#eddie come back the kids miss you
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#aew#eddie kingston#missing eddie kingston hours#😔#I hope he gets better soon#eddie come back the kids miss you#wrestlingedit#my edit
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Also Corrine I know you’re just trying to be like a normal kid or whatever and go to college but please come back soon I need another may/Bobby interaction Stat
#may in mayday telling the emts Bobby’s her dad 😭😭😭#may come home the kids (Bobby) misses you#also I want you to come back and still have kept in touch with Eddie and you’re casual besties#Kelly watches 911
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Another cutesy little steddie thing. all fluff. Post vecna. 1648 words.
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It’s not that Eddie was a wuss…
Ok maybe he was, but still this was a terrifying prospect… asking Steve Harrington out.
It didn’t help that he was getting advice from a 15 year old.
“Do you think he likes you back?” Dustin asked, tapping a pencil against his chin.
“I don’t know, Henderson,” Eddie ran his hands over his face. What was he doing? “You’re supposed to be helping me figure that out.”
Dustin tapped his chin again and looked at the ceiling.
In all honesty, Eddie would usually talk to Jeff about this stuff, but he had to be visiting his family in Ohio because of stupid Thanksgiving.
“Well, you guys hang out a lot, that’s gotta count for something.” Dustin pointed out.
“You hang out a lot with Sinclair and Wheeler. You wanna make out with them?” Dustin pulled a face. “That’s what I thought.”
“I am happily in a relationship, thanks.” Dustin pointed out.
He always had a reason to point it out.
“I know, and I would like to be as well, so if we could get back to the discussion at hand…”
“Ok, ok… Well, Steve hasn’t really been dating recently… right?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Maybe that means something?”
“I don’t know… He says he just hasn’t met the right person yet…”
“Well… he used ‘person,’ not ‘girl!’ That’s a good sign!” Dustin pointed his pencil at Eddie.
“Sure, but you’re missing a key point in that statement.” Eddie sighed. Dustin squinted at him. “He’s met me, Dustin.”
Dustin’s eyebrows shot up. “Fair point.”
Eddie dropped his face into his hands. Dustin started up again.
“Your idea that Steve might like you is a hypothesis and science dictates that the only way to conclude if a hypothesis is correct is to prove it. To run experiments.”
Eddie let out a belabored sigh.
“So, test it,” Dustin continued. “Ask Steve out.”
Eddie stared at Dustin, knowing he was right in his own little, nerd way.
“Yeah… Ok, alright, yeah, I’ll do it.”
\\\\\\\
The next day was movie night at Steve’s with the whole crew. The kids, Nancy, and Robin were all in the living room putting out snacks and arguing about where they would sit. Eddie figured now was as good a time as any. He crossed over to the kitchen, meandering over to Steve who was waiting for the popcorn in the microwave.
“Hey.” Eddie offered once he was a few feet away. Nailed it.
“Hey,” Steve looked over at him, “how’s physical therapy going? I’ve been meaning to call you, see if you needed any help.” Steve responded with a soft smile at Eddie, the kind that made all the nervous energy in him disappear. The microwave beeped and Steve pulled the popcorn out, hissing when he grabbed the hot part of the bag before dropping it in one of the big plastic bowls he had waiting.
Eddie grabbed another bag out of the box, unfolded it and handed it to Steve.
“Uh, good, good, I guess. I never really know if I’m doing the exercises right. The paper instructions are shit.”
Steve laughed at that, “Yeah, I’ve been there. I could come over some time, help you figure them out?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. That would be great… actually.” Eddie swallowed. “But, uh, before that happens, I, uh, I have to ask you something.” Eddie stumbled over the words before looking over his shoulder, making sure no one else would be witness to him getting shot down by Steve Harrington, even if he was in a house full of friends.
“Yeah?” Steve turned toward Eddie, leaned his hip against the counter, the picture of nonchalance.
“Yeah,” Eddie cleared his throat, “Would you, uh, ever consider, maybe… shit. Start over.” Eddie clamped his jaw in a grimace before starting again. He couldn’t look at Steve yet. If he saw any bit of apprehension or negative emotion, he would never actually get the full question out. “Would you like to go out… on a date… with me?”
Eddie finally looked at Steve instead of the cabinet behind his head. His initial look gave him nothing. Steve looked the same, if not a little more still, a little more focused. But he wasn’t saying anything. The nervous energy was back with a vengeance and Eddie was starting to feel twitchy the longer Steve stared at him.
And then Lucas walked into the kitchen.
“Is this one ready?” he asked, pulling the bowl with the popcorn bag in it across the counter. The microwave behind Steve beeped. He was still staring at Eddie. Eddie was still staring at Steve.
“Uh-huh.” Steve answered.
“Should I get that one out?” Lucas asked.
“I’ll get it in a second,” Steve said, his eyes now roaming over Eddie’s face.
“I don’t mind.” Lucas offered.
“Dude.” Steve’s eyes finally left Eddie and he felt himself deflate a little bit, muscles twinging from where he had been clenching them. “I’ll get it. Can you give us a minute?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah? Sure?” Lucas replied, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading back towards the living room.
Steve’s eyes flicked back to Eddie and he felt suddenly compelled to talk. Like a tidal wave, his insecurities drowned him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. I’m not your type, I know. I—”
“Yes.”
“Don’t even know if…” Eddie stopped to process what Steve said. “Yes? Yes, I’m not your type or yes you… you want to…”
“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”
Eddie finally looked at Steve, really took him in instead of concentrating on not collapsing in on himself. Steve looked almost… shy? Nervous? There was the slightest blush on his neck, the smallest, guarded smile. He, Eddie now noticed, had been white knuckling his own arm ever since Eddie asked.
Interesting.
Eddie relaxed a little. “Yeah?”
Steve’s smile grew bigger as he nodded. “Yeah.”
Eddie couldn’t help the smile that took over his face. He did it. He asked Steve out. And Steve said yes! What’s more, Steve looked caught off guard in the best way possible. “Oh, just you wait, Harrington. I’m gonna wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before.” Eddie grinned.
“The popcorn’s getting cold! What’s taking you guys so long!” Dustin yelled from the living room.
Steve turned to the microwave to get the popcorn and Eddie reveled in Steve’s smile. The way it looked like he was restraining it, the way Steve looked lighter than he had in weeks.
They walked back to the living room together, and Eddie kicked Mike off the couch so he could sit next to Steve. Halfway through the movie, Steve slipped his hand into Eddie’s. On impulse, he pulled Steve’s hand up to kiss the back of it, before shifting closer and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder. When he felt the press of Steve’s head on top of his he thought maybe he was dead. Maybe the bats had finished him off and he was in heaven.
He would have to thank Dustin for pushing him to ask Steve. He would never hear the end of it.
When the movie ended and everyone was leaving, Eddie hung around the living room so he would be the last to go. He refolded the blankets, rewound the tape and put it back in its box, and picked up the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers. He was in the kitchen throwing things out, thinking maybe he had enough time to run to the bathroom, when Steve reappeared.
“Everyone head out?” Eddie asked as Steve approached him.
“Mhmm.” He replied before stepping around the kitchen island and stopping in front of Eddie. “Coast is clear.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie grinned, stepping closer.
“Mmm,” Steve hummed before leaning in, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.
Eddie had kissed quite a few people before, boys and girls alike, but this kiss with Steve. It was different. It filled him up, distracted him from everything else so that when his back hit the counter it almost startled him.
“Sorry.” Steve hummed, pulling away.
“Don’t be.” Eddie managed to get out before pulling Steve back in. He was definitely in heaven. Except in heaven, he wouldn’t be almost peeing his pants. Curse that whole bottle of coke.
Eddie pulled back with a soft, ‘shit.’
“You okay?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, fantastic, great. Except I think I’m about to pee my pants. Don’t go anywhere, Big Boy.” Eddie said before practically running to the bathroom, Steve’s surprised laughter following him down the hall.
When he got back, Steve was washing the popcorn bowls and pizza plates from earlier in the night, sweater pushed up to his elbows, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes swinging with his movements. Eddie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.
“No one has ever asked me out.” Steve said after a few seconds.
“What?” Eddie let go in surprise, moving next to Steve so he could see his face. “Seriously?”
Steve nodded.
“The way girls talked about you I would have thought they would be lining up.” Eddie mused.
“No. I’m the guy, you know? I mean they definitely dropped hints, but none of them asked me.”
Eddie reveled in that for a second. He was the first person to ask Steve Harrington out.
“So, how does it feel being on the receiving end?” Eddie asked, nudging Steve.
“So good.” Steve smiled at him, the sincerity of his words bleeding out of him so much that Eddie had to dart forward and peck him on the cheek.
“Where do you want to go?” Eddie asked.
“You said you were gonna wine and dine me,” Steve replied, “I trust you.”
Those words sent a bolt of pure reassurance through Eddie. “Oh, Steve Harrington,” he half sing-songed, half chuckled, “I’m gonna date you so hard.”
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Of course we know that Eddie is the big fantasy nerd, with his love of D&D, he was probably an avid reader of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and almost definitely made Wayne sit through numerous re-watches of The Wizard of Oz as a kid.
But when he gets together with Steve he realises that Steve 'the hair' Harrington isn't quite the meat-head jock that he remembers him to be in high school.
Eddie was flicking through the channels looking for something for them to watch when Steve comes in holding a bowl of popcorn in his hands as he scoots up close to Eddie.
"Hey, go back a minute, I think I saw something good." Steve says, tapping Eddie on the arm.
Eddie flicks back the channel and it lands on a re-run episode of the original series of Star Trek.
"Man, I used to be obsessed with this show as a kid." Steve says, throwing back a handful of popcorn. "Never missed an episode."
"Wait, you wanna watch Star Trek?" Eddie asked, raising his eyebrows at Steve's admission. His boyfriend was a secret geek.
"Yeah it's a good show. I think I even dressed up as Captain Kirk for Halloween one year. " scratch that Steve Harrington was a full on nerd.
"Sure, we can watch this." Eddie smirks, settling back against Steve.
"Hey, Eddie, did you ever watch that show about the alien in the time-travelling police box?"
It appears that the nerd-levels ran deep with Steve.
