- this person doesn’t even like metal!”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Steve gives Mike an encouraging smile as he cuts their sandwiches in half diagonally. Who cuts sandwiches across the middle? Vecna probably. Monster. “Mixtapes aren’t just about your favorite songs or even their favorite songs. It’s songs that you want to share with them and songs that remind you of them. And, of course, songs that tell them how you feel about them.” He plates both sandwiches and slides Mike’s across the bar. “It helps to know who the person is because mixtapes should be personalized but as long as you know their music, I can probably help you.”

Chewing the first bite slowly, Mike nods like he’s agreeing or gearing up to talk. Steve grabs them each a soda out of the fridge, sliding Mike’s over and taking the bag of chips. “My sister really loved the one you made for her. Well,” He reaches into the chip bag and pulls out a handful before pushing the bag toward Steve, “she still does actually. She plays it sometimes.”

Steve stops with his hand half inside the bag, “She does?”

“Yeaaaah.” Mike drags it out, putting a chip in his mouth but then talking around it. “She said it was the tape that made her realize she needed to break up with you.” Steve makes a little grunt of outrage but Mike pushes through, waving his hand to stop Steve from interrupting. “No, no, she loves that tape. Seriously. She said that listening to it made her realize that you’re the kind of guy who loves forever. But that you loved this girl she made up, she was pretending to be, even though she knew she’d never be that girl again…not after…you know.” He shrugs his bony shoulders and looks down at the counter again.

Without thinking about it, Steve’s eyes flick up to look out of the kitchen window where he can see the corner of the pool. He nods, saying dejectedly, “Yeah, I get that.”

“And sometimes, when Jonathan is being Jonathan, she listens to it to remind her that you saw her as strong and brave - that’s what she said, strong and brave - before she even saw herself that way.” Mike opens his sandwich and puts down a layer of chips on top of the meat, squishing the top slice of bread back down before taking a bite. These kids are such weirdos. With his mouth full, he continues, “She said it reminds her that she doesn’t need Jonathon. Or any man. That she won’t settle for a life she doesn’t want. Not even for a guy like you.”

“Huh.” Steve replies, taking another bite of his own sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “A guy like me?”

Rolling his eyes, Mike makes a sound like he’s tasted something bad and says, “Yeah, don’t get a big head. You still suck.”

Steve snorts. The audacity of this kid is truly admirable. He’s still not sure that makes him feel better but Nancy deserves to get what she wants so he can be happy for her. Even if his tape is part of what drove her away. He shakes it off, though, “Okay, so what type of music does this person like?”

They spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening going through the tapes and albums Steve has and making a list of the ones that Mike has that he thinks might work. Then they pair them down to make an album that flows, “like a story” Steve tells him. The playlist has a song by Bowie because really every playlist should. One from The Smiths because Steve knows Will loves them even though he doesn’t mention that part to Mike. Mike picks the one metal song that Eddie suggested that he thought made sense, they all sound alike to Steve so he doesn’t pay attention to which one it is. The others are sprinkles of songs both boys have shared memories about.

“It’s really the last song that matters,” he tells Mike. “You’ve laid the groundwork for blending your stories together and that last song is the one you have to be brave with. The words matter. That’s the song where you say what you wanna say. Even if it’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done.”

Mike nods slowly, like he’s really focusing on the meaning behind Steve’s words.

The last song, after the Mike and Will songs, after it’s clear that this is a story of the two of them together , is “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” by the Beatles. It’s the only song like it on the whole tape so it stands out clearly. It’s a love song without being slow and romantic. It’s honest. And it says, “let me be your man.” So there are no wrong pronouns. Again, Steve doesn’t mention it.

After running by the Wheeler’s to pick up a few of Mike’s tapes, they pull by the trailer park and Mike runs in to borrow the one that Eddie suggested. At the trailer door, Eddie looks over at Steve waiting in his car and gives him a head nod. Smiling fondly, Steve wonders if those two know how dorky they look in their matching Hellfire shirts and cut off jeans, if Eddie is aware that Mike is trying very hard to be as cool as he thinks Eddie is. Probably not. Eddie is pretty oblivious.

