#baby ficlet
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Adolin was not quite awake, but on some level he was aware of the shifting in bed and the panting breath of someone beside him. What did wake Adolin was the night air on his abdomen and the firm touch of a hand on his gut. Not a loving caress, not rough either, but probing, assessing.
Adolin opened his eyes, and he could see Kaladin leaning over him in the darkness. His hand kept probing along a line on Adolin's torso until he reached a spot just above Adolin's opposite hip. Kaladin's shoulders dropped then, breathing out tension in a relieved sigh.
Adolin put it together. "Thaylen oathgate again?" he asked.
"Yeah," Kaladin confirmed in a hoarse whisper. "Sorry I woke you, I just had to check."
Adolin wrapped both arms around Kaladin's back and pulled him close. He could feel Kaladin's heartbeat start to slow down after the nightmare he'd just had. "I'm okay," he reassured him. "I'm all right."
"I know," Kaladin murmured into Adolin's shoulder.
"Think you'll be able to fall back asleep?"
"Probably. Maybe. Not like this though. You're not as soft as Shallan."
Adolin smirked as he glanced toward where Shallan slept on his other side. Kaladin wouldn't be able to sleep on her in this position either. He'd be too worried about crushing her. It was adorable, really.
"You're full of crem," Adolin said fondly, letting a hand glide up to stroke Kaladin's hair.
Kaladin chuckled as he settled his full weight against Adolin, despite his words, and Adolin couldn't help but chuckle back.
Apparently this was too much for Shallan, who groaned and flung a lazy hand toward both their heads. One of her knuckles caught Adolin on the cheek. "Goslee'boys," she grumbled.
"Kaladin had a nightmare," Adolin informed her. "Don't you care?"
"Yeah. So sleep."
"Love you too," Kaladin murmured.
Shallan groaned and rolled over, snuggling up to both of them. She ran her hand along Kaladin's back.
"Mm-hmmmm," she said, settling into Adolin's other shoulder. "Now shaddup."
#first stormlight fic I'm actually posting happy shakadolin day#stormlight archive#kaladin stormblessed#adolin kholin#shallan davar#shakadolin#cosmere#baby ficlet
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'Steve Harrington – Actual Babysitter?' (Drabble Prompt: Fluff)
Eddie walks into Family Video expecting to find Steve lolling on his swivel chair behind the counter and flipping through a magazine instead of doing... Well, whatever actually is written on that clipboard Robin is typically flapping about for fear of the wrath of Keith.
But Robin isn't in today and the store is quiet. Aka, it's the perfect opportunity for Eddie to come in with Steve's lunch, where they sit together and chat. No, he doesn't bring it every Wednesday like clockwork. And no, he isn't bringing along his own lunch so he can pretend it's a date or anything.
No – definitely nothing like that.
Even if there is some banter that some people (Robin) might describe as flirting.
It's just that he has to take what he can get lately when it comes to his kinda-sorta big, fat, dumb crush on Steve. Especially now that the guy is disappointingly incommunicado on their no-longer Sunday Night pizzas.
Steve insists he isn't dating anyone – and he sure is complaining about that fact enough. But, well...
Eddie does worry.
And he damn near panics at the sight of an empty Family Video. The store is eerily silent too as he steps inside and looks around.
"St – "
"– Oovie!"
Eddie jolts with a yelp as the babbling yell of what could only be the shrill tones of a whole-ass human child reverberates around him.
"Yes, buddy," comes Steve's voice from behind the counter, "Oh – well, maybe not Rambo."
Eddie tip-toes forward and places his hands on the counter before he peers over the edge, where he finds Steve surrounded by the parts of a dismantled VCR. In his lap is indeed a human child, a boy with chestnut brown hair who couldn't be more than two.
He doesn't know all that much about kids, really, but Eddie is pretty certain the little squirt shouldn't be waving around a videotape with such force Steve might get clomped in the head at any moment.
The boy yell-babbles again and Steve swerves away from a side swipe to his beautiful noggin.
"Okay, maybe we shouldn't play with this one," Steve says, gently placing his hand on the tape and giving it a light tug.
The boy squirms, and in doing so makes direct eye contact with Eddie. They both startle, and Eddie thinks if anyone was watching, they might say his eyes look as wide as the kid's staring up at him.
The boy points at Eddie and coos with a big, toothy grin.
"Stee!"
"Can you stop –" Steve grumbles, cutting himself off as the boy begins to tilt them sideways. He looks up and gasps, "Oh!"
Steve scrambles upright with the boy, who makes an (admittedly, adorable) wooshing sound as he is swooped up and bundled into a pair of burly arms that today appear to be bursting out of the confines of a navy blue polo shirt.
Eddie blushes, looking back at the boy in an attempt to regulate his heart rate.
"What's with the baby, Steve?" he says, trying to sound biting rather than flustered as Steve props the kid on his hip like it's second nature.
Steve takes the boy's hand and bounces him a little as he tries to encourage a wave, "You know Angie, my mom's best friend? This is her kid, George."
George finally waves and Steve grins, all proud in a way that makes Eddie's cheeks blush. Shit, he really wasn't prepared for something like this to happen today.
Or maybe like ever, really.
"George," he nods, offering a two-finger salute.
"Angie stopped by and realised she forgot something over at Melvad's," Steve explains, swaying now as George looks around the store, "So I'm taking care of little Georgie for a minute."
Georgie?
Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.
"I s-see," he splutters as he comes up for air.
"And we are fixing VCRs today, aren't we, Georgie?" Georgie tee-hees at that and oh goddamn it, now the little gremlin is trying to get his tiny, pudgy arms around Steve for a hug, "Then we're gonna pick a movie for Sunday Funday."
"Oovie!" Georgie cheers.
Wait.
"You're babysitting on Sundays?"
"Yeah," Steve shrugs before looking down at George with a fond smile, "I kinda like it, y'know?"
#i see fluff and i give steve a baby#i've written a couple of variations of this scenario i think but#today i needed to stick with one of my comfort tropes 💜#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#lilys drabbles#stwgdailyprompt#family video 📼
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The Winner Takes It All
poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)
CW: slight light angst (between reader x other students), confusion on relationship status, fluff
You didn’t really know what you had done to win the affections of the infamous Marauder boys – namely Remus, Sirius, and James – but you weren’t going to question it too deeply; you quite enjoyed their company.
Everyone knew the three boys were together: Sirius and James were never known for their subtlety, and Remus was the reluctant (but quite pleased) victim of their near constant PDA.
Somehow, you too had gotten swept up in their affections.
It wasn’t official – in the sense that you and the boys had never discussed what their flirting, pet names, cuddles, or forehead kisses meant in the grand scheme of things – but no one was ignorant to the chemistry between the four of you. The boys were so unbelievably sweet with you, and their attention felt like nothing short of worship.
James’ excessive excitement when you walked into a room left you feeling like you meant something; an overwhelming sense of belonging within his space. Sirius’ devilish flirting, compliments, and obvious ogling made you feel more beautiful than you ever thought possible. And Remus’ small gestures – whether carrying your books for you, ensuring you’ve eaten and drank enough water, and his special nicknames he seemed to save just for you - left you melted into a puddle of fondness.
And that wasn’t always taken very well by others.
Namely, Emmeline Vance.
The boys had been known to be quite…open…in their sexual encounters in the past and have, on occasion, included a fourth party in their dorm room activities. This quickly stopped when some parties felt this meant they were included in their dynamic.
Emmeline was one of them, and it appeared she wasn’t taking the news of them seemingly working to include an official fourth to their relationship very well.
This is one of the reasons you hadn’t brought up exactly what you meant to them; you were not interested in simply being the boys’ next bedmate, and a part of you was afraid that bringing things up would expose the fact that this was indeed their hope.
The other part of you knew that the boys weren’t the kind to string someone along, and that they’d have to be playing an awfully long game if that was truly their angle. But the possibility squeezed at your heart nonetheless.
Emmeline had taken to making snooty comments to you when the boys weren’t around. Lily, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas seemed particularly bothered by it, but you did your best to ignore her.