Eddie shakes his head at his boyfriend.
"Always watched that one too, actually, I still do." Steve smiles. "My grandma knitted me the long multicoloured scarf for Christmas when I was younger."
"Stevie, why didn't you tell me you were such a science fiction nerd?"
"You never asked."
Eddie might have been the fantasy lover between the two of them, but when it came down to it, Steve was most definitely the sci-fi geek.
#idk I just love the idea of Steve being a big sci-fi and space nerd#I know doctor who wasn't super popular in the us during the 60s/70s/80s but there were a few people who liked it..#..and I think Steve would have been an avid watcher of it#I also think it's funny that Eddie assumes Steve is a sports jock but Steve's just into everything sci-fi#steddie
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Eddie chronically leaves his rings at Steve’s place to the point that Steve checks the bathroom and kitchen sink every time after he leaves, only to find one of them there every time.
Not that Steve is entirely complaining since this means he gets to call him and Eddie gets to stop by on his own to pick them up.
But when they’re at the Wheeler’s place, and Eddie says he’s going to the bathroom, Steve says, “Be careful not to leave one of your rings behind,” with a wink that has the kids exchanging confused looks. But Steve doesn’t notice because he’s too distracted by the light blush coloring Eddie’s cheeks.
“Why would Eddie leave one of his rings behind?” Dustin asks Steve when Eddie’s out of earshot.
Steve laughs. “He leaves one behind every time he washes his hands I swear. I don’t know how he hasn’t lost one at this point.” But his amusement is quick to die down when he realizes the kids are staring at him as if he’s absolutely insane. “What?”
They all glance at each other, and Steve is surprised when Mike is the first to pipe in, “He never leaves them anywhere. They’re like his prized possession. I’ve never even seen him take them off.”
Steve frowns and glances around at everyone, sensing that there’s definitely something he’s missing, so he’s quick to lie, “Well, I guess it was only once or twice that it happened. Maybe it was my fancy soap. Made things too… slippery.”
He gets a few eye rolls at the comment, but the group is quick to move on especially when Eddie comes back a few moments later with all his rings on his hands.
Steve gives him a quick smile, and Eddie is quick to return it, eyes lingering on him for a few seconds longer than necessary and the same blush from earlier returning.
It hits Steve very suddenly.
The rings are an excuse to come back.
And with this knowledge, Steve’s let’s his own gaze linger on Eddie longer than he usually allows, moving into his space more often than not, and carefully keeping track of time, waiting for the hang out to end.
When it finally comes to a halt, Steve is quick to say his goodbyes, hoping that Eddie will join and let the kids have their unnecessarily prolonged goodbyes in private. And luckily, Eddie is quick to move out of the basement, following after Steve in a way that’s supposed to look causal but is anything but casual now that Steve knows to look for the signs.
When he and Eddie silently go out the front door, Steve is quick to turn to him and hold out his hand. Eddie gives him a confused look but offers his hand which Steve takes and slides one of the rings off of.
Eddie stares at it for a moment, looking slightly frightened, as if he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
Steve is quick to soothe the fear as he pockets the ring and says, “Just so you’ll have an excuse to stop by later tonight.”
Eddie’s cheeks flush bright red and he runs a hand over his face. “Shit.”
Steve laughs, “So it has been on purpose?”
“No,” Eddie clearly lies, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face.
“And what if I told you I wanted it to be on purpose?” Steve asks.
Eddie freezes for a moment as if he’s waiting for Steve to tell him that he’s joking, but Steve sits in the silence, letting the question settle between them.
“Then,” Eddie starts, taking a small step forward into Steve’s space, “I would-”
The door behind them bursts open and Dustin yells, “Hurry up I have a curfew!” as he races off to Steve’s car.
Steve rolls his eyes at the kid and takes a step back as everyone else makes their way out the door to the cars or their bikes.
Steve and Eddie linger behind for a moment, which Steve uses to quietly ask, “I’ll see you tonight?”
Eddie gives him a bashful smile in return and nods. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”
Steve resists the urge to celebrate in any way in front of the kids and instead puts his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around Eddie’s ring.
As he gets into his car, ignoring Dustin bitching and complaining, he slips the ring over his finger and smiles at it.
He notices the car go quiet and he nearly groans at his mistake.
“Is that Eddie’s ring?” Dustin screeches.
It’s going to be a long drive home, but Steve doesn’t mind when he has Eddie to look forward to.
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This little idea (or this one) hasn’t left me yet so suffer through more of my ramblings.
Look, Eddie was gonna stay away from Steve.
He watched Steve swipe Billy’s keys off a table at lunch and then chuck them into the woods behind the school last week, and decided that he wants no part of that.
If King Steve is testing out teen rebellion, that’s fine but Eddie is eighteen and he doesn’t have rich boy money to bail him out when shit hits the fan. So…
He keeps his distance. He goes to class. He misses three days of school because he’s got laryngitis again. Now he’s sitting in a booth at the diner, miserably eating ice cream and watching Steve Harrington stroll in.
Steve didn’t have to sit with him. The diner was practically empty because it was 10:30AM on a Tuesday when everybody else is at school. So, no. Steve didn’t have to slide in across from him.
“I’m not driving you anywhere.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” Steve says like Eddie was weird for thinking he might. “Got my car back. You sound awful, by the way.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything else because his throat is on fire, but Steve talks. He talks largely about nothing but in that way that you do when you haven’t talked to anybody in a long time which makes no sense. Steve is popular.
Eddie kinda spaces out because he doesn’t care about baseball, but his attention snaps back into focus ten minutes later when a hand clamps down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve is too casual, “Hey, Hop.”
“How’d the appointment go?” Hopper asks in a voice that sounds like it’s physically being restrained. “The MRI, right? Everything come back clear?”
“Clear as crystal, Chief,” Steve replies. “Got the uh, the A-Okay. Back to normal.”
“Uh-huh,” Hopper nods and then yanks Steve up by his shirt. “Then why’d Owens say you were a no show?”
Steve sputters. This is the first time Eddie’s ever seen him lost for words, but it doesn’t last as Steve scoffs, “That’s like a health code violation!”
He doesn’t get to say much else because Hopper pulls him out of the building. Eddie watches them argue in the parking lot and then pays his bill.
He’s leaving when Hopper marches back into the building but is luckily spared a glance from the chief. He’s not sure if Hopper even noticed him sitting there and he is fine with that.
What Eddie should do is get in his van and go home, but instead, he finds himself walking towards where Steve is waiting next to Hopper’s truck. As he gets closer, he sees that Steve is less waiting and more handcuffed to the side mirror so he can’t leave.
Steve rolls his eyes about the whole thing when he notices Eddie and then offers him a cig from the pack he stole out of the truck’s open window. Eddie shakes his head so Steve pockets the pack before asking, “You can pick a lock, right? I’ve seen you do it before.”
Eddie almost asks ‘when?’ but just sighs instead because…yes. He can.
Hopper returns to his truck five minutes later with coffee to an open handcuff dangling from his mirror. No kid in sight.
#list of Eddie’s weaknesses: (1) free food (2) pretty boys and (3) laryngitis#Would Eddie like to not be involved in whatever mental breakdown Steve’s having? yes#Does Eddie let Steve hide in the back of his van until Hopper leaves? also yes#meanwhile Hopper is just trying to make sure this kid’s brain doesn’t leak out his ears and he’s being fucking difficult about it#steve harrington#eddie munson#jim hopper#Let Steve Commit Crime AU
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daylight
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him
warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff
word count: 3059
a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol
“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.
“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.
“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.
“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”
“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.
Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”
“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.
Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”
“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence.
“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.
And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago.
But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important.
“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair.
“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.
“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.
“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy.
“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.
“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart.
“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.
“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie.
“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.
—
“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.
“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart.
“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.
“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.
“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity.
Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning.
Robin really needs to learn some patience.
“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?”
“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”
“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf.
“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.
Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”
“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest.
“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.”
Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction.
“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”
“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.
“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand.
“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word.
Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”
“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter.
“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks.
“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.
“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder.
“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously.
Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?”
“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly.
“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter.
Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving.
“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him.
“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away.
—
“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.
“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.
“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”
“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser.
“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar.
“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.
“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him.
“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst.
“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.”
Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”
“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up.
“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying.
“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?
“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.
“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.”
Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”
Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself.
“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall.
“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”
“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.
“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.”
“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face.
“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”
Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions.
—
Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.
It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.
“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.
“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.
“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.
“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.
“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch.
“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table.
“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”
“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there.
“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.
“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before.
“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again.
“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.
“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”
Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.”
Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her.
Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.”
That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck.
When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”
“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was.
Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”
Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfiction#kimoralov3
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The Nanny | E.M x f!reader
Anon requested :I have an idea for a smut for Eddie. Okay, so the reader is like a babysitter for Eddie, so the reader takes a video of playing with Eddie’s kid and sends it to him. When Eddie watches the video, however, Eventually, his eyes are only on the reader; he becomes attracted to the reader and gets stiff. But the reader did this on purpose for that reason, and so when Eddie gets home, his kid is asleep, and it’s just him and the reader, and they start to get intimate, and one thing leads to another …
Wc: 2.9k
Cw: smut, oral (f&m receving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull and pray
When you got the job about a year ago, you were out of school and desperate for a full-time job to pay the bills. You saw his ad for a live-in Nanny in the paper and jumped at the opportunity.
When you started this nannying business, you never thought you would fall for the handsome dad who hired you.
The family you learned was a father and daughter. Eddie was a widower. His wife had died five years previously, and he had a seven-year-old little girl.
Eddie was a dedicated manager and owner of a construction company in town. His hours were unpredictable, so he asked for your help getting his daughter, Charlotte, ready for school in the early mornings and picking her up. To accommodate your assistance, Eddie has constructed a small house in his backyard for you to stay in, providing you with your own space.
During the year you spent with Charlotte, you formed a deep bond with her, and she became your favourite person. You both shared numerous activities, such as shopping, getting your nails done, having sleepovers, and attending her dance classes.
You supported her at every recital and never missed her soccer games, even when Eddie couldn't attend. Your time with Charlotte became an irreplaceable part of your life.