Case in point, Steve’s been hitting on him for weeks with not a single sign that Eddie is aware of it at all.

Maybe Steve should make him a mixtape. He gives a little finger wave that Eddie returns, looking thoughtful as Mike lopes back to the car with his goofily long arms and legs flailing and throws himself into the passenger seat. Steve backs out and drives away, watching Eddie get smaller and smaller in the rearview.

Steve picks them up burgers on the way back to his house and then they lay on his floor next to his big fancy stereo, recording the songs in order, from tape to tape. When they get to the Beatles song, Steve makes an excuse about cleaning up the kitchen and leaves Mike with the tape insert and a pen.

When he comes back, Mike’s folding a piece of notebook paper and tucking it inside the case as well. He must have had a lot to say. His eyes are a little red rimmed but Steve pretends not to notice of course.

In the Wheeler driveway, after he helps Mike dislodge his bike from where they half tucked it into the Bimmer trunk and just let the lid sit on it because it doesn’t actually fit all the way, Steve leans against the car with his arms and ankles crossed, trying to look as relaxed as he can. He wants to say something, let Mike know he’s a safe person to talk to. That they’re alike. He’s not sure how to without scaring him, though.

“Uh…thanks for this, man.” Mike snorts a laugh and gives that snotty side smile of his, “Maybe Dustin’s right about you.”

Steve grins, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods solemnly, “You don’t totally suck.” But then he grins back all cocksure like the almost sixteen year old that he is.

Scoffing, Steve kicks out and hits one of Mike’s bike tires with his shoe, “Thanks, asshole.” Pushing off the car, he starts to turn away but then, “Hey, if it’s who I think it is, you can talk to me - I…I get it. Understand?” He makes sure he catches Mike’s eye so the kid can’t look down and away like he usually does. Steve sees the flash of fear but it’s quickly replaced with hope, maybe even trust.

Mike just nods and Steve gets out of there before he embarrasses the poor kid again. On his drive home, he rolls the windows down, turns his car radio up too loud and sings along, uncaring that he’s probably out of tune.

Steve’s been home for maybe an hour when someone knocks on his door again. There’s less noise this time but it’s still just solid pounding without giving him the chance to get to the door. Everyone he knows is an asshole apparently.

“Alright, alright, keep it in your–” He yanks open the door and finds Eddie standing there still wearing his ripped cutoffs and his Hellfire shirt. Well, the version two that he designed for the club when he handed it down after graduation. “-pants.”

Eddie smiles, sly and flirty, “You sure?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “What are you gonna do when I call your bluff someday?” Because although Steve has been honestly flirting with Eddie, Eddie’s just been over the top hitting on Steve with innuendos and double entendres that don’t mean anything serious. Well, Steve can’t tell if they mean anything serious at least.

Which is part of why Steve hasn’t at least tried to make a move.

“We’ll see when that day comes I guess.” Eddie leans in and taps on Steve’s chest with the tip of his pointer finger. “I made you something Big Boy.”

There’s a circle of burning fire in the spot where Eddie’s finger was. His touches always seem to leave flames in their wake. Steve wonders if Eddie feels them, too “Is it dinner? Because I already ate with Baby Wheeler.”

“Nope.” Eddie drags out the “p” making a popping sound. “Baby Wheeler mentioned you were helping him with his mixtape - said you were some kind of expert.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Steve nods, admitting, “I don’t know about expert. Sorry, though, didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“No, no, it’s cool.” Eddie leans his shoulder against the door jamb which is weird because he’s usually pushed past Steve to make himself at home by this point. Or Steve has invited him in. But they’re just standing here in the open doorway. “Besides - Wheeler informed me that I suck at mixtapes. Something about telling a story and not shoving metal down people’s throats.”

Steve crosses his arms defensively, “Don’t take it personally. You’re great at dragon stories. Gotta leave something for the rest of us to be good at.” He’s looking down so he misses the expression that accompanies the scoff Eddie gives but it sounds exasperated.

“Well.” Eddie says, bringing Steve’s eyes back up to him as he pulls a cassette tape out of his vest pocket. “Anyway, here.”