But there was a part of you that wanted to scream at her a little bit…you weren’t even technically in a relationship with them! You’d never slept with them, you’d never even properly kissed any of them, and you certainly hadn’t made any moves to make whatever this was ‘official’.
Another part of you didn’t even want to entertain the situation. You had far more important things to concern yourself with: You were studying for your NEWTS, considering whether you wanted to head right into the workforce or explore further education, and where the hell you were going to live after graduation.
Unfortunately, Emmeline wasn’t the only one to pick up on your new-found closeness with the Marauders.
“Well, well, well…look what the lions dragged in.” Mulciber sneered from behind you as you made your way up the path from Hogsmeade. You rolled your eyes and kept your head forward; you’d been given permission from the headmaster to run to the village to purchase more potions ingredients, but apparently, so had the Slytherins.
“What? Good enough for those Gryffindor’s but not us? Where’re you running too?” Avery continued with a malicious grin when you picked up your pace.
Thankfully, you could see the Hogwarts grounds were up ahead, and Lily was there at the gates waiting for you.
“Sod off.” You threw over your shoulder, feeling slightly bolder in the presence of your friend.
You smiled warmly at the redhead as she threw her arm over your shoulder, sparing the Slytherin gits behind you a withering glare as you carried on towards the castle.
“What’s their problem now, hm?” She asked you, still glaring at the boys.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, who knows. Not happy with anyone associated with the Marauders.”
Lily snorted inelegantly. “I don’t even think they’ve bothered pranking the Slytherin’s lately.”
“Nope.” You agreed with a pop of the P. “Everyone’s got bigger problems right now.”
Lily laughed but it turned into a groan. “Yeah, speaking of: incoming.”
You followed her gaze to see Emmeline making her way towards the two of you.
“Hello Lily!” She said cheerily before her face turned stony as the considered you, “Y/N.”
You tried to refrain (somewhat unsuccessfully) from rolling your eyes as you said hello to the girl.
“Have you seen the boys around?” She asked feigning innocence, but you both knew exactly who she was on about.
Lily played dumb, though you knew that she knew very well who Emmeline was looking for. “Which boys, Vance? That covers just about half of the population at Hogwarts.” She asked coolly.
“Remmy, Siri, and Jamie. Obviously. I’m going to ask them to Hogsmeade this weekend.” She shared with a sense of finality. You did roll your eyes at this, and Lily scoffed.
“Well, my first place to look for them would be with Y/N, and seeing as they’re not here, I couldn’t tell you.” Lily spat.
Emmeline narrowed her eyes and looked between the two of you before she levelled a glare at you.
“This isn’t over. I’ll win them back.” She said plainly, and something about her tone caused you to snap.
The Slytherin’s, Emmeline, the stress of not knowing – it was all too much, and you were done.
“You know what, Emmeline?” You said in a calm tone as you looked to the sky. “You can have them.”
Lily whipped her head to look at you bewilderedly at the same time Emmeline cocked her head at you.
“I beg your pardon?” She asked as you returned your eyes to her.
“If you think you can ‘win’ them, you can have them. I don’t want something that can so easily be taken from me, anyway. But you’re competing in a game that I’m not even playing, so either take them or leave me alone because I’ve got bigger fucking problems than your stupid school-girl crush.” You were out of breath by the time you finished; your face was hot, and you were sure it was likely the colour of Lily’s hair, but you willed yourself not to cry as you stormed toward the castle.
Damn being an angry crier.
You were just so tired – this wasn’t a game to you; these were your friends, perhaps more (you certainly hoped more), and it was also your feelings. But what you said was true – nothing that can be taken from you is worth keeping, not even them.
Lily quickly caught up to you but knew better than to say anything now, giving you the chance to breathe and calm down. You both made your way to Gryffindor tower where you threw yourself haphazardly into one of the plush couches near the fireplace.
“Fuck.” You groaned as you rubbed your hand down your face.
“You okay, hun?” Lily asked as she pet your head commiseratively.
You groaned again as you let your hand fall from your head and hang dramatically off the side of the couch. “Yeah, just tired. Of everything.”
Lily hummed in sympathy. “Why don’t you relax up here? I can bring you something from the Great Hall for supper.”
You looked at your friend like she hung the moon. “You’d do that for me?”
She chuckled and pinched your cheek, “‘Course. Anything for you, gorgeous.” She winked, trying on her best Sirius Black voice to mimic what the boy has said to you many-a-times before.
They really did treasure you, didn’t they?
You sort of regretted your outburst now – you knew the boys weren’t a prize in some juvenile contest; that’s what you’d been trying to point out – but you worried that’s not the way it sounded. What would they do once they heard? And you knew they would – hear about it, that is. Would their feelings be hurt? Would they understand? Would they feel embarrassed to be spoken about in such a manner?
You didn’t have much time to think about it after Lily left, because before you knew it, said boys were crawling through the portrait hole.
“Angel!” James shouted at you as he found your form curled up against the arm of the couch. He made for you instantly, vaulting himself over the back of the couch sat opposite of you like some kind of living room gymnast and launching himself onto your couch, nearly right on top of you.
“Hi Jamie.” You said shyly as his arms wrapped around your middle and he dug his face into the crook of your neck.
“Missed you.” He said, though the sound was muffled from the new home he seemed to have made in your being.
“Lily said we’d find ya here.” Sirius said as he sat on the coffee table in front of you. You grimaced in response.
“How was your trip to Hogsmeade?” Remus redirected at your obvious discomfort, taking a place beside Sirius.
“Oh, it was alright. I found what I needed.” You answered quietly, playing with the nailbeds of your fingers. Sirius quickly gave you one of his hands to play with instead.
“We heard you gave Vance a verbal lashing.” He said as you fiddled with one of the many rings adorning his long fingers. You groaned and let your head fall back onto the couch.
“Sirius.” Remus quietly (though lovingly) chided. “Do you wanna talk about it, dove?”
And there he goes with the nicknames, and James’ cuddling and Sirius’ piercing gaze and what the hell were you even doing here?
“No.” You answered. “I don’t know.” You amended quickly.
“I hope she didn’t upset you too terribly.” James offered quietly as he moved his chin to rest on your shoulder so he could look at you. You were suddenly self-conscious of how the side of your head looked.
“No. I may have been a little out of line.” You acquiesced. Sirius scoffed dramatically.
“Please, you’ve never been unreasonable a day in your life. You should try it once in a while.”
You chuckled at the dark-haired boy. “If anyone can drive me to it, it’ll be you boys.” You tried to joke, but it came out somberly.
“I’m sorry if being with us makes things a little tricky for you, with other students.” Remus apologized.
You snorted. “I’m not sure why being friends with you guys should be such an issue for other people.”
“Friends?” James asked as he sat up a little straighter. You cocked your eyebrow as you turned to look at him.
“Well, I don’t know…We’ve never really discussed anything, I didn’t want to assume…” You trailed off as you started picking at your nailbeds again. This time, Sirius moved to his knees in front of you and took both of your hands in each of his.
“Assume. Assume it all; all of it, everything. We’re yours.” He said emphatically, punctuating each sentiment with a squeeze of your joined hands.
“If you’ll have us…” Remus corrected, and you felt something swell behind your eyes at the faint blush that appeared on his cheeks.
James seemed just as moved by Remus’ bashfulness as he leaned forward to caress the boy’s cheek. “We know we’d love to have you.” James finished for him.
You sniffled and offered them a tight smile. “I’d like that.”
Sirius deflated instantly and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank gods. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”
“Die, probably.” James said seriously, surprising a laugh out of you.
“We never wanted you to feel insecure in your place with us, dovey. We’re sorry we didn’t make it clearer how much you mean to us.” Remus continued.
“It’s not that. You make me feel very…” but you trailed off timidly.
“Very…” Sirius continued with a devilish grin. You tried to hide behind your hands but he held-fast. “Don’t get shy on us now, gorgeous. How do we make you feel?”