Your relationship with Eddie grew as the year went on. You became more attracted to him. He was so charming, funny, and handsome. He made you feel welcomed like you were part of the family—the family you wished was real.
Eddie has been away for the last few days; he will be home this evening, but you still wanted to send him some updates about Charlotte. You sent him a video of you guys at the community pool. She loved swimming, and you couldn’t help but want to flirt. Did you wear this specific bathing suit so he would see it? Yes. You can’t help but want to get his attention, to have him look at you the way you look at him.
You were on the splash pad, and thought it would be cute to show a video of you and Charlotte running through the sprinkler. You set up your phone against the wall for balance and click record. You and her squealed as the water was cold on your bare skin. You were smiling and laughing together the whole time. You hoped Eddie found it cute…
Eddie was in the airport lounge when he received a notification on his phone. He smiled when he saw that your contact had disrupted his podcast.
He paused his show and swiped to see what you had sent him. The video began with a scene of Charlotte, soaked and jumping up and down, with her two missing front teeth visible. Eddie smirked at the sight. He loved his baby; he missed her so much. The video continues, and when you come into the shot, his eyes widen as he watches you run toward Charlotte. His eyes can't help but stare. Your ass bounced as you ran back towards his daughter; your tight bathing suit clung to your every curve. The sight of your body so exposed, your wet skin glistening in the sun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his excitement start to grow.
You giggled and laughed as you picked her up and ran with her through the water. Your smile was so genuine, and Eddie hated that he had developed an attraction to you other than liking your personality.
When the video finished, you sent another text, but this time, it was not what Eddie had expected. When he clicked back to the chat, he almost dropped his phone because he was so shocked. Right under the wholesome video of you and Charlotte was a picture of you lying on your bed, hand draped across your naked chest.
He was looking around. To make sure nobody else saw what he was looking at, he opened the photo, and he could see more of your bare skin than he ever thought possible.
Flustered and confused, Eddie didn’t know what to make of this. Did you mean to send it by accident? Was this meant for someone else? The thought of it supposed to be for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Eddie’s chest.
The overhead speaker saying the fight Eddie was supposed to be boarding was what snapped him out of his thoughts. The whole flight would feel extra long now that this would be all Eddie would think about. He couldn’t get home fast enough.
Eddie never replied to your video and didn’t respond to the picture you decided to take for him. You’re unsure what came over you, but you wanted a clear message. You didn’t think the video would do anything, so you got bold.
You started to regret your decision about the picture. Maybe you will lose your job. Perhaps you could play it off as an accident, pretending you didn’t know you had sent it to him.
It didn’t matter because it had been hours, and Eddie would be home any minute.
Trying to ignore the feeling of panic by distracting yourself by cooking dinner, you hear the front door click open.
“Honey, I’m home,” Eddie’s deep voice rings through the front hallway. Your stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice.
“In here,” you try to keep your voice calm. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.
“Daddy!” Charlotte leaps off the kitchen chair and charges her way to her father. He’s been gone three days, the longest he has ever been away.
“Hi, handsome.” You smile as Eddie makes an appearance with Charlotte in his arms.
“H-hi,” he stutters, and his cheeks are a rose pink. He totally saw the photos.
“Dinner is almost ready,” you say, turning back to the stove, trying to hide your awkwardness about what you’ve done.
Eddie cleared his throat and took a seat as though nothing had happened. However, his mind was racing. He wanted to discuss it with you but didn’t know how to approach the situation.
Dinner was okay. You both tried to ignore the elephant in the room for Charlotte’s sake. You asked him questions about the trip, and he asked what you guys got up to. You let Charlotte do most of the talking. She eventually got bored and asked to watch a movie with both of you.
The tension could be cut with a knife as you and Eddie stole glances at one another while Charlotte was obviously enthralled by the princess singing about love in the big flatscreen.
After another hour and a half of torture, Charlotte passed out on her father’s shoulder. He smirks and says he’s putting her to bed and you stand to clean up the mess that was left in the kitchen after dinner.
A few minutes after watching the dishes, Eddie returns to the kitchen.
“You don’t have to clean; you’ve been on the clock for three days straight; I can take over. You sit and have a drink, relax.” He approaches you from behind.
“I don’t mind; youve been travelling all day; it’s my job to take care of you.” You look over your shoulder to see Eddie much closer than you thought.
“No, it’s your job to take care of Charlotte.” He raises a brow.
“What if I like taking care of you?” you drop the clean fork into the right side of the sink with all the other clean dishes.
“Sweetheart, about that…”
“Yes?” You turn excitedly.
“I um-you- I saw something.” Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He sees you looking at him with hopeful eyes as you bite your lip. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw the look on your face.
“I wanted you to see it.” You boldly admit.
“You- uh? What sweetheart?.” He asked, dumbfounded.
“Did you like it?” You take a small step forward, testing the waters.
Eddie visibly tenses. He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to his kids’ nanny, but he’s also only a man—a man who has been crushing on you like he was back in high school.
“This is wrong”
“Why? It didn’t have to be?” You trail a flirtatious finger down his chest.
Eddie inhales sharply, and he can’t help his attraction to you take over.
“Because you’re you, and I’m your boss-“
“Charlotte is my boss,” you giggle and bat your eyes.
“Sweetheart,” he sighs.
“Eddie, I don’t want to keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. I can’t pretend any longer.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Please tell me it’s not just all in my head. All those late nights after we put Charlotte to bed, how we seek one another out even if Charlotte is not around, I see the way you look at me.”
Your face and Eddie’s were mere inches apart. Your lips were so close that Eddie was leaning in against his better judgment, but he wanted you so badly. You were right; there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, and Eddie didn’t want to ignore it either.
“Please, tell me I’m not crazy,” you whispered.
“You’re anything but sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back before closing the gap between you.
His soft lips formed with yours like they were made to be together.
You wrapped your hands around Eddie’s neck, pulling him in closer.
The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly.
Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signalling for him to take it off; you needed to feel his skin; you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him.
You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough.
“Please, Eddie, I need you; let me make you feel good.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like that to me.” Eddie groans.
“Please, I need this; I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t-” You both were so desperate, his pants couldn’t come off fast enough.
With a soft thwap, his jeans hit the kitchen floor, and you sink down to your knees.
“Fuck sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.” he grips your chin before slipping his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on.
You slide your tongue along his rough, working hands, and he watches with lust burning in his eyes. You pop his thumb out of your mouth and replace it with the head of his cock. His thick shaft was heavy in your grip as you took more of him while not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool.
“Fuuuuuck, good girl.” Eddie’s breath became erratic.
Your eyes started watering as you tried taking him all the way down your throat, but Eddie was big.
Your breathing became shallow, but you were in heaven.
“You ok, sweetheart?” He’s looking down at you, a hand cupped on the back of your head, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth as he hits the back of your throat.
You bob your head back slowly as you nod yes. You were finally able to catch your breath, drool coming out of your mouth as you pumped his cock in and out of your slick mouth.
Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening; not twelve hours ago, he was in a different state, jacking off to this fantasy of you on your knees.
He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention.
Moaning your name Eddie pushed you back so your ass was against the kitchen island, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.
He helps you jump onto the white marble countertop with quick hands.
“Baby, please.” An involuntary whimper came from your mouth, and he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy.
“Oh baby,” he said the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.
Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs, forcing your knees open.
He stared into your heat.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with your wet pussy.
He leaned in; he started with soft kitten licks to your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate, before he took long deep strokes off his tongue, tasting every inch of you. Eddie moaned at your tase; he wanted to consume you, to make you feel so good you forget about every man before him.
The tickle of his beard was grounding you. This was actually happening.
“Oh!” You cry but quickly cup your hand over your mouth, remembering Char was upstairs.
With Eddie’s face pressed into your cunt your orgasm was quickly approaching. You couldn’t resist it anymore; your hips started gyrating into his face, and you needed more.
“Eddie, please,” you whimpered.
“You want more, sweetheart?” he pulls away and replaced his mouth with his index finger, slowly stroking up and down your weeping slit.
“Yes, Eddie, please.”
“That’s my good girl, asking so nicely,” he said, grinning up at you before standing.
With his hard cock in hand, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices so he could split into you nice and easy.
At this point, you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Inch by inch, the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch was so good, too good.
“That’s it, sweetheart, fuckin’ taking me so well.” He slipped inside of you until you felt the tickle of his pubes against your clit.
You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close, and he hardly started.
Incoherent muffled moans filled the empty kitchen as Eddie's cock quickly started to pump in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot on each thrust.
You didn’t stand a chance, as he had your legs over your shoulders, ankles rolling. He gripped the backs of your calves to hold your legs as wide as they could go.
With each thrust, the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up.
The feeling in your belly started to build until he unexpectedly pulled you off the counter, walked you over to the couch, and flipped you so you were on all fours.
Once you were spread open for him, he started thrusting harder.
“Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” You screamed into the couch cushions.
It was so good your hands gave out, your cheek pressing into the brown leather, only making your ass stick out more for him.
He spreads your cheeks to watch how your greedy pussy swollen his cock each time.
A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you; you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out.
He’s going at a pace that makes your head spin; his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow.
The noises that are coming out of you are inhuman; you don’t even recognize yourself; he was so big, you were so full, it was too good.
“shhhhhh, sweetheart, we need to be quiet.” He wraps a hand around your face to cup your mouth to muffle the moans, but that only makes it hotter, so you cry about again. You couldn’t talk; each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in.
Each thrust was building up the coil in your stomach. You were so close when he started rubbing your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m close,” you seethe through gritted teeth.
“Come, sweetheart, come on my cock.” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking; your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body.
“Oh god, yes, baby, milk this cock so good” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock that he almost wasn’t able to pull out in time.
You feel his warm seed on your back as his orgasm shoots through him.
Dazed and all fucked out, you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you after he cleaned you up a little bit.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Eyes glazed over, you manage a
“Hi,” you giggle.
You curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks; you couldn’t help yourself; your boyfriend was just so hot.
“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” he throws you over his shoulder. “Eddie, put me down,” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face. He runs you to his bedroom; you know it is going to be a long night.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#Eddie Munson x you#Eddie Munson smut#single!dad Eddie Munson#daddy eddie munson#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#daddy!eddie Munson x reader#eddie Munson fluff#eddie munson request#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson concept#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson
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Bullshit (part 2/3)
Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.