It shouldn’t make him feel the way it does. But it does. Steve’s heart flutters and his stomach swoops and the finger that brushes Eddie’s as he takes the tape feels like it’s charged with lightning. He’s still not sure, though, it could be that kind or it could just be Eddie trying to prove that metal is the best.

Before he can stop himself, he asks, “You made me a mixtape?” And the hopefulness in his voice is as clear as day. But then it’s met with a look in Eddie’s eyes - fear, denial, like he wants to take it back, so Steve pivots, teasing, “Is it an hour of metal? Did you do a voice over?”

Rolling his eyes and stuffing his hands into his vest pockets, Eddie hisses, “No. Jerk.”

After a moment of indecision, Steve asks hesitantly, “Do you..do you wanna listen to it together?”

There’s fear in Eddie’s eyes again and he takes a wary step back, “Uh - no. No, that wouldn’t be a great idea.” He swings his arms, snapping and bringing the flat of one hand against the curled first of the other before pointing finger guns at Steve. It’s so horribly awkward that Steve is filled with hope again. “Uh, yeah, it’s, um, it’s just for you, man.” He’s clearly nervous and waves of anxious energy are almost rolling off of him as he spins and walks away, throwing a confident, “See ya Harrington!” over his shoulder but Steve’s not fooled at all.

“Oh you will, Munson.” Steve calls after him, slow smile growing when Eddie’s shoulder’s visibly hunch before he leaps into his van and pulls away, tires practically squealing with the force of him gunning it.

Huh. Interesting.

Closing the door, Steve goes over to the phone on the entryway table where he leaves his keys and Family Video vest every night. He dials and after two rings, Robin picks up, “Thank you for calling Family-oh damn it, I mean, hello?”

“You’re such a mess.” Steve snorts.

“Fuck you Harrington, you’re such a mess!” She whisper shouts, because if her dad hears her cussing, she'll be grounded until she leaves for college.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t.” Steve assures her. “But listen - Mike came over earlier–”

“Mike?!” She actually shouts this time. “Is there a Code Red? What happened? Why didn’t you call me?” There’s the distinct sound of her rolling off of her bed and scrambling for shoes or clothes.

“Calm down, you ninny.” He sighs. “We are scarily alike.”

“Duh.” Then she makes an oof sound as she flops back onto her bed.

“I thought the same thing because when does Mike ever willingly talk to me?”

“Like, never. Unless it’s to make fun of you – ohhh wait, did he come to talk about Will?” She squees. “Did the baby gay come to get advice from his babysitter?”

Steve laughs, switching the phone to his other ear and sitting down on the carpeted stairs. He should have made this call from his bedroom where he could have laid on his bed, too late now. “Sort of? He asked for my help making a mixtape for ‘someone’ but didn’t tell me who and I didn’t out him by asking but when I dropped him off at home, I hinted that I knew and he could talk to me.”

“Ohhhh Steve, that’s so adorable. If I remotely liked any of your children, I’d be touched.” She straight out lies because they all know she adores Max like a little partner in crime. “Why you though? Why not Eddie?”

“That’s what I said!” He laughs and then dives into telling her the whole story. Eddie’s metal sell out lesson, the hours of pouring over music, Nancy’s love of his mixtape that he made for her back in high school. She comments and laughs at all the right places because they are of one mind, as always. Then though, then, he drops the bomb.

“So, the reason I’m calling is because Eddie showed up at my door. With a mixtape. For me. And he declined my offer to listen to it together.” Steve twists the cord around his finger, waiting until the skin turns red before unwinding it.

“Oh my god! What’s on it?” She shouts, “And why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I don’t know what’s on it. I haven’t listened to it yet.”

“Why not, you dingus?!” Robin screeches then she adds in a subdued tone, “Do you think…?”

In an equally subdued tone he replies, “I don’t know. I think that’s why I called you first. I’m a little scared to get my hopes up.”

She makes a little noise of agreement. She’s been there.

“And I just…I’m not his type at all. And I know that. But he’s so…” Steve sighs and lays back on the stairs awkwardly, it’s not comfortable at all but it’s keeping him focused. “He’s loud and brash and annoying and I like that because I’m not. But he’s also sweet and squishy and brave and so fucking funny. Argh.”