“Cherished.” You whispered, and you watched as the mirth left his face, leaving behind only fondness.
“Oh, thank merlin.” James breathed. “I thought I’d have to up my flirting; and I don’t know if you guys know this, but I already live at 100% love always.”
“We know.” You, Sirius, and Remus answered in unison.
“Okay, Jamie. Scoot.” Sirius said as he stood. He hardly waited for James to make room before he’d picked you up and flipped you two, so he was now sitting in your spot, and you were in his lap. “My turn.” He muttered as he put his face in the crook of your neck like James had before. James didn’t seem to mind the intrusion much; his arm thrown across Sirius’ shoulders and fingers rubbing at the baby hairs on your neck.
“Y/N?” Remus asked, and your toes curled in anxiety at how serious he looked.
“Yes?”
“May I kiss you?” He asked, keeping his honey gaze locked on yours.
You felt a grin overtake your face as you nodded emphatically. His smile matched yours as he leaned forward resting his hand on your knee and pressed his lips gently to yours. You felt so incredibly complete – Sirius’ arms wrapped securely around you, James gently massaging your neck and shoulders, and Remus’ lips on yours.
Both you and Remus seemed reluctant to separate, but you did. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before he leaned back into his seat on the coffee table.
“Does this mean we get to do that all of the time now?!” James asked excitedly, causing the three of you to chuckle. You didn’t much mind the sound of that.
“There was no competition.” Sirius said quietly from his place in your neck. You turned your head which forced him from your neck as you looked at him inquisitively.
“There was never any competition. Between you and Emmeline.” He clarified, silver irises seeming to bore into your soul. “Between you and anyone.”
You felt heat rush to your cheeks and ducked your head.
“And even if there was,” James continued, “you’d have won by a landslide.”
Read the companion piece: The Loser Has To Fall
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#self insert#reader insert#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x reader#poly marauders x you#poly marauders x reader#marauders imagine#marauder fanfiction#marauders ficlet#baby blurb#marauders baby blurb#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#ellecdc fics
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Cough Syrup
written for @steddiemicrofic August
prompt: plug || wc: 437 || rating: M || cws: sick fic, reference to child neglect, references to sex
~~~
"Baby," Eddie sighs, "just plug your nose. I promise it'll go down easier." Steve keeps his mouth sealed and shakes his head as he leans further back into the pillows propping him up against the headboard. Eddie’s very carefully holding the spoon in front of Steve’s face, syrupy red liquid on the verge of overflowing onto their comforter.
“You say that every time,” Steve complains. He moves his head to the side as Eddie makes his move and misses. “But it smells, and it’s gross, and it felt thick and disgusting in my mouth yesterday, and I’ll be fine without it.”
Steve watches as another thread of Eddie’s patience unravels. After three days wasting away of fever and bone-wrenching aches, he’s surprised Eddie hasn’t just dropped him off on the hospital curb in a cardboard box, sign affixed to the side reading ‘Oversized baby for adoption. May need extra care. Fully vaccinated’.
“Steven James Harrington.” Full government name– with his correct middle name– means he’s in deep trouble. “You’ve inhaled nasty, probably radioactive, floating Upside-Down ash. You’ve accidentally swallowed demobat blood. You’ve drank shitty beer out of a communal bong, had your tongue down every girl’s throat in Hawkins, and inside my asshole–”
“Oh my god Eds, don’t say it like that.”
“–yet for some reason, you refuse a tiny bit of cough syrup to help you sleep.”
Steve rolls his eyes and sighs. In his attempts at being dramatic, he breaks into another coughing fit that has him reaching for the water glass on the nightstand next to all of his used tissues.
“I’ve been sick before and I’ve never needed drugs.”
“Never needed it,” Eddie leads, grabbing his hand, “or have your parents never offered it before?”
The question hits like a punch to the gut. He’d never thought about it that way. How his parents told him he’d get better soon, that he just needed some soup and crackers. If he focuses on being sick, it’ll just make him worse. How if he ate healthier he wouldn’t get sick in the first place.
“Stevie,” Eddie says gently, running his fingertips across Steve’s sweaty, overheated forehead. The fondness floods over him like a tidal wave, washing away all thoughts of his parents’ lack of love and care, something that's always so obvious from Eddie.
“The medicine will help you sleep. And if you sleep better,” Eddie says, and Steve can already see the trap forming, “then I’ll sleep better.”
Eddie smirks as Steve swallows around the spoon, nose plugged. They know Steve would do anything to help Eddie, even if it means helping himself too.
#steve harrington having absolutely no idea how to take care of himself#eddie guilting steve into doing it by making it seem like it's actually helping someone else#eddie will always take care of his baby#steve harrington's parent are shitty as per the usual#sick fic#steddie microfic#steddie ficlet#steddie#queeniewritesstories#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Steve as a late night radio DJ, with Robin as his producer (because my partner has made me watch so much Frasier lol). He's got the sexy voice and Eddie, frontman of successful metal band Corroded Coffin, still remembers him from Hawkins and, ugh.
But, well, his manager set up the interview and it would cause more of a stir to no-show than it would to turn up and bicker with some washed up former high school bully. It's a different city, a different decade; maybe King Steve won't even remember him.
So Eddie turns up, and he actually beats Steve there. To the point of the show starting and it's just him in the booth, chatting awkwardly with Robin to fill the air. It gets less awkward the more they talk, idly catching up on old small town bullshit and what it's like to go from isolated baby queers ("I thought I was totally alone!" "Really? You didn't clock the black bandana hanging out of my pocket for five of my six years in high school?" "Sorry old timer, I was still in middle school for part of that." "Oh fuck off, Ms. 'I went to Sarah Lawrence and all I got was this awesome girlfriend.'" "Sorry Eddie, we can't all be super late bloomers like you.") to Actually Successful And Functioning Adults. (She's kind enough not to mention his single but unfortunately well known brush with rehab, other than to congratulate him on his seven year chip.)
And then Steve bursts in, huffing and puffing and diving for the headphones and mic to apologize to both them and the audience for being late. He doesn't even try to offer an excuse until Robin asks, "Uh, Steve? Want to share with us why your arm's in a sling and one of your eyebrows looks like it got flambéd right off your face?"
Which turns into a very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson ("Oh damn, Henderson! I fell outta touch with him ages ago. How is that little shit?" "Married. He didn't end up converting to Mormonism, but they still have enough kids to make up half a basketball team." "Is that... a lot?" "Six, Munson. They have six kids." "Which is funny, because he made soooo much fun of Steve for wanting that many back in the day." "Yeah. Showed him." "Fuck, my condolences to his wife if they all inherited his big head. You gotta give me his number after this. Or—DUSTIN, if you're listening to your babysitter's show, come to my next concert and there'll be two backstage passes with your name on it! Or, well, that embarrassing nickname your radio girlfriend used to call you, since I think I've blurted out your full government name by now." "That girlfriend is actually his wife now." "No shit?! Wow, I can't believe one of my little lost sheepies has managed to keep the same girl for over a decade. Is she really hotter than Phoebe Cates?" "Oh, she is smokin." "Robin, don't make it weird." "Oh it's okay, she already knows. I told her.") ... A very put-upon but entertaining retelling of Dustin Henderson coming over to discuss plans for Ma Henderson's birthday, and bringing a cherries jubilee that Suzie had made so he could literally demonstrate the flambé presentation ("Listeners, I swear I did not know, when I asked Steve about his flambéd eyebrow, that it was a literal flambé accident. Eddie, can you confirm?" "I can confirm, Robin. We received no heads-up calls or messages from Steve before or during the show. It was serendipitous irony, 100% pure.") but poured waaaaay too much brandy on, and then Steve tripped in his mad dash for the fire extinguisher ("He was no help at all, just stopped dropped and rolled right there in the middle of the damn kitchen." "How are his eyebrows?" "Ugh, I have more of them than he does right now but at least his match. Don't worry everyone, he's fine. No nerds were injured in the course of this improv slapstick comedy routine that is my life. I swear to god, I need a girlfriend or a boyfriend or someone reasonable to hang out with besides all you weirdos." "Aw, you love us." "Yeah Stevie, what would you do without your loving nerd squad?" "Yeah, yeah... But don't try to leave yourself out of this Munson, as far as I'm concerned you're still the king of all nerds. And if you're reconnecting with Dustin, you're stuck with us too.") and had to stop by urgent care on the way to work.