Steve missed his polos.
He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.
Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.
(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)
It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.
Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.
Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.
But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.
Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.
Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.
Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.
“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”
Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.
“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.
“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”
Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.
Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.
“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”
Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.
Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”
Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.
There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.
In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.
Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.
Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.
Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.
Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.
“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.
When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.
“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”
“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.
Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.
“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.
Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.
Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.
Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.
“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.
Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.
“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”
“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.
“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.
Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?
“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”
Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?
“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.
Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.
Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.
Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.
“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”
Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:
“But I’m not happy, Steve.”
Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.
“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”
Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.
Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.
Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”
And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.
Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.
Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.
-
Part 3
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tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump
#fic: bullshit#this was meant to be a fix-it#but the angst wouldn’t leave me#but don’t worry!#I already have the fix-it planned!#only one more part to go#hehehe#steddie angst#angst continuation#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#plot thots
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Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.
Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.
Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.
The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.
A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.
"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."
The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."
He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.
This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.
They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.
He misses the shitheads.
No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.
Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.
It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.
It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.
Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.
In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.
"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.
"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."
"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."
He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.
She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."
Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"
"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.
Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"
Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.
Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"
"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."
"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."
Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."
"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"
Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.
"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"
"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."
The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.
Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”
Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”
“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.
Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”
“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”
“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.
Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”
Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”
He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.
Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.
Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”
Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”
Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”
The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.
It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.
part two!
#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room#one of them just got his license and im now even more worried#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#college au#pre relationship
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Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.
And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it.
So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.
They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."
After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.
He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.
And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.
Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."
He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.
Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.
Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.
They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"
And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."
Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"
"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."
He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."
Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."
His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.
The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.
The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"
Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"
The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.
Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.
It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"
Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."
He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."
"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."
"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.
---
The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.
He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."
Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."
The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.
Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.
He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.
They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.
When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze.
---
Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.
The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.
It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--
Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.
He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.
He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.
Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.
"Okay?" Wayne asks.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.
He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"
And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."
And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#wayne pov#good uncle wayne munson#fluff#ficlet#matchmaking#getting together#first kiss#outside pov#sweet#matchmaker wayne munson#hallmark vibes#quaint small town vibes#wayne makes mugs#steve does carpentry#farmers market#eddie's dnd show is canceled and he's sad
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The voice echoes. He's coming in and out of it, desperate to open his eyes, desperate to make sure he can actually feel all his fingers and toes, but it's hard.
He knows that voice though. He knows he does.
The building hadn't been as stable as they thought it was. Probably in the investigation later on they'll discover building codes not up to standard, faulty evacuation plans. He got the kid out, though. He knows he got the kid out.
Eddie too, he's pretty sure.
".. uck!" The voice yells. It's kind of funny, he thinks to himself, as he can feel the strings of consciousness slipping, how much his name sounds like a curse when you're having a hard time keeping things straight. And then everything fades to black.
---
---
"Buck, please. Just wake up."
He wants to, is the thing. It's not like he's not trying, he wants to tell the voice, wants to be a little petulant about it too. That feels like the right attitude to have, for some reason.
It's hard to breathe. Might be something has him pinned. He'd seen beams falling, he's pretty sure.
"Goddamnit!" the voice yells, and Buck strains to remember. "I can't move this fucking thing unless you're able to get out from under it on your own, so wake the hell up. C'mon. Give me something to work with."
Buck wiggles a toe. Fucking ow.
Fingers, next, and that - that's a whole new ballgame of pain, but holy shit he can feel it all. Jesus Christ it hurts.
"For fucks sake, Evan, I'll take anything, at this point. Please."
Buck's lips suddenly feel a lot less numb. He does know that voice.
Hasn't heard it in three weeks, except for on the voicemail he'd left three months ago complaining about downtown parking for the hundredth time and letting Buck know he was gonna circle the block again, but -
"T- Tommy?"
Buck blinks his eyes open just in time to see Tommy drop to his knees near Buck's head, a relief filled sob echoing around the space. Buck takes the opportunity to stare.
"Hey," Tommy says, breathless, the corners of his eyes wet, his turnouts fully covered in dusty debris. It's an achingly familiar sight, even if he's significantly less sooty than the last time.
"You swear a lot more on the job," Buck notes, and Tommy bites out a desperate laugh, slipping a hand from a glove to reach for Buck's cheek.
"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks, and Buck crinkles his nose, widens his eyes. He laughs again, and Buck - God Buck has missed this but he's still having trouble taking in a full breath and - Tommy pulls a hand away from Buck's neck. "Your pulse is steady. Elevated, but you should be - can you wiggle fingers and toes?'
"Hurts like hell, but yeah."
"Well. A building just fell on you. So that tracks."
Buck takes stock of himself, even though he feels goddamn miserable taking his eyes away from Tommy.
Sure enough, there's a beam barred low across his chest. Definitely at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones. He can't see much over it, but it feels like he's got full, painful movement in his legs. "Tommy, I think my halligan's pinned with me."
He snorts. There's nothing funny about this, but Buck finds himself snorting back, the two of them bouncing off each other until Buck eventually winces at the pressure and Tommy gets himself under control. He's fully crying now, wet fat tears streaked through the dust on his face. "Thank fuck I am also a firefighter," Tommy says, and Buck prepares himself for the moment Tommy gets the tool under the beam at the right angle to lift. "How's your pain?" Tommy asks, when he's situated.
"On a scale from ladder pinning my ankle to lightning strike?"
Tommy scowls.
"I'll be able to move if you make room. If that's what you're asking."
Tommy eyes the space. The beam. The settling dust and the only real angle he's got with enough leverage to make space for Buck to slide himself free. He won't be able to help Buck pull himself out. "The moment you have an inch you move backward as fast as you can. There's at least two yards of clearance behind you, and I'm not dropping this thing on your fucking head by accident."
Buck nods.
Tommy grabs his chin. "Verbal confirmation, Evan," he demands, suddenly so serious Buck has to swallow back a bratty retort.
"One inch, pull myself backwards."
Tommy nods. Situates his hands. "Good." And then before Buck can brace for the pain he's lifting the beam.
It's fast. So fast Buck doesn't have time to scream, or listen to the signals from his brain telling him he's fucking dying. Tommy lifts, Buck scrambles, and he has just enough room to clear his legs before rubble shifts to their left and Tommy's dropping the halligan to roll his entire body over Buck's.
A few broken pieces of concrete roll to a stop before they reach the two of them, and Buck beams up at Tommy. "Little bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"
Tommy settles his weight. Tips his chin so that he can see Buck beyond his visor. "I feel like maybe you aren't taking this as seriously as you should."
Buck shoves a shoulder against Tommy's weight, and he rolls right off, lays side to side with Buck while they both catch their breath. It's such a fucking familiar position that Buck fails to stifle a laugh.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, when he's calmed down enough that Tommy has stopped asking him concussion protocol questions.
Tommy sighs. Turns to his side, and Buck knows this position, too. They never did it in turnouts, though. "They grounded us an hour before the collapse."
"I heard," Buck presses. "I also heard the 217 was working fire suppression on the perimeter."
Tommy looks guilty. He rolls his neck, reaches out under the guise of checking Buck's pulse again.
Buck doesn't stop him.
"Yeah I might be fired," he says, and then shrugs a shoulder. "They called for full evac and when Eddie came out with that kid but you didn't -."
Buck feels a little breathless again. He almost asks Tommy how much he's got in his tank - Bucks's ran out a while ago. But they seem - pretty firmly trapped. Buck can't see an exit point, and he's almost positive there's not enough room for both of them to stand at the same time. They'll need that oxygen. "You came after me?"
Tommy sighs. Seems satisfied that Buck's heart is still doing what it's supposed to, and that he's not leaking internally. When he shifts his hand, it's not away - callused hands catch the underside of Buck's chin, fingers curl over his cheek. "I'd tell you not to read into it, but..."
Buck's breath catches. He holds it. There's - he has no idea how much air they have. They don't have time (or enough air, maybe) for Buck to lean up and kiss him. "Tommy."
"We'll talk about it when we're both safely out of here and bundled in our shiny blankets. If the 118 doesn't kill me first."
"What...?" Buck doesn't know what that means. They did everything they could to convince him not to reach out but they also weren't, like, calling for his head. He wants to know what it means. Tommy's brow goes up.
He shifts to his knees, holds out a hand. "Help me look around. See if we can find an air pocket."
He helps Buck to a kneel of his own like it's nothing, and despite the creaks and groans and the sting of sore muscles, Buck doesn't think there's anything permanently damaged. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It'll keep, Evan."
More than anything, Buck wants to call him out on that. The implication that Tommy knows more about the 118's current feelings on Tommy than Buck does. His name, suddenly back in play like Tommy hadn't used the lack of it to dig the knife in.
Buck shifts his weight and checks for his flashlight. Aims up, first, as high as the beam of light will go. There's really not much room in this little pocket of space.
He can hear Tommy shifting on his knees behind him. They need to be smart. Conserve air, conserve energy. Buck had been near a sidewall when the building came down, but who knows how long it'll take for the building to be stable enough to attempt a rescue. Maybe they're still gonna die in here, after all.
God, he doesn't want Tommy to die.
"Back to Evan, I noticed," Buck comments, doing a terrible job of not sounding eager, and he can hear the heaving breath Tommy takes, the way the shift of his body just pauses.
"The thing is, the moment I realized I might not have any more time, all I wanted was another five minutes. Just to hear you breathe. See your face. You wouldn't even have to know I'd done it, just -." He sucks a breath in through his nose. "I just realized the pain is still worth it."
That spurs Buck into action, because - because they're not gonna die - not here, not now, not for as many years as Buck can squeeze out of this life. He shifts. He pokes. He checks for light beyond the pockets between rubble. He takes even, measured breaths around the rapidly tightening muscles around his ribs and the moment he feels a draft he almost cries.
"Tommy!"
He turns to catch his eye, thrilled, ready to drag him over and -
"Tommy?"
He's slumped on his side. And - and god damnit, Buck is so fucking stupid, he should have checked Tommy too, should have known if he was hurt he'd hide it like the massive asshole he is.
