#well but at least Steve and Eddie interacted

[beritybaker]

Somebody To Kiss It Better 💖

Rating: T | Word Count: 2,561 | CW: Injury, Language | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Flirting, Post-Vecna | ao3 For @steddiesportsau week two. Prompt: Sports Injury.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“It’s not funny, Robin,” Steve grumbles.

“You’re right. It’s hilarious,” she says, leaning across the counter at Family Video to get a good look at the stupid mask strapped to his face.

He shoves her away. “My broken nose is hilarious?”

Clearly struggling to contain her giggles, Robin attempts a more serious expression. “Right. Okay. So it’s not funny you broke your nose. But you have to admit that the circumstances are a fucking riot.”

“What, that I tripped over my own feet and fell flat on my face?” He was thinking a better descriptor for his situation might be mortifying.

“That, and the fact that you face-planted because Eddie—”

“For the last time, Rob, stop trying. It’s never gonna happen,” he interrupts, though he can feel his face heating up under his nose guard.

She scoffs. “Only because you’re a huge wuss.” With a smirk, she goes on, “He’s into you, too. I bet if you went over to his place right now and told him what happened, he’d ask you out just because he feels bad.”

“I don’t want a pity date!” Steve snaps. 

“It’s not a pity date if he’s wanted to do it since March.”

“I still don’t get why you’re so sure he likes me.”

“Uh, because I have eyes?” Robin snorts. “And Dustin said so, too—he told me Eddie keeps putting characters in his campaign that sound like super horned-up versions of you.”

“Yeah, well, Dustin doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” Steve counters. He’s aware it’s a weak argument, considering the kid somehow managed to clock his crushes on both Robin and Eddie within a couple days of seeing him interact with either of them, but he’s not about to let Robin gain any ground in this discussion.

“Well, regardless…are you at least gonna admit to me that you were distracted, and that’s why you fell?”

Steve glares. “No, I’m not.” He doesn’t need to admit it; she knows the truth already. She just heard from his own mouth that he happened to look over and see Eddie, and that the next moment his legs tangled up under him and his face hit the court. He’d landed on his racket, too, bending it beyond repair and giving himself a nasty bruise on his hip.

He knows now that he shouldn’t have mentioned the detail about seeing Eddie, because Robin’s never going to let it go, and it’ll be added to her list of reasons he should just buck up and go for it (her own Vickie-based hypocrisy be damned). But what he’ll definitely, absolutely, never in his life admit is that what had really caught him off guard was Eddie in shorts.

It makes sense. Obviously he would be wearing shorts. It’s mid-July, and this week’s been a scorcher. But Steve is a simple man, with simple desires, and for months, one of those desires has been to see a little more skin from Eddie Munson. The fact that he happened to see it while he was playing tennis at the park with his dad was just unfortunate timing.

He’ll never forget that moment as long as he lives. It’s bound to be the most embarrassing thing that happens to him in his entire life, seared into his memory as a series of snapshots.

The hollow thwap of the ball against his racket as he returns the serve. His eyes instinctively darting to the parking lot at the short blast of a car horn. Doing a double-take as he recognizes a mop of hair and a brilliant smile a couple feet above a pair of denim cutoffs. And then…

Another thwap. A wide-eyed dive. A painful crunch.

The only blessing is that Eddie didn’t see it. He was ducking into Jeff’s car by the time Steve’s dad called out his name and rushed over. Eddie definitely didn’t hear it, because even if Steve isn’t about to agree that his crush is reciprocated, he knows by now that they’re good friends. If Eddie had noticed Steve wiping out and subsequently bleeding all over the place from a crooked nose, he would’ve sprinted right over, too.

“You’re impossible,” Robin scoffs, turning away from the counter to browse.

“And you’re annoying,” Steve counters. “Even on your day off, I can’t get away from you. Weren’t you and Nance supposed to have a sleepover?”

“I have to find something to watch! She needs an education, and she doesn’t have the privilege of getting one on the job.”

“So you’re holding her hostage now, too? And she’s not even getting paid for it?”

Robin makes a childish face at him. It’s one she knows he can’t return at the moment, wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue. He just rolls his eyes and goes back to sorting returns.

That’s where they stay for a few minutes. Both of them are silently absorbed in their tasks, until the bell chimes to signal someone else entering the store.

Steve automatically looks up. And just like he did at the park, he does a double-take.

“Hey, Eddie,” Robin calls from the thriller section.

Steve glances her way. Her eyes meet his, and even seeing only the top of her head, he can tell that god-awful smirk is back.

“Hey, Buckley! Thought you were off tonight,” Eddie replies.

“I am. Just here for the goods,” she explains, raising a couple tapes and waving them where he can see. “And keeping Stevie company.”

“But of course. There’s no separating you two,” he chuckles. Then he turns to Steve and freezes at the sight of him. “Oh, damn. Holy shit.”

Steve tries not to close his eyes, forcing himself to meet Eddie’s concerned gaze. It adds insult to literal injury that he’s wearing those goddamn cutoffs again—and they show off even more thigh than Steve remembers.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“Broke my nose,” he mutters.

“Holy shit,” Eddie repeats. “How?”

“Fell.”

“You…fell? That’s it?”

“Yep. That’s it,” Steve says. He shoots a warning look at Robin when he hears a derisive snort. She disappears behind the shelf.

“Man, that blows. How long do you have to wear that thing on your face?”

Steve shrugs. “Couple weeks. Doctor wants to make sure nothing knocks my nose out of place while it heals.”

Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Oof. Sorry, man.”

Don’t apologize, Steve thinks, biting back the actual words. It’s not like I fell because you didn’t measure the inseam before you took scissors to your old jeans, or that your legs are way more toned than I imagined they would be, or that I want you to throw me up against the wall like you did in Reefer Rick’s boathouse, or—

“So, what’s new?” Eddie asks, cutting through Steve’s thought spiral. “Other than the broken nose.”

Steve clears his throat. “Not much.”

“Same here,” Eddie sighs. He approaches the counter and slumps against it, leaning forward on his elbows. Pursing his lips, he goes on, “What time are you off? You wanna hang out later?”

“I’m closing.”

“Isn’t Wednesday usually Keith’s night?”

“He’s busy, apparently. Asked me to switch.”

Robin reappears at Eddie’s elbow. She puts a few tapes on the counter and says, “He’s got a date.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? Good for him.”

“Yeah. At least somebody around here can get one,” she jokes. Then, with a significant look, she adds, “Right, Steve?”

He glares back at her. “Yeah. Lucky guy.”

“I don’t understand how you’re free, Harrington,” Eddie muses. “You got more natural charm in your pinkie finger than I’ve ever seen from Keith. You should be taking somebody out every goddamn night.”

Robin snorts. “You should’ve seen him when we worked at Scoops. He was striking out left and right. It was so bad, I kept a running tally every day of how many girls rejected him. The record was twenty-two.”

This time, Steve is exasperated enough that he does close his eyes for a moment. He’s not sure what’s worse: Robin making pointed comments around Eddie or recounting past misadventures to him.

“Oh, there’s no way.” Eddie turns to him with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “You were striking out?”

“The hat covered up my best feature,” Steve huffs, vaguely gesturing at his own head.

“Oh, in that case,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. His smile remains, and it even softens after a moment. “Well, those girls didn’t know what they were missing.”

Steve’s lungs seize up. Once again, Robin catches his eye, her brows so high on her forehead they’ve disappeared behind her bangs. He narrows his eyes at her—a nonverbal warning to shut the fuck up—then turns to the computer to add her rentals to her account.

Out loud, he says, “I’ll take the hat over this damn thing.” He doesn’t have to point at his nose guard; he’s learned over the past few days that it’s the only thing anyone sees as long as he’s in the room.

Eddie tilts his head and shoots him a sympathetic grimace. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, it definitely is,” Steve says. His deadpan delivery draws a laugh from Eddie that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“Look on the bright side. Wearing that thing should keep your face lookin’ as pretty as ever, right?”

“Oh my god,” Robin mumbles. It sounds involuntary.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, interpreting her frustrated outburst as some startled realization.

She confirms that she hadn’t meant to say anything by turning to Steve in a panic and stammering, “I’m…gonna be late! I said I would meet Nancy at six-thirty, and it’s almost”—she looks at her watch and deflates a little—“a quarter to six.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. He glances at Steve in clear is she okay? amusement, then says, “You got forty-five minutes, and you’re worried about being late? Where are you s’posed to meet her, Timbuktu?”

“Ah, no. Her house.” Robin lets out a nervous chuckle. “I just, uh…I have to pick up snacks, too! See you guys.” She’s already halfway out the door before the words are out of her mouth.

Eddie stares after her, looking bewildered. “What the hell was all that about?”

“No idea,” Steve lies.

There’s a quiet moment, where the only sound is the computer’s keyboard clacking under his fingertips. He figures Eddie must be lost in thought, because after spending enough time with him, he’s noticed that those are the only moments where Eddie stops talking—and sometimes not even then. Like with Robin, he finds it endearing. More than once, he’s caught himself grinning like an idiot as Eddie rambled about D&D classes or a Judas Priest album.

When Eddie does eventually speak, he says the last thing Steve expects. “You know, you kinda pull it off.”

Blinking rapidly, Steve looks up from the computer. He slowly turns to look at Eddie. “What?”

“The nose thing. It’s weirdly cute on you.” He sighs a laugh and shakes his head. “Listen to me. ’Course it is—you’re Steve Harrington. You could be wearing a goddamn bunny suit and you’d be able to make it work.”

Steve stares at him for another moment, at a loss for what to say. “Thank you?” he tries.

“It still sucks, though.” Eddie pauses. He’s leaning on the counter again, though now he has his hands splayed across it, fingers drumming idly. “Did they tell you how long it might take for the bruising to clear up, too?”

Shaking his head a bit to clear it, Steve stammers, “Uh, y-yeah. Few days, apparently.” He goes back to sorting tapes, desperate for something to distract him from the ongoing butterfly swarm in his stomach.

“Hm.” Another pause. “Think it’d heal faster if you had somebody to kiss it better?”

Steve fumbles with a small stack of tapes, dropping a couple. He has to take a deep breath to recover before he can lean down to retrieve them.

In that second, though, Eddie has already leapt over the counter. “Whoops! Allow me.” He squats and starts picking them up, and…

Holy mother of god.

This is too much. It’s too much for Steve to handle, having Eddie crouched on the floor in those fucking shorts, right in front of him, with his skin taut over his quads and the denim hugging his crotch, leaving very little to the imagination. All Steve can do is stare as his breath becomes hopelessly shallow.

Eddie doesn’t notice until he lifts his arm to hand the tapes over. When he does, his eyebrows pinch together in concern. “Whoa. Stevie. You doin’ alright?”

Steve swallows, trying to summon an answer.

“Um. Earth to Harrington,” Eddie says with an anxious smile. He waves the tapes across Steve’s field of vision. “You okay, man?”

“I saw you at the park,” Steve blurts. He isn’t sure why. The ER doc told him he didn’t have a concussion, but maybe his brain got a little banged around, after all.

Looking outright worried now, Eddie rises and sets aside the tapes.

“The other day. I was playing tennis with my dad at the park and I saw you.”

“Okay…”

“That’s why I fell and broke my nose.”

Eddie blinks and shakes his head in a startled little expression. “Okay, Stevie. You lost me.”

Finally, Steve has reached his breaking point. He whirls around and starts pacing away from Eddie, raising his hands to tangle in his own hair. “It’s those goddamn shorts.” He turns on his heel to face Eddie again, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why the hell do you have to wear those things?”

Eddie puts his hands up defensively. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”

“‘What’s wrong?’ You look too good in ’em, that’s what’s wrong!”

Instantly, Eddie’s confused look melts into one of total understanding. A gradual smirk stretches his lips. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you fell on your face…broke your nose…because you saw me walk by in shorts?”

“Yes,” Steve hisses.

Eddie lifts both his gaze and his hands to the sky, as if overcome with religious passion, and cries out, “Holy fucking shit, finally!”

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘finally’?”

“Steve. Stevie. Harrington.” Eddie walks over and lowers his hands to rest on Steve’s shoulders. “I’ve been tryin’ to get you to admit to checking me out for weeks. Gonna be honest, I was starting to think your stubborn ass was never gonna cop to it.”

“You—what?”

“Christ. I was worried I was gonna have to break down and ask you out before you did.”

Steve stares for another moment before demanding, “Why the hell didn’t you?!”

Eddie falters. His smirk morphs into a sheepish grimace. “I, uh…I may have bet Henderson that I could hold out until you admitted it.”

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. But he’s smiling. “I’m gonna kill that little creep.”

“At least let him pay up first,” Eddie says. Then he clears his throat, which gets Steve to open his eyes. “That said, through…you free tomorrow night?”

Steve meets his gaze, skeptical. “You wanna take me out looking like this?”

Eddie giggles and nods. “Technically it’s my fault. I gotta make it up to you somehow.”

[matchingbatbites]

Steddie meet-cute where Steve is a queen/contestant on Drag Race and Eddie is the guy he has to give a drag makeover for a main challenge. The mini challenge winner gave Eddie to Steve in an attempt to sabotage him because their vibes are sooo different and doesn't think Steve will be able to make him look good.

Unfortunately for that person, Steve has a competitive streak a mile wide and is determined to come up with something that works for both of them. The two find a middle ground between Steve's pageant glam and Eddie's metal grunge by going with a more Gothic-style Old Hollywood vibe.

Eddie is surprisingly helpful with the costume part of the challenge - "I've been making my own RenFaire costumes for yeeeaaars," - even though he's about as graceful as a baby deer when Steve puts him in a pair of heels.

What's really surprising is that he and Eddie get on like a house on fire. When they're not talking about the challenge or giving shit to the other players in the room, they're completely absorbed in each other.

They learn that for all their differences, they have a lot in common too, including the fact that they're both LA transplants from Indiana, and they've lived only half an hour away from each other for the last two years.

Steve can already feel a crush on Eddie blossoming, but he's determined to keep his focus on the competition - at least, until Eddie asks if there's anyone waiting for Steve back home.

Steve tells Eddie about Robin, his best friend and sister he never had, and Eddie says "But no boyfriend?" Steve shakes his head. "No boyfriend."

"So if I asked to take you out after you win the crown?"

Oh. "Well, we won't know if I've won until the show airs, and that'll be months from now. But I'd be more than happy to go out with you once we finish filming."

Steve finishes out the challenge, not really caring if the cameras were peeping in on that little interaction - if he has his way, he and Eddie will be months into dating by the time it airs.

They don't win the main challenge, but the queen who tried to sabotage Steve ends up in the bottom, so he's not really mad about it, actually.

When they film the grand finale - with Steve still reeling over the fact that he actually made it to the final three - Steve is more than happy to point out Eddie sitting in the audience with Robin.

And then a few months later, Eddie is right beside him when it airs on TV, the loudest person in the bar when it's Steve's name that's officially announced as the winner.

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu. 

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time. 

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless. 

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees. 

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him? 

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this. 

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips. 

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him. 

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk. 

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before. 

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.  

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact. 

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing? 

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. 

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.” 

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even. 

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk. 

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him? 

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town. 

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!? 

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

 “You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again. 

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you. 

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs. 

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool. 

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove. 

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy. 

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you. 

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed. 

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” 

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you? 

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!” 

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.” 

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?” 

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp. 

Eddie. 

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this. 

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party. 

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk. 

Cocky bastard. 

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes. 

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you. 

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it. 

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink. 

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no. 

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it. 

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.” 

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back. 

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you. 

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too. 

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.” 

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.” 

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more. 

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you. 

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked. 

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy. 

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them. 

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?” 

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert. 

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff. 

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes. 

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it. 

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging. 

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you. 

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something. 

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing. 

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh. 

He needed both of you. 

You needed both of them. 

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy. 

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!” 

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world. 

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all. 

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin. 

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it. 

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle. 

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips. 

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.” 

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt. 

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him. 

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise. 

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his. 

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth. 

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them. 

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time. 

And both of their dominance. 

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good. 

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you. 

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is. 

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you. 

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely. 

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect. 

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need. 

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display. 

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you. 

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully. 

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it. 

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out. 

He’s perfect. 

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?” 

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.” 

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere. 

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses. 

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you. 

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect. 

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever. 

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in. 

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.” 

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?” 

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you. 

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.” 

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls. 

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines. 

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging. 

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls. 

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you. 

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough. 

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough. 

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming. 

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips. 

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge. 

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good. 

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze. 

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.  

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need. 

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.” 

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there. 

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel. 

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,” 

So your plan was working. 

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it. 

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked. 

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this. 

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.  

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face. 

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight. 

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect. 

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it. 

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk. 

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it. 

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before. 

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his. 

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away. 

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements. 

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size. 

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him. 

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it. 

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming. 

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone. 