Throughout all of this, Eddie is not twirling a lock of hair around one finger... but only because it's tied haphazardly back to keep it out of his face for the day. Steve is different from the guy he remembers strutting the halls of Hawkins High. Still all freckles and hair and charismatic grin, but he carries himself differently. More solidly built in his mid-thirties than his late teens, with a layer of softness that suits him. Calmer and settled, with the kind of confidence that comes with growing up. And the girlfriend or boyfriend thing? Holy shit. Holy shit. King Steve? Who knew? But, well, it explains why Steve and Robin are so close, Eddie guesses.
The Steve Harrington that Eddie had known back in the day hadn't exactly been the worst of the bullies, but he'd been friends with them, and they had spouted plenty of homophobic shit. And Steve had been looking right at him as he'd said it, like he's aware that Eddie is terminally single and maybe, just maybe, there was a flicker of a question in his eyes.
Eddie has been publicly out for a while now, and the thing is... Steve is definitely his type. So he leans into it a little, testing the waters. And Steve responds to it like a sunflower greeting the sunrise.
By the end of the show Robin is slapping post-its on the glass partition that read "Get his number dingus" and "Get a room" and Don't make that face at me, yes I do know that he can see these too and I don't care, GET IT or I will recruit Dusty-dun to my cause" and "To clarify, the cause is getting you laid. Eddie, take note, he's allergic to latex."
Permanent tag list (ask to be added, but since I have gotten an influx of new followers lately just know that I write a lot of weight gain kink so like... just be aware): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve
#this is not what i planned#but it got away from me a bit#robin is the best and worst wingwoman#steddie#platonic stobin#chubby steve harrington#bisexual steve harrington#later eddie finds out that steve has had a crush on him since dustin joined hellfire and started talking him up#his brain mets out his ears a little bit while he processes being steve's baby queer awakening and being in steve's mouth at the same time#scoops words#steddie ficlet#i guess#fraiser steddie au
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“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.
“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.
steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”
a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.
“eds. eds, can you hear me?”
“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”
“who’s crying?” steve asks.
“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”
more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.
“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”
“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”
“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.
“got it.”
steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.
steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.
eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.
“help me,” eddie mouths.
“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.
“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.
“give her here,” steve says.
eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.
“what’s her name?” steve asks.
“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.
“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”
she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.
“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”
“probably,” eddie mutters.
“i’m going to anyway.”
steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.
eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“
“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”
eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.
cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.
so he decides to do it scared.
the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.
“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”
cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”
cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.
“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”
cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.
“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“
cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.
it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.
steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.
“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.
eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”
“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.
“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.
“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.
“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.
they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.
“you're magical,” eddie whispers.
“please,” steve scoffs.
“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.
”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.
”do what?“
”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.
steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“
eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.
”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“
”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.
eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.
”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“
”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.
”maybe but it wasn't enough.“
”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“
eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“
steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“
”i'm getting it.“
they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.
”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.
“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.
“thank you again,” eddie whispers.
“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.
eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.
“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”
“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.
”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“
eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“
”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”
eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.
“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.
that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.
when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”
(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)
#emily writes#idk why i hc steve being great with babies but i just DO#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fics#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things ficlet
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Eddie and Steve were the last ones still in the RV when they got back to Eddie's trailer to face Vecna. Eddie decided to be a little shit. He puckered his lips at Steve.
"Need a little kiss for good luck, Harrington?" Eddie asked, closing his eyes.
Steve shrugged. He cupped the back of Eddie's neck and kissed him. Eddie's eyes snapped open before they fluttered close, and he wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing his lips against Steve’s. Steve slipped his tongue in, gripping Eddie's hips, and drew him closer. Eddie curled his fingers into his hair and moaned against his mouth. Steve broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
"I'm not a girl," Eddie blurted.
"Yeah, I hope so or otherwise, I'm going to have to ask what's growing in your pants," Steve said, feeling Eddie's hard on pressed against him.
"Weed," Eddie blurted out again, and Steve laughed, giving him a quick kiss. "I didn't know that you liked guys."
"I like both," he replied.
"Yeah, both. Both is good," Eddie whispered and kissed Steve.
And that's how Eddie Munson figured out he also liked guys.
#stranger things#eddie munson#joseph quinn#stranger things s4#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steve harrington#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie ficlet#a baby ficlet if you will#steddie first kiss#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#bisexual appreciation
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"What. The. Fuck."
Over years of living in a trailer park, Eddie has seen his fair share of weird shit. But this right here? This surpasses everything.
Wayne is sitting on the couch in the living room, with an actual baby in his lap and a completely deadpan expression on his face like this is something that happens every day.
"Hey, Ed. Meet Sasha Munson."
"Sasha Munson?" Eddie repeats, hoping that saying the name out loud will make this whole thing less surreal. It doesn't, so he automatically switches right into disbelieving panic mode instead. "Sasha Munson?! What the fuck? She isn't mine, I promise, it's literally impossible, someone must've - Wait, hold on - Is she yours? Aren't you like fifty years too old to knock someone up? What the fuck did you do? Who's the mother? What were you thinking, man, we can't take care of a -"
"Eddie, sit down."
"No, I'm not sitting down, this is ridiculous, what the fucking fuck, we can't -"
"She ain't mine and she ain't yours."
"What the-" It takes a few seconds before Wayne's words sink in. Then, Eddie freezes mid-sentence, giving his brain a second or two to catch up to what Wayne just said.
"Wait, what?" he asks.
He gives the sleeping baby a distrustful look. It's small - too small to be a human, if you asks Eddie. It scares him a little bit.
"Then whose is she?"
"I told ya to sit down, Ed."
And Wayne's voice is so strict and serious that Eddie can only obey.
"Your dad was here earlier."
Those few words are enough to tell Eddie exactly what happened. He immediately feels sick to his stomach. He wants to cover his ears, or walk out of the trailer and never come back. But instead, he keeps sitting, frozen in his chair, and listens to what Wayne tells him.
"Sasha is his daughter. He had this girlfriend, Melody, 'bout a year ago. She's much younger than him, is all I know 'bout her. I think they were kinda serious at the time. But Clyde went and messed it up, of course. Cheated on her. She dumped him. Then showed up again a few weeks later all sobered up and told him she was pregnant. Far as I know, things went okay for a while after that. But she caved right after she gave birth. It took a toll on her, Clyde said. So she needed the drugs again. He left her; he didn't see a way to help her and he was worried 'bout Sasha's safety. So he took Sasha with him and brought her to me. Said he couldn't take care of a baby and that was that."
It is a story eerily similar to what Wayne told Eddie about his own early years, whenever he'd ask him questions about his parents.
Eddie looks at the tiny human in Wayne's arms. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is just slightly agape. She's wrapped in a blanket that has a soft shade of pink, with tiny elephants printed across it.
"He never learns, does he?" Eddie remarks with a sigh.
"He doesn't," Wayne affirms in a soft voice, shaking his head. "But you know what, if these are the consequences of his actions..." He first looks up at Eddie, then down at the baby in his lap again. "I can't even be too mad at him for it."
"Jesus Christ, what a mess."
"Don't think too badly of him, Ed," Wayne says. "He wanted to help them. Both of 'em. But he didn't know how. He did what he thought was gonna be best for Sasha. Just like he did with you. He ain't evil. Just a coward who makes bad decisions."
Eddie swallows thickly.
"We'll make it work," Wayne says with certainty in his voice. "It'll be tight, but we'll survive. We did it before, we can do it again."
Eddie nods.
"You wanna hold her?"