“And you already got your hopes up when he dropped it off and you don’t want to be disappointed?” Robin asks gently because she really does know him so well.

“Yeah,” he tells her in a hushed voice. “His face when he handed it over, Rob. He was nervous. And then he practically ran away.”

“Well, idiot, you won’t know until you listen.” She says matter-of-factly and he can almost hear her brushing off her hands and standing up. “Buck up. You want me to come over and listen to it with you?”

“Nah. I want to hear it the first time on my own.” That way he can cry before he has to face her if that’s where this is going. “I’ll call you if I need you, though, k?”

“You know I’m always here for you.”

He does.

After they hang up, Steve doesn’t waste anymore time. He doesn’t want to give himself any time to think so he heads into the living room and pops it into the tape deck he and Mike had just recorded ‘someone’s’ tape on. Laying back on the floor he lets the first song play.

He doesn’t recognize the first chords but the recording itself is kinda fuzzy, like it’s a live version of something. It’s an acoustic guitar, slow but building. When the voice comes in, Steve sits up and turns toward the speaker. It’s Eddie.

I was always trapped. Drowning in this small town, Dragged down by small minds To the bottom of the lake. Spent most of my days on the run from myself. Running from the me I wasn’t ready to be. Trapped in this small town with these small minds. That is, until you. Until there was you. You stood your ground. Stood up for mine, too. And I never ran as fast as I did to you.

There’s a guitar break. It’s beautiful, simple, a slow melody that builds with Eddie’s voice almost trembling when it comes back in.

You’re the boy The boy who stops the world. Stops it from spinning Out of my reach. I want to run to you. But we’re stuck in this town With these small minds, That drag us down. I just wanna be free Free to love you. I only wanna run If you’ll catch me. In this small town In this small town

The song fades out and there’s the sound of Eddie’s breathing, it catches like he’s going to say something but then exhales and the recording clicks off. Steve speeds through the tape and flips it over and does the same to the other side. The rest of it is empty. He plays the song again. Listening with his eyes closed this time.

Then he jumps up, ejects the tape, grabs his keys and fumbles with the lock on the way out. He doesn’t let himself think. Just plays the song over and over for the fifteen minute drive to the trailer park. All the lights in the trailer are on and the music in Eddie’s room is blaring loud enough that Steve can hear it in his car with his own music still on.

He still doesn’t stop to think, just rushes out of the car and up the steps to pound on the door and when Eddie opens it with wide eyes and a healthy dose of fear on his face, Steve thinks for a second that he should say something, confirm that it’s a song written for him - about them both - but he can’t. Or he’ll chicken out.

So, instead, he just steps into the trailer, forcing Eddie to take a step back, pushes the door shut behind him and whispers, “Too many small minds out there.” And kisses Eddie.

It’s a good kiss too. Steve cradles Eddie’s head and tilts him just enough that he can get the perfect angle to …what’s the word in all those trashy books? Ravish. Steve ravishes Eddie’s mouth. It’s not sweet, it’s desperate and filled with need and when he finally lets go, Eddie’ lips are swollen and kiss bitten.

“I hope that song was telling me you like me or this is going to be a very awkward conversation.” Steve says when Eddie’s eyes flutter open.

“I’d have made you a whole mixtape but Wheeler told me this afternoon that the final song is the one that really matters.” Eddie grins then, wide and impish, swooping in to catch Steve’s mouth with his own. When he comes up for air, he whispers, “Besides, where was I gonna get an hour of ABBA songs?”

Growling, Steve walks Eddie backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he sits. “I’m more of a Springsteen fan, actually.” He says as he climbs into Eddie’s lap and swoops down for a kiss.

It’s frenzied and graceless, like the two desperate kids they still are. Neither of them old enough to buy a six pack of beer and both overflowing with the sexual tension they’ve built up between them. Steve can’t seem to stop kissing Eddie long enough to do anything more than grind himself down against Eddie’s lap.

Luckily, Steve’s been in his old basketball shorts all day and Eddie changed into sweats sometime after he’d gotten home so there’s nothing but a few layers of cotton between their rock hard boners.

Jesus, it feels like the first time Steve dry humped with some girl back in freshman year. But like, a thousand times better. Not just because they both have dicks but because it’s Eddie .