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers. 

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction. 

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind. 

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you. 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you. 

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are. 

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode. 

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release. 

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him. 

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened. 

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle. 

“What for?” 

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-” 

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it. 

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly. 

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued. 

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips. 

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you. 

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face. 

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back? 

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time. 

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!” 

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous. 

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.” 

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning. 

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie? 

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.” 

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve. 

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?” 

“What?” Eddie inquired. 

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous. 

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you. 

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?” 

[fandoms-in-law]

Wrong Twice Over

Summary: Eddie adopts Dustin immediately because he's mentioned in his soulmate words.Once he hears them though, he just wishes he hadn't discounted someones likelihood of being his soulmate and needs to make it right.

~

Eddie had never told Dustin but from the time the kid had introduced himself, he’d had a place in Eddie’s life. He was mostly thankful that the brat liked DnD so keeping him around wasn’t a hardship at all.

The reason for that were the six words on his knee, the first words Eddie’s soulmate would ever say to him, that mentioned Dustin specifically. Somehow the kid was a connection to them and he didn’t intend to let that pass.

With Lucas and Mike, he’d breathed a sigh of a relief when neither of them said the words, though he definitely hadn’t given them the chance to do so and make sense. It was just better that whomever his soulmate was wasn’t a child.

So far only a week into the new school year had passed, and while Dustin had pointed out a couple of other seniors as people who’d help him, neither of them seemed likely to care if the kid said something right or wrong.

The last person in what Eddie thought was a reasonable age range to be his soulmate was too absurd to even consider as being it: King Steve Harrington himself.

There was no chance that someone like that could be anything to him at all, even if Dustin spoke as if he was a hero.

With those thoughts in mind, Eddie had no worries when greeting his unexpected visitor with, “Well if it isn’t the king coming with threats over something.”

Steve had looked like he actually could have threats given he was holding a few pages of notes out and had gotten out of his car looking like he was on a mission.

Once the words were said though he froze, staring at Eddie and dropping the pages on the ground before seeming heartbroken and turning away. “Well that’s Dustin wrong twice over.” Was all that was said as he vanished back to his car and sped away again.

Now Eddie was frozen, knowing the sentence too well and stunned. He’d expected it to be a joke, or to be something shared flirtatiously, but instead the soulmate words he’d cherished had been hurt and upset. It broke something in him to know he’d somehow been around his soulmate in school for so long yet their first actual interaction had been so negative in the end.

Resolving to figure out how to apologise he picked the pages up and looking them over only felt worse. There were lists and lists on them, things that the new members of Hellfire would struggle with facing in a campaign as well as vague or scribbled out reasons why he should avoid them.

It looked like Steve might’ve even asked someone for help with the list since there were three handwriting styles on the page, some giving ideas for what could be done instead of the things listed, others changing his explanations for why they needed avoiding.

He didn’t know what Dustin had been wrong about, but Eddie definitely felt like he’d been wrong multiple times over about Steve and anything he’d been doing.

At least he knew for certain that he had to make it right again.

~

“Dustin! Need your help!” Eddie called, late to get to the Hellfire table for lunch and focused on the first thing he hoped could be done.

“Better find someone else to help then.” Dustin replied, turning and glaring at him venomously.

Mike also glared, while the rest of the table looked between them in confusion. “Yeah, you don’t do that shit and then ask for favours.”

Eddie looked between them, glancing around to see Lucas staring, expression controlled, where he sat with the basketball team and hopefuls wanting to try out. “I want to apologise. That’s what I’m asking for your help with.” He pulled out the letter he’d written, holding it towards the younger students.

“Why? Because you realised that high school isn’t everything even though you were preaching that all last week?” Dustin snapped. “He literally wanted me to be right. Said he’d try to help when Mike worried at movie night and believed that you’d be cool. We all did. So fuck you, whatever apology you’ve got I’m checking first.”

A throat was cleared behind him before Eddie could reply. “As will I, and all of you better hope it’s good enough.” A band student stood there, arms crossed and eyes hard as she looked over Corroded Coffin. “You spend your life making big statements and gestures so maybe try that this time. I’m taking this now.” She plucked the pages from his hands

“Robin! I need to check that!” Dustin protested, standing to follow her.

Mike rolled his eyes as they both walked away. “She means it. If there’s someone going to raise hell for Steve it’s Buckley and then Dustin. But if that was a letter for him then it’ll get to him.”

“An apology and a thank you. He dropped a list I think he wanted to talk to me about when he came round. I’m glad I have it and wish I hadn’t spoken as I did, though I thought it was just teasing.” Eddie explained, sitting down at the table as he didn’t feel the need for a speech that day.

“What do we have to do with whatever happened?” Gareth asked, looking at the freshman curiously.

Mike sighed as if it was obvious. “Band students sometimes work with the drama kids, so if she talks to the drama teacher where are we going to play? Though I think Nancy might have to get involved to manage that so I will try to avoid it happening.”

“She’d go after a club you’re part of?” Jeff asked, sceptical.

“The party sticks together. We’d accept it if Dustin decides not enough is done.” Lucas says coming over to the table, now looking amused and a glance back to the basketball group showed Robin and Dustin reading over the pages and debating just behind them. “But it sounds like you’ve made a good enough start. Just need to put some actions behind whatever you’ve written.”

The older students exchanged looks, “What party? You mean like in a campaign?”

“Close enough.” The younger pair agreed.

For the rest of lunch conversation moved back to various classes and goals for the year, but Eddie was watching where Dustin and Robin had seemingly come to a conclusion, his apology getting folded into Robin’s pocket.

~

Steve didn’t make an attempt to reach out to Eddie after getting the letter. Dustin calmed down now his initial annoyance had passed, but it was clear not everything had been forgiven.

Soulmates were meant to be perfect for each other, so despite all the ideas based on what Eddie had known of Steve that meant he acted differently, he tried to focus on things he wanted to do to apologise.

Making a character in a campaign would only work if it was one where they got Steve into the school to play, so that couldn’t happen immediately. Writing a song would also only work if Steve allowed it too, and accepted an invitation to the Hideout to see it performed, since Eddie was never going to risk arrest by playing it outside the mansion in Loch Nora.

“Time’s ticking, Munson. Are you going to make a move?” Buckley asked, waiting at his locker when a couple of weeks had passed since he’d sent the apology.

He turned, smiling at her, “Wish I could. Don’t know where to find him and am a little concerned over getting the wrath of his parents if I just turned up on his doorstep to beg forgiveness.”

“We work at Family Video. He gets the early shift during the week so either skip school to see him or come in on the weekend.” She huffed as if this was something he should’ve know. “And those assholes are never in town. I could move in and they’d never realise.”

“Lonely life.” He commented before thinking about it and looking shrewdly at her, “How often do you hang out at his and would you mind if I crashed an evening?”

Robin smirked at him, “Now you’re getting it. Talk to us instead of stewing in that head of yours. This week I’ll be there Tuesday night and Thursday. Entire party will be there on Friday so avoid it unless you know you’re a hundred percent serious over Steve, not just your soulmate.”

“Tuesday night, then. I’ll bring pizza and something sugary.” He decided.

She nodded in allowance of that but, as she turned to leave, added “And something in case he has a migraine. I heard weed can help.”

~

Steve held the door open but didn’t move out of the way of it as he stared at Eddie. “Hi, Munson, erm, are you okay?”

“Fantastic. A birdie told me you’re hanging out tonight and I offered to bring pizza so I could hopefully apologise in person?” Eddie grinned hopefully, but knew his eyes showed the internal wince when he mentioned their last interaction.

“Okay, um, come in. I did get your letter, you know. You don’t need to do anything more.” He replied, stepping back, still looking uncomfortable.

Eddie clicked his tongue, “I have to argue with you there, Harrington. I definitely need to do more, not because we’re soulmates but because you’re apparently the sweetest guy around who keeps lists of things a bunch of kids I can’t figure out your connection to need to avoid in a game it sounds like you never play. I judged you for someone I should have seen you no longer were and that need plenty of pizza apologies.”

“We, basically all of us have similar things we need to avoid.” Steve muttered, but led the way through to his living room where Robin was stretched out over one sofa.

“Munson, come in! Tell us about your day.” She called, gesturing around the room as if it was her own.

He laughed, collapsing onto the other sofa, “What do you want to know?”

“What the shitheads got up to and if they’re planning any chaos for us.” She answered easily.

Steve shook his head, moving to sit on Robin’s sofa, easily accepting it when her feet were placed in his lap. “They’re always planning chaos, if they’re not in deadly situations.”

With that the conversation flowed easily between them and Eddie began to hope that even if he’d messed up meeting his soulmate they could become something wonderful with time, and apparently, with Robin there too. He didn’t need to see Steve with her for long to know there wouldn’t be any separating those friends.

A rocky beginning can still become a great story.

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Eddie is gushing about Steve to Robin and he mentions how it's so fucking metal the way he never shies away from danger. Like, quite the opposite, he literally jumps right into it without a second thought!

And suddenly Robin remembers how Steve wanted to be tortured by the actual real Russian secret service if it meant that his then friendly coworker who he never saw outside of Scoops would be at least a little bit safer. And she notices for the first time how Steve always makes sure that everyone is safe before he leaves a dangerous place - how he makes sure to always be the last one - and she thinks fuck.

(She feels so fucking bad. He is her best friend. Her soulmate. The person who knows her best and vice-versa. How has she never noticed this before?!)

They start paying closer attention to him, then. Neither like what they see. Steve's eyebags grow bigger with every day that passes. He doesn't eat a lot. He can never say no to others, no matter how much it inconveniences him. And when Robin and Eddie gush about what an awesome person he is, he gets an uncomfortable expression on his face and denies it. Robin had never noticed how most their interactions were self-deprecating jokes until now, either.

They need to stage an intervention.

The next time Steve walks through the doors of Family Video, Robin and Eddie are ready. They lay down all the facts and propose a simple deal: either go talk to a professional, or they will explain everything to the rest of the party and they will force him to talk to a professional. It will end the same way no matter what he chooses, might as well take the path with least resistance.

The only thing that sounds worse than paying a stranger to talk about his feelings is to be forced to talk about them to his friends, so he agrees.

He doesn't think it will make a difference, at first. It's not like he is allowed to talk about monsters and other dimensions.

The first session is awkward. But Robin and Eddie always look at him with such worried and expectant looks and he cannot bear to burden them in any way, so he starts opening up more. He can't talk about the time he almost got eaten by Demogorgons in a secret supernatural underground tunnelsystem, but he can talk about the time Billie almost beat him to death. He can't talk about the secret Russian operation beneath the mall, but he can talk about almost dying in the "mall fire". (His memories of his time there are all scrambled because of the drugs, anyway. It is more about the 'near-death' thing and never being able to feel safe, which he can talk about)

He doesn't mean to talk about his interpersonal relationships at first. But then his therapist cautiously asks him about his parents, and before he knows it he is spilling beans he didn't even know needed to be spilled. He talks about how he only seems to be friends with people who went through traumatic experiences with him, and what does that say about him? He talks about when he first realized that other kids are not left behind by their parents for months at a time. He finally starts unpacking the whole Nancy situation and realizes, wow, turns out he isn't nearly as over the whole thing as he'd hoped. (There are a lot of tears).

He seamlessly fills session after session, and at first he doesn't think that it makes much of a difference. Until the kids meet him after he is exhausted from a double shift at Family Video and beg him to drive them somewhere or other, and he can say no and not give in without fearing that they will cast him aside.

(Robin and Eddie are smug when they also notice the changes, but Steve supposes they have earned it this one time.)

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s the way Steve places a pin in that damn map of Hawkins. Two fingers, muddy knuckles. Fuck if Eddie knows the actual destination because all he can navigate is the curve of Steve’s index finger as he smooths out the edges of the map.

And it’s stupid, right? Because the world is folding in on itself and he’s looking at a guy in the kind of way Victorian novelists would only describe as ‘longingly.’ It’s objectively stupid. Probably some adrenaline bullshit that a doctor could explain with a brain scan.

The rest of the group has scattered, plotting amongst themselves. Pulling plans out of their asses. Finding layers of courage behind clues and cassette tapes.

Eddie should do that too. Plan. Make decisions. Do anything other than stare at the dirt underneath Steve’s goddamn fingernails.

“Please blink, Munson.” Steve says while clearing his throat. He’s been doing that a lot. Which is, like, understandable after coughing up lake water all night long.

He clears his throat again. “Show sign of life before I ransack the supply bag for that shit you call music.”

“That… shit?” Eddie spits out the words. Briefly forgets his swirly Steve feelings because of the fucking audacity on this guy. “Rightrightright, because Bob Seger is so fucking dignified, huh?”

“Uh-oh.” Dustin murmurs behind him.

“Because Old Time Rock and Roll is the highest ranking of ear candy?” Eddie searches through their duffel bag until he finds Steve’s Vecna Saftey Tape. Waves it around wildly as he speaks. “Forgive me. I didn’t know entry-level chord progressions were considered Carnegie Hall worthy these days. But by all means, call my music shit.”

He throws the tape at Steve’s lap before dropping back down to his seat on the couch.

“Well,” Steve smirks. “At least we know if the music won’t wake you up, mocking it sure as hell will.”

“Guys. Focus.” Nancy steps into the center of the room. Everyone nods, even Eddie. They listen intently to her directions. Henderson doesn’t interrupt her, not even once.

Nancy’s entire demeanor is charged with currents of determination. It’s honestly impressive. Truly. She could convince congress to change the fucking constitution if she wanted. Have the supreme court eating out of her palm with how persuasive she can be.

And the only thing that distracts her, is the same thing distracting Eddie.

Two fingers. Muddy knuckles.

Eddie follows her gaze back over to Steve. Her expression softening when she sees him.

It’s cruel and expected. Cruel that Eddie has to witness such softness, knowing exactly how it feels. Expected because wedding bells can practically be heard every time those two interact with each other. No one can deny that.

But knowing all this doesn’t stop the cruelty from squeezing Eddie’s stomach till his insides feel raw.

He swallows down his flimsy fantasies. Keeps repeating those words from back in the woods:

It’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s-

“Hey, man.” Steve says.

Man? Not ‘Nancy, my betrothed?’ Not “Nancy, my muse?”

… Man?

Eddie blinks. Glances up to see Steve looking at him. “Your taste in music isn’t complete shit.”

Which isn’t exactly an apology. But the teasing scratches an itch in Eddie’s brain that he hasn’t be able to reach for a very long time.

“Yeah.” Eddie says. “I guess Bob Seger’s stuff is… intermediate. Assistant managerial-level chord progressions.”

He pauses. Then leans in and adds a quick, “At best.”

They both laugh a little. It’s cut short by Steve clearing his throat again. One of the many reminders that they’re not well.

That nothing they’re going through is fair. Not even in the same universe as Fair. Eddie’s eyes fall to the red markings around Steve’s neck. Wonders if that makes his cough hurt worse.

“Look.” Steve nudges Eddie’s arm. Pulls his attention back into this moment. “We’ve got this, okay?”

Eddie can’t exactly tell if there’s softness in Steve’s eyes - the same kind Nancy gives to him so freely. Or if it’s just regularly scheduled Concern. But it doesn’t even matter because Steve said that.

We.

‘We’ve got this.’

Him and Steve.

And, okay, was Steve referring to a collective ‘we?’ Sure, yeah. Obviously. But Eddie is allowing himself to wallow in delusion while the world’s expiration date remains questionable.

So he aims a lovesick smile at Steve and sighs. “Whatever you say, Harrington.”

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyTwo

Prompt from @janie-bean

Eddie’s been working a lot of extra hours since Thanksgiving.

Like a lot.

He’s been doing some hours pretty much every day the store has been open, and to Steve he’s starting to look a little frazzled by it. He forgot his lunch this morning, so Steve has an excuse to stop by and check on him at least. Eddie insists that he’s fine, just that the store is small and they’ve had a lot of customers lately.

Although Steve is pretty sure Eddie thrives on interaction, on new experiences, on just...life, in general, since it’s all still shiny and new to him...he also senses Eddie has creeping uncertainties around his feelings about The General Public.

There’s a distinct possibility they might be starting to get to him, especially when they’re rude. Eddie has made it clear he does not like it when people are rude, asking Steve one evening, “why can’t they just be nice? I’m nice.”

And although Steve totally agreed with Eddie, he couldn’t really give a satisfactory explanation as to why some people just seem to be perpetually dicks.

According to Chrissy, everyone likes their home to look nice for Thanksgiving and Christmas, so that means a lot of fresh flower arrangements to put together, and Eddie has been working the register and maintaining the store front a lot of the time, an arrangement that gives Eddie a lot of exposure to The General Public.

Not to mention all the gifts on the run up to Christmas; Eddie said a man came in yesterday and put in an order for twelve matching arrangements for the end of this week. Eddie haltingly explained that all of his staff, ‘the girls’ were getting flowers and wine as a Christmas gift from the boss. Apparently it ‘keeps them sweet’, which was actually the phrase Eddie was seeking clarification on.