He shifts uneasily. She seems so fragile. He doesn't know a single thing about babies; he is his father's son, after all, not Wayne's, no matter how much he wishes he were.
"C'mon, Ed, she's your sister."
It's only now that Eddie notices how well it fits, Wayne with a baby in his arms. Like he was made to be a father. Like Sasha belongs there. There aren't any pictures of Eddie as a baby, as far as he knows, but he imagines it must've looked somewhat like this scene: the exact same couch, a different blanket, and a younger version of Wayne. One with less wrinkles and more hair; less worn-out by the sorrows Eddie has given him over the years. It's simple for Wayne, in a way it isn't for Eddie's father, and in a way that Eddie fears it won't be for him. To hold her gently and let her sleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat. To sit with her quietly and do nothing else. To give love and patience without expecting anything in return.
Eddie rises from his chair and sits down next to Wayne on the couch. He utters a shaky breath, trying not to show his nerves, and wipes his sweaty hands over his jeans before holding out his arms.
“Just like that,” says Wayne softly while he places Sasha in Eddie's arms.
She's warm and has that specific newborn baby scent clinging around her. She's heavier than Eddie expected. She stirs a little bit and makes a tiny sound, but then she continues her peaceful sleep. He studies her: her closed eyes, her tiny nose, the way her head rolls around helplessly if he doesn't support her steadily enough; the hand that's hanging out of the blanket, with minuscule but fully developed fingers that grab around nothing. He listens to the steady sound of her breathing and imagines the tiny lungs inside her body working on pure instinct to keep her alive. His sister.
He looks up and finds Wayne staring at the two of them with tears in his eyes. He only catches Eddie's gaze for a fraction of a second, then he looks away, to the window on his right side.
“You're wrong, you know,” Eddie says.
Wayne turns his head back to him.
“Bout what?”
“She isn't his. Neither am I.” He looks up from the girl in his hands to meet Wayne's eyes. “We're both yours. He didn't do jackshit for us, just dropped us here with you and ran away. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Wayne, and that makes me yours way more than his. And Sasha? We're both gonna be here for her, every step of the way. We're gonna change her diapers and feed her milk - I don't really know anything else about babies, but we're gonna do all of that, together. We're gonna see her grow up and become a person. She's ours.”
Wayne produces a noise that sounds somewhat like a choked-off sob. He puts an arm around Eddie and drags him closer towards him. He doesn't say anything, but Eddie didn't expect him to. He understands.
#wayne munson was in dire need of an accidental baby acquisition trope okay#i said so#i know we all love steve accidentally becoming a parent to a baby half sibling but#consider this please#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#eddie munson#wayne munson#stranger things#fruity ficlet
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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
—
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
#ignoring the other characters rn lmao#i wrote it in a day. Sue me#something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand#cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!!#and steve being like i know eddie… i know#I Knew It And I Did It Anyways#steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it#[street fighter voice] FIGHT!#uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ruby writes steddie#steve x eddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie hurt/comfort
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steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.
so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.
he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"
he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"
"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.
by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.
steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.
eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.
"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.
it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.
until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.
"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.
keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."
#steve plays the song at their wedding AND sings the eddie rendition into his ear#eddie cries like a baby#stranger things#prompt#steve harrington#imagine#steddie#stranger things prompt#eddie munson#steddie prompt#steve and eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#steddie hc#steddie fluff
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You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.
Clumsy in Love part 4
Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.
Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.
He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.
How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?
He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.
Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.
How do you feel right now?
What do you see?
Where would you be right now?
Hey angel what about me?
Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.
“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.
You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.
Guilt eats him alive.
His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.
Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.
Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.
It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?
He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.
Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.
He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.
Fuck. Fuck, man.
He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.
Do your demons, do they ever let you go?
When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside
Is it someone that you know?
You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time
We're a lie, you and I.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.
“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.
Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.
Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.
“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”
I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.
Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.
———
It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.
He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.
All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.
“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.
“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”
Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.
Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.
“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”
Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.
“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.
Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.
“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”
Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?
“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.
“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.
That I had you.
So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”
Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.
Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.
“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”
“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”
“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”
He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.
“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.
I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”
Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.
“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”
This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.
“Are you still mad?”
Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,
Sees a life with them,
It’s own kind of precious.
And he laughs.
“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.
“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”
Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”
“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.
And then we’ll figure this out together.”
Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!
#so yeah they got some shit to work through but they’re all in baby!#the number of times I started writing it in on pov and then delete it for another pov and then again#but Eddie hadn’t had a turn to speak his truth so I think this was the right choice#a lot of dialogue in this one with is my Achilles heel 💀#might be another part depending how yall feel#or a short one shot of adiel finding happiness so so many of you felt for him#steddie#bee speaks#steddie headcanon#steddie prompt#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie drabble#clumsy in love
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this is so hopper giving his speech at the steddie wedding. making endless dad jokes and embarrassing the hell out of both of them. i’m just imaging him saying something like:
hopper: you never think your future son-in-law is going to turn out to be the same kid you arrested upwards of twenty times when he was in high school but here i am to tell the tale—
eddie: i was also wanted for murder
hopper: don’t bring that up here please. for the love of god. you have no idea how much paper work it took for me to get your name cleared.
steve: i’m pretty sure he was arrested at least thirty times
hopper: like i said folks, you don’t get to choose family and sometimes family is your adopted gay son and his metalhead husband who spent a solid three years living on your couch—
steve: well at least now when i bail him out of jail it’ll be as my husband. i can even sign the paperwork as “mr. steve munson”
eddie: aw babe that’s so sweet
hopper: don’t push it you two
#hopper is father to all stray gays#especially metalhead/baby girl dinguses#steddie#steddie wedding#steve harrington#eddie munson#fruity four#steve x eddie#stranger things#steddie brainrot#eddie x steve#jim hopper#hopper headcanon#steddie headcanon#steddie au#steddie ficlet#steddie blurb#steddie fic#steve/eddie#eddie/steve
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baby, you're a haunted house |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|
prompt: eddie is horrified to find out you don't decorate for halloween, and is determined to fix that. based off this ask request sent in by @harmonib for the spooky stories series :) thank you!!
contains: mentions of shitty parents/ shitty childhood. nothing extremely graphic but touched upon. really the rest is sweet sweet fluff. alludes to smut bc it's them, but nothing graphic. for timeline purposes, set after the engagement.
"That's it?"
Eddie's brow lifted so high that the silver hoop piercing disappeared under his curly bangs.
"Yep." You gave a short nod, hands resting on your hips, looking down at the large plastic bowl, covered in an array of Peanuts characters all in various costumes.
"That's- Baby, are you serious?" Eddie's eyes widened, lips pulling in a look of shock, maybe horror.
You frowned, looking down at the bowl resting on top of the counter. You thought it was cute, you thought Eddie would find it adorable too.
"Yeah, I mean, I know it looks small but I don't get a lot of trick-or-treaters, honestly-"
"-Probably because they think no one's here." Eddie scoffed before he could help it, grimacing at the frown you gave him. "Sorry, but... Sweetheart, this is it? This is all you have? All your Halloween decorations?"
You wrapped your arms around yourself, scowl only deepening on your features making Eddie cringe. "So what? It's a candy bowl. That's all kids care about anyways." You muttered, eyes darting from his gaze back to the bowl.
"But what about you?" Eddie twirled the bowl around, examining the wrap around design on the lip. "You don't like to decorate for yourself?"
"No, not really." Your chin ducked down, toying with the edge of the cream fur trimmed sweater you'd bought yesterday. You had been so excited to go shopping for fall, at the first dip in temperatures. Eddie had promised you he'd take you somewhere with real seasons, back home to Indiana where the leaves actually changed.
"What?" Eddie gawked, lips curling in a soft smile, hoping it would ease you out of your own defenses. He'd grown used to coaxing you out of yourself when you got like this, guarded and snippy when you felt challenged in any way.
"That's shocking. I thought you'd be like, the biggest decorating fan. give Martha Stewart a run for her money." Your lips twitched in a smile you tried to hide, eyes finally meeting his.