There's nothing obvious until Buck pulls at his turnouts, and then he has to hold in a scream so he doesn't bring the rest of the place down on them.
---
---
The paramedics don't fight him when he shoves his way into the ambulance behind them. No one does, not as he's shoving Hen and Chim away from him while they desperately try to check his vitals, not when Eddie takes one look at the rebar sticking through Tommy's side and his face goes fucking white.
He crashes twice on the way to the hospital.
---
---
Buck comes to slowly, and is immediately pissed, because he's in a fucking hospital bed.
Eddie leans over him when he sits up. "Take a second, man."
"Did you drug me?"
The eyebrow raise is a little condescending. "You passed the fuck out in the middle of the waiting room when they told us Tommy's surgery went well."
Well that's - that's - oh God, Tommy's okay. He remembers now. Tommy pulled through. Tommy was out of surgery and they were setting him up in a room and it'd be a while before he woke up but he was -
"I wanna see him."
Eddie chuckles, and Buck seriously considers throwing something at him, but before he can find something to toss Eddie's leaning sideways in his seat to pull the curtain divider away. "Even the nurses were taking bets that you'd kill a man if they put you in separate rooms."
He'll have to thank Gina later.
Tommy's still asleep. In repose, he breathes deep and even, eyes fluttering behind his lids, and Buck remembers what an active fucking sleeper he is, how much it had infuriated him that Tommy could never remember his dreams. God.
He's bruised around the eyes, there's a clean shave on the side of his head where he'd taken falling rubble in his mad dash past the kid Buck had sent ahead of him. The hospital gown looks so stupid on him.
Buck glares when Eddie tries to wrangle him back under his thin blanket - swings his legs over the side and tries not to wince when he puts his weight down and feels exactly how fucked up his ribs are. The bindings are tight. He's gonna need help rewrapping them.
"Tommy said something about you guys wanting to kill him. Know anything about that?"
It's a little accusatory. A lot, actually. Eddie sighs. "He tried to bring your shit by the station a week later when he knew you were off shift. Chim and Hen weren't, uh ... particularly nice about it."
Buck blinks. He still hasn't gotten any of that back.
"So he just ...took it back? Didn't leave it behind?"
"Oh he took about fifteen minutes of having his head bit off and then grabbed the box and shoved it back in his bed before he left."
Despite how absolutely ridiculous that all sounds, it makes something sizzle under his skin. If it was all just adrenaline, all just heat of the moment panic, Tommy would have left that box anyway.
They know so much and still so little about each other.
He's pretty sure he might actually get the chance to know more now. Even if he has to pry it from Tommy piece by piece for another decade or five.
Buck shoves that thought right down and gives himself the next two days to think about.
"And what'd you do, while they were berating him?"
"Oh, I threw like three loaves of bread in there with your stuff while he wasn't looking."
"You gave him my moping bread?"
"Two of the sourdoughs and an Irish soda bread."
"What if he didn't open the box back up?"
Eddie shrugs. "I hedged my bets. Either he opened that box back up to do his own moping or eventually there'd be some moldy ass bread in there."
"I hate raisins, by the way," comes the croaky voice to Buck's left, and Buck doesn't hesitate to wheel his saline bag the extra foot to reach the bedside. Buck knows that already. He'd made the soda bread out of spite, at three in the morning when he realized the second pillow still smelled like Tommy's shampoo and he'd remembered the almost-argument they'd had about wet hair on the pillows.
Tommy's hand meets Buck's halfway, and his smile is tired and magnificent.
Eddie smirks. "So you opened the box, then."
Tommy doesn't look away from Buck. His fingers squeeze. "I opened the box."
"Eddie, I need you to go distract Gina for like, three and a half minutes."
"...I know I'm going to regret asking," Eddie says.
"Tommy's hooked up to a bunch of monitors that are gonna make some extra noise in a second here, and they've already seen us making out in this hospital, they don't need to be alerted to another free show."
Eddie's out of his seat immediately, and halfway out the door when he turns back. "Just so we're all on the same page, this is not me encouraging this. You two are just walking talking piles of trauma and you can't just kiss about it and suddenly everything is fine."
Buck can taste the bitchy comment on the tip of Tommy's tongue. He squeezes Tommy's fingers and counts himself lucky when all Tommy does is make a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.
It's not like Eddie's wrong.
The door clicks shut behind him.
---
---
Tommy sets aside a third jello cup and stares at the cards in his hand. He glances through his lashes as he sets two cards down on the pile. "Two sevens."
"Bullshit."
His eyes gleam with challenge as he flips them both over and Buck has to take another loss. He doesn't care, is the thing. He'll happily lose at cards to Tommy for the next -
Six months is a reasonable length of time, probably. They've hit that mark once before.
Tommy shifts his weight, grimaces, and Buck is on his feet in a heartbeat. "You need another pillow? Change the angle of the bed?"
He laughs, soft and warm, rolls his eyes. "That joke I made about you guys needing your own ward? You may not have it named after you, but it's practically the Ritz around here. All the nurses have come by like six times just to see if I needed my pillow fluffed. I'm good, Evan." Buck settles back into his seat. "I just have a hole the size of a boba straw in my side."
"It was significantly wider than a boba straw."
"Could still suck a tapioca pearl through it," Tommy reminds him, almost petulantly. It's been a treat discovering that Tommy can throw it back almost as well as Buck when he's ornery about being bedridden for a full two days.
Buck finishes rearranging his cards. Grabs three random ones and sets them atop the pile. "Three eights."
Tommy stares at his cards. Glances up at Buck. Turns his gaze to his cards one more time.
"One nine," he declares, and Buck doesn't even complain that he'd fully let him off the hook there.
---
---
Tommy is actually the worst patient in the world. They have to have Eddie over to wrap Buck's ribs for at least a week, and Tommy refused to take any pain meds home with him, and every morning when Buck fusses with the dressings on Tommy's side Tommy stares in the mirror and complains that the scar isn't even symmetrical to the one on his ribs. Buck spends twenty minutes reminding him he'd have a punctured lung, if that was the case, and that seems to shut him up for a little while, at least.
"Hey," Tommy says, on day eleven, when Buck leans over him on the sofa to say goodbye and head back to the loft. Tommy's fine, really. He needs rest and leaving for the night isn't going to kill either one of them. Still, he tugs at Buck's belt loops until Buck allows a knee to bend and press into the cushion beside him. "This is not me asking you to move in with me."
"What -?"
Tommy presses something into his hand. It's warm, like Tommy's been smoothing it in his palm for a while, grooved along the edge facing Buck's fingers. "Yet," he says, softer than before, watching Buck palm it with a smile that Buck is beginning to fully understand the implications of.
It's a key.
Buck blinks. The years stretch ahead of him. Grumpy grizzled Tommy bitching about the towel rack having too many wet towels on it. Silver fox Tommy grinning over some flirty kids head at Buck as he tries to make it back to the booth they got to the bar early to camp at. Tommy, tomorrow, fondly annoyed when Buck confesses he can't watch another true crime documentary or it'll actually kill him.
"I love you," Buck blurts, and feels like crying when Tommy tugs him close for a kiss.
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Forever Young - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Summary: It’s Eddie’s 40th birthday and when everything else is making him feel old, you aim to show him that he’s still young.
Note: in honor of our birthday boy
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m! receiving, older!eddie, Eddie still has his breeding kink of course
Words: 2.7k
[As You Wish masterlist]
To say Eddie wasn’t excited about his 40th birthday would be an understatement. The closer it came to the day, the grumpier your husband became. He’d grumble under his breath, the words obviously not meant to be heard by you or the kids; but the sentiment was still conveyed.
Months before his birthday, Eddie made it clear to you that he did not want a party. Although he loved spending time with his friends and loved ones, he had decided that he only wanted to spend this particular day with his family. But just because he would be getting through the day unscathed by in-person jokes and ribbing from the likes of Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson didn’t mean his own family wasn’t going to tease the patriarch.
“Happy birthday, Dad!” Luke holds a card out to his father. His grin isn’t necessarily mischievous, but it’s smart to always be on guard when it comes to the teenager.
“Thank you.” Eddie takes the indigo envelope from his son and slips the card out. Before his eyes can even take in the bold bubble letters on the front, a pamphlet slips out. Eddie catches it before it can fall to the floor and holds it up to take a proper look.
Hawkins Comfort: The Exceptional Home for Senior Living
The clenching of Eddie’s jaw causes Luke to snicker. Your husband tosses the pamphlet at your son’s face before reading the card itself. Luckily for Luke, the card itself was sweet and didn’t add further insult to injury.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie nods his head and closes the card.
“Thanks,” he reiterates.
“Aw come on, Dad,” Luke says, stepping forward and patting his father on the back. “I’m just messing with you.”
Freshly dressed for the evening out, Eliza zooms into the room, the three-year-old already tickled pink at the thought of having some cake after dinner. She runs into her dad’s legs and wraps her little arms around them.
“Happy birthday!” It’s the fourth time she’s told him this today and he knows it won’t be the last.
“Thank you, baby girl.”
“See?” Luke says, nudging his dad. “You have a baby. You’re not old.”
Eliza’s face goes from gleeful to rueful.
“‘M not a baby!”
“Excuse me, miss.” Luke bows to her before snatching the toddler up into his arms. “I meant to say that Daddy has a young lady for a daughter.”
Placated by that explanation, Eliza nods her head once. “Better.”
As you walk into the living room, a minute later than Eliza due to her rapid speed, Luke gestures to you with one hand while the other one supports his little sister.
“And look! You have a wife who is in her twenties.”
Eddie’s tongue pokes out of the side of his lips, internally trying to decide if that fact makes him feel better or worse. He does have a young, hot wife. But does that make him feel young as well or does he just feel each and every day of those eleven years between the two of you?
“See! Mama is young!” Eliza says.
“Are they ganging up on you, honey?” You playfully pout as you approach your husband’s side.
“Luke’s ready to check me into a nursing home,” he gripes.
“Why you need a nurse?” Eliza asks.
“He doesn’t,” you say before Luke gets a chance to be a wiseass. “Daddy takes care of himself and all of us. Right, Lize?”
“Yeah!”