He was relieved to hear the man wasn’t actually a cannibal of some sort.

Eddie’s also, clearly, worried about Chrissy. She accepted the order for the arrangements, but Eddie was vocally unimpressed by the short notice; having him explain things to Steve is kind of novel, it’s been the other way around since Steve rescued Eddie from Starcourt. Now he has Eddie explaining to him about how long ordering flowers takes and how long they last in the shop. Eddie’s also clearly spent enough time with Chrissy to pick up the language; he talks about all the flowers with confidence, and the pride that wells up inside Steve seems to fill him like a warm balloon. He’s pretty sure he could listen to Eddie talk all day, which is lucky, because unless he’s engrossed in something, Eddie likes to talk a lot.

Chrissy isn’t there when Steve heads in, but Eddie is behind the counter rolling some flowers in some paper, producing a neat bunch held together with some ribbon. His hair is different from when he left the house this morning; it had been in a sloppy bun, but it’s much neater now. Steve can see where Chrissy has put it in a tight braid and tidied some of Eddie’s flyaway curls with bobby pins, there’s a little red tinsel on the stubby end of the braid; it’s cute.

He’s wearing a black tee shirt under his apron, some rock band thing, and Steve waits as Eddie deftly works the register and then hands the lady her change.

“See you again soon,” he calls to the woman as she bustles out of the store, Steve holding the door for her.

There’s already someone else at the register, but Eddie gives Steve a quick smile before he disappears out the back. He’s holding a massive bouquet when he comes back, so Steve just lingers, looking at all the loose flowers while Eddie finds a receipt book and an order and charges the customer the remaining balance after deducting their deposit.

He does the whole thing smoothly, completely competent. Steve is so fucking proud of him.

“Hey, you forgot your lunch.”

“Thank you, sorry you needed to drive here.”

Steve shrugs, “that’s okay, busy again today?”

Eddie nods, pulling the sandwich from the sack and getting it half unwrapped so he can shove it in his mouth, “forgot breakfast.”

Steve had been showering this morning when Eddie had headed down; he hadn’t even noticed Eddie hadn’t eaten, “I’ll make us a big dinner? What do you want?”

Eddie shrugs, shoving the sandwich in for another bite. The store goes quiet, the background music stopping, and Eddie desperately chews and swallows, “Chrissy!” He calls, “not again?”

“Yes again!” And then the music starts. Bing Crosby, White Christmas, or whatever it’s called. Eddie groans, his whole body sagging.

“Not enjoying the Christmas tunes?”

“They were okay the first ten times.” Eddie says, deadpan. The bell tinkles behind Steve, and Eddie wraps his lunch up quick, stashing it under the counter, “morning,” he tells the customer, who then asks Eddie a question about flowers that Steve doesn’t understand.

Steve shifts himself out of the way a little, lingering while Eddie deals with yet another customer. There’s a tugging on his pant leg, and Steve looks down to find a little girl, toddler age, pointing at a flower she can’t reach.

Steve has absolutely no idea what it is, but it has a soft stem; no hard bits or thorns or anything, so he crouches down to give it over.

She’s cute, a yellow woolen dress over fluffy tights and tiny little boots. She has her hair gathered up in a bun, mumbling something that sounds like, “princess hair,” before tilting her head so Steve can put the stem of the flower through her bun.

“I’m so sorry, Grace, come on, don’t bother the poor man,” her mother takes her hand, bouquet grasped in the other.

“Oh, no problem, she’s fine.”

The bell tinkles as they leave, and Steve turns to find he’s being watched by Chrissy and a chewing Eddie, “well that was adorable.”

Steve shrugs, “she was cute.”

“Uh hu, can just see you with like, a soccer team of munchkins.”

“Can’t say I’ve given it much thought,” which is true, just lately. He had always thought he’d like a few kids, but now there’s Eddie, and Steve guesses things just don’t work out that way sometimes.

“Uh hu, pretty sure Eddie would make the best dad,” Chrissy bumps shoulders with him playfully, but Steve catches the fleeting frown on Eddie's face. “You still seeing Owens later?” Chrissy changes tack.

“Yeah, he’s got me and Eddie filling out a dream diary thing.”

“Yeah, Eddie said, last night he dreamed he was a gift and Santa dropped him off at the wrong house.”

“Shhh!” Steve tells her, “we’re not supposed to talk about it in case we like, muddy the results or whatever, subconsciously.”

“Uh hu. So what did you dream last night?” Chrissy asks; she blatantly doesn’t care for Owens’ scientific method.

Steve sighs. Today is the last day of the diary thing, so it probably doesn’t make any difference, “Santa left a gift by accident, and I had to get it to the kid it was meant for so I...dreamt I broke into the post office. It made sense at the time.”

“Steve...come on, you can’t deny the link there, it’s not exactly subtle. Maybe Eddie has powers, like El?”

“Yeah, and maybe we should burn the stupid diaries...I don’t want to give Owens any excuse to experiment-”

The bell over the door tinkles, Chrissy plastering on her customer service smile and Eddie stashing the crumpled paper bag beneath the counter again.

Eddie sits with a headband of little devices strapped around his head. He seems fine about it, but Steve’s not going to take his eyes off him. Or Owens.

“Your friend could be right Eddie, your readings are not that dissimilar to El’s just...greatly reduced. Much weaker.”

“So I won’t be moving things around with my mind?”

“I...doubt it.”

Eddie humphs, which despite Steve continuing to be deeply unimpressed with Owens, he can’t help but be amused by. “So what about the dreams?”

“There could be...multiple explanations. From the readings we have from Eddie, and other...examples,” Owens says the word very carefully. Steve knows Eddie was not the only ‘specimen’ brought back from the upside down, but he’s the only one Owens is saying survived Starcourt. Some were even dissected there, a thought that makes Steve feel physically cold with the horror of it.

“There is a possibility that Eddie, at that point in his development, had access to a kind of...low level hive mind. And now that Eddie no longer has access to that, it’s seeking out the nearest thing to join up with. Of course that is just speculation; I don’t know how your DNA being in the mix could effect that? It could simply be that you and Eddie became somehow...linked due to your contribution to the transformation. If you would consent to me taking a blood sample-”

Steve huffs, and something on Eddie’s monitor beeps, “what was that?”

Owens shrugs, “it would take a lot more study. That could simply be Eddie responding to visible irritation from you, or it could be that there is a genuine link and he felt it too.”

They’ve had this conversation so many times now, and every time Owens brings it up, Steve wants to punch him. He just cannot bring himself to tolerate Owens, knowing his methods and what he’s done. Unfortunately he seems to the be only one; Hopper seems disgruntled but willing to go along with it. That doesn’t seem to mean much though, Hopper is disgruntled by everything and constantly seems to be just going along with it anyway.

Eddie likes Owens, and has outright told Steve so. El seems fine with him, too. So it’s just Steve, digging his feet in stubbornly. “Would it help Eddie? My blood?”

“Obviously there are no guarantees but...I have samples of the before and after with Eddie...so to have a better view of the catalyst from the transformation…simply put, I would be able to see what parts of Eddie are you, Steve, and what parts developed organically. To have a better understanding of this now would be helpful in the future should there be a problem.”

“Stevie? You don’t have to.”

Steve sighs, “I know I just...just do it then,” he sits in the seat Owens indicates, “and what about this mental link thing?”

“That would require a lot of testing,” Owens answers vaguely.

Steve sighs, “after Christmas. And only if Eddie wants to.”

Part ThirtyFour

[rocknroll7575]

X men au

*Marvel rivals*

Magneto: AH Jaune good to fight with one of my most loyal brothers

Jaune: I would rather fight Galactus alone than join you* 10 9 8* and the only reason I even Interact with my version of you is cause you deserve to know your grandchildren

Galacta: GO

Magneto: MY WHAT

Ok... now You've made me do Jaune Marvel Rival interactions:

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Magneto: What are my grandkids like, Jaune?

Jaune: Heh, there a handful, but Wanda's able to handle them

Magneto: Are you not able to take care of them in your world?

Jaune: No, its just that with their mutations, I'm lucky to still be alive, haha! Taking care of Mutants children is way harder than Mutant teens!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Logan? That really you!?

Logan: Yeah, it's me kid, why you lookin so suprised?

Jaune: Oh! Its uh... you just look a lot smaller then I remember...

Logan: What does that mean, huh?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Emma: Do you think that Scott...?

Jaune: Don't think it Emma, he's gotta be ok, he's faced worse odds then fighting vampires

Emma: I know, I just... I worry

Jaune: I know you do, Emma...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Heh, never thought I'd see the day you'd be working with Peter, Eddie

Venom: We have embaraced our role as a protector yet the spider seems to still distrust us...

Jaune: Can you blame him? You did try to kill him... mutiple times I might add

Venom: Tried is the key word

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Peni: Wow! Your powers are amazing Jaune!

Jaune: Thanks Peni, your Mech is pretty cool too, way more advanced than anything my world has!

Peni: I'd love to see what kinda tech you have in your world, I would love to see what it's like

Jaune: Heh, maybe one day Peni, hopefully, Reed'll be able to take me home someday

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Groot: I am Groot

Jaune: Names Jaune Arc, nice to meet you big guy

Groot: I am Groot

Jaune: ...uh, you already said that

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Never thought I'd see you here Ben!

Thing: Heh, me too kid, though I gotta ask... you ain't a vampire, are ya?

Jaune: Ben, do I look like a vampire to you?

Thing: Don't know... I'm half expecting you to sparkle in broad daylight

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Johnny: Hey Jaune! Didn't expect to see you here man!

Jaune: Good to see you Johnny, how are you dealing with... all this?

Johnny: Eh, seems like just another problem for Reed to solve, Hey! Met any hot babes lately?

Jaune: I'm happily married, Johnny...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Wanda: I'm worried Jaune... with both of us here, who's looking after the children?

Jaune: I don't know Wanda, but hopefully it's Scott or Rogue, at least they can be responsible

Wanda: What about Lorna?

Jaune: Honey, no offense, but the last time your sister babysat, she got them and her trapped in the danger room.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Susan: Jaune, I see you brought Emma with you

Jaune: Don't worry Sue, I'll keep Emma in line,

Susan: Good, you're one of the only people she'll listen too, how do you do it?

Jaune: seven sister's remember?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Black Widow: Arc? That you kid?

Jaune: Hey Natt, why'd you look so surprised to see me?

Black Widow: Just... it's good to see a familiar face after so long

Jaune: It's good to see you too Natt, I hope the future's treating you well

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Hey, we're cool, right big guy?

Hulk: Hulk has no problem with Arc, but Hulk still remembers prank you and Parker pulled

Jaune: Aw, come on, can't we live and let live?

Hulk: Yes, but Hulk will get you back

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Hawkeye: Heh, a knight and an archer, aren't we a pair?

Jaune: You said it, Clint! Let's just hope that aim of yours is still as good as I remember it

Hawkeye: Haha! Unlike your aim, mine's always perfect

Jaune: Hey, I've gotten better!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: How are you hanging Buck?

Bucky: I've been taking your advice kid, trying to keep moving forward

Jaune: It's hard, but it's what we gotta do, just to keep fighting the good fight

Bucky: Funny, you almost sounded like Steve there for a second

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Hey there little guy... Haven't seen Gwen for a while, everything alright?

Jeff: *sadly purring*

Jaune: Well, hopefully we can find her in all this mess bud, we all miss her

Jeff: *hopeful growling*

[solarmorrigan]

3 & 4 steddie? I love everyone's takes on eddie interacting with steve after the halloween party in s2💛

So! A thing about me is that I'm actually not always comfortable writing about drinking. The "why" of it is kind of a moving target, and I really should have just nixed "drunk" as an option in the tags, so that's my bad D: But! I think I got the rest of your prompt in pretty alright??

4. Cry - Eddie &/ Steve

-

Eddie had only been looking for a quiet place to smoke. Business is great at parties like this, but sometimes he needs a break from all the hubbub. The backyard had been milling with people, but as Eddie had trailed out towards the edge of the property, close to the tree line of the woods behind the house, the crowds had dwindled to nothing, leaving undisturbed peace in their wake.

At least, Eddie had thought so.

It takes a minute for him to notice the new noise – the soft, inconsistent huffs of air working counter to the sound of the whispering breeze. It’s the sound of someone gasping, he realizes, cold anxiety beginning to pool in his gut.

Is someone hurt? Had some drunken idiot wandered out back here, maybe fallen or run into a tree and injured themselves? Were they too hurt to get back up? But, no – as Eddie gets closer to the source of the noise, it becomes clear it isn’t pained gasping, it’s the hitched-breath sound of sobbing.

And just as he starts to think maybe he should just give this person their privacy, let them have a good cry in peace like they clearly intended, he rounds a tree and sees exactly who it is that’s come out into the woods in their lament.

He can’t see the face, but even in the half-light spilling out from the house, the head of hair is unmistakable: Eddie’s just crashed Steve Harrington’s private backwoods breakdown.

For a moment, Eddie is frozen, unsure of what to do. He feels a little like Actaeon stumbling across Diana bathing in the forest, and at any moment he’s going to be turned into a stag for witnessing something he shouldn’t have (and take that, Mrs. Davis – he does pay attention in English class. To the cool parts, at least). Except it doesn’t seem like Steve has noticed him yet, still wrapped up in whatever’s got him miserable, so maybe Eddie can just make a clean getaway? Pretend none of this ever happened?

Intending to do just that, he takes one careful step back and puts his foot down directly on what is apparently the loudest twig in existence. The crack of it rings out like an alarm, and Steve’s head snaps up, his cheeks shining wet in the low light, glancing around frantically until his eyes land on Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says, raising one careful hand in greeting. “Hey.”

That seems to knock Steve back into action. He swears, reaching up to wipe roughly at his face, running a hand through his hair, probably trying desperately to look like he hadn’t just been crying. Eddie figures he should probably let him, give him some plausible deniability, pretend he hadn’t been able to see anything in the dark, that he hadn’t heard anything at all. Except now that he’s here, Eddie finds he can’t quite leave well enough alone. He’s curious.

And maybe he feels a little bad for the guy. Just a little. He looks sort of devastated from where Eddie is standing, eyes wide and wet, cheeks red, hair disheveled (but still goddamn pretty. How is that even fair?).

“You, uh… You okay?” Eddie tries, feeling a little lame in the attempt.

“Yeah,” Steve snaps, running a hand down over his face again. “I’m fine.”

Clearly.

“Did you come here with someone?” Eddie asks. “Like… someone I can go get?”

“What? I’m not drunk or anything, man, I’m fine,” Steve huffs, leaning back against the tree he’d been half-hidden behind, shoulders still slumped.

“No, yeah, I just – like, whatever’s going on with you, I figured maybe a friend would be… better,” Eddie says, waving a hand vaguely at Steve, who scoffs at him. “Wait– Wheeler. You came with her, didn’t you?”

That doesn’t get an answer – not a verbal one, anyway. All Steve does is sniffle and glance away.

“Ah,” Eddie finds himself nodding, speaking before he can stop himself, “trouble in paradise?”

Steve scoffs again. “You know what?” he asks harshly. “When your girlfriend says you’re bullshit, and that your love is bullshit, and blames you for her friend dying, you start to think that maybe there was no paradise to begin with.”

Eddie blinks. That’s a lot to process. “I thought Holland ran away?” he asks after a moment, because apparently that’s the thing to focus on.

“Right. Ran away,” Steve spits out, and that’s – hm.

What do you know that I don’t, Steve Harrington? Eddie wonders.

He doesn’t ask, of course, because nosy as he is, Eddie also has a healthily developed sense of self preservation, and this seems like the sort of thing he shouldn’t be prying into.

“That’s kinda fucked up, man,” he says instead. “She seriously accuse you of that?”

Steve shrugs, says nothing, but still looks miserable enough that Eddie would believe it. Whatever went down between Steve and Nancy had clearly been a hell of a mess. He isn’t entirely sure why he cares (his persistent soft spot for strays is honestly a bitch sometimes), but he finds he doesn’t want to leave Steve like this, depressed and alone in the woods on Halloween.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws his pack of cigarettes, shaking two out into his hand. Steve tenses when Eddie takes a few steps closer, but the only thing Eddie does is offer him a cigarette. There’s a moment of confused staring, eyes flicking between Eddie’s face and the cigarette in his hand, but eventually Steve reaches out to take it.

Eddie takes a chance, leaning in a little closer to offer him a light, and Steve takes it, the warmth of his face near Eddie’s cupped palm feeling almost as strong as the flame from the lighter.

Eddie drops his hand as soon as the cigarette is lit. He needs to get a grip. He lights his own cigarette and takes a drag.

“Thanks,” Steve croaks once he’s blown out his first breath of smoke.

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie replies.