"I mean, I would like to. I just... I don't know. I've never really decorated before." You admitted, twirling the puffs of fur at the end of the zipper. "My parents didn't ever really decorate so I guess I never got in the habit."
Eddie's eyes widened, blinking in shock. "Ever? They never decorated ever? Not even for Christmas or-or Valentine's Day or something?"
Your face twisted, tight the way it always did when you were talking about something painfully uncomfortable- when you talked about your childhood. "No. Well, we did a few times when I was younger for Christmas and my Dad's parents were still alive. They'd come over and spend Christmas, but my Mom would just hire one of those staging companies to come a few days before Christmas and bring decorations and make it look nice."
"You didn't even have a tree?" Eddie gaped. "Even I had a Christmas tree."
You rolled your eyes, lips pursing in annoyance. "Yeah, congrats, Ed. I had shittier parents than you, I guess." Your tone clipped, dripping in surly sarcasm.
Eddie sucked in a breath, biting his tongue to keep any sharp retorts back. It was still an adjustment, even now that you were engaged, to keep his retorts soft when they needed to be- to be soft with you.
"I didn't-" Eddie's breath huffed, a strangling sigh that kept in the rest of his words. "Go put your shoes on."
"Why?" Nose scrunched in confusion, still lingering with hints of an attitude Eddie was hoping wasn't going to be a problem.
"Because," He grinned, dimples creasing softly into his cheeks. "We're gonna go shopping."
Your eyes lit up, perking at your favorite activity- or so Eddie said since you were always shopping for something. "Shopping?" It was your turn to grin. "For what?"
"Decorations." Eddie nodded firmly, patting his pockets for his wallet, chains jingling on his jeans. "We need some for our house."
"Don't you have some we could use?" Your voice was softer than before, shoulders a little deflated.
"Yeah, but those aren't ours, those are mine." Eddie shook his head. "We need some for both of us. That we both like. So when we're old as shit and putting 'em out, we still like them." He grinned, pinching your cheek gently, heart skipping at the giggle you gave him.
"C'mon, it'll be fun, babe, I promise. You'll like it. Just like when we decorated this house, but better because this isn't boring stuff. It's actually fun." Eddie grinned, motioning towards the painting behind him- a real Van Gogh given to you as a wedding gift, bought off your registry, of the infamous 'Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette'.
"We'll go to that one store you like. The Pierce-"
"-Pier One-"
"-Right. That one. We'll start there, and we can just look everywhere. As long as you want." Eddie's hand slid down the soft cashmere of your sweater, giving your forearms a gentle squeeze that had your skin tingling with excitement.
"As long as I want, hm?" You hummed, brow quipping playfully. "That's a risk, Munson. You're sure you're committing to that?"
"Always committing to you, Munson." Eddie's lips curled. "You know that. As long as you want, wherever you want. We'll hop on a flight to New York if you want to. They might have better stuff, actually. More fall than the places here."
"Hm, that's pretty tempting." Your lips twisted in thought. "I do love New York."
"I know you do." Eddie grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar sparkle of wild that had your knees shaking. "Fuck it, let's go to New York. Go pack."
"Eddie," You gawked lightly, a breathy giggle slipping out with his name. "I- We can't go to New York."
"Why?" Eddie frowned. "I don't have anything to do. Do you?"
"No, but-but I haven't told Jacques. The jet won't be ready-"
"-LAX is still a thing, baby." Eddie teased lightly. "We'll just take the plane down there. Call Jacques and get the jet set up for us to take back. That's when we'll need it, anyways, for all the Halloween stuff we're gonna buy." Eddie's grin only widened, eyes getting more and more wild with the excitement of the trip.
"Go pack. I'll call Nelson, tell him to get us a hotel room at The Plaza- You want The Plaza, right?" Eddie pointed at you, walking towards the phone on the wall in the newly renovated kitchen.
You hesitated, tummy flipping with excitement and rushes of adoration, nodding gently. "I can get Jacques to call instead. He knows the manager there."
"Yeah, you know what, that's probably a good idea." Eddie placed the phone back on the hook. "Last time we stayed there, we kinda fucked the place up. Don't know if they'll let us back. Good call, baby. You call Jacques, and I'll start packing."
Eddie walked past you, ringed hand skittering across your waist, stopping to pull you into him, lips smashed to your in a sweetly steamy kiss.
He pulled back with a wet smack of his lips, grinning wide and bright back at you. "This is gonna be so fun. I can't fuckin' wait."
You giggled in response, brain fuzzy and gooey with a warmth you'd never felt before, not with anyone other than Eddie. Love blinded, completely and utterly by him. Willing to follow him anywhere, and do anything with him, which is why you dialed the phone, feeling like you could float on air as you leaned against the counter, chatting with your family's personal assistant about the spontaneous plans. Jacques' snarly tone of disapproval when you mentioned Eddie couldn't even soil your mood, too stricken with excited affection to be anything other than giddy.
"Oh, what about this one?" Eddie lifted the metal Jack-O-Lantern, spinning it by the painted stem towards you. "This looks like you."
Nearly two hours after landing, you and Eddie hadn't wasted any time. Throwing your bags in the presidential suite before stepping into the chauffeured car, hauling to 5th Avenue.
"I do like that." Your lips curled, running a hand over the smooth surface. "That's really cute. Do they have two?"
"Yeah, they've got a bunch. Look this one has a different face." Eddie beamed with pride, grabbing the other pumpkin, a little taller than the others, making a more shocked face rather than smiling like the other. "Do you want the exact same one?"
"No, I like the different ones. I think that would be pretty by the mantle. On the ledge?" You looked at him, and though you didn't say it, he knew you were looking for approval. Still a little apprehensive at the newness of decorating, unsure that you were doing it right, and just needing that extra push of confidence that Eddie always gave you.
"That would look amazing, yeah." Eddie grinned, curls bobbing as he nodded. He handed the two back to the eager sales person behind him, nodding with a muttered thanks as she took it to the front.
"What about some ghosts?" Eddie reached into the shelf, turning a stuffed ghost holding a stack of pumpkins around to show you. "That looks pretty cool."
"Can you... Do you think it'll match the other?" You bit your lip, fingers twirling the small pumpkin coasters against your palm nervously.
"Yeah, sweetheart, it's all Halloween." Eddie grinned softly, a hand on your hip, giving you a sweet, reassuring squeeze. "That's the great part about it, it's all on theme because it's all Halloween. Can't mess it up."
You relaxed under his touch, giving a quick nod. "I do like that." Your head tilted lightly, reaching out to feel the felt ghost. "It's cute."
Eddie nodded with a wide smile, picking it up and curling it against the leather of his jacket. "What about witches hats? Feel like you'd really like the witchy stuff."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You frowned playfully up at him, swallowing back a smile.
His hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing the skin that peeked out gently. "I dunno, you seem like a witchy woman, I guess." Eddie grinned playfully, giving a small shrug at your exaggerated gasp. "Seems like you'd really like that kinda stuff."
"Are you calling me a witch?" You pressed your lips together, slipping down the aisles towards the brooms and pointed hats.
"Nah, you're definitely more of a vampire vibe. Like Camille from Undying Love." Eddie snorted lightly.
"Why? Because I suck the life out of you?" You rolled your eyes, manicured nails raking over a pointed hat covered in stitched beads that made a sparkling spiderweb.
"Well, I mean, you're pretty good at sucking. Give amazing head, baby." Eddie snickered, his own cackles growing watching you squirm, eyes darting around to make sure no one heard.
"You're gross." You rolled your eyes, lips curling in a smug grin you couldn't fight back.
"Yeah, I think you like it." Eddie's hand dipped lower, squeezing your left ass cheek hard enough to have you squealing lightly, ducking down and nipping at the tip of your ear.
"Put it on." He nodded towards the hat your hand was still lingering on. "Wanna see you in it."
You scoffed lightly, picking up the witches hat. "Thought I was more of a vampire type."