“Are we ready to go?” Ryan asks, waltzing into the room as he pats his flat stomach. “I’m starving.”
“Didn’t you have a bowl of cereal an hour ago?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Ryan replies. “An hour ago.”
Eddie sighs, remembering the days when he too was a teenager and could inhale food all day and keep that small waist of his. As if able to read his mind, you slip your arm around your husband’s middle and give it a small squeeze.
“Alright gang,” Eddie says, “let’s head out.”
After you all return home, Eliza isn’t nearly as excited about cake as she was before. Her head rests on your shoulder, soft whines coming out of her mouth as you carry her into the house.
“We told you not to eat too much ice cream,” you say.
“Daddy said I could,” she groans.
The restaurant gave Eddie a free ice cream sundae for his birthday and he invited all of you to share it with him. The boys, of course, had room even after finishing off their dinner plates completely. But Eliza’s tiny tummy was already decently full of her noodles before she picked up a giant spoon and started scooping the vanilla dessert into her mouth.
“But you had too much.” You press a kiss to her curls before setting her down on the couch.
Eddie hangs his keys on the hook by the door before coming over and wrapping his arms around you.
“Thank you for a nice dinner, princess.”
You smile up at him and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Daddy?” Eliza asks.
“What’s up?”
She pushes herself to sit up straighter and tucks her legs beneath her.
“How old you now?”
He gives her a small smile as he drapes his arm across your shoulders.
“40.”
“Whoa.” Eliza’s eyes widen comically. It’s hard for you to keep your laugh in. “That’s big number. I don’t think we got enough candles for the cake me and Ryan made.”
This time you have to turn your head to the side and hide your smile in Eddie’s armpit.
Thankfully, Ryan is able to assure Eliza that they don’t need to put the whole 40 candles on the cake. With a gaggle of offbeat singing surrounding him, Eddie smiles and closes his eyes to think of a wish. Apparently, he takes too long for his daughter’s liking. She sighs, naturally dramatic as always, and everyone else laughs.
Eddie is able to blow out all the candles in one go and you cut the cake, giving pieces to your two sons who are eyeing the confection with glee. You’re unable to keep from snorting in amusement at their never-ending hunger and you take a seat next to Eddie to eat your own piece. Deciding to power through it, Eliza manages to eat half off a slice before she lays across her dad’s lap, hands holding her once again full belly.
The perk to her being so full is that it’s easier to wrangle her into her pajamas and under her covers. With one last wish of a happy birthday to Eddie, he presses a kiss to her forehead and her eyes begin to flutter closed.
The boys aren’t far behind. Whether or not they’re going to sleep, you’re not sure. But as long as they’re in their rooms you’re happy. Because you have one last surprise for Eddie today.
You come up behind him as he unbuckles his belt and yanks it out of the denim loops on his black jeans. His shirt raises up slightly and you take advantage, slipping your hands beneath the fabric, letting your nails gently scratch over his pale skin. Eddie starts to unzip his pants and you press trailing kisses across his shoulder blade.
“Baby?” Eddie steps forward out of your grasp and turns around to face you. “I’m pretty tired.”
A frown creases your brow. Eddie has every right in the world to be too exhausted to fool around and just want to climb into bed, but you’re not buying that’s really the case right now.
“Okay,” you say softly, stepping forward and gently cupping his face in your hands. “We can just lay down and cuddle if you want. But something tells me you’ve got something on your mind.”
There’s silence for a moment. Then, Eddie sighs and steps backward out of your hands, and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. You move to stand in front of him and gently card your fingers through his bangs resting against his forehead. He rests one hand on your hip and appears deep in thought for a few minutes.
“I just…” he finally says. “I just feel like the older I get the more pronounced our age difference is.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, not expecting that to be what’s on his mind.
“Hey.” Gently, you take his chin between your thumb and forefinger and lift his head so he’s looking you in the eye. “So what?”
Eddie’s brow furrows and he looks at you, skepticism dancing across his face.
“What do you mean ‘so what?’”
“That exactly. So what if you look like you’re forty and I look like I’m twenty-eight? Those are our ages. Just like you looked thirty-two when we got together and I looked twenty. And how in thirty years you’ll look seventy and I’ll look fifty-eight. What does it matter? Do you really think I give a shit what anyone else thinks? The only two people in this marriage are you and me, buddy.” You grab his shoulder and gently shake him back and forth. “I knew how many years apart we were when we got together. When I married you. When I had a baby with you. You think I would’ve stuck around all this time if I had doubts about our age difference? No way, baby. You’re stuck with me. Even when I get gray hair and all.”
A finger absentmindedly brushes against Eddie’s temple as you speak. Your husband stiffens, connecting the dots between your words and where you touched him.
“I have gray hair?” He jumps up and scurries to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room.
“What?” A heavy sigh deflates your body as you realize the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Eddie. You don’t have any gray hair.” His inspection in the mirror bothers you, so you walk forward and manage to squeeze between him and the mirror. “But even if you did, you’d still be the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against yours.
“I don’t feel forty,” he whispers to you. “I feel like a kid still.”
“Well, you are a big kid,” you tease, managing to pull a small smile out of him. Relieved to see him feeling a bit lighter, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. “And besides, I think I’m the last person in the world you have to convince that you’re still young.”
“And why’s that?” he asks.
Giving him a suggestive smirk, you lean in until your lips ghost against his.
“Because,” you whisper, “of how nice and good you fuck me.”
A low groan reverberates from your husband’s chest and he pulls you flush up against his body.
“Yeah?” His voice is dripping in lust. “You like how I make you feel, princess? How hard I pound that tight little pussy of yours?”
“Uh huh,” you whimper before pressing your lips against his.
Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as you walk him backward towards the bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, all it takes is a small push from you to have him falling onto his back. His eyes are dark with need as he watches you tug his open jeans down his legs. The two of you work together as he yanks his shirt off over his head and you tear his boxers off.
As you fall to your knees between Eddie’s thighs, he sits up enough to pull your top off as well. Once you’re free of the offending fabric, you take Eddie’s cock in your hand. You move it up and down slowly, feeling him harden in your grip.
“Fuck,” Eddie growls.
On a swipe down you lean in and press a kiss to the tip. The resulting moan from your husband sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You pump his cock a few more times before you can’t hold off any longer and have to take him into your mouth.
“Yes,” Eddie hisses.
You run your tongue along the underside of his length, making sure to keep eye contact with him the entire time. The way he watches you with lust-blown eyes and his chest rises and falls in rapid succession with his shallow breaths has you squeezing your thighs together.
You start to bob your head up and down, taking him a little deeper each time. He becomes impossibly harder in your mouth. A large hand gently cups the side of your head and pulls you off of him. The way you whine in protest makes Eddie chuckle darkly.
“Sorry, baby,” he says. “Feels too damn good, though. Need you up here.”
He helps you to your feet and shed the rest of your clothes. Eddie shuffles back towards the pillows, eyes taking in your every movement as you crawl up towards him. When he moves to sit up, you put your hand on his shoulder and push him back down.
“You just lay there,” you coo, lifting one leg to straddle across his thighs. “Rest those old bones and let me take care of you.”
Eddie narrows his eyes, playfully glaring at you and the shit-eating grin on your face.
“Fine,” he challenges. Eddie raises his arms and laces his fingers together behind his head. “Get going.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You line him up with your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him. The two of you moan in tandem, the feeling of being united insanely pleasurable.
Once you’re fully seated on him, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and bites at his bottom lip. His fingers dig at the back of his head, digging into his scalp to keep from caving and grabbing ahold of your body.
Sensing his resolve breaking, you rest your hands on his chest and lean in to speak softly.
“What do you think, Eddie?” you croon. “Want to get me nice and knocked up on your birthday?”
“Shit.”
Your words snap the last bit of restraint he was holding onto and his hands fly to your hips, helping your body move against his.
“Come on, handsome,” you continue through labored breaths, “fill me up with your cum.”
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie huffs a laugh and tilts his head up, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m fucking forty now, I should be able to last longer than this.”
“You forget I know how to push your buttons.”
“Mm?” Eddie looks back down at you, raising an eyebrow as you bounce on his cock. “You mean like this?”
A ringed hand slides between your body and rubs quick circles over your clit.
“Fuck!” You bite down on your lip, attempting to keep your voice low.
“Let’s go, princess. Want you to come with me.”
Unable to respond in any articulate way, you nod your head and hum incoherently. With one hard flick against your clit, the coil in you snaps. Your head falls forward, your jaw hanging open as your high washes over you. The way you clench around Eddie has him following right behind you, the two of you rutting against one another as you ride out your orgasms.
“Holy shit,” Eddie groans as both of your bodies begin to come down.
Suddenly boneless, you flop down against Eddie’s chest and he instinctively wraps an arm around you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and lets his heavy eyes close.
“I love you so fucking much,” you mumble against his chest, slightly sticky with sweat.
Eddie breathes a chuckle and rubs his hand up and down your back.
“How are you so perfect?” he asks.
Now it’s your turn to laugh.
“I’m going to remind you that you said that next time you get all grumpy over me making fun of your age.”
Before you have time to process his movements, Eddie grips your waist and flips the two of you, smirking down at you as he settles his weight against your body.
“I’ll just have to keep proving how well I can fuck you then,” he says.
You raise your eyebrows at him.
“Is that supposed to discourage me?”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#older!eddie#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fanfiction#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson fan fic#Eddie Munson fan fiction#eddie munson imagine#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS
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what if Steve was the one to get away and become famous? Like he gets modeling gigs that somehow shove him into Hollywood. And it drowns him. It's too much and he misses home and his friends. He only ever talks to Robin and not nearly as much as he would like. Just barely talks to Dustin around Christmas. Hasn't seen Eddie since he left.
And he hits a breaking point and crawls home without telling anyone. Rents a shitty apartment and hides and drowns his fear with booze. Because he doesn't know anything but Hollywood but would rather die than go back.
That's how he runs into Eddie again. Eddie owns the Hideout now. Has become a staple of Hawkins. Built a recording studio off the back to help local talent. Runs a D&D night on Thursdays. He even started Friday night trivia. He never saw his life going this way but he's genuinely happy.