They smoke in silence for a minute, watching the backlit figures of drunken teenagers churn in and out of the house before them.

“Maybe she’s right,” Steve finally says.

“Hm?” Eddie glances over at him, but Steve is glaring at the ground.

“Love,” Steve sneers. “Maybe it’s really just bullshit.”

And something about that just hits Eddie wrong. Maybe he’s never believed in love, as such—not the way it’s described in poetry or sung about in ballads or written about in shlocky romance novels—but Steve clearly does. Anyone who’s been around him and Nancy for more than a minute in the last year could see that. For it to be otherwise feels like it goes against the natural order.

“Nah,” Eddie says. “Love is out there, man. The real shit, y’know? Stuff worth fighting for.”

Steve lets out a little snort, more amused than derisive, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. “You’re not a romantic, Munson,” he says, so sure of himself – which is fair.

“Oh, I’m a cynic through and through, baby,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve gives him a little laugh. “But you – you’re a romantic. You don’t really believe that love is bullshit. And you shouldn’t.”

Subsiding, Steve leans back against his tree, taking another drag of his cigarette like he’s stalling for time. “Why do you care what I believe?” he finally asks.

Eddie shrugs. “The world needs people like you. Romantics. Dreamers. You keep people like us pessimists from collapsing beneath the weight of our own dark souls.”

“What?” Steve coughs out, really laughing this time, and Eddie smiles right along with him.

“Just saying,” he offers.

Steve shakes his head. “Okay, drama kid. And I’m guessing people like you – what? Help people like me keep our feet on the ground?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Everyone needs a rock now and then. A nice solid foundation to start from.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, finishing off his cigarette as Eddie does the same. “Well – you’re, uh. You’re a pretty good rock, Eddie. Thanks.”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie says, pretending that the weird little compliment hadn’t made him light up just a bit. “Don’t mention it.”

And Steve doesn’t, but the smile he gives Eddie – well. What’s something else.

[steviewashere]

AU where Steve, Robin, and Eddie graduate the same year. (So I guess Steve would be held back a year—don't worry about the logistics. Just listen to me.)

They're all in the high school's marching/concert band. Robin is obviously on trumpet, her second instrument is the french horn. Eddie plays the clarinet, but is also on oboe. And Steve is the only guy in the flutes, and also he plays the piccolo because the image of his huge ass hands holding that tiny instrument is funny.

The flutes and clarinets are neighboring each other, both wood winds. Trumpets sitting right behind them. Eddie's, like, a second clarinet. Robin is first trumpet (and the only french horn in the entire band). Steve is a first flute/piccolo, but he's not head of his section—he goofs off too much to get that position even considered for him.

Steve and Eddie like to watch Robin empty her spit valve at the end of practice, but they like to guess how wide the puddle of her spit is gonna be. Steve and Robin like to guess whether or not Eddie has a reed to even play his instrument; half the time he doesn't, half the time he does, but it's cracked or bent or somehow completely cut in half. Robin and Eddie like to time how long it takes Steve to get tuned by the conductor—he ends up having to be tuned for at least two minutes every class period.

They have so much gossip about the other sections of the band. Robin shares stuff about the percussionists because she sits so close to them; Steve has the saxophones and bassoons covered; and Eddie does it with the bass clarinets. They're annoying to everybody else in class. They're also the only ones who accurately play their instruments when their conductor calls on them to give an example of what section they're playing—the conductor practically brags about it with all his other band classes; the bands end up hating Steve, Robin, and Eddie (totally not based on a true story what are you talking about??).

During football games, Steve, Robin, and Eddie sit next to each other. They share shitty nachos from the food stand during halftime. During basketball games, Robin and Eddie are there to support Steve (while also required as part of the pep band portion of class)—they also request Steve's favorite pep songs just to ensure that he'll do well during the game. Steve and Robin have to constantly remind Eddie to remain seated if a player gets injured—Eddie forgets his etiquette every single game somehow.

Steve hates getting fitted for the marching uniforms—especially the dumb little plume on his hat. Robin is always ready with a camera. And Eddie's getting yelled at by the conductor for not tying his hair up, being threatened to do so or he's going to get a low grade in class (the parades they have to do are part of their final grade).

Steve gets braces halfway through the year and they hurt really bad, but hurt especially bad when having to try to play his flute; the mouthpiece is sitting on his lower lip, turned towards his teeth, and for some reason the braces interact with the metal of his flute. Eddie and Robin are ready to fight the conductor for making Steve play. It gets so bad that at one point, Eddie threatens the conductor with, "If you don't let him rest, I'm gonna shove my mouthpiece so far up your ass, you're gonna squawk." He gets detention. Steve falls in love with him. Robin thinks it's pathetic.

The conductor gets a little too impatient one day and snaps at Robin for chatting to the other trumpets in her section. She gets so upset that she starts crying and has to leave class. Steve sends a deathly glare to the conductor before following Robin out to the bathrooms to make sure she's doing okay. Eddie is just there like, "Do that again and you know what's gonna happen." He gets detention again.

Eddie being belittled for the way he plays, getting lost in the music sometimes and racing ahead of everybody else. He threatens to quit music almost every other day. Steve and Robin have to convince him not to—because their dreams may not include their instruments, but Eddie's definitely do; and he can't take that away from himself just because of a few asshole classmates or their even more of an asshole conductor.

The conductor gets fired two weeks after the braces incident. Their new one has to get used to the trio, but they love them.

Robin for sure is lettered in band. Eddie is, too. Steve isn't, but he doesn't care, he's lettered in sports and that's enough for him.

Anyway. I love a good band au and I lowkey wanna write this now because I still have so much knowledge from my high school band days.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Bats in the Belfry

Prompt: Bats | Word Count: 2400 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Pairing: Pre-Steddie | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4 Events, Eddie Died...Or Did He?, Eddie Munson: Bat Boy, Steve Harrington: Exasperated Human

There's a colony of bats that keep swarming the house. It's odd. They've never been there before, and now it's like they're drawn to him. Steve wonders if this is some sort of horrible side effect of his bat bites from the Upside Down. Maybe he's a bat whisperer now, but he can't be sure because they won't light anywhere long enough for him to actually interact with them.

Not that he really wants to interact with them. But if they are gonna keep roosting around the pool, he'd rather find out why.

It's not the first time he thinks that if Eddie were still here, then at least he'd have someone else to ask, to see if this is happening to him, too. But he's not, and Steve's had to come to terms with that. He failed. They lost one of their own. Yeah, Eddie was new to the group, and Steve didn't know him well, but Dustin is mourning his loss. Big time. 

They all are, in their own ways.

Steve is just handing over cash to pay for the pizza he's had delivered, when a bat flies in through the front door, and immediately clings to the ceiling, out of reach. Great, that's just what Steve needs. A bat in his house. Robin will really freak out if he can't get it out before bedtime. She'll be sure he's gonna get rabies if he goes to sleep with that thing in here, and undoubtedly gets bit by it. And honestly? He cannot get that awful round of shots around his belly button just to ease her mind. He can't.

He loves her, but that's not happening.

So, Steve finds the broom in the closet, and tries to usher the bat back outside without letting more in, but it's not at all interested in exiting. Instead flies right up the stairs, and as Steve gives chase, he sees it fly into his open bedroom.

Great. Just fantastic.

Now, it's just sitting on the edge of his headboard, staring back at him.

"Um, I think you're a little lost. The other bats are hanging out by the pool," Steve says. Which, fine. He can give up the pool. But he really can't give up his bedroom. 

The bat just tilts his little head, as if he's listening, but not taking initiative to get the fuck out of the house.

"You can't stay here, you have to leave," Steve says and goes and opens his bedroom window. "Out!"

Then the bat zips over, but not to leave. Of course not. Instead it perches on Steve's shoulder and Steve's first instinct is to knock it away and scream bloody murder. But he doesn't. He just tries to focus on the little eyes looking back at him. He's too close to really see it well, but Steve's trying.

Steve leans towards the open window, and shakes and shimmies, trying to force it to let go of his shirt, but the bat just leans in the opposite direction, towards Steve's neck. Wings tickling Steve's skin. The bat is clearly not leaving.

Then it starts squeaking and chirping, and batting its wings and Steve sees why. There are other bats flapping towards the open window.

Oh, hell no.

He slams it shut.

"Are they picking on you for some reason?" Steve asks, as if he'll get an answer. "It's not because you have rabies, right?"

The bat doesn't answer, of course, but kind of slaps him in the face with a wing, and Steve's gonna take that as a no. 

"I can't have a pet bat," Steve says, "that's weird, even for everything I've ever experienced."

Then, like it's offended, it's flapping its way into the closet, rooting around, as if it's looking for something, if that's possible.

Steve peeks in, and watches as it settles on Eddie's stained battle vest. 

Well, that seems fitting, somehow.

Steve pushes the other clothes around, giving the bat some room, and closes the door to the closet. Leaving it in darkness. They like that, don't they? He thinks so. Nocturnal and all that shit.

And at least it's trapped in the closet, and not flying around the room.

"Don't bite me. That's the only rule," Steve says through the closed door, and hopes it fucking listens if it somehow finds its way out overnight.

In the morning, Steve cracks open the door and peeks into the closet, and where the bat was last night, is something that's taken the shape of Eddie Munson right there on the floor, buck-ass naked.

Now, Steve screams.

And that wakes the Eddie-shaped thing up, making it jump. Steve is fucking freaked out, and he slams the closet door shut, and leans against it. Blocking whatever that thing is, inside. Steve needs help. He needs Robin, and Nancy, the kids. He needs everybody. He needs his bat, the nailed one, not whatever this thing is. 

But he can't get any of those things without leaving his post and possibly letting this thing loose.

"What are you?" Steve demands through the door he's trying to hold shut. Every monster he's faced has been, well, pretty straightforwardly monster-looking. Not human at all.

"I'm Kas the Betrayer! Kas the Destroyer! Kas the Bloody-Handed! The First Vampire!" it shouts, way too loud and over-dramatic. It sounds ridiculous.

"Really?" Steve asks. Because he's suspicious of these claims. All that? It's a little much. 

There's a chuckle behind the door, "No, of course not, Harrington. I'm the town freak, accused murderer," comes the voice that sounds exactly like Eddie. It sends a chill down Steve's spine.

And then he's mad.

"No, you're not! Eddie's dead!" Steve yells, because whatever it actually is, saying that, well, that's pissing him off. If Dustin sees this thing, he's gonna freak out.

"Really not, big boy," Eddie says, and that gives Steve pause.

It can't be. No way. 

"Eddie?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Eddie snarks, and Steve laughs. His heart is still pounding, but he loosens up, just a little. Maybe this is Eddie. Somehow. El's different and they've all accepted her, so, maybe Eddie is different now, too.

"Are you a bat?" Steve asks.

"Only sometimes. I can't control it."

"Are you really a vampire?" Steve asks.

"Not that I know of," Eddie answers. "But I could bite you, and then we'd find out together." 

Steve sighs with exasperation. 

"Be serious. Are you gonna attack me if I open the closet door?" Steve questions, because he's not in the mood for a fight. Not this early in the morning.

"Wasn't planning on it," Eddie says, dryly. "Can I at least get some underwear before you fling those doors open, though? For my modesty, dude. I'm feeling a little exposed in here. It's awfully breezy for a closet. There's an air vent blowing right up my crac-"

"Okay, okay, hold your horses," Steve interrupts.

If this isn't Eddie, it's a damn good mimic, and Steve supposes if that's the case, it deserves to kill him, just for being such a good actor. 

Steve goes over to his dresser, and picks up his walkie, turning it on, clipping it to his belt under his shirt. Just in case. Grabs his nailbat from under the bed, leaning it against the dresser.

Then he looks inside the top drawer, shouting, "Boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers!" Eddie answers, and Steve picks out a pair that he could stand to lose, and cracks the door open, and holds them out. A pale, ring-covered hand takes them. 

"You keep your rings when you change, but not your clothes?" Steve asks, leaning against the door again. Suspicious.

"I don't make the rules, Harrington. Last time I woke up wearing only my socks. That was a great look."

Steve laughs, even if he doesn't want to, even if he wants to be cautious. It just sounds dumb enough to be something that could happen to Eddie Munson, if he was turning into a bat.

Then, a minute later, "Okay. My dick's covered."

Steve shakes his head, unable to bite back the smile that threatens to split his face, as he eases the door open. As promised, Eddie's standing there in Steve's boxers, dick covered, and Eddie's also scrounged up an old swim team long-sleeve t-shirt from the depths of the closet.

And then they just stare at each other.

"Eddie?"

"Yep."

"Explain yourself," Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Um, I'm a part-time bat now?" Eddie says, looking sheepish. "From the bites, I guess?"

"I'm not a bat! And I got bit, too!" Steve screeches. He doesn't think he's a bat. But what if he's a bat and he just hasn't realized it yet? Fuck. Maybe he's a goddamn bat and that's why all the bats are lurking around the house.

"Did you die?" Eddie asks, "Because I did, I think. At least a little. Something happened when I came back."

"You became a bat? Can you like, poof, switch? Is there smoke?" Steve asks, then digs in his dresser, tossing Eddie a pair of joggers.

When he looks back, Eddie's at least a little more decent. Then he digs out a pair of socks, and tosses them over.

Eddie hops around getting them on each of his feet.

"No, I'm not Dracula," Eddie says, "Jesus H. Christ, Harrington. Keep up. Like I said. I can't control it. At least, not yet. The sun goes down? Bat. The sun goes up? Eddie. Most of the time, anyway. It's frustratingly unpredictable."

Steve ponders that, "Are you still…you? When you're a bat? Like, do you remember it?"

"Yeah, sure, I just can't talk. Which, for me, that's pretty fucking rough, man."

"I bet," Steve snarks, and Eddie just grins. 

Steve's relieved. He's probably not a bat, then. But he better make sure.

"Am I a bat?" Steve asks.

"Yep. You're the ringleader. King Steve, Bat God."

"Really?" Steve asks, the idea making him a little queasy. He doesn't want to be the ringleader of bats.

"No! You don't think you'd know if you were a bat? I think you're the one with bats in the belfry!" Eddie snaps, waving his arms around his head, indicating he thinks Steve is the crazy one. Which is pretty fucking rich, coming from bat boy over here.

"I don't know! I've never been a bat before!" Steve argues back, hands on his hips.

"And you still aren't one now!" Eddie yaps.

If he's not the King of Bats, and they aren't at the house to follow him, well. He has a thought: "Are you the one that brought all the goddamn bats to my house, then?"

"Um, no?" Eddie says, clearly lying.

"Eddie."

"I didn't mean to. They all started following me. Like they think I'm their leader. I can't shake 'em. When I saw the opportunity to get away from them and get into your house at the same time, I took it. Sorry about that."

"You don't sound sorry."

"I'm not, I lied to make you feel better," Eddie says, and Steve laughs, and Eddie smiles at him. It's good to see him, honestly.

And he allows himself a second or two just to take him in, alive and mostly well, then declares, "I'm glad you're okay. Sometimes bat or not."

"Thanks, Steve. Me too."

"Does anyone else know about you?" Steve asks, because they're gonna have to protect him. Just like they protect El. The special ones, amongst them. Keep it quiet.

"Um, no?" Eddie says, clearly lying again.

"Eddie."

"My uncle. And Gareth."

Steve is only vaguely aware of who that is, and only because of Henderson.

"That's it? Just the two of them?" Two's not so bad. They can deal with two-

"And JeffandGoodie," Eddie adds in a rush, as if mashing the two names together will make it less of a problem. Steve crosses his arms. 

"Eddie! You should have told one of us first. Me, or Henderson. Nancy. Lucas, Erica-"

"I'm scared of Erica," Eddie interrupts.

"Join the club, we're all scared of Erica!" Steve responds, "Fuck, you could have told Mike, I don't care. Just any one of us, in the know."

"I'm so sorry, Harrington, that I went to my own friends first instead of you and your monster version of the Scooby Gang. Hardy Boys. Nancy Drew. I don't know. All of you freaks."

Steve laughs, "Oh, now we're the freaks?"

"You know about monsters. You kill monsters. That's kind of freak behavior, Harrington."

Fair enough, Steve supposes, and he giggles at the thought of himself in an ascot like Fred Jones. Eddie's just poking at him. It's what he's always been good at, running his mouth and pissing people off.

Snapping back to the problem at hand, he honestly thinks he likes Eddie Munson. Smart mouth and all. Maybe they could be friends. Which he could have never imagined saying before spring break. He's really glad Eddie made it out, even if he's changed. They're all changed, just not in the exact same way as Eddie, and that's okay.

He's gotta tell Henderson. Pull that kid out of his funk. And Eddie's gonna love seeing Henderson's longer hair, rings and whole Eddie-inspired change. Steve's gotta be there when Eddie lays eyes on him for the first time.

"My band, they're pretty excited. A metal band with a real bat playing lead guitar? That's a multi-million dollar proposal, right?"