"Yeah, I think you are, but I can't know for certain." Eddie shrugged, stepping back. "Lemme see you in it, then I'll make up my mind."
You snorted lightly, situating the witches hat on your head, spinning it so the long sheer fabric was in the back. You threw your hands out gently, pivoting from side to side sillily so Eddie could see, exaggeratedly modeling for him.
The loud wolf whistle he let out took you by surprise, had you jumping and snatching the hat off with a glare. "Ed-"
"-No, baby, that's definitely a keeper." Eddie laughed, uncaring about the others who turned towards the two of you. "I was wrong, you're definitely more of a witch. That looks so good on you."
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "You're relentless."
"And you're hot." Eddie grinned, tossing you a wink that had you bristling with excitement, turning and hoping he didn't see how flustered it made you.
"We'll be taking this, and definitely this too." Eddie turned to the sales associate, passing off the finds.
"Why are you getting the hat?" You lifted a brow, hand running down the bark of a 'witch broom' that hung on the rack. "Are you going to wear it?"
"Shit, I will if you want me to." Eddie flirted, smoothly sliding his hand back over your waist. "Was thinking you could wear it later tonight. Stop at Vivienne Westwood and pick you out something black and sexy. Really put you into costume."
"Is that right?" Your tongue ran over the inside of your cheek, trying to still yourself, hide your fluster.
"Yeah, c'mon, you know how I love when you dress up for me." Eddie's breath was hot on the shell of your ear, leaving you shuddering.
"Thought we were here for Halloween decorations?" Your voice was tight, far squeakier than what you were hoping.
"We're here for that too, but that doesn't mean we can't have some fun." He teased, fingers tickling up your waist. "Dressing up in a costume is apart of Halloween, anyways."
You hummed, grabbing at the ceramic bottles of potions, each etched with a different deadly name. "I like those, get those." Eddie nodded, grabbing one of each.
"I like the broom too." You tilted your head over to the one hanging. "And the cauldron. It says it turns on and makes sound."
"See?" Eddie smiled, chin hooking over your shoulder. "Knew you'd like the witchy stuff."
You giggled, turning so your noses were nearly touching. It was nice to be open and affectionate, not have to worry about sneaking around any more or saving the love for behind closed doors.
"It's more fun than the other stuff. Don't you think?" Your eyes batted sweetly at him. Eddie didn't know how to tell you that he'd agree with anything you said in that moment. Instead, he leaned forward, lips pressing against yours, a short but sweet kiss that had you both reeling.
"I love you." Eddie muttered, eyes rounded with affection, nearly drunk off his affection.
"I love you." You giggled, pressing your cheek to his. "This is a lot of fun. I can... I can see why you like it so much."
"Yeah, told you. This isn't even the best part. The best part is when you get to put it all up, ya know? Putting stuff where you want and makin' it all spooky and weird and Halloweeny." Eddie gushed with excitement.
"Yeah." Your tone dropped, looking down at the cauldron in your hand. "Guess I really missed out, huh?"
Eddie frowned, pulling back to look at you, his hand sliding over your jaw, cupping your cheek softly, pulling your gaze up to his. "Hey, c'mon, it's alright." He muttered, voice low in case others could hear.
He leaned forward, tip of his nose to yours, heart aching at the way your lip jutted lightly in a sad pout. "You're never gonna miss out again, alright? I promise you. I'll make sure you never miss out, and when we have our own kids, they won't miss out. Promise."
You moved into his hold, lips beginning to curl in a soft smile. "Thank you." Your voice barely a whisper, taking a slow, steadying breath in.
"I mean it." Eddie nodded fiercely. "You're locked in for life with me, baby, and I swear we'll decorate every single fuckin' holiday until we're a hundred years old."
You held his gaze, locking eyes in such a passionately fierce yet soft way, like you two were the only ones in the store- on the planet, maybe. It felt like that, it always did when you were with Eddie.
"Um," The timid voice of the sales associate brought you both back to reality. "I-I'm sorry, are you still finding everything ok?" She hesitated.
You pulled away, chin ducking with light embarrassment, but Eddie didn't seem bothered. "Yeah, we're gonna take these too." He nodded, passing her the ceramic figures and broom. "Oh, and this." He took the cauldron from you, passing it to her with a muttering of thanks.
"Let's keep looking. I think they said the outside stuff was over here." Eddie's hand found your back, pointing towards the next aisle.
"Outside? I thought you said you had your own outside stuff." You looked at him.
"I do, but I don't think it's really... you." Eddie looked at you with a small smile. "It's kinda scary shit. Not sure that's what you want."
"Do kids like it?"
"I don't know, actually. Never really had trick-or-treaters. I always have a party on Halloween, you remember." Eddie nodded lightly. You did remember, the infamous Halloween rager he had just a year ago. How you'd shown up in a skimpy little costume, resting on the arm of his sworn rival just to piss Eddie off. It had worked, of course, much to your discomfort. Your tummy flipped with heat, hairs raising on your spine at the memory.
"That's right. Are you doing that again this year?" You asked, passing by the plastic graveyard signs.
"I can, if you want." Eddie shrugged. "Up to you."
"Maybe have it start after trick-or-treating is done." Your eyes lingered over the costumes in the corner, a tiny bat onesie that had your heart swelling. "I want to pass out candy this year."
"Done." Eddie nodded. "Usually doesn't start until ten or eleven anyways. Gives us time to change. Shit, that reminds me, we gotta figure out a costume."
"I thought I already had a costume." You nodded towards the front where the witches hat was waiting behind the counter with the rest of your things. "Isn't that why we're going to Vivienne Westwood after this?"
"Nah, that's just for me, baby." Eddie grinned, pulling you close to him, pressing a kiss to your head. "That's your costume for me. We need something for the party. Somethin' cool and weird. Gotta be a good one, ya know? Our first Halloween together, together."
You giggled, shaking your head lightly. "I'm sure you'll come up with something good. You always do."
"Needs to be perfect." Eddie nodded, picking up a plastic headstone with Frankenstein's Bride etched on the front. "For my bride." He droned dramatically, leaving you laughing.
"Oh shit, wait, that's actually a good idea." Eddie's eyes lit up. "Bride of Frankenstein and Frankenstein- oh shit!" Eddie exclaimed, a little too loudly, other patrons glaring at him with cutting eyes.
"I gotta call Ricardo, see if his costume guy can make somethin' happen. Oh man, this is gonna be so good, babe. Gonna be the best fuckin' Halloween ever." Eddie babbled, excited and bubbly with ideas.
Your heart swelled, squeezing his hand in yours as you pulled him down the aisles, letting him ramble about his ideas, decorations, Halloween traditions- everything. You listened, just as excited as he was. You finally would get to have traditions of your own, with a man you loved, in your own home that you decorated with items you both picked out. No longer would the holidays feel meaningless and boring. You finally had what you always wanted, finally found with Eddie.
#oneforthemunny#oneforthemunny spooky stories#rockstar!eddie munson#eddie munson au#eddie munson#rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie stranger things#eddie my love <3#eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader#rockstar!eddie munson x you#rockstar!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#stranger things 4#stranger things#eddie munson fic#fall ficlets#eddie munson fanfic#oneforthemunny blurbs#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson stranger things
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pls tell me that ur going to do smth with remus inspired by the werewolf post you reblogged 🙏 p.s I love your work!!!
hahaha I think you're referring to this post, so here's a small little baby blurb for ya <3
Remus Lupin x fem!reader who doesn't want her to know too much about Moony [435 words]
CW: non-canon compliant description of werewolf behaviour, swearing [duh]
“Come on, Moons! Time to go!” James shouted as he burst through the portrait hole, officially announcing the end of your quiet cuddle on the three seater sofa with Remus.
Remus made a defiant sort of grumble as he sank impossibly further into the cushions, essentially dragging you down with him.
“Awe don’t do that.” Sirius said salaciously, throwing a wink in your direction. “Believe me, I’d rather be up here snuggling with Y/N too, but we’ve got plans for the night.” He explained, motioning with his head towards the sky no one could see through the castle ceilings.