Then Steve sneaks into the bar, takes a small table at the back and blows out the little candle Max insisted all the tables should have when she worked there for a summer. Eddie doesn't recognize Steve at first and keeps an eye on him because he hasn't done anything yet but that stranger in the corner is acting awful shady.
And Steve immediately picks Eddie out, watches him from his corner table, stays till 2 in the morning, till closing time, because it's so good to see a familiar face. And finally Eddie comes over to him to tell him he has to leave but the words die in his mouth.
"Steve?" comes out instead, soft and amazed.
"Hey, Eddie. You look good."
"You look... like shit."
And that has Steve cracking a wry grin and them both chuckling. And maybe he and Eddie stay for another hour after the place is closed down. And maybe Steve keeps coming back. And maybe Eddie convinces him to dry out. And they start over. And Steve eventually makes it back to Hollywood, but as a talent scout instead of in the limelight. Maybe he scouts talent from Eddie's little recording studio and coaches these kids so they don't end up washed out like him.
And it suits him just fine, because it's hard to make movies and live in Hawkins where his husband and everyone he loves calls home.
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NINE YEARS LATE
EDDIE MUNSON x F!READER
A yearly Halloween tradition, zombie films and best friends who touch too much for it to not mean anything. 4K of fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]
When you met Eddie Munson at eleven years old, he pointed at your exorcist t-shirt and asked what your favourite horror movie was.
To anyone else it might have been strange, the way the boy's eyes were so bright, his expression caught between nervous and excited like nothing else at that time was more important than the answer you were about to give.
But you gave it with a shy grin and without hesitation, watching a little stunned as the boy brightened and his lips stretched wide into a beaming smile that, even then, left your heart warm and you completely powerless to resist the hand that circled your wrist and yanked you down onto the grass beside him.
He took a cookie from his lunchbox and pressed it into your hand, skin smudged with chocolate and pride in his voice when he told you how he had sneakily watched Night of the Living Dead when his uncle wasn't home and that was now his favourite.
You wrinkled your nose a little as you ate, unable to help the reaction because you didn't understand the zombie appeal, cheeks flushing when Eddie caught it too and threw both hands to his chest, his back hitting the ground with a thud as he flung himself down, like you'd personally betrayed everything he held dear.
"Don't tell me you don't like zombies!" He'd gasped in horror, struggling not to grin when he lifted himself up on his elbows and noticed, far too pleased, that despite the way you had hid your face in your hands, there was a telltale smile in your voice at his theatrics.
"I don't not like them exactly." You countered, eyes appearing above your fingers to watch the way the boy snorted and quirked a disbelieving brow in your direction before you allowed your hands to fall away, huffing. "I mean it! It's not that I hate them or anything, they just give me creeps."
He nodded at your shirt. "And demonic possession doesn't?"
"No?"
'Weirdo." He mumbled, voice soft, and then almost immediately winced, his eyes darting worriedly to yours because what if you didn't catch the way his tone turned fond as he said it? He didn't want you to think he was being mean like so many other kids were in Hawkins when someone wasn't like them.
But then you laughed, the sound clear and sweet, and there was relief in Eddie's chest mixed with a little awe, something innocently adoring because even though he would never admit it, he was pretty sure that was his new favourite sound in the whole world.
'Says the boy who thinks a zombie movie is the best horror." You teased, tongue poking out at him when he shook his head and aimed a playful little kick to your leg, scuffed trainers nudging at your thigh.
There was a moment of easy silence that followed, a few beats where the two of you shared soft, toothy grins before the boy ducked his head and you tipped yours back to gaze at the cloudy autumn sky, fingers twisting in the grass whilst joy swirled in your chests at this new found friendship.
It was impossible to miss the exact second he had the idea, the way he scrambled to sit upright, all long arms and gangly legs because even back then Eddie had been tall for his age. The grin that stretched his cheeks was wild, excitement crackling from him as he scooted closer until he was sat directly in front of you, knees brushing against yours.
"There's only one way to settle this." He blurted suddenly, pleased when your startled gaze turned instantly curious, body leaning forward to signal he had your full attention. "We have a movie marathon. You can come to mine and we can watch both of our favourites and maybe a few more and then we rank them."
You nodded slow, thoughtful , the sharp trill of the bell signalling the end of recess making you jump and Eddie groan. "Okay. That sounds fun. But what if we can't agree on what ranks first?"
Eddie rose ungracefully to his feet and you had to shield your eyes from the low burning sun when you looked up at him, light dousing him in gold that made his eyes look like pools of warm caramel when he grinned down at you and offered you his hand.
"Then we keep having marathons until we do."
**
Nine years later and you Eddie still hadn't agreed.
You were beginning to think you never would. Or maybe even if by some miracle you did, you still wouldn't tell the boy that had become your best friend the moment he'd asked you that question in the playground.
Because it had become your tradition now. These marathons that you had every October 1st without fail because that was the same date that you showed up at Eddie's door for the very first time, a box of cookies in your hand that your mom had sent you over with and a beaming smile that had matched his when he'd flung the door wide open and pulled you inside.
You weren't sure when it became your favourite day of the year or when Eddie became your favourite person but it did and so did he. Never happier than when you were surrounded by warm blankets with a hot chocolate cradled in your hands.
There was always plates piled with freshly baked goods on your laps, movies playing that you sometimes wouldn't remember the names of after and your face pressed to the boy's collarbone when things occasionally got too scary. His arm looped around your shoulder so he could murmur, soft and sweet, against your hair. "It's okay, it's nearly over."
You also weren't too sure when your feelings for your best friend began to change, only that they most definitely had.
He was still the same Eddie, your Eddie. He was big, warm eyes and startlingly pretty grins, an energy that made you think of bottled lightning, the kind you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, beautiful and utterly unruly.
He was all-encompassing hugs, tangled limbs in a too small bed when one of you stayed the night because even if you were to lay at the other end, the boy would somehow still find his way to you in his sleep, strong arms pulling you tight to his chest and a happy sigh on his lips.
But somewhere through the years, through the horrors that started on the screen where they should have stayed but then seemed to leech into your real lives, the familiar touches came more frequently and hands lingered long enough that it caused pulses to spike. Hugs got a little longer too, a little tighter.
There was a reluctance to let go when mornings came around, no longer shy or embarrassed when streams of pinkish gold filtered through the window and stirred you awake only to find the two of you were once again moulded around each other, fingers linked between your bodies.
Instead it felt right, like that was how you belonged. A Feeling that only grew with each year that passed.
Each October 1st that you refused any other plans because this was yours and Eddie's day. Every time you turned up to the other's homes, sitting a little too close on the couch than was considered friendly, eyes drifting to watch each other instead of whichever person was fighting for their lives on the tv when you thought you wouldn't get caught.
It grew, blooming wild and stubborn in your chest, snaking around each rib, until you were forced to admit to yourself that you were in love with him.
And that scared you more than any horror movie ever could.
**
"Sweetheart, you're supposed to be watching this, not hiding through the whole thing."
The admonishment in Eddie's voice was weak - too soft to be truly serious and even if you couldn't tell by the boy's tone, the way he grinned at you when you finally lowered your mug, with what he thought was the most adorable pout on your face, immediately gave him away.
It made you poke your toes into his jean clad thigh in retaliation, a choking gasp of faux betrayal bubbling past your lips when he caught at your ankle and tickled your foot with quick fingers before you could yank it back under the safety of the blanket he'd thrown over you earlier.
You were a lot less mad than you would have been had it been anyone else and christ if Eddie didn't know it, his eyes bright even in the low flickering light of the room and the pillow of his lower lip caught between his teeth to choke down a laugh as he threateningly wriggled his fingers at you once again.
Glaring at the boy across from you, there was a half hearted grumble to your voice when you aimed a nod towards the person being ripped apart by the undead horde on the screen and told him. "You know this wouldn't be a problem if you didn't bring a zombie movie nearly every year."
The noise he made in response told you that wasn't going to happen. But as he leant forward, stretching over to the coffee table to grab a cookie that he then practically inhaled, you could feel his eyes on you. The way he was silently checking if you actually thought the movie was too much or if you were just playing up because you liked to mess with him.
"You want me to turn it off? We could put the next movie on?" He asked in the way he always did, a little teasing but still sweet, touched with hope because you both knew what he would ask next when you shook your head, determined like you always were to sit through the movie just because Eddie loved it.
And you tried to not let it show on your face the way your heart fluttered and swooped in the cage your ribs when he opened his arms the moment you gave your answer, looking far more enticing than you thought a best friend ever should.
All wrapped in a large sweater with sleeves that drooped over his ringed fingers, cosy blankets tossed over his lap and curls still messy from the weather outside.
It really was unfair just how fucking pretty Eddie was.
"Wanna come here?" He murmured in a way that made your cheeks warm, your pulse jumping from fear that he'd caught the way you were staring and his lips tugging up into a soft grin when he added. "Promise I'll keep you safe from zombies."
You narrowed your eyes like it was an offer that you needed to consider - something that took a ridiculous effort considering how badly you suddenly ached to fall into the boy.
In return he rolled his own at the suspicious gaze that you flicked over him - from his fondly exasperated expression to the hands that made impatient little grabbing motions whilst you fought back a smile and warned. "Only if you don't tickle me again."
There was a soft snort when he laughed, grin turning impish as he took matters into his own hands and reached over to pluck your mug from your fingers, placing it on the table before catching you in a gentle grip. "I swear on Dustin's mother I won't tickle you again. Now c'mere."
And so you went - with a shake of your head to hide your smile, you let yourself be pulled into him.
Desperately trying to ignore the way your skin buzzed beneath his touch as he lifted the blanket and folded you tight into his side, waiting for you to throw your arm around his waist and swing your legs over his lap until there was no part of you left that wasn't pressed up against him.
He looked like he was trying and failing to hide how pleased he was as he drew the blanket over the two of you and you all but melted in his arms. Corners of his lips quirking and a soft dusting of pink creeping over his cheeks when his hand automatically began stroking over your hair and you let slip a quiet little sound that was half sigh, half moan - his body still burning despite the innocence of it.
For a little while after that an easy silence fell over you both, a sense of contentment that couldn't be broken by the sounds of gore that came from the screen.