"Sure, Munson. I just hope after your first gig you enjoy your government sponsored cage, because that's exactly where you'll end up. Being poked and prodded. The freak."

Eddie sighs, and flops on Steve's bed, "I know. But let a guy dream."

Steve nods, and lays down next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, "Eddie Munson. Bat Boy. Just like I saw on the cover of The National Enquirer."

"Weekly World News, Harrington, get it right."

And Steve just laughs, turning his head to look at him, "We should call the others. They'll be so excited to see you."

"Give me a few minutes?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods. He can give him a few minutes. 

And they just lay there in the quiet, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. Warm glow, all around.

"I turn into a bat," Eddie finally says.

"Yes, you do," Steve confirms.

How fucking weird is that? Only in Hawkins.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🦇

Notes: Bat Boy did not actually make his debut in the supermarket tabloid Weekly World News until 1992. Guess in their universe he popped up a little bit earlier, lol. I couldn't resist. And the twenty-one shots around belly button rabies shots have gone out of standard since the 80s.

[penny00dreadful]

And They Were Roommates! - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

Eddie had called out of work the next day. Steve could hear him making his apologies to Mrs. Henderson who'd taken over the running of the shop when her husband passed.

Steve knew she'd probably tell him to stay home for the rest of the week, probably longer if she could get away with it, but Eddie loved every second he spent working there. Adored Dustin. Adored the other kids, Steve's kids, who used the back room for their dice game after closing on Thursday evenings.

Eddie would have to be beaten away from the premises with a bat. A bat with nails.

Steve might just have to give it a try if the idiot refused to rest properly.

He wasn't mothering him.

He was like… distant cousining him.

When he heard Eddie retreat back to his room after the call and when a light rumbling of snores came through the wall maybe a half an hour later, Steve finally made his exit from his room.

He hadn’t wanted Eddie to think he needed to put on a brave face or act like he was okay if Steve was out in the public spaces while he made the call. 

Not because he cared.

Just so Eddie wouldn’t have to pretend.

And so he himself didn’t have to deal with the tension.

Yeah, right.

Also, it was the least he could do to complete Eddie's designated chores off the whiteboard that there had been war over. 

Robin and Eddie’s friend Chrissy had been forced to come in and mediate the whiteboard before one of them set the other's hair on fire. Though by the end of the day the two best friends had been too busy making eyes at each other to be of any help.

Steve was taking a risk; messing with the delicate whiteboard balance that stayed the same, week in, week out, lest another war start. But if Eddie wasn’t up for going to work, he certainly wouldn’t be up for sweeping, mopping, countertops and garbage.

And like, Steve could hardly blame him, he’d been through a lot yesterday, he’d been betrayed by the guy he’d cared most about. He was attacked and had his heart broken all in one night.

So it was whatever.

Just a few chores. 

Whatever.

At least he didn’t have to worry about keeping the noise down. Eddie could sleep through the apartment being ripped up by a cyclone then dropped into Oz.

He’d probably sleep through any and all musical numbers to follow, too.

Though he’d be bummed about missing them.

A few hours had passed by that point and Steve was just about to sit his lovely bottom on the couch to enjoy some good old fashioned thoughtless tv when there was a knock at the door.

He half expected Mrs. Henderson to be on the other side with half a hospital in tow behind her as well as, like, fifteen gallons of her famous chicken noodle soup. Which Steve would not turn down for love nor money and would steal a minimum 50% share.

As was his right.

But it wasn’t Claudia.

It was some guy. 

Some guy who had a bandage over his nose, a harsh purple colour blooming underneath, sitting a little off as though broken. Some guy who had cuts and scratch marks all over his face and neck.

Some guy who seemed to be affronted at the very sight of him.

But as he stood there Steve could see the clogged up gears working in his brain before the guy opened his mouth and said "You're Steve, the roommate."

Steve pursed his lips. 

Well, this interaction was off to a great start. 

Though if this was who Steve thought he was, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

"I'm Steve. Eddie's the roommate.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “What was with the look?"

The guy blinked at him. "What look?"

"The look you gave me, when I opened the door. Like I'd shit on your shoe." He answered with a cocked eyebrow and a cocked hip.

"Oh, uh… I just thought Eddie had shacked up with someone already.” The guy laughed. “Bit soon.” He shrugged and smiled at Steve as though looking for some kind of commiseration for a good joke, two men giving each other nudges about how silly their wives were or whatever other shit straight people did.

But Steve had no commiseration to give.

So this was definitely the shithead, then. Rick.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, practically acting like a barricade, blocking off access to the apartment with his arms crossed. "Don’t like the idea of him having someone at home?” He asked in a light tone. “Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

Rick’s face immediately soured. "That wasn't his business to tell."

“I think you lose the privilege to that kind of privacy when you fuck around on people you’re supposed to love.” Steve shrugged. “Or just people in general.”

“Who the hell are you to judge me?” Rick puffed his chest out. “You don’t know me.”

“And thank god for that. I don’t need to know you. I know you’re a cheater, that’s enough.”

Rick scoffed. “Whatever, man. I’m not here to debate morality or some shit with you. I’m here to see Eddie.”

“No.” Steve answered as simply as he could. 

The guy seemed to need things to be concise.

Rick looked bewildered. “Ex- excuse me?”

“You got cotton in your ears or something? I said no.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? His keeper? You know he hates you right?”

Steve pulled his mouth down into a mocking pout. “Oh no.” He sighed, deadpan. “I’m so heartbroken.”

“Listen, I’m not getting into it with you right now, man. So call Eddie out or move.”

“Or what?” Steve leaned forward a little, feeling his blood light on fire. 

There would be nothing more he’d love at this moment than Rick trying to square up to fight. 

The guy was a little taller than him, but Steve was much broader, much stronger and though it wasn’t something he liked to do, he knew he could throw a decent punch if it was for someone else.

That much was obvious. 

Thinking back on the things Eddie had said last night, the things Rick had tried, the way he’d cried into Steve’s shoulder, Steve would break Rick’s nose all over again if given half a chance.

“Steve.”

Eddie appeared next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from the door.

Rick looked between the two of them before his eyes landed back on Steve, snapping at him “You can fuck off now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh, can I?’, but even so, he looked at Eddie, waiting for some sign of what he wanted, whether he wanted him to stay or go.

But Eddie gave no indication of what he wanted, wedging himself in between the two and pulling the door tighter to himself, his expression thunderous through the blooming bruises and angry cuts.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve took that as his cue to go. Even through all the bluster and posturing and how much the two of them still didn’t like each other-

We barely tolerate each other, Steve insisted to himself, we don’t like each other. I don’t like him.

-he wasn’t going to force himself into this drama and if Eddie needed to tear this guy to shreds on his own, Steve would let him.

But he had barely taken a step back before Eddie’s hand shot out, grasping at what he could until he had a fistful of Steve’s shirt, white knuckling it and stopping him in his tracks.

The movement was hidden by the door, Rick wouldn’t have been able to see it and Eddie didn’t acknowledge that he’d done anything, still staring his ex down.

Steve stopped dead where he was and when Eddie seemed to realise that he wouldn’t be moving, his hand loosened, coming back up to rest against the door.

“I’m here to sort things out between us. Try to fix it.” Rick said, his voice going soft.

Eddie exhaled a derisive laugh through his nose. “Why don’t you go and ‘fix’ your wife?”

Steve crossed his arms, standing guard in the back but still mostly out of sight.

“C’mon babe…” Rick reached out, attempting to grasp at Eddie’s fingers but Eddie snatched his hand back. “I think you’re just… making a big deal out of this when you don’t need to.”

“A big deal?” Eddie snapped, leaning forward. “Not only have you been cheating on your wife but you’ve been cheating on me too.”

“You?” Rick sputtered, incredulous.

He exhaled with an eye roll and only then noticed that Steve was still standing there.

“Are you serious?” Rick almost shrieked. “What the hell are you still here for? Show’s over, normie!” He waved his hand in Steve’s direction as though dismissing him.

Steve raised his eyebrows and smiled back, not moving an inch.

Rick looked back to Eddie. “Are you not going to do anything about him? We’re in the middle-”

“Oh my god.” Steve injected as much sarcasm as he could. “Is this a private conversation? I had no idea.”

Rick’s face was turning red with frustration. “You got a real attitude problem, man.”

Steve turned his mouth down in a pout. “Oh no.”

“That’s it.” Rick slammed against the door all of a sudden, wrenching it from Eddie’s grip and almost blowing it open if it wasn’t for Steve’s hands stopping it in its tracks.

The sudden stop jostled Rick, sending him slightly off balance and Eddie took the opportunity to kick out hard, swinging his leg up until it landed in between Rick’s legs. 

Eddie retracted his foot for just a second as Rick crumpled with a scream of pain before kicking out again, catching him in the hip and shoving him back into the hallway, sending him sprawling.

“Lose my fucking number, asshole.” 

Eddie spat down at Rick before turning back inside and slamming the door behind him.

His eyes were still narrowed and furious as he glared at Steve who could do nothing but stand there.

The sound of Rick’s groans were still echoing beyond the door as the two of them looked at each other.

The silence stretched on as Eddie heaved heavy breaths in and out and Steve stared dumbfounded.

There was a glossy sheen to Eddie’s eyes by the time Steve opened his mouth, not sure of what he was going to say.

But it didn’t matter.

Eddie stormed past him without a backwards glance, his hair just disappearing behind the door before he slammed it closed and the wailing of a guitar and the crashing of drums started to scream out of the speakers in his room.

He didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Didn’t knock on his door to try to pull him out and didn’t try to get him to talk.

Steve was only just waking up the day after when he heard Eddie’s bedroom door open and shuffling coming down the hall towards the phone.

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting in his room while he heard Eddie’s muttered conversation. 

He didn’t want to interrupt, didn’t want to have to force his presence on Eddie before it was necessary but he really had to pee and he’d have to walk past the phone to get to the bathroom.

Thankfully the conversation didn’t last long but then Eddie shuffled away from his own room towards the bathroom and Steve had to take some very deep breaths.

He couldn’t really be mad at him for it, the guy hadn’t come out of his room at all yesterday after the confrontation, he deserved to pee but Steve felt like his kidneys were gonna start failing at any second.

When he heard Eddie shuffle back into his room Steve nearly cracked the wall with how hard he threw the door open, rushing down the hallway and into the bathroom before he exploded.

Eddie hadn’t made another appearance by the time Steve was grabbing his keys for work and as much as it irritated him, he was feeling a little wary about leaving him all alone for most of the day.

Turned out he didn’t really need to worry about it.

Just as he had turned back towards Eddie’s room, there was a knock on the front door.

He swung it open to find bouncing blonde curls and a bright perky smile.

“Hi Steve.”

“Oh, hey Chrissy.” He stepped aside, allowing her to sweep inside. Her sweater was very unusual. Dark blue and baggy and tucked into her light wash jeans. Steve could have sworn he’d seen it before. There was a large plastic bag in her hand that a glance inside told him was filled with every tooth rottingly sweet thing she could have scooped off the shelves at their local store.

She placed the bag on the kitchen counter with a light clink of glass against glass coming from inside.

Maybe it was also a day-drunk type of visit.

“How is he?” Chrissy asked, blinking up at him with her big earnest eyes.

“I’m… not sure?” Steve shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s okay.”

“I think I’m probably going to call over to Robin’s after work.” He muttered, trying to keep his burning blush down. “Hang out for a little bit.”

He didn’t think he needed to say he was doing it to give Chrissy and Eddie their space, to do their ice-cream and chocolate and alcohol and talk about how terrible men were without him hovering. But thankfully she got it, smiling at him so bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Could you…?” She hesitated, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “Could you ask Robin- never mind.”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her it was okay to continue but she barrelled on.

“The boys are coming over later too. Is that okay?”

“The boys?” Did she mean the kids?

“From the band.”

“Oh! Yeah I mean why wouldn’t that be okay? Eddie lives here too.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to check in case-”

“In case I complained about it later?” He tried to ask in his kindest tone. Maybe he’d been guilty of bitching about them in the past but he would never deny Eddie his support system, not at s time like this.

Even if he did… dislike him?

Did he still dislike him?

What was he talking about, of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” Chrissy looked incredibly guilty and Steve couldn’t stand it.

“No, you were right to ask. I haven’t- I’ve been a bit rude in the past.”

She looked like she wanted to apologise again so he shot her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “I have to get to work, but take care of him, yeah?”

She gave him a curious look but nodded, sending him out the door with a wave of her hand, her sleeve following loosely where it was still pulled over her fingers.

Steve was halfway through his shift by the time Robin came in. She worked shorter hours ever since she’d taken that part time internship as a translator.

They’d just gotten past their mid-day coffee rush by the time they had a chance to talk.

“Are you doing anything after this?” He asked her, leaning back against the counter.

“Is this your way of asking me out?” Robin was rifling through the under counter refrigerator next to him, throwing out any old stock that had gone out of date.

“Yes.” Steve nodded. “I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years and I thought now was the best time to confess.”

“You could have picked a more romantic location.” She sniffed at a container of strawberries, considering before shaking her head and dumping them.

“But my heart told me it had to be now, Birdie.”

Robin just rolled her eyes at him.

“So?” He nudged her with his foot, very nearly sending her off balance. “You, me, two of the best subs this city has and your couch. It’s my best offer.”

She shut the refrigerator door, pushing herself to stand, using the counter for balance. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Steve absentmindedly snapped his fingers at her, remembering.

“Oh! You have a date tonight, right?” 

“I did have a date tonight but sh- he cancelled.”

“He cancelled, did he?” Steve smirked, trying not to enjoy the poorly masked revulsion on Robin’s face at having to pretend to be dating a man.

“Yes. He did. Rain check for another time.”

“Bummer.” 

Robin hadn’t told him much about the girl she was seeing and Steve hadn’t pushed for any more information than she was willing to give. When she wanted him to know, he’d know.

“But-” he continued “-that leaves your schedule wide open for a date with me.” He spread his arms wide open and smiled at her.

“Well, aren't I just the luckiest girl in the world?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“The luckiest. Any reason for the rain check?”

Robin nodded. “Friend emergency.”

“Oh. That’s sweet.”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s a very sweet…” her nose scrunched up, “boy.”

“Very sweet boy.” He repeated with a smile. “So can I steal your keys? Have everything all spread out for you when you get home?” He dragged his hand down his chest, wiggling his hips.

“God, Steven.” Robin shuddered. “You’re repulsive.”

“Wrong. I am a dish.”

“Ugh. Gag.”

Steve pouted at her. “I’ll get you a milkshake too, how about that?”

She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. “Fine.”

She could only hold for so long before she started to break, cracking a smile.

“If you two don’t mind,” a voice next to them said and they both jumped, seeing Mark their manager standing there, “could you stop flirting and get back to work?”

Neither of them even bothered arguing that they were not flirting anymore. They both knew the rest of the staff had a betting pool going on when they would get together.

They would be waiting a very long time.

By the time Robin got home, Steve had himself swaddled in her blankets and had stolen her best hot water bottle.

Why did she live somewhere so cold?

His toasty warmth didn’t last very long, however. 

She wrestled the hot water bottle from his grip by resorting to dirty tactics, pulling at his hair until he let it go. 

“How many times have I told you the hair is off limits?” He hissed at her, trying to fix it. His hair was his fucking signature, how could she be so rude?

“That is exactly why I go for it every time. It’s your weak spot.” She grinned, smug in her win and attempting to pull the throw off of him as well.

“Go get one of my sweaters if you’re gonna be such a big bitch baby about it. I just got off work.” She pouted, batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m tired.”

“I brought you subs and milkshakes!”

Robin heaved out a heavy, put upon sigh. “Fine.” She heaved herself up from the couch, still clutching at the hot water bottle and disappeared inside her room.

Steve took the opportunity to swaddle himself again, just getting cosy when he heard Robin call out, “Evie, did you steal my sweater?”

“Which one?” He shouted back. He probably had five or more of hers at home and he wasn’t even sure if all of those had started out as hers or his.

“The blue one!”

“Which blue one?”

“The new blue one!”

“What does it look like?”

“What do you think it looks like, it’s fucking blue!”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to remember any blue sweaters that existed within his own apartment. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have it. I don’t even remember you getting a new blue sweater.”

“Well where the hell is it then?”

“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know it existed!”

“You’re supposed to know these things!”

“Maybe the sweater fairy stole it.” He snickered to himself until a dark red sweater that had definitely belonged to him first hit him in the face.

“You are the sweater fairy.” She pouted, sitting back down and stealing the throw from his lap.

“Don’t hate crime me. It’s rude.” He tugged the throw back over his legs, leaving her enough slack to cover herself as well.

Robin reached over to snatch her sub from the coffee table. “So.”

“So.”

“Something’s going on with Eddie.”

“What?” Steve ran through the entire day in his head. He didn’t think he’d mentioned Eddie once. “When did I say there was something going on with Eddie?”