He rolls his hips, brushing their aforementioned dicks together and swallows Eddie’s groan. Eddie’s hands are on Steve’s hips, guiding him as he rolls them, flexing his hands around the softness there. When Steve moans into Eddie’s mouth, Eddie’s hands slip around and squeeze his ass, cupping it and helping him press their laps together. One of them whines as their dicks slot together just right and they both thrust against each other.

“Stevie, fuck. Yes,” Eddie swears, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Then his tongue is back in Steve’s mouth, sliding along Steve’s, sucking on his bottom lip. He licks and nips and bites his way down Steve’s throat, probably leaving bruises and Steve should care about that but he doesn’t.

“Eddie, Eddie - I need,” It’s too fast, Steve knows he can last so much longer than this but he can’t seem to slow down. “Oh, god.”

“What, Stevie?” Eddie manages between grunts as they rut against each other desperately, “What do you need?”

Oh god, he’s almost there, Steve feels the warmth pooling in his belly, the muscles in his legs straining, the droplets of precome sticking to his underwear and Eddie’s hard cock pushing against the length of his own as he cries, “You, fuck, just you.” And then he comes, arching and fucking against Eddie. One hand buried in the hair at Eddie’s nape and the other digging his fingernails into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pulls Steve tight to his chest, one hand around his back, holding Steve close while he comes. Eddie’s still thrusting against Steve, rolling and pressing with his hips until he, too, arches and comes with a hoarse shout.

When Eddie relaxes back against the couch, Steve collapses in his lap, head resting on Eddie's shoulder, breath hot against his collarbone. Both fucked out and exhausted.

Minutes later, once the aftershocks have subsided for both of them and Steve’s sweaty forehead is pressed into the side of Eddie’s sweaty neck, Steve admits, “Fine, I like ABBA but who doesn’t? Those songs are catchy.”

Eddie snorts a laugh out. Then, it's a little gross, but they both start laughing and have to peel their damp crotches away from each other. Totally worth it, though, when Eddie brings Steve's hand up to his mouth, kissing the palm before he threads their fingers together so he can hold Steve's hand.

Thanks to @thefreakandthehair for hosting this challenge! It was super fun and I'm so glad I actually made it in under the deadline. Skin of my teeth!

Here's the Ao3 link if you want to drop me some love there - comments make my brain buzz and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the perfect Mike/Will or Steve/Eddie mixtape playlist!

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #spicysix #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #baby gays #mixtape #the beatles are forever #always the goddamn babysitter #for a good reason though

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year ago

Text

@steddiemas Day 6 - Baking & Cookie Decorating

pairing: pre-steddie | word count: 1,911 | rated: G

A couple days later finds Eddie on his way to Steve’s house at the early as fuck hour of 8:30am

“AARrugh–fuuck!” he curses again, trying to stifle down another cracking yawn, “It should be illegal to be up this early.”

“You mean the normal time people get up?”

“No, normal is lunchtime. Realistic is two.”

“God, you’re such a loser.”

“And yet you still hang out with me.”

“Uh, no. I hang out with Steve and El and Lucas and sometimes Dustin. You’re just there by association.”

“Ouch Red, that hurts my soul.” He winces dramatically

“What soul?”

Eddie grins at her, “Touché, Maxine”

Her tiny, pointy knuckles meet his bicep as he pulls Bessie into the Harringtons’ driveway.

They’re having a pre-thanksgiving dinner with the party before they all have actual Thanksgiving with each of their families, and Max insisted on coming over early to help Steve with preparations.

“If we don’t go help, he’s going to do it all by himself you know.”

“Robin will be there, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna do everything by himself. You know Robin is moral support at best.”

“And what are we gonna be, huh? You think I’m any better?”

She had huffed at that. “We’re going, Munson.”

So, here they are. Like Eddie suspected, as soon as they breach the front door, Robin is visible on one of the stools at the island, sleep rumpled and a mug in hand, and Steve is standing at the stove already.

“Good ‘morrow to you, Lord and Lady Buckley,” Eddie bellows, startling them both, “Myself and the young Miss Mayfield have traveled far to be with you on this momentous day, and to offer to you our services.” he gives them a dramatic bow, glancing up through his lashes.