Eddie smelt like Autumn with every slow inhale you took, like cold, night air and smoke, spice from the cologne you bought him two birthdays ago and the cinnamon off the pastries you'd baked especially for that night that he'd almost completely devoured within half an hour of sitting down.
He was warm in a way that felt like safety when he wrapped you up in him like this and it was all too easy to forget how much the movie had previously made your stomach turn slightly. Now barely even batting an eye when somebody screamed because you were too happy being lulled by the rise and fall of Eddie's chest beneath your cheek and the weight of his head rested atop of your own.
You watched the screen with an almost foggy type of interest. A little dazed by the hand that had previously been playing with your hair now slipping down, fingers dancing over the nape of your neck and down your spine to where it eventually stopped. Palm moulded flat to the dip in your back - the heat of it searing through your shirt.
His other hand was curved around your knee - thumb stroking soft circles on the inside that made a tremor sweep over your skin.
It took you far too long to realise when he eventually spoke, oblivious to his smile, the question he pressed to your hair at your shiver, until your trance was broken by the rumble of a soft laugh when a beat too long passed without any response.
Gentle fingers that had previously been resting on your knee were now hooking beneath your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his as he dipped his head to look at you in a way that made your mouth run dry.
"Still with me there sweetheart?" He asked. Voice low, hushed, a little rougher and less teasing than you think he had intended it to be.
And suddenly the room felt a little warmer than before, an electricity present that crackled in the limited space between your bodies.
You swallowed hard, stomach twisting, the sounds of horror in the background fading to a mere hum as you nodded. Your breath hitched when your nose brushed his but you made no move to pull back and if the boy heard it, he didn't say anything. "M'here." You whispered. "What- what did you say?"
In the near-dark you watched him bite back a strained smile, curls bouncing as he shook his head ever so slightly, not at you, but at the way he suddenly felt tongue tied. Frozen with his fingers still cupping your chin and his mind alarmingly blank because you were just so close and fuck, what was it that he'd said again?
"I uh," He stumbled, words a little awkward as he attempted to subtly clear his throat." I was just wondering how you can't watch a zombie movie without hiding behind me, which to be clear, I am not complaining about , but when we got attacked by demon bats you were totally fucking fearless."
You felt flushed at how awestruck he sounded, gaze lowering and your hand coming to clasp his wrist, touch gentle on the scars that only recently healed there. "I was hardly fearless Eds." You muttered.
But the boy was already tutting, an argument ready on his tongue before you could finish your dismissal.
"Babe, I watched you decapitate one of those things with an oar like it was nothing." He grinned, feeling a little more daring as he grazed his thumb just below your lip, eyes dark on you as your lashes fluttered and you swayed further into the touch. "It was the most metal thing I've ever seen, maybe the hottest too."
He added the last part like a whisper and maybe it was the way you felt too fuzzy, not quite connected to your brain - a little too lovesick and touch-drunk from the way Eddie was surrounding you. The words that set your blood alight.
Or maybe it was just that the credits were rolling on a movie the two of you had barely watched because you'd been too focused on each other, the room falling into the type of darkness that made you a little less afraid of giving away your feelings for the boy.
But you found yourself telling him, unflinchingly honest and without a second thought. "I was only like that because they tried to hurt you, I was beyond terrified until then."
"Is that so?" Eddie mused. He was beaming like you'd just said the best thing he'd ever heard, like having proof of you being murderous at the idea of him being hurt was enough to light the boy up from the inside and make his features glow with a new softness.
You only hummed in response, heart suddenly in your throat, pulse fluttering wildly and you briefly wondered if Eddie could feel it when his hand slipped along your jaw. Thumb teasing along the edge and fingers warm on your neck.
"So if we ever got attacked by an undead horde instead of bats and cat-eating lizards?"
You laughed, shrugging. "Then I guess I'm beheading some zombies."
It was meant to be a light comment but it made the air around you grow heavy, like you couldn't move away even if your life depended on it, when he pressed his forehead to yours with a little theatrical groan.
The way his eyes bore into yours under the dark fringe of his lashes making you breath catch, lungs tight when he teased. "Careful babe, with that kind of talk I might think you're trying to make me fall in love with you."
You don't know what possessed you, the words spilt passed your lips before you could catch them.
"What if I was?"
You felt more than heard the sharp inhale of his breath, the way he froze beneath you, slack-jawed, eyes wide and searching like he was nervous of the possibility you'd suddenly laugh and tell him you were only joking.
But then he seemed to find something in the shyness of your own gaze that made his turn bold, his hand on your back pressing you that little bit firmer against him as he shifted to turn into you fully.
The smile tugging at his lips was one you'd never seen before, the type he only ever gave when he was sure you weren't looking because there was no doubt in his mind that every ounce of love he had for you was written all over his face.
And Eddie swallowed hard before he spoke, his voice shot, affection flooding through the cracks, whilst he bumped his nose to yours. "Then I'd say you're about nine years too late."
Oh.
Wait-
You made a choked sound of surprise as you jerked back to look at him, stunned, fingers curling tight into his jumper and the warm skin of his wrist so you could steady yourself.
"Nine years?" You repeated, feeling dumbstruck whilst Eddie laughed.
But then he was cupping your cheeks with both hands, drawing you back to him with a grin that was all dimples and soft honey eyes and it felt like your heart would burst in your chest when the moment he was confident he had your full attention, he told you. "Sweetheart, I was a goner from the moment you showed up on my doorstep."
"Oh."
It felt like you'd been utterly floored.
It hit you that through all the years that you'd been in love with your best friend you had never truly considered a reality where he felt the same, and now you had no clue how to react.
However you were suddenly, painfully aware of all the times where you'd ached to touch him in a way that you'd then had to remind yourself wasn't allowed, all the time you could have spent learning what his lips felt like on yours, how he tasted. How long you could have called him yours if you both hadn't been so scared.
It felt like a crime to let it go on any longer.
"Eddie?" You whispered, nerves like a champagne fizz in your belly that then spread all the way to your fingers and toes as your eyes fluttered closed at his breath on your lips.
You could smell cinnamon and smoke, a hint of mint underneath, and god, you'd never craved something so bad as you did him.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
He sounded no better than you - voice hoarse - a little wrecked. Thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw like he was desperate to keep you anchored to him as he waited with baited breath for you to ask.
"Can I kiss you?"
His mouth was on yours before you could finish.
Soft and sweet at first despite the energy you could practically feel thrumming beneath his skin. You swallowed the groan that almost immediately slipped from his throat, both hands coming up to clutch at his wrists as he tugged you closer, tilting your jaw so he could deepen the kiss - lips sliding over yours again and again as you clung to him.
When you parted, it was only for a handful of seconds. A beat to catch your breath, to stare at each other like you couldn't believe this was finally happening. But then you caught sight of Eddie, eyes burning dark and hooded, lips swollen with your kisses, and it already felt like far too long.
Clearly Eddie felt the same.
The kiss became demanding when you crashed back together, greedy lips and greedy hands, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before hungrily licking into your mouth. And then you were being pulled onto his lap, soft thighs falling open for him to fit beneath you and the prettiest moan you'd ever heard coming from the boy as your hips settled flush over his.
You gasped against him, a desperate noise that sent heat rushing to your cheeks, when his hand slipped under your shirt to grip your waist. Dizzy at the contrast of cold rings and warm fingers that were gently neading your skin, making you melt further into him than you thought possible.
It made him grip you that little bit harder, squeeze a little tighter to see if you'd make the same sweet sound for him again and Eddie felt like he'd go wild when you did. Like he could lose himself right there and then, with your fingers buried in his curls and your mouth hot on his, because you were all he could think about, see, hear and smell.
He was drowning in you and if you asked anything of him in this moment you can be damn sure that he'd do it in a fucking heartbeat if it meant you'd continue looking at him the way you were when your lips finally parted and you swayed back.
You were all soft smiles and slightly glassy eyed - a bit drunk on the way your best friend had kissed you like he would die if he didn't - and he couldn't resist stealing another, a second and then a third. Quick and a little clumsy because Eddie was smiling too.
There was so much warmth in your chest it felt like you could burst with it. All the emotions and feelings for the boy that you'd buried for so long now free to bloom wild and unhindered in the spaces between your ribs.
You couldn't help the bubble of laughter that poured past your lips, grinning so hard it hurt as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs stroking circles over your sides whilst he tried to pull you even closer.
'Strange." You mumbled, soft and a little drawn out like you were just waiting for him to ask.
He didn't let you wait long, nose brushing yours, heart-achingly indulgent.
"What is?"
"I think I've changed my mind about zombie movies, maybe they're not so bad after all."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction
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so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing
basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems
anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is
also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao
also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't
---
"You're going to fail my class, Munson."
"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.
Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."
He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."
"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"
"Not the first time."
Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."
"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.
"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."
"What student?"
"His name is Steve."
Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.
He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.
"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"
"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."
Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."
--------
On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.
One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.
Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.
He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.
Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.
What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.
"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.
Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.
The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"
Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.
Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.
"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"
"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.
"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."
"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."
"You could've just memorized that."
Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."
Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."
"1,617."
He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."
"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"
"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."
"You don't know Newton's laws?"
Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.
"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"
"It's just...some equation or some shit."
Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"
"What?"
"What do you like?"
Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."
Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"
"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."
Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."
"A what?"
"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."
Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."
"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"
"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."
"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."
"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.
"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."
"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.
"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"
"Yeah, kind of the whole point."
"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"
"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"
Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."
"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."
"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."
"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."
Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"
"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."
"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."
"By...strumming it?"
"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."
He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."
Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."
"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"
"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.
Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."
"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.
"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."
"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."
"Why not?"
"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."
"Does anyone else know, though?"
"My parents and the teachers. And you."
"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."
"Big boy?"
"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.
Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.
He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."
#my writing#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#smart steve harrington#pre-season 1#y'all don't understand i have a whole 5+1 idea in my head about this#well you do understand if you read the OG post actually lmao#but there's MORE that's the point i'm making here#but i wanted this little set up first#just cuz i love pre-show meetings#and steve cutting off the munson doctrine before it can even begin#also unrelated but do y'all ever think about how the entire world really is just science and math and that's incredible#even art is science or math at its core and science and math are art themselves
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