“You didn’t.” Robin’s mouth went slack in the way it usually did whenever she was hiding something but she covered it up with a large bite, speaking through a full mouth. “But you’re here and not at home so…”

“That’s not that unusual.”

“No, but what is unusual is that you asked if you could steal my keys instead of just taking them.”

“Oh.” Yeah. That was not the norm. “Um, well it’s not really my place to say-”

“Who am I going to tell?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Tell me.” She jabbed him with a sharp elbow.

“I don’t know if I can.” He said, running his hand through his hair.

“I mean, nothing too personal, if you don’t wanna.” She backtracked with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter what I want. The thing is it’s not my business, it’s Eddie’s.” He shrugged. “But there was some… relationship drama the other night.”

“Ooh. Juicy drama?”

Steve winced. “Not exactly. More like… red flag drama.”

“Oh shit. Chr- I didn’t know that.”

Steve looked at her, bewildered. “I wouldn’t expect you to, how would you know?”

Robin just shrugged, shoving another large bite into her mouth. 

“I don’t really… I’m not comfortable talking about the things Eddie and I talked about but I do need you to help me… figure myself out.”

“Okay, that I can do. I’m an expert at it. I helped you find your sexuality.”

“Find it? It wasn’t fucking lost Birdie.”

“Yeah, but I brought it out into the sunlight.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like you released it from captivity. I knew. I’ve always known. Just because you didn’t know that I know, doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

She shoved his arm. “I unlocked it.”

He shoved her back. “You didn’t unlock shit.”

She shoved him again. “I unlocked it. You’re welcome.” 

He gave her a final shove with a huff to go right along with it. “Whatever.”

“Okay, no more side tracking. Tell me your scrambly brain thoughts.”

“Alright. Um. Okay. So.” Shit. How much could he tell her without either breaking Eddie’s trust or revealing too much. “So there was drama the other night, between Eddie and the boyfriend, you know that much. I won’t say what happened but he didn’t get home until like four in the morning and he called out of work yesterday and today-”

“He called out?!” Robin shrieked, open mouthed. She’d lived with Eddie long enough and been through enough of Steve’s bitching to know just how much Eddie loved that job.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was… it wasn’t good, Birdie, what happened. It was actually really fucking fucked up.”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“So then yesterday he’s trying to sleep it off pretty much and there’s a knock at the door.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah and I go get it because I had assumed it would be Mrs. Henderson with some chicken noodle soup and you know I’d kill my own mother for some of that soup-”

“-I’d kill your mother for some too, yes.”

“-yeah. But it wasn’t Mrs. Henderson, it was Rick, the boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, I don’t know and he was trying to like, bully his way into the apartment to see Eddie and I don’t know what happened with me but-”

“-you went full guard dog protector mode didn’t you?”

“I…” Steve sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah, I did. Why did I do that? It’s none of my business. I don’t even like the guy. Why would I care?”

“Because you always care, Evie. You saw someone who needed help and you helped, it’s what you do.”

Steve scoffed. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m some fucking selfless hero for doing it.”

“Nah, you kinda are.”

“It was just some guy!”

“And you’re just some guy too!”

Steve glared at her, offended. “You take that back.”

Robin looked at him for a moment. “Okay, fair, retracted.”

He gave her a small grin and dragged the sleeves of the sweater over his fingers.

“Hey! Stop, you’ll stretch it!”

“What does it matter if I stretch it, it’s mine.”

“It is not.”

“It is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!” He jabbed her in the side, knowing full well that if they continued the way they were this could go on all night. It had gone on all night more than once.

Robin squawked and immediately lunged, her hands grabbing at the top of his head. 

“No, no! I told you not the hair!”

“And I told you it’s your weakness.” She hissed, her eyes flashing as he scrambled at her wrists before she could get her fingers buried deep enough.

“Boobies!” He shouted, as loud as possible. The effect was immediate, Robin tried to cringe away from him with a look of disgust. “Boobies, boobies, boobies!”

“Oh my god are you five fucking years old? Can you not say tits or breasts or fucking mammary glands or something like a damn adult?” She wrenched her wrists away from him. “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“I’m embarrassed of your face.”

“I’m embarrassed of your weird man hair.” She scowled, patting at his chest. 

“You shouldn’t be. Everyone loves the chest hair. Even the lesbians. It’s like a respect thing.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Steve pouted to himself.

He just wanted to help. He wanted to make sure Eddie was okay, that he would continue to be okay and there was this horrible little part in the back of his head that also wanted to make sure that no one would put their hands on Eddie ever like that again.

It was weird and possessive in a way he really shouldn’t have been feeling about his irritating as shit roommate who didn’t even have the courtesy to play guitar with headphones on half the time.

No matter how good his playing was.

“I can smell your hair burning.”

“What do I do now, Birdie?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I want to help, I guess. But I don’t know how. We don’t even like each other, why would he accept my help?”

“Well… how did he react when you did what you did?”

“He… I guess he… I was going to leave when Rick came to the door and he stopped me. He didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t even look at me but he grabbed onto me and… I think he was scared, Rob. I’ve never seen him scared.”

“Well Steve, I think you’re gonna do what you always do. Help. Whether you know you’re doing it or not, whether you even really mean to, you always help.”

"You're making me out to be some sort of saint."

“I’m really not.” She shook her head. “You’re just… you.”

“Wow, incredible observation there, Birdie.”

“Oh, fuck off and finish this for me.” She shoved the rest of her sub into his hands.

Part 1 Part 3 AO3

@augustjustice @geekymagicalpotato @wormdebut @eddielives1986 @releasethexbarakat @a-little-unsteddie @steddietogo @steddiehyperfixation

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

Divider by firefly-graphics

[aww-canon-no]

Steddie Fic- 9 Stops

9 Stops

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rated: Everyone (but with kissing)

Deaf Eddie, newly deaf Steve, meet cute, modern fic, no upside down

Summary:  And holy shit this might be his chance because��Yeah.  Yep.

Yes.

Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.

Note: You have all been so nice?  Im crying?  This fandom is so soft.  Posting one more Tumblr one-shot tonight.  This time with kissing.I gave you Deaf Steve so now have Deaf Eddie/deaf Steve (big D little d, not an innuendo)

Word Count: 2400

*** 

The train is quiet.  In a literal sort of way, everything is quiet for Eddie Munson who was born deaf and remained deaf despite all the praying and laying hands and shit that adults were always doing at his parents’ church when he was little.

That was before CPS got involved and Wayne stepped in and made things better.

But in a more metaphorical way, the train is quiet because—what most people don’t understand—the Deaf community is loud.  And he means that in every way it’s possible to mean that.  Everything is turned up to max volume so they can feel it.  When they get together it’s big gestures and faces all twisted up in expression and wagging tongues and stomping feet and…it’s a lot.

It ain’t your momma’s sweet little interpreter at Sunday Service kind of deaf.

He doesn’t regret the job working at the center, but he takes the train home instead of carpooling with the other guys because it’s going to get loud again when he meets up with the rest of Corroded Coffin for band practice.  They met at school when Eddie was finally allowed to leave the nonsense of mainstream education he couldn’t actually understand behind him.

Garret wanted to call the band something like Deaf Devils which Eddie flat out refused because he will not—under pain of death or torture—ever be obvious or predictable.

Also why he takes the train.

At least, why he used to.

Now he takes the train because he takes the train.  The Hair, Eddie’s been calling him.  It’s a sign name that Steve Harrington doesn’t actually know about since he doesn’t interact with Eddie.  Eddie doesn’t do intake or adult shit.  He mostly works with newly deafened teens, or teens that have come from hearing homes and are finally allowed to get more involved in the Deaf community.

They call it socializing but it ’s mostly a way for Eddie to be able to run the most badass DnD campaigns known to man and get paid for it.  It’s maybe the sweetest job he’s ever had and there’s no chance in hell he’s ever giving it up.

But he noticed Steve when he showed up—looking like a scared, lost little lamb the way they all do when their world has been flipped upside down.  And Eddie does feel sympathy for him.  Steve looks like the kind of guy Eddie hate. The kind of jock that liked to push Eddie into trash cans and lockers because—surprising absolutely no one—Deaf school had preppy jock assholes too.

So Eddie mostly avoids Steve and his polo shirts and his annoyingly glorious hair for a really long time.  And he definitely doesn’t get soft on the inside whenever he sees the look of frustration on Steve’s face when he comes out of the ASL level one class.

Eddie remembers it pretty well, but not well enough to relate.  He also never lost a sense so he’s not quite sure what Steve’s going through.  

But he’s not a monster.  He feels.

He feels too much sometimes.

He kind of wants to tell Steve that it gets not just a little better, but so fucking much better.  That it’s a big deal that Steve came to the center because most people his age just get some metal and magnets slapped inside their skulls and hope for the best and move on without realizing they don’t actually have to choose between one or the other.

They don’t have to lose one to gain.

Or something poetic like that.

He needs to write that down.  It sounds like it could be a pretty decent song lyric.

Anyway, Eddie used to take the two o’clock train, but now he pushed it to three because that’s when Steve shows up at the station with his head down and his hearing aids off and his fingers all twisting in his lap like he’s trying to quietly practice everything he learned that day.  Eddie notices the shaking, and he notices the dark bags under Steve’s eyes.

Steve doesn’t notice him though.  He’s not quite there yet.  At that place where sight replaces sound naturally, and he starts noticing everything around him without waiting to hear it.  

He can’t help but keep his eyes on Steve, even squashed between two dudes—one of whom is eating legit an actual to-go box full of fettuccini alfredo.

And of course that happens to be the moment Steve finally looks up and sees him.  After six weeks, Steve finally notices.

His lips twitch.  Eddie braces himself because he expects Steve to be maybe angry.  It’s obvious Steve recognizes him.

Then Steve raises a hand—a small and subtle thing.  ‘Hi.’

Eddie snorts.  ‘Hi.’

Steve goes on a face journey which Eddie reads like one of his favorite novels and in spite of himself, he smiles wider.

‘You think this guy would freak out of I took a bite of his food?’ Eddie chances.

There’s no way in hell Steve’s that far along in his lessons, but he watches as Steve’s lips curve around a couple of the words he knows.

‘Don’t understand.  Sorry,’ Steve finally signs, back—still subtle like he doesn’t want to be noticed.  Then he yawns, the kind that Eddie knows probably cracks his jaw.

He stands up without realizing it and moves across to sit beside his not-friend.  He sticks out his fist and they knock knuckles—a fairly safe greeting.

Steve sighs.  ‘Sorry,’ he signs again.

‘I know,’ Eddie tells him.  ‘Give it time.’

Steve must have learned that one from his teacher saying it over and over to his students.  It’s not your average ASL class.  It’s not hearing people trying to get a credit, or start a new job or something.  It’s all people in Steve’s shoes trying to learn how to communicate again without making their brain feel like it’s full of static electricity.

‘You’re tired,’ Eddie signs.

Steve nods, then remembers to respond with a fist.  ‘Yes’

Eddie laughs and shakes his head.  ‘What’s your stop?’  He signs it slowly and fingerspells some so Steve will understand.  Train-STATION, yours, which?

Steve licks his lips, then lifts a hand, pinky touching his thumb.  ‘Sixth AVE.’

Eddie nods decidedly, then shuffles so close their thighs touch.  Steve startles, but Eddie just reaches over and tugs Steve’s head until it falls against him.  ‘Sleep,’ he tells him.  They have nineteen stops to go—and that’s nine past Eddie’s.  But he’s done worse things than ride the train all evening.

Steve stiffens like he’s going to put up a fight for a second, and then his body relaxes.  He’s asleep before stop four.  He’s snoring so loud that Eddie can feel it rumbling against his side by stop seven.

By stop sixteen Eddie hates himself for what he has to do.

At stop eighteen he gently prods Steve who wakes up with a jolt and stares around like he doesn’t know where he is.  Their gazes lock, then his shoulders sag.

‘Thank you,’ he signs.  His fingers are nice.  Lovely, in fact, the way they tip from his chin.  Watching him blossom into the language will be a real treat.

If Eddie’s invited in.

***

So.

Train naps become a thing.

Eddie meets him at the entrance to the station, and Steve tells him one or two facts about his day with his growing vocabulary—and he probably picks up some colorful commentary and slang—and some of Eddie’s home-grown home-signs which is alright by him.  Just…hopefully he doesn’t get yelled at in class for using them.

Because then Eddie will get yelled at later. Scott Clarke will definitely know where they came from.  But it’s kind of hard to care because Steve scrunches up his face when he’s processing something new.

And Eddie’s halfway in love and he’s not interested at all in pumping the brakes, even if Steve seems pretty goddamn straight and will only break Eddie’s heart in the end.

***

It’s twelve weeks now and Steve’s starting to look better.  A little more rested.

It’s a Tuesday the first time Steve doesn’t fall asleep, but he also doesn’t put space between them, either.  He stares at his hands for a while, then he looks up at Eddie.

‘I,’ he starts.  ‘Went deaf overnight.’

That…’sss a surprise.  That’s not super common to just randomly go deaf.  At least, not in someone as young as Steve who can’t be more than twenty-five.  Not that Eddie hasn’t seen stranger things, but still.

He can tell Steve’s not done with his story.

‘Dr told me I had three tumors and I would go deaf eventually,’ he signs it Deaf-future-later like he’s not sure which one is right and Eddie just lets him have it.  His brain’s interpreting it juuuust fine.  ‘I was sad, but okay.’

Eddie nods.  That-that.

Steve smiles and bites his lip before letting it go and it’s all spit-slick and shiny and Eddie wants to taste it so badly.  ‘I fell,’ he signs.

Eddie clarifies that he means he physically fell.

Steve touches the back of his head.  ‘Nineteen STITCHES.  CONCUSSION.’

Eddie winces.  He’s has his fair share of head injuries from mosh pits and other stupid shit, but those were injuries he all-but chose to have.  Steve looks devastated.

‘Dizzy,’ he signs.  ‘VERTIGO.’

Eddie shows him the sign for that and Steve copies it.

‘I couldn’t walk.  Tried everything.  Fail.’

Eddie winces again.  ‘Sorry.’

Steve shrugs.  ‘They removed tumors.  Hearing was gone.’

Eddie tries to think about what life might be like if he just woke up one day and lost a sense.  And okay it would be different since he was already Deaf but he still gets it.  As best as he can, anyway.

He sighs and turns, cupping Steve’s cheek.  Steve leans into the touch like he’s starved for it, and God knows Eddie is, so he’s not in a hurry to pull back.  He grazes his thumb under Steve’s eye.  ‘Sleeping better?’

Steve laughs.  Eddie has some—what the doctors call residual hearing which seems a little ridiculous since Eddie was born this way, but whatever.  It’s enough to hear—just barely—the rumble of Steve’s laugh over the faint noise of the train.  Mostly he feels it against his hand though.

‘Yeah.  Better,’ he repeats.

Eddie sighs, but before he can mourn the loss of their routine, Steve shuffles closer and lays his head down.  Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep, but this is good too.

***

For the first time in six months, Eddie doesn’t come to his ASL class.  And it’s not like Eddie’s waiting…

Which is a lie.  He’s definitely waiting.

The kids give him epic and endless shit for being distracted—to the point he gives up and lets Mike start his own campaign while he paces the room and feels all kind of itchy all over and he hates it.  He hates it so much.

The kids all go home eventually and Eddie gets on the train at three and he stares at the empty seat that Steve should be in and it feels like there’s a sudden canyon or maybe a dark hole that leads into some alternate dimension that stole these moments away from him.

His stop comes and he almost doesn’t get off until he remembers he doesn’t need to wait nine stops past, and nine stops back.  His knees are kind of shaky as he brushes past people and feels the silence kind of profoundly for the first time in maybe ever.

And then the world rearranges.

Steve’s there, leaning against the wall near the stairs with his arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face that’s both terrifying and really, really beautiful.  Eddie feels like he might choke on his own tongue as he stumbles to a halt.

‘Nine.’

Eddie stares at Steve’s hand thinking maybe he’s got the wrong sign.

Then he does it again.  ‘Nine.’

Eddie looks behind him, then at Steve again.

‘Your stop is before mine.’

Eddie flushes.  Hard.  So hard he gets a little dizzy.  ‘Yes.’

Steve swallows hard.  ‘Why?’

Eddie flops his arms and his whole body kind of moves with it, and he wants to pace and be loud with his body but they’re in public.  Like, hearing public.  Someone will definitely call the cops and tell them he’s on drugs, especially since he tends to vocalize a little loudly when he’s uncomfortable and it unsettles hearing people’s delicate little ears.

He takes a breath.  ‘You were tired.’

Steve blinks at him kind of incredulously.  ‘I was tired,’ he repeats.  His face doesn’t give Eddie any indication that it’s a question but…

Maybe it is?

‘You were tired,’ he repeats.