Steve is grinning, Robin has collapsed forward onto the counter in front of her, Max is groaning.

He stands straight again, “We may only be a couple of lowly peasants in your Kingdom, but the call to help was unavoidable.”

“Eddie did not want to come help, lemme make that clear.”

“Shut up, Max”

“You shut up, liar–”

“Okay, okay!” Steve laughs, interrupting them, “Many thanks to you both for making the trip; your help will be greatly appreciated.”

Eddie’s stomach goes soupy, he loves when Steve plays along.

“So, what can we do?” he asks, clapping his hands once and rubbing his palms together like he’s itching to get started.

“Well, it is still pretty early (“I told you.”, “Shut up, Eddie.”), so right now you can help by telling me how you like your eggs.”

The turkey goes into the oven halfway through breakfast, Steve having prepped it last night, so Steve starts to cipher out what else he needs to make.

“Dustin said that Claudia was making a pumpkin pie for us, so we’re set there, I’m making the sweet potato casserole, Lucas said that his mom is sending over a pan of greens with him and Erica, Robin has the stuffing covered–”

“I make a mean can of Stovetop.” Robin cuts in from the sink where she’s washing the few dishes from breakfast.

“Pretty much everyone else is bringing something…” Steve looks lost for a moment, then his expression turns tense, that crease between his brows cuts deep into his skin.

Max must see this too because she says, “What about cookies?”

“Cookies?”

“Yeah, like the sugar cookies you made everyone a tin of last year?” “You made everyone sugar cookies?? Why wasn’t I given any?” Steve rolls his eyes, “‘Cause last year you were just Eddie “The Freak” Munson,”

“Hey��I resent that,” Eddie pokes Steve in the chest, “I’m still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, thank you very much.” “Many apologies, Your Freak-ness, how ever shall I make it up to you.” His tone is sarcastic, but the words make a whole matter of unsavory retorts gather on Eddie’s tongue.

“C’mon Steve, I want those damn cookies!” Max demands, smacking a palm onto the counter to really sell it.

“Hey! Language.”

“I also want some of those damn cookies.” Robin agrees.

“Yeah c’mon Stevie, I didn’t get to have any last year and now I’m curious.” “Dude, they’re the best cookies ever. I hate that he only makes them once a year.”

“Okay, okay, fine! Lemme make sure I have everything I need.”

He does, so he gets to work as requested demanded, though he does send Max and Robin (with her newly acquired license) to the store for powdered sugar. “For the frosting..I’m sure you want frosting on these, right?”

Eddie sticks close after they leave, watching Steve work and passing him ingredients.

At one point, Eddie scoops up a cup of flour for him, only to have Steve wrap his hand over his on the handle of the cup and start to stir the flour in it with a fork.

“Uh, do you always need to stir your flour before putting it in?” Is that a thing? Eddie has never done that, even within the few times he’s ever actually baked something before.

“You do if the person scooping packs it into the cup like this.” Steve teases, spinning the fork around in his hand to scrape the now-overflowing heap of flour off the top of the measuring cup and back into the bag with the handle. “Flour doesn’t get packed down to measure, fluffy and loose measurements only.” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand forward and upends the cup over the mixing bowl.

Eddie’s mouth feels like it’s coated in flour.

“There! Perfect. I’ll need another cup just like that one.” Steve smiles and passes the fork to him.

He lets Eddie's hand go and turns back to the bowl, mixing the flour in with one of those rubber scraping spatulas instead of using the electric beater he’d used for the eggs and sugar.

“So,” Eddie re-wets the inside of his mouth so he can talk correctly, “Why do you only make these once a year?” He carefully scoops up another helping of flour.

“They’re usually Christmas cookies and I– aw shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any non-Christmas themed cookie cutters.”

Eddie immediately thinks back to one of the last Christmases he had with his mom. Ouch…damn it.

He gulps down the lump in his throat. “Do you have any empties?”

Eddie can feel Steve watching him as he works, carefully cutting the tops and bottoms off a good sized bag of empty soda and beer cans over the sink. He cuts the new aluminum rectangles in half lengthwise and sets the strips aside.