“Sod off.” Remus muttered; his arms circling you tighter at the insinuation you’d be snuggled up against any other bloke should he vacate the common room.
James let out a theatrical groan, but his shit eating grin gave way to the fact that it was all for show. “That’s what we’re trying to do, Moons. So let's go! We’re sodding off.”
“Can you explain to me again why you have to go to the shrieking shack for this?” You asked slowly, rubbing the back of Remus’ hands that were locked around your middle in equal parts placation and encouragement to let go.
Remus never had a chance to respond before Peter piped up. “S’cause Moony’s not housebroken.”
“I am too housebroken.” Remus shot stubbornly, causing Sirius to snort.
“Sure, Moons. I bet that’s why the only thing left of the cushions from the old sofa in there are all the feathers strewn about.”
“There was something in the cushions!” He insisted.
“Right, and we totally found whatever it was.” James agreed sarcastically.
“It’s not only the furniture that’s not safe - he’s scratched the shit out of the walls and floors too.” Peter continued.
“Minnie would not be happy to find the Gryffindor common room in such a state.” Sirius added solemnly.
“Okay…” Remus relented slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not housebroken.”
The three Marauders stared at Remus with different levels of bemusement.
“Rem, Moons is so territorial that I’m pretty sure if Y/N joined us, you’d be lifting your leg to-”
“Okay that’s enough!” Remus spat quickly; lifting the entirety of your weight off his lap and placing you back onto the sofa. “Sorry, dove. I’ll see you in the morning.” He murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your head before turning and shoving Sirius towards the portrait hole.
“Don’t worry,” James insisted as he walked backwards in the direction of his friends. “We’ve been working on him with positive reinforcement, but it’s slow going; he’s really quite dumb as a wolf-”
“PRONGS!”
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#remus lupin#moony#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#incorrect werewolf ideologies#not canon compliant#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#fem!reader#remus lupin baby blurb#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin microfic#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin ficlet#ellecdc fics
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4. Garden
Kara waited as long as she could. Taking to the air, she lifted herself to cloud-height, ignoring the bite of the upper-atmospheric chill as the high winds snapped at her cape. Hovering in the air, she took a moment to unbind her senses, expanding her awareness to let in the cacophony of sounds she usually suppressed through years of focused willpower and concentration.
She rocked in the air, shocked by the sensitivity of her own ears. Jeremiah and then Eliza had taught her this, made the world in its vastness small enough that she could live in it.
Clark had taught her to reach out, to hear, as well as see and smell and taste and feel, beyond. Sol’s gentle kiss did more than expand her awareness and multiply her strength, it activated pathways in her brain itself, giving her a control over her senses that she could never match under a red star.
It took only moments to sift out the quiet sounds of Lena’s pulse and her gentle, hissing breaths as she fought back sobs.
Air folded around her as she shatters the sound barrier, flying high enough that the boom that followed her would be a mere puff to the ground. Another trick she picked up from Clark, using the earth’s rotation to speed her flight.
Kara touched down at a familiar but foreboding place: the Luthor estate.
All that had been the property of her family was hers now, a gift and a curse. Lena had talked about making it an orphanage or a long-term care hospital or a new children’s medical campus, but the building itself had held her back. What malevolent secrets had Lex left behind? Booby traps? Sentinel robots hiding in the walls? Caches of weapons or Lexosuits?
A Kryptonite bomb, to spit death at her for hate’s sake?
Kara hesitated, but Lena was here and upset. She went inside.
It was immediately obvious where Lex had reinforced walls and lined rooms with lead. Kara listened for Lena, finding that the trail of sound led her outside.
She had to use her x-ray vision.
Lena was kneeling in an hidden place, a walled off section of the formal gardens. Kara found the entrance cleverly disguised, a section of wall where one slipped through a gap and turned left then right and came out in a tiny, overgrown courtyard.
Kneeling, Lena was surrounded by pruning shears and garden implements, dressed to work outside. She looked so out of place it was almost a little silly to see, but there she was.
Kara could see that Lena had already been working on cleaning and clearing. She knelt before a small plumeria plant, resting in a well kept pot.
“Lex let it all die,” said Lena. “He knew it was here. He could have kept it for me, but he didn’t. I suppose I’m lucky that Lillian didn’t rip it up and install a septic tank.”
Kara walked over, standing next to her.
“My father built this. It’s a replica of my mother’s garden. We had a little walled garden next to the cottage where I lived with her before I came to live with the Luthors.”
Kara said nothing, instead brushing a lock of Lena’s now-curly hair back from her shoulder.
“He never showed it to me.”
“Why?”
“My parentage was his dirtiest secret. Lillian didn’t even tell me until she thought she could use it.”
“Do you think he loved her?”
“I have no idea. He loved me, I think. He loved Lex but in a different way. I don’t think he even liked Lillian.”
“You’ve never told me about him.”
“It wasn’t easy being his child. He drank too much, neglected the company, and drank more when things went badly for us. The family was actually in trouble until Lex turned it around. He started managing things when I was in grade school. By the end, he’d spend all day in his study and I’d spend half the night sitting with him while he talked and told me stories. Lillian hated him for it.”
“You miss him.”
“I miss them both. I miss Lex. I miss him so much. I mourn him every day.”
“I know,” said Kara.
“My mom died, my father died, my brother went insane.”
“Lena…”
“Is it me?”
“It’s not, you know it’s not.”
“Is it my witch blood? Am I cursed?”
Kara knelt beside her, pulling her cape across Lena’s shoulders to fight the autumn chill. Lena leaned into her.
“What if it is a curse? What if it gets our little one too?”
Kara put her hand on Lena’s belly, spreading her fingers. There was no bump yet. Kara listened intently, eagerly awaiting a moment she would never forget, when a second heartbeat joined Lena’s. It hadn’t come yet but it would.
“Nothing is going to get our baby,” said Kara. “Their moms are Supergirl and Lena Luthor. We can do anything.”
“It’s going to be a children’s hospital,” said Lena. “The house. A lot of the grounds are going to be torn out, but I’m keeping this garden. I’m going to give my mom a memorial. I think I might put one in for my dad, too.”
“I love you,” Kara murmured. “I love you so much.”
Lena leaned into her and Kara sat down to pull her in.
They sat for a long time, and listened to the wind that shook the leaves.
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#Supercorp married life#Lena worries a lot#Lena is a big softie#Kara loves Lena#Supercorp baby#Kara Daddy Danvers#In ever sense of the term#yeah Kara is the dad#deal with it#protective Kara Danvers#protectivecorp#complicated family legacies ahoy#Lena Luthor needs a hug#You can still love the good parts of bad people
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I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets
_(:3 」∠)_
I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here
☆彡
Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.
He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.
☆彡
Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.
She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.
He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.
Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.
Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.
☆彡
A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.
Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.
Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.
Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.
“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”
Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.
“Oh, dear.”
☆彡
The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.
The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.
He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.
Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.
Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.
Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.
☆彡
It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.
He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.
“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”
Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.
#to this day nobody knows how Cass got there#but Tim says she came with baby so they assume she hitched a ride with Talia somehow#notice how I /very discreetly/ made it so Jason knows Catherine isn’t his birth mom?#Bruce communicates with him when he’s older that if he ever wants to find his bio mom he will help him and they can do it together ❤️#No dead robins for me🧍🏼♂️#Sorry Duke but it’s because I love you that I’m allowing you to stay with your parents 🫶#IM SORRY DICK I WROTE YOUR PART BEFORE I HAD ANY REAL CREATIVITY AND NOW ITS ALL DRIED UP#I LOVE U BB BUT UR STUCK WITH TWO SUCKY PARAGRAPHS ✌️#also? I don’t even ship Brutalia. like I’m almost a hater. but they took me over here ig#if I was writing more of this just know that Clark would show up with Jon at some point#batfam#dcu#fanfiction#ficlet#batman#brutalia#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#cassandra cain#alfred pennyworth#shut up grandpa#dcu ficlet
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