Steve pushes away from the wall.  Stalks a step closer.  Then suddenly his hand is on Eddie’s cheek bare and warm and soft, and he mirrors that gesture, swiping a thumb under Eddie’s eye.  ‘Where is your shoulder?’

‘My—’ Eddie starts.  Stops.  His hand hovers in the air.  His shoulder.  His own Eddie?  ‘I don’t need one.’

‘Bullshit,’ Steve shoots back at him.  It’s an older, more archaic sign he definitely got from Scott, but it hits the mark.

Eddie sighs and shrugs again.  ‘You were tired,’ he just repeats.  He needs Steve to get it.

And oh.  Maybe he does, because he’s pushing in closer again and his hand has fallen to the back of Eddie’s neck and there’s absolutely no signing space between them now.  Steve’s lips move like maybe he’s talking to himself—probably a habit he’ll never totally lose, but Eddie likes it.  He likes the way Steve’s lips dance and he wants to feel them.

And holy shit this might be his chance because…

Yeah.  Yep.

Yes.

Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.

But when it ends, Steve is still warm, and still perfect, and still touching him.

‘Nine stops,’ Steve manages to sign.

Eddie laughs.  ‘Eighteen, if you count the ones on the way back.’

He feels Steve’s groan as he rolls his eyes, then he grins as Steve surges back in to kiss him.

Kiss him.

Kiss him.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter XII: Too Far to Touch

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | read bee's diary

songs: i forgive no one by citizen, dark blue by one step closer, this is why by paramore, blackout by turnstile

chapter tags: awkward situations, weirdo behavior from bee and Eddie, per usual. swearing, adult language, etc | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

summary: really kind of a nothing burger chapter but only bc I plan to inflict pain shortly :p

a/n: lots of dialogue please lmk if u notice any mistakes bc sometimes my brain just GOES. also... I am so sorry for the long wait, i rly hope it was worth it! 

disclaimer: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. THIS WORK IS BEING REPOSTED TO MY NEW AO3! Feel free to check it out! Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. I am satiated by reblogs and comments, so please! Interact with my work! It motivates me to write more, and it helps to know someone out there is reading.

taglist (open!): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r

--

Even for a Monday, Benny’s is packed to the brim with hungry customers. The diner is decorated for Halloween, black and orange streamers lining the grimy windows, plastic jack o’lanterns flickering on the sills. Steve and Robin have already claimed their usual booth in the far corner, crammed into one side next to each other to leave you the space across from them. 

“Alright, spill!” Robin demands before your butt even sinks into the vinyl of the seat. She slides your iced coffee toward you, already fixed the way you like it. 

“Eager, are we? Relax, Rob, we’ll get to it.” You sip your drink as you skim over the menu, a pointless task when you order the same thing every time. 

“Oh, come on, Bee! You have to understand why this is such a big deal!” You glance from her to Steve, who’s been awfully quiet as he sips his steaming cup of coffee next to her. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, huge deal.” He nods, tone unconvincing. Robin rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to you, her face betraying her excitement.

“Can I at least get some sustenance first?” You bite back a laugh as Dory approaches to take your order. Dory’s an older woman, and she’s been at Benny’s for as long as you can remember. 

“Hi, darlin’, what can I get for ya?” She snaps her gum, pen poised to take your order. You ramble your own off quickly, and your friends follow suit. “Comin’ right up.”

“Okay, sustenance is being obtained, now it’s your turn. What went down yesterday?”

You can’t hold them off any longer. “Rob, what is your fixation with this? It was fine, normal! We grabbed coffee, went back to his apartment. Smoked a little, caught up, y’know? Nothing worth writing home about.” You pick at your cuticles, suddenly very aware of the way your friends are staring at you. “What do you want me to say? We had a dramatic argument that ended in make up sex? It was nowhere near that dramatic.” 

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

You choke on your sip of coffee. “What?”

Steve looks at you like his question is worthy of a real response. “Well, with the underlying tension between the two of you, it wouldn’t really be much of a surprise if you did feel compelled to sleep with him.”

“Steve. You sound deranged.” 

He shrugs. “Crazier things have been said.”

“Not by you, and never so casually! Whatever, I don't need your guys’ shit.” You shove another bite of your breakfast into your mouth, ending the conversation. 

Robin scoffs at your comment. “Hey, I didn’t say anything!”

–

“So, when’s the Halloween bash, Stevie?” You ask as the three of you enter the parking lot. “And is there a theme this year? I have to start collecting my costume.” 

Steve shakes his head, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “No theme, I originally wasn’t even gonna throw a party this year.” 

You gasp dramatically, feigning offence. “How dare you say such a thing! This party is the one normal thing I have left in my life.” You pout at your friend, earning a giggle from Robin.

“Which is exactly why I’m still throwing one. Well, that and because I’m holding out hope that Nancy will bring her pretty college friends.” 

“Never change, Steven.” Robin pats his shoulder, shaking her head. “Anyway, I already know what I’m gonna be.” She crosses her arms over her chest, eyeing between you and Steve. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what my costume is?”

“You’re just gonna say ‘It’s a surprise!’ anyway.” Steve accuses.

“It’s a sur– Oh. Shut up!”

You and Steve burst into laughter at Robin’s frustration. Finally, you’re able to speak again. “Well, I still have to figure my costume out. Something that’s relevant enough for people to get it, but still obscure enough that every single frat guy in the room won’t suddenly think he’s allowed to talk to me.” 

“You always have the best costumes, I’m sure you'll think of something.” Robin climbs into Steve’s passenger seat, and you wave as they pull away before getting into your own car. You crank your music, a habit your mother has tried getting you to break since you woke her up with your music coming home at 3am, though you’ve refused to budge. Your car time is your personal time, completely free of judgment from others. Today, you’ve chosen to shuffle your angsty playlist, setting your volume to max as the opening riffs to Citizen floods through the speakers. It’s a short drive, made shorter when you cut through the side streets that are usually less congested during a work day, but you don’t really feel like going back home just yet. Chris is not the person you feel like talking to after yesterday, expecting him to be insufferable with his “told you so”s after telling him about how harmless Eddie is. Maybe you’ll lie just to watch him squirm, you haven’t decided yet. 

Instead, you take yourself to the record store, a treat you haven’t let yourself have in a long enough time. You used to come with Eddie every Friday in high school to check out the new releases and avoid your studies together, but since you’d stopped talking the place has been a sore spot for you. 

The bell chimes as you step inside, where nothing has changed in the past six years except maybe the records on display. Today, the walls are lined with releases from the past few years, including a variant of Paramore’s This Is Why that you don’t have yet. Tim, the owner of the shop, waves at you from where he sits behind the counter, fiddling with his relic of an acoustic guitar. “Mornin’, Bee! Been awhile.” He smiles at you, revealing his yellowed teeth and pink gums.

“Morning, Timmy. Yeah, I know, it’s been way too long. Got anything good in lately?” 

Tim taps his chin with his wrinkly finger before making an “Aha!” sound. “Just got a couple of these in, you heard of ‘em?” He pulls out a record you recognize, but have yet to listen to because you couldn’t find a physical copy, called All You Embrace by a band called One Step Closer. 

“No way, where did you get these?” You hold the record, admiring the packaging, reading the tracklist. 

“They played a show at the Hideout a couple months ago, they sold me a few at a bulk price so I could sell them here. Nice dudes.” Tim nods thoughtfully.

“That’s sick. How much?”

“For you, darlin, consider it a thanks for visiting an old man.”

“Tim, you don’t have–”

He holds his finger up to stop you. “Here, if you wanna do something for me in return, get Munson to buy something or get him outta here, he’s been here since we opened.” He nods his head to the far corner of the store, where you only just now see Eddie picking through the metal records, a massive pair of headphones on his head. 

“Oh, Eddie and I aren’t…” You can’t exactly say you’re not friends anymore, but Tim probably doesn’t care.

Or, you think doesn’t until he’s leaning over the counter. “Don’t tell me you two broke up. I guess that would explain why you’re never in here anymore, I just thought you’d been in New York this whole time. Eddie hasn’t been in much either.”

“And yet, somehow, we’re both here today.” You mumble, mostly to yourself, but Tim hears you.

“Love works in funny ways sometimes.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the geezer. “Tim, Eddie and I were never a couple. You know that, right?”

“Sure, not a couple in the traditional sense, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t once a duo to be messed with! I used to love entertaining you two with my guitars, you were the only ones that seemed to care about what I had to say.”

It softens you, the kindness in this old man’s voice. Adults were never fans of you and Eddie, and it warms your heart to know there was one looking forward to seeing you. “Alright, because you’ve been so nice to me today, I’ll see that Munson buys something.” You leave the record with Tim and approach the corner Eddie is still in, flipping through the Used section as if on the hunt for a specific, rare record that probably doesn’t exist.

You tap his shoulder gently, then with more vigor when he doesn’t turn around. Finally, growing frustrated, you snatch one of the speakers from his ear. “Munson!”

He jumps, spinning himself around as if to swing at you, but immediately lowers his guard when he sees your face. “Jesus Christ, Bee, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Glad I could finally garner your attention. Tim sent me to make you leave. He’s tired of seeing your mug when he looks up from the register.” You press your lips into a thin line to keep from laughing.

Eddie’s wearing a tattered Pixies shirt, and his hair is tied back in a low ponytail. In his hands, he’s holding Chappell Roan’s record along with one you don’t recognize. “Aw, you liked the show that much, huh?” You ask, sliding the album from his grip. “There are a few on here I don’t think she played. You’ll love Naked in Manhattan.” 

Eddie snatches the record back from you. “Don’t judge, I’m a man of vast taste.”

“Who’s judging? I was sent over here by the boss man, okay? I don't care what you spend your money on.” Eddie sends a wave to Tim, who chuckles in response. “What’re you getting, anything?” 

“Tim’s got a record up there for me, I wasn’t planning on getting anything but he got a couple from a band in Wilkes-Barre that I really like. And he has a This Is Why variant I don’t have yet.” 

“Red one?”

You pause. “Yeah, how’d you know?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Saw it when I walked in, debated on picking it up for you but I wasn’t sure if you had it already.”

“Well, you still can pick it up for me, now that you know!” You give him a wide smile, and he snorts. 

“Not a chance.”

You shrug. “Worth a shot. Anyway, quit loitering, Tim’s gonna threaten to ban you again.”

Eddie follows you to the front, placing his records on the counter for Tim to scan. “Long time, Munson. How’s the world treating you?”

You could swear he glances at you before answering, “Better, lately, believe it or not. How’re you doin’, Timmy?”

“Same old. Anything else for you guys today?”

“Yeah, actually, could I get that–” Eddie cuts you off, “I’ll take the red This Is Why variant, please.”

“What if that's what the lady wanted?” Tim scolds him, and you giggle.

“Which is why I’m getting it for her, Timothy.” Eddie crosses his arms as if offended by the assumption. 

“Ah, right, the rare record for your Not-Girlfriend. Bet you they’re her favorite, too.” Tim winks at you. “You young people don’t make any sense to me.” He plucks the record off the top shelf and hands it to you. Eddie pays for it, along with his own, and Tim slides it to you with your other album. “Have a good day, kids.” 

“You too, Tim! Thanks again!” You exclaim as you and Eddie leave the store, Eddie holding the door open for you. 

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know.” You say once you’ve exited. “I have my own money.”

“Pft, whatever. Don’t pretend you’re not pumped that you didn’t spend your own money on it.”

“While I can’t exactly argue, I still don’t see why you did that.”

“Does everything have to have a reason with you?” You can sense you’re irritating him.

“Yes, obviously.”

“What a miserable way to live. Anyway, where to?”

“Where to what?” You open your passenger door, placing the records on your seat.

“Well, you dragged me out of there. I was planning on hanging out for at least another hour, so now you have an hour of my time.”

“Oh, yippee!” You quip, earning the smallest smile from Eddie. “I dunno, I was just gonna go home and play these.”

“I have a better idea.” Eddie has a mischievous look on his face, like he’s got a secret you’re not allowed to know yet.

“Do tell?”

“Nah, it’s better if it’s a surprise. C’mon. I’ll drive.” You are left with no choice but to abandon your car in the lot and follow Eddie to his van. 

–

Eddie drives like he’s not afraid to die. In the ten minutes you’ve been on the road, you’ve counted ten different car horns, and caught several people shouting out their windows, middle fingers angrily shaking in the air. Through it all, Eddie is screaming along to his music, headbanging as his lead foot rests on the gas pedal.

“You are gonna get us killed!” You shriek at some point, your knuckles turning white as you grip the overhead handle.

“Oh, relax! This is nothing, you should see me on the highway.” You can only assume his glove compartment is overstuffed with unpaid speeding tickets. 

“Where are we even going?” You don’t recognize the route he’s taking, twisting and turning down woodsy back roads that are growing scarily narrow as they progress.

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” Eddie cuts the wheel, taking a sharp right back onto a main road, earning a long, angry honk from the SUV behind him. “Besides, if you knew where we were going, you wouldn’t have come.”

“That is so not reassuring.” You grumble, finally looking at him. His cheeks are red, probably because even though it’s forty degrees he’s driving with the window open as he puffs on a cigarette. He has one hand on the wheel, the other out the window as he whips down the street, hair flying in every direction with the wind. “What are you staring at?” His question makes you realize you had, in fact, been staring at him.

“What? Nothing. I’m… nothing.” Real smooth.

“Right. Okay, we’re here!” He turns into a parking lot on an otherwise deserted street, empty save for an old, white van that’s likely seen better days, parked in front of a small, shed-like building with a sign that reads “Vintage” in red, faded paint. “I need some stuff for Steve’s party.”

Oh, come on. “You’re going to that?”

“‘Course I am, how else am I gonna pay rent if not with the money from the rich kids that attend his parties? C’mon. Maybe we can find you something for your costume.” Before you can move, Eddie shoves his van door open and runs around to your side, yanking the door open for you. It gives you pause, but you choose to ignore the way your stomach flips at the gesture. Eddie leads the way inside, where the bell rings as he opens the door. From the counter, an old lady with hair so silver it’s almost blue, looks up from her crossword to greet you.

“Hello, darlings! Anything I can help you find?”

“Not just yet, Murial. Thank you!” Eddie speaks to the woman like an old friend, and you cock your eyebrow at him. “What? Where did you think I got all my classic band shirts from?”

“In all honesty, I don’t think about you that deeply.” You thought he’d gotten them on eBay, but you’re not about to tell him that. 

“Ouch, that one stung.” He chuckles, and you groan at him. “Okay, let me give you the tour. Over here, we have the dusty old knick knacks that are for sure haunted.” Eddie gestures to the metal shelves crowded with porcelain and plaster figurines, some cute while others frighten you to your core. A particular piece catches your eye; a figure of a pierrot clown, painted to look anguished, pouting despite its playful makeup. You pick the doll up, turning it in your hands until you find the price tag, a tiny yellow sticker that reads $5. You decide to carry it with you, just in case.

“Oh, and I’m the freak?” Eddie nods to the clown. “That thing is gonna bring demons into your apartment.”

“Not if I’m nice to him!” The paint on the figure is chipping in places, but you think it adds character. “His name will be Gustav.” You decide firmly, holding him up to Eddie’s face. “Say hello.”

“Will you get it out of my face if I do?” You nod. “Okay, fine. Hello, Gustav.” He says, disdained. “Now, get that thing away from me.” 

Sighing, you lower your clown statue, and Eddie rolls his eyes at you. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, and you can’t decide if it’s awkward or not. Eddie’s eyes scan over the shelves of dusty knick knacks and candles, but yours are stuck on the way his hands keep clenching into fists and back again. “You alright?” You ask as his eyes seem to fixate on a wooden sign with some witty saying on it. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” He moves his stare onto you, causing your chest to tighten. 

“Y- yeah, I’m good. Gonna go look at the clothes.” You turn on your heel, practically galloping away from him. You’re about half a yard away when you hear his heavy boots following you. 

–

“Okay, what about this?” You step out of the dressing room, which is really just a closet with a paper sign taped to it. You’re wearing an obnoxiously bright pair of hot pants, and a glittery tank top.

“No. You look like my mom in high school.” Eddie shakes his head, causing stray curls to fall into his face. You catch yourself staring before it’s been too long.

“Your mom was a beautiful woman, I’m flattered. Okay, fine. I have one more, then it’s back to the drawing board.” You close the door again, and examine your final costume choice; a low cut, sage green dress with dramatic bell sleeves and a flowy skirt. You also somehow managed to find a corset that matches perfectly, a shade of light brown that reminds you of your morning coffee. You step into the dress, careful not to trip on the fabric as you hike it over your thighs, hips, and chest. You slide your arms into the sleeves and feel the soft, light fabric engulf you. Immediately, you love it. In the mirror, the garment hugs your body perfectly, clinging to your curves and fanning out around your feet. You’d wear this every day, if it were practical. “Hey, Ed? Can I get some help?” He doesn’t answer. “Eddie?”