“You’ve made these before?”

“Yep! Easier to make your own than buy them, y’know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“My mom liked to make new ones every year, so I have a lot of practice doing this,” Eddie pushes on, picking up a strip of metal and folds it in half lengthwise. “We’ll need some tape for the open side, but basically you fold it like this, shape it however you want, and fold the ends over each other to keep them closed.”

He demonstrates, making a messy heart shape pretty quickly. “You can link more than one together if you want, too. Make bigger ones…Ta da!” He shows off the ‘finished’ shape.

“Sweet!”

By the time Robin and Max return, Eddie’s got a pile of aluminum strips ready to go, and Steve’s done with the dough.

“Perfect timing, ladies, come help us make cookie cutters.”

Max pulls up a stool immediately, grabbing a couple of the metal strips, but Robin huffs. “Aw, what? We have to make the cookie cutters first? I thought I’d come home to a house full of cookies, Steve.”

“The dough has to chill in the fridge for an hour, and we don’t have any Thanksgiving themed ones.” Steve says, rolling his eyes at her. “Also, you weren’t even gone that long!”

Robin pulls up a stool, “Excuses, Steven.”

Turns out, there’s not that many shapes associated with turkey day, so after the obligatory pumpkin shape, and a surprisingly well-shaped turkey-looking blob, they make whatever else they feel like.

Robin uses a ruler she found in a drawer to fold some ridges into a circle shape, “It’s a pie, obviously.”, Steve uses a few strips to make what he says is an elephant, “Yeah, an elephant. These are the two ears and this is the trunk.”, Max uses two of the strips to make some sort of flower shape with five pointy petals, “A…poinsettia?” Eddie asks; “A demogorgon.” Steve and Max say at the same time. Ah., and Eddie spends his time linking a good few together to make the Hellfire demon.

“I hope this doesn’t get all blob-y.”

Steve looks over at his creation, “It shouldn’t, the dough holds up pretty well when it’s baked; that’s why you let it chill for a bit.”

He stands then, retrieving the saran-wrapped hunk of dough from the fridge and gets to work rolling it out.

Eddie watches the muscles in his arms bunch and pull, and, like a sap, thinks about how they’d feel wrapped around him. He likes hugs, okay? Sue him.

The four of them cut batch after batch after batch of cookies (each of them sneaking bites of the dough as they do), and by time they are baked and fully cooled, the sweet potatoes are in the oven, the stuffing is sitting done on the stove, there’s a sheet of rolls waiting to go in after the casserole, the others start to show up.

“Oh sweet, cookies!” Dustin’s finger immediately dunks into the bowl of frosting Steve just finished whipping up.

“Hey! Hands off, asshole, I still need to color some of that.

Steve passes Eddie a bowl of the stuff, a couple of drops of food coloring sitting on top. “Mix that up, will you?” I’m making the orange, that’s yellow.”

Eddie gives him a mock salute, “You got it boss.”

“Henderson, grab the sprinkles, you’re helping with these.”

The island is a disaster by the time they are done frosting the cookies. There’s colored sugar everywhere, loose M&Ms, broken pretzels, and there’s even a glob of red frosting hanging precariously from the underside of one of the far cabinet doors (somehow).

Each of the new arrivals grab up a couple of the cookies to decorate once they get in, adding their own goofy-looking additions to the heap.

Mike and Nancy are the last to arrive, toting a huge bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes, and they dig into the turkey soon after.

They eat and eat and eat, laughing and eating some more, that by the time anyone gets around to the cookies, the very outside of their frosting has hardened to a crust and the inside is still soft and sugary.

“Oh my god, Steve.” Eddie moans, “This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.”

Steve’s face flushes pink, but he smiles wide. “I’m glad you like them, Eds.”

“I need to take some home to Wayne.”

Steve passes him a tupperware container of their creations as he’s leaving, along with an index card with Steve’s distinct handwriting is scrawled across it; the recipe for the cookies.

Eddie gets home that night just before Wayne heads in for his shift. “Y’have a good day, son?” he asks, plucking out one of the cookies from the container Eddie holds open for him as they pass each other in the doorway.

He smiles wide, “Very..”

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