“Sorry, yeah. Can I open the door?”

“Yeah, I’m decent.” Your back is still to the door, but you catch his eye in the mirror as the door opens, and watch as his eyes scan from your face and down your figure, then quickly back up to meet your eyes. “Whoa.”

You scoff. “Can you zip me up?” Silence. “Hello? Earth to Munson?”

“Huh?”

You turn to face him, having to look up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, why?”

“You’re being weird.”

“Am I?” 

“Oh my god. Please just zip me.”

“Okay, sure.” You turn back around. It feels like forever, his calloused fingertips brushing your spine as he slowly pulls the metal zipper up your back. “Tada.” His voice cracks, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat. You turn back to face him, and he won't look at you. 

“How do I look?” You challenge, stepping back to give him a better view. 

He looks at the top of your head when he answers, “Great.” with no enthusiasm.

“You didn’t even look.” You huff, crossing your arms. Where did his attitude come from? 

Eddie takes the quickest look at the dress and nods curtly. “There, I looked. Great, like I said.”

You’re fed up. “Why are you being so fucking weird all of a sudden?”

“I’m not being weird! Bee. Really. The dress looks great.” Before you can argue, he steam rolls you. “You should get it. We should get going, though. I have a shift.”

You don’t argue, just nod as he leaves the dressing room, the door clicking behind him as it closes, leaving you confused and close to tears in a pretty dress. 

–

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

[sunflowergirl522]

Definitely Not Dreaming

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Request from Anon: Harrington!reader, Steve’s little sister. Popular, a cheerleader, first time senior and Chrissy’s best friend. But she has a secret that only her best friend knows. She’s had a crush on Eddie Munson since middle school. She’s afraid to tell him, thinking there’s no way he’d be into her. Until one day in the cafeteria, Jason Carver calls Eddie a freak. She confronts him, and punches him in the face, breaking or spraining her hand/wrist. Guess her little secret is out, and she may never be popular again.

Word Count: 3401

Eddie Masterlist

Popularity basically came hand in hand with being a Harrrington. When you first started highschool, a year after Steve did and without knowing anyone thanks to the private school you had been in, everyone who had adored him immediately decided to adore you as well. Mostly it was to try to get King Steve, a horrible nickname that you still tease him about, to like them. You weren’t complaining at first, it came with plenty of friends and invites to groups and parties, hell cheerleading basically fell into your lap. 

You hadn’t even been looking to join the squad when you first got to Hawkins High, the head cheerleader at the time, Becca, had searched you out after hearing about Steve Harrington's little sister being a freshman. It was some ploy to try to get into his pants but that didn’t make you enjoy it any less. You had never done it before but, and you could blame it on your perky attitude and your energy, you quickly fell in love with cheering. It didn’t matter that it took up a lot of your free time or that most girls on the squad were bitches, it was so much fun and if you hadn’t joined the team who knows if you would’ve become best friends with Chrissy. Robin on the other hand you’re sure you would’ve been friends with either way.

The downside to the popularity, that you’ve complained relentlessly to Steve about, is no one wants to actually get to know you or wants you to actually be yourself. You let one intrusive thought out at a party once and it was like a record scratch moment where everyone in the area looked at you like you were crazy. Since then you’ve kept the real you locked behind this more watered down version and are only really your whole genuine self around Chrissy and Robin, who you were friends with first and will never let Steve forget.

But the worst part about being part of the popular crowd by far was that Eddie Munson avoided you like the plague. It seemed like anytime you tried to approach him he’d veer some other way or seemingly disappear in the crowd of students. It’s not like you could blame him, not completely at least, you’ve seen how everyone treats him. You just wish he’d give you a chance to show him you’re not like everyone else.

You have the biggest crush on the older boy. It started years ago when you attended the talent show Hawkins middle school had to watch Steve. You watched his band perform with stars in your eyes before having to run after a freaking out Steve due to your parents lack of caring. After hyping him up as much as you could and getting him excited all over again you bumped into the big brown eyed boy and talked to him until your brother took the stage. You never interacted with him after that and had almost completely forgotten about the small silly crush until you happened to spot him in the hall your first day of freshman year.

You hadn’t recognized him at first but how could you? It was the first time in three years that you saw him. But then he threw his head back in laughter in the boyish way you used to replay in your head daydreaming about the boy you met once and you immediately knew who he was. 

Your crush has since then come back full swing and gotten worse. He’s just so pretty and even though he makes himself seem scary you know he’s still so sweet. The evidence was there when he approached Jonathan when Will was missing to offer him whatever support he might need and more recently in how he’s really helped the kids you’ve come to love like your own siblings feel accepted in their new environment. Both instances cause you to want to let out a dreamy sigh just thinking about them. 

Steve makes a joke here or there about the crush you had when you were younger but hasn’t realized yet that it still exists. But really Chrissy and Robin are the only ones who know about it. You don’t keep it a secret because you fear losing your popularity, if they stop liking you just because of who you like then good riddance, no you keep it secret because if it got out to him you think you might just die. To you the idea that maybe he would ever like you too seems completely impossible. A fact that is so funny to you seeing as you’ve literally helped the kids fight monsters. And if that’s not impossible, nothing should be.

“Earth to Y/n!” Chrissy waves her hand in front of your face to get your attention away from Eddie down the hall back to whatever she was saying.

“I’m here, I’m here! What is it?” She laughs as you jump and turn to face her trying to act like you’ve been paying attention the whole time.

“You were not! Stop ogling your boyfriend and start hyping yourself up for the pep rally at the end of the day.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You murmur and take one last glance at the boy laughing with Dustin at the kids locker. “What’s the rally for again?”

“Introducing this year's basketball team and celebrating the football team's undefeated victory.”

“Oh yeah. I’m so excited to cheer for Lucas. He's been so happy about making the team.” He had been over your house almost everyday for a month to play with Steve to get ready for tryouts. And as far as you know you were the first person he told that he made the team. He had been practically giddy with his happiness.

“I just hope Jason doesn’t go overboard with hazing this year like last time.” Last year it had been so bad that two freshmen quit right before the first game. They just barely had a full team for it.

“I swear if he makes Lucas hate the game I’ll kill your boyfriend myself.” You’re already on the brink of hitting him or something with how he treats everyone who isn’t part of the “it crowd”. You’re still not even sure what Chrissy sees in him but that’s a battle you lose every time you bring it up.

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs as she closes her locker not wanting to get into it with you. “Now come on, let’s get to the cafeteria before it gets too crowded.” 

You follow behind her. It’s not that the two of you want to beat the crowd for the line, you pack yourself more food than you can eat because Chrissy’s mom packs her basically scraps to eat and you want to make sure she eats more than a handful of carrots. The two of you just hate maneuvering through students holding trays. As the two of you sit down in your usual seats you hope Mike is there early enough it’s easy to spot him so you can give him the lunch he forgot in your car today. 

“Mike!” You get up when you spot him walking towards their table with Lucas and head his way, lunch bag in hand. You smile and wave to Lucas as you pass each other so you can stop in front of Mike.

“What’s going on over there Sinclair?” Eddie asks when Lucas sits down nodding his head in your direction. “Mike having issues?” 

“What, no it’s just Y/n.”

“I know, Harrington's sister. Why’s that happening?” He motions again to your laughing form and Mike’s smile at being handed a brown paper bag.

“I don’t know man it could be anything. Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t.” He does. Because he cares about if anyone other than him gives Mike a hard time. But also because he remembers the little girl he met all those years ago and how sweet he had thought she was and the big crush he had on her. Kids were cruel to him even back then so you had been like a breath of fresh air and after losing you in the crowd when you went back to take your seat to watch Steve perform he searched for you relentlessly in the halls of Hawkins Middle School just for you to not be there. And then you showed up here your freshman year and immediately joined the crowd that has tried to make his life hell for so long and he thought that sweet girl was gone. 

And then he met Dustin, Mike, and Lucas and after hearing them talk about you between themselves he realized you were still a big sweetheart. And has since noticed how you give Chrissy half your lunch almost everyday and how you don’t laugh along with the others when they’re harassing another student and have even just walked away on occasion. Some days when it’s really bad he’s watched you get up and move to sit with the band kids where you look happier and more comfortable.

As you take your seat next to Chrissy again you try not to make it obvious as you look over to watch the table, specifically Eddie, greet Mike.

“Pretty sure he was just watching you again.” 

“Shut up Chrissy, he doesn’t watch me.” You groan and roll your eyes before getting your own lunch out and passing half your sandwich over to her. “He avoids me like he’ll catch a disease if we even walk down the same hallway.” She always tries to tell you that he watches you when you’re not paying attention but if that was true he wouldn’t turn as soon as he sees you in the direction he’s heading.

“Hey babe.” Jason greets Chrissy as he sits at the end of the table. “Y/n.” 

“Jason.” You hold in your scoff as his neanderthal friends sit down with him. You scooch closer to Chrissy as Andy sits next to you invading your space. You’d be scared of him if you haven’t witnessed Eddie fighting him in the past and how he backs off now as soon as Eddie starts moving towards him.

“Hey doll face.” He leans in closer to you like he normally does. He has the audacity to think the two of you should get together because you’re both best friends with Chrissy and Jason. You just wish Patrick would’ve been the one to get here before him like he’s been trying to do. “How bout you and me go to the drive in tonight?”

“How about no. I think Patty’s free tonight, you should try asking her.” You bring attention to your squadmate who you know has a thing for the idiot next to you.

“Hey!” Patrick squeezes in across from you. “Where’s Lucas at?” That gets Andy’s attention away from you.

“Yeah, where’s the fresh meat?”

“At the freaks table.” Jason joins in as he spots Lucas and you send Chrissy a look knowing that something is about to happen that’ll make you mad. “Sinclair! You don’t belong over there with the freakazoids anymore, you’re one of us now.” Lucas looks over confused and obviously not wanting to leave his friends. With his friends jeering and support Jason gets more arrogant and egotistical obviously enjoying all the positivity he’s getting from the table of cheerleaders and jocks. “If you don’t sit with us, you’re not on the team.”

Lucas’s eyes go wide in shock and he murmurs an unseen apology to his friends before gathering his lunch up and standing to move. You gasp at Jason's threat which goes unheard to everyone but Chrissy, drowned in the cheers and laughter, who shares a stunned look with you and grabs onto your wrist in her shock. Your chair scraping on the ground as you stand up cuts through the noise and brings almost the whole room's attention to you.

“You have to be out of your fucking mind! What the hell do you think you’re doing threatening him like that?” You don’t see it but Robin stands up ready to get you out of there if need be once you step around Chrissy to get closer to the man himself. Eddie gets up as soon as Jason’s attention turns to you.

“It’s my team I can decide who stays on it or not.” You make a failing buzzer noise causing him to flinch.

“Wrong. Last I checked you weren’t the coach and Lucas was already officially added to the team. You can’t just decide he’s off it just because he’s friends with people you don’t like.” Your anger just keeps boiling up in you and your instinct to protect your found family comes front and center.

“Nothing's official until the pep rally announcement, if he wants to sit with a bunch of loser weirdos then he can stay a fucking loser weirdo.” You go to lunge for him but someone grabs your middle to stop you. Jason’s so angry that you even tried to do something that he doesn’t even notice who pulled you back. “You little-”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Eddie steps up so you’re positioned behind him and he’s the one staring down Jason. He takes a step back and Eddie smirks before putting his hands on your shoulders to turn you towards the door. “Just keep walking sweetheart.” He speaks so only you can hear him.

“Yeah, go run off with king freak!” You turn around and swing without thinking twice about it, landing your punch to Jason's cheek before Eddie grabs you and forces you out of the room. “Fucking bitch!” If Eddie wasn’t so focused on getting you away from him he’d punch Jason himself. Robin heads over to collect your stuff glaring at Jason before following the two of you out hoping to catch up before losing you becomes an option. 

“Stupid fucking airhead who does he think he is?” You grumble to yourself letting Eddie guide you outside. “Shit that hurt.” You shake out your hand as he has you sit at one of the picnic tables. You were used to swinging bats and shit not punching things.

“Flex your hand for me.” Eddie lightly holds onto your arm right below your wrist while crouching in front of you. You nod and do it the rest of you freezing because wow he’s so close to you right now. And his brown eyes are observing your hand and wrist like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “Good. Can you rotate your wrist? Any pain there?”

“It’s not like a this is gonna hurt in the morning kind of hurt but it is a why the hell would you do that kind of hurt.” He chuckles at your observations and it’s like a whole beehive formed in your stomach.

“You definitely didn’t break anything then, and I doubt you sprained anything either. Can’t imagine a girl like you goes around punching people often so that’s good.” He balls your hand into a fist oh so gently to make sure you can still form one before moving it around to double check. And suddenly the bees are swarming out of the hive and up your chest.

“I remember you, you know.” The words just fall out of your mouth and you have no control over it.

“What?” At this Eddie looks up to meet your eyes with his own.

“From years ago, we were still kids and I was there to watch Steve in the talent show. And I bumped into you at one point and we just sorta talked for a while before he was called onto the stage. I thought you were just the cutest back then, cuter now with all this hair though. Oh God I’m gonna shut up now.” Eddie laughs at your short ramble and lets go of your hand even though he’d like to keep holding it.

“I remember you too.” He rests his arms on his knees as he slightly leans back.

“You do? Then why do you avoid me every chance you get? We could’ve been friends this whole time.”

“When I first found out you were gonna be here for your high school years I wasn’t planning on it. But then you got here and immediately started hanging around the crowd you do and I don’t know, I figured that you would maybe join them in their taunting and teasing.” You go to speak but he puts a hand over your mouth so he can finish. “So I just decided to avoid you completely so my memory of you being so nice wouldn’t get tainted. But then I’d see you help other kids and give Chrissy half your food during lunch and I realized you were still probably the nicest one of them. And then Dustin and his friends started this year and they constantly talk about you among themselves or bring you up in happy memories. I wanted to approach you then but I haven’t wanted to bring you into all the shit they throw at me.”

“Welcome to being a Harrington, popularity just falls into your lap whether you want it and enjoy the people around you or not.” You speak when he finally takes his hand away. “Besides I think I may have just fucked that up for me myself.”

“If you don’t like any of them why stay around them?”

“They aren’t all bad, Chrissy’s my best friend and Patrick is nice when you get to know him. Some other girls on the cheer team are alright too. It’s just the majority that are dicks. I just, I love cheering so much that I’m willing to force myself to be around them.” 

“Well you’ll have me and the guys if that’s so.” It’s silent for a minute before Eddie speaks again.

“I tried to search for you, after the talent show. I’d scour the halls between classes and pray I’d spot you.”

“I went to a private all girls school, something about my parents wanting me to be proper.”

“It’s a shame, I had the biggest fucking crush on you sweetheart.” You gasp and before you know it your hands are grabbing his jacket and pulling him up to connect your lips.

“Shit, sorry.” You pull away as soon as you realize what you’re doing. “I just, I had a big crush on you too.”

“Don’t be sorry.” One of his hands cradles your face while the other holds onto the back of your neck pulling you into another, more desperate kiss. Your hands immediately go to his hair that you’ve been dying for years to play with as you match his energy.

“There you are, I grabbed your stuff since you left without it. Woah, I’m definitely interrupting something.” Robin comes out with your book bag in hand, freezing when she sees what’s happening. The two of you part at the sudden intrusion and look at Robin eyes wide. “Oh Steve’s definitely gonna kill one of you.” 

“Who’s Steve killing?” Chrissy appears next to Robin slightly out of breath from chasing her down. “Oh.” She takes in the two of you slightly breathless and Eddie’s hands on your bare thighs where they fell to after breaking apart. “Oh.”

“We don’t actually have time for this. Isn’t the cheer squad practicing with the band crew before the rally?”

“Yeah, we gotta go.” Chrissy grabs you and pulls you up to get to the gym.

“Bye Eddie, see you at the pep rally?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there.” He has just enough time to see you smile at him before the door closes behind you. Robin sighs at seeing his own dopey smile.

“I’ll tell her to meet you after so you can get her number or something.”

“Thanks Buckley! You’re the man!” She rolls her eyes and disappears leaving Eddie to dramatically fall back onto the concrete in disbelief.

“First I actually punched Jason and then that? Chrissy, pinch me I think I might be dreaming.” She does so, making you yelp. “Definitely not dreaming then.” You make a show of pumping your fist in the air causing your friend to laugh before you go back to normal to face the rest of the cheer squad.

Eddie Taglist (31/40): @sadbitchfangirl​ @notbeforelong​​​​ @navs-bhat​ @emotionaldreamer​ ​​​​​  @gaysludge​​​ ​@eddiethesexy​ @mazerunnerrose​ @midnightsgetawaycar  @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe @jesssssmaybankk @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead @bl4ckt00thgr1n @eli-flower @canyonmooncreations @witchwolflea @emxxblog @chaoticgood-munson

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes