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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months

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CH10. Cheque, Please! | The Menu [2.2K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

ONE YEAR LATER

The diner was packed.

Tables were full, the large room a buzz of chatter and music, the speakers playing an old sixties bop. It was a familiar sight, one that happened more often than not since Jim sold the diner. The new owner ripped the place apart, down to its old bones before he put his life savings into it.

New floors, new tables and chairs, artwork on the walls that were signed by Argyle, a photo of the whole staff taken and framed by Jonathan, Jim Hopper at the forefront, a wide smile on his face on the last day before his retirement. The bulbs in the neon sign outside had been replaced so it no longer flickered, the green and blue glow of it now announcing the diner’s new name, proud and bright for everyone to see.

Eddie’s Slice Of Chicago.

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out as you entered the kitchen empty plates piled high in your arms and Jonathan took them from you with practised ease.

Steve was on the grill, still hesitant and not as fast as Argyle, but he was flipping burgers quicker than he had last week. His chef whites were brand new, his name badge shiny and his front of house position taken over by Nancy. Everyone was in new uniforms, freshly pressed and a sage green, aprons still without stains and a pocketful of pens that didn’t run out of ink too quickly. Robin was taking orders, laughing with a family from out of town, letting their toddler grab at her finger as she promised them to return soon with their pizzas and shakes. Dustin was helping Max run a large order to a table of backpackers, a border collie under the table at their feet, getting its ears scratched by the new start, Mike.

There was a sign on the staff notice board, up beside the employee of the month, a piece of ripped paper with the words “SIXTY FOUR DAYS SINCE THE LAST FREEZER BREAKDOWN.” The rest of the space was filled with staff photos, polaroids and prints of the group at a fourth of July picnic, a barbecue at Jim’s in the summer, huddled around the kitchens countertops in the winter, drinking from mugs filled with Argyle’s homemade horchata, the frame that held Billy’s scrawled termination letter, an old napkin that held a small conversation in pen.

It felt more like home than ever. Even when Eddie wasn’t there.

Everyone answered to you in his absence, unofficially in charge when the boss wasn’t here. It had taken some getting used to, hell, you’d even tried to pawn off the responsibility to Nancy, or Steve, anyone who’d been at the grill longer than you had. But Nancy was part time, back at college during the week, taking Robin on dates in the evenings and Steve was too busy being trained as a new prep chef to worry about invoices and deliveries.

So you stepped into the role cautiously, softening to the idea when Eddie kissed you something fierce and told you that there wasn’t anyone else he trusted to do the job. His acceptance letter had come the month after taking over the diner. A thick, white envelope that lay heavy on your doormat because he’d finally moved in, sharing your small apartment with you like he did everything else.

Clothes. Jewellery. Books. Records. Food. Kisses.

Vincennes University offered Eddie the chance to do what he hadn’t been able to before. Refining his craft, learning new skills, working in a state of the art kitchen with equipment he’d come home and gush to you about. The diner was doing well enough that tuition wasn’t a worry anymore and suddenly, the long commute into Indianapolis for classes four days a week seemed worth it. Eddie was passing with flying colours, receiving accolades and opportunities at every given moment and when he came home, exhausted but happy, he came home to you.

Bone tired, he’d slip into the apartment, socked feet padding gently over the floorboards, Tupperware full of something delicious to be stacked in the fridge. He’d find you curled up somewhere, a black cat called Basil in the nook of your bent legs. He’d kiss you sweet, he’d kiss you soft, warming you up to a simmer until you forgot how much you’d missed him that day.

It was all worth it.

“Table eighteen wants extra hash browns and booth six needs two pepperoni’s and the Hawkins special, chefs,” you called to Steve as you slapped the orders onto the bar.

“Got it,” Steve and Argyle called back, one a little more nervously than the other but it was okay, ‘cause Eddie was home soon.

Eddie was home soon.

He’d called from a pay phone outside of the school, voice buzzing with excitement, with pride, and yours mirrored his back. He’d be on the train soon, he’d meet you at the apartment, if you could get away early. So you handed your keys to Nancy and she grinned, knowing there was a cause for celebration waiting at home for you. You drove Eddie’s van back along the road, coming into town on the familiar stretch, passing Wayne’s, the trailer park you both visited every Sunday for dinner.

The apartment door was unlocked, dimly lit in the early fall gloom, already smelling like garlic and tomatoes, like fresh bread and the scent of Eddie cologne that lingered on his jacket that hung in the hallway. Eddie’s records were in the shelves by your books, his guitar hanging from a hook in the tiny office room, his shoes on the bench by the door. He’d transformed your kitchen when he’d moved in, a decision that had been all too easy to make. There were pots and pans hanging from the rack, shiny, sharp knives that he was scared of you using without him there, jars and tubs of ingredients stacked high in the fridge and the pantry. There were fresh herbs in planters on the window sill. The radio always played.

The kitchen always felt like the heart of the home.

That’s where you found Eddie, sweater sleeves rolled up and grinning at you from the stove top, a large spoon in hand as he mixed in some fresh rosemary to the pot of sauce. He greeted you with a glass of wine, the cheap stuff that you liked best, catching you in a kiss before you could bring the cup to your lips.

He kissed you soft, kissed you sweet, humming when you laughed into his mouth, his free hand slipping inside of your shirt to ghost his fingers over your ribs.

“Hi,” you whispered. You’d never tire of this. This warmth, this kind of greeting, this feeling of coming home. “Good day?”

Eddie nodded, stealing another kiss, catching the corner of your mouth. He gazed at you, eyes shining with excitement and you could practically feel the buzz in his bones for what he was about to say.

“I got it.”

You blinked, once, before your smile turned into a grin and it stretched wide. You barely had the common sense to place your wine on the countertop before you launched yourself at the boy, your arms wound round his neck as your crushed your face into his curls. Eddie whooped, a joyful thing as he lifted you off your feet and grinned against your throat.

“You got it,” you whispered back to him, everything in you frilled with awe and pride.

“I got it,” he repeated again. His voice sounded thick.

The internship with Chef Emmelie was something that everyone in Eddie’s class was vying for. Eddie had spent an insane amount of time on his application, using you as his own personal taste tester in both work and home. New recipes were concocted, old dishes were reworked and it had all paid off. Eddie had been hand picked to work alongside one of the country’s greats, assisting in setting up a new restaurant, a fine dining establishment that promised to deliver nothing but the best cuisine to the masses. Eddie would help create the menu, and hopefully, maybe, eventually, take over as head chef.

It was another level of surreal.

“I knew you would,” you mumbled into his neck, pulling back only to crush Eddie’s cheeks in the palms of your hands and give him a kiss that ducked his breath away. His lips tasted salty, but perhaps that was your own tears you could taste. Eddie just held onto you tighter, his stew mix bubbling away without any attention. “Where is it? Have they told you where you’re setting up?”

You’d held Eddie’s hand as he clutched his application letter and promised him that no matter where they sent him, you’d follow. The only thing that tied you to Hawkins, was the boy and Basil was easy enough to smuggle into a cat carrier, once you could catch him. Wayne had squashed any hesitancy from Eddie immediately, waving him off and saying that there would be private jets for each of you once he hit the big time as the new celebrity chef. And of course, there was the diner.

Eddie laughed then, a breathy, disbelieving thing and he finally shuffled to settle you onto the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen. He nudged his way in between your legs, sniffling when Basil appeared to wind around his own ankles and the only sounds were the purring of the cat and the simmering of dinner. You held your breath, brows raised, expectant.

London? Dubai? Paris? Los Angeles?

“They wanna set up in Chicago.”

—————

Going back to the city you left was a lot less daunting with Eddie by your side.

Wayne moved out of the trailer park and into your apartment, something that made leaving a little easier for Eddie. He still owned the diner, and promised to stop by at least a few times a month if scheduling around the new restaurant would allow. He’d found a new manager, a woman from town called Joyce who loved to bake and knew enough about taxes and accounting that she didn’t fuck up order and invoices. She loved the place like Eddie did, promised she’d do it proud.

(She met Jim on Sunday in summer and after she served him her famous cherry cheesecake, one date in the park had turned into three, into five and now they were inseparable. They spent most of their time walking around town, visiting farmers and Jim enjoyed his retirement by helping Joyce create new desserts for the diner.)

Eddie’s internship came with an apartment in the suburbs, a small townhouse that was far enough from the hustle of the city that you felt more at home than before. It was less bright, less loud and Basil had a garden to roam in, a bench beside a vegetable patch he could bathe in the sun from.

It had a pantry and old oak floors, a huge window that looked out onto the street that was lined with cherry trees, and a nook in the living room that you liked to read in. You found a job, pretty easily, a vintage bookstore on the edge of town that smelled like coffee and cinnamon, old pages and older stories. It was owned by an old man who let his dog sleep under the front desk, who brought in pastries for breakfast and made you sweet tea in the summer.

The restaurant opened in the spring. Hit headlines the following day, praising the special on the menu made by newcomer chef, Edward Munson. By the summer, the heat was climbing and so was Eddie’s popularity. He was running the restaurant, got to create a new menu every six weeks and the waitlist was booked out until Christmas. He told you he loved you every time you paid him a visit, on your lunch break, a whisper between a kiss hello and goodbye in the kitchen, coy whistles from his staff that he burned pink at.

And when you both drove back to Hawkins for long weekends and holiday stays, you crammed yourselves and Basil into your old apartment with Wayne, packed his freezer full of food and tried to convince him to take in one (maybe two) of the strays from the trailer park to keep him company.

You spent the Fourth of July with the diner crew, in the backyard of Jim and Joyce’s new home, sharing Polaroids and newspaper clippings of the restaurant, of your new home, Eddie’s menu. Steve was in awe but nothing could beat the look of pride on your boyfriend’s face when Steve told him he’d mastered a French omelette. Argyle was running the kitchen, Nancy had been promoted to assistant manager, part time or not, and Robin had helped Jonathan in running a Sunday morning coffee club, where Hawkins residents got to taste test new bean flavours over a pastry breakfast and some town gossip.

Eddie didn’t scowl much, not anymore.

And when you next bumped into Chrissy, you waved at her from under the tuck of Eddie’s arm, diamond ring glinting on your left hand in the sun. She didn’t have much to say to you, not after that.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

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You Are Mine part 3

Second day is an early call too. They are going to shoot a bunch of scenes of them hanging out between shows, loitering on the bus, playing d&d, and going to weird little dinners, all things they actually do when on tour.

It’s even better than the day before, Robin and Steve get along so well with the band it feels like they’ve been friends for years.

Since their conversation won't be distinguishable in the video, Argyle tells them they can talk about whatever and just be a little more emphatic when talking so it reads better on camera.

A direction that apparently they don't need at all because they are both so expressive. And so, they actually get to chat and get to know each other better, laughing and joking all through the day.

Robin, who is a ‘raging lesbian’ (her words) is fucking adorable and bizarre, her energy is contagious and nerve-racking. She’s finishing a career in linguistics, can speak fluently in like six languages, and is apparently a certified genius.

She’s also head over heels obsessed with her girlfriend, and won’t stop talking about her. Vicky is a nurse student, one of Steve’s classmates actually.

‘Steve is a fucking nurse student, why is that hot? Why does he find that so hot? Jesus’.

Steve is much quieter than Robin, especially in comparison. But he’s just, or even funnier. Eddie can see how observant he is, listening attentively and waiting for his moment, because he’s mostly quiet but when he speaks he always says the perfect thing.

It’s like every time he talks Eddie can see him dropping an imaginary mike on the floor. It’s fascinating honestly.

He is incredibly sweet too. Eddie can tell, by how his eyes light up when they are placed in a scene meant to look like they are playing Dungeons and Dragons and he goes on a tangent about the kids he used to babysit when he was younger, that they like to play too, how they drove him insane and how he never lost touch with them after they grew up, how they are all seniors in high school now, how proud he is of them. It’s so fucking cute.

They get a good laugh imagining the kids' reactions to seeing them in the video, Steve laughing so hard he cries when Robin starts imitating the expression of one of them finding out Steve made out with his favorite singer.

And they haven’t even talked about or planned that scene yet, it’s meant to be shot tomorrow, but when he hears them talking about it, it fills Eddie up with antici…pation. He’s dying to kiss Steve and he can’t stop thinking about it.

♫

After the lunch break, they shoot a bunch of scenarios of Eddie sneaking into various places, the bus, a bathroom, a changing room, and so on. Since Robin and Steve are practically the same height is easy to cheat the camera into only showing the back of the shirt that says ‘crew’ making it impossible to know which one of them he’s hooking up with until the end of the video.

He has a lot of fun pushing Steve into different corners of the set, and Steve does too judging from all his cute little laughs between scenes.

Argyle calls it a day late afternoon, he’s happy and excited, says he has a really good feeling about this,

“Not many scenes left to shoot, mostly you two,” he said pointing at Steve and him, “So we can start mid-morning tomorrow. Get some rest my dudes, love you” and dismisses them.

Eddie gets distracted talking with Argyle so when he gets back to the changing room there’s no one there, except… Steve.

He’s meticulously fixing his hair in the mirror and he’s humming the video’s song. Of course he is, Eddie thinks amused, he’s heard it so many times by now. He leans on the doorway watching Steve’s reflection, waiting for him to notice Eddie, but Steve doesn’t see him right away, and thinking he’s alone, he starts singing.

I don’t want to hide anymore,

I want the whole world to know,

That you are mine,

Are you mine, please be mine, you are mine.

It’s his song, but it sounds nothing like it. The chorus of You Are Mine is loud, angry, desperate but what Steve is singing sounds so soft, so beautiful. It sounds like one of those slow acoustic covers that usually play in coffee stores and it’s funny, Eddie despises those kinds of covers, but Steve’s?

Steve’s he could listen to all the goddam time.

He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn't notice when Steve finally sees him, he only looks up when the singing stops.

Steve is smiling at him bashfully through the reflection in the mirror, blushing prettily.

Smiling back he tells Steve, “I’m surprised you are not sick of it yet,”

He pushes himself off the doorframe and walks inside, hovering over Steve since he’s sitting on the only makeup chair.

Steve shrugs as he stands up and leaves the chair to Eddie, going around the room to grab his things. Eddie can’t help but feel a little disappointed, he kind of wanted Steve to keep him company, but to his surprise, Steve doesn't leave immediately, and it’s his turn to hover slightly close.

“It’s a really catchy song,” Steve says and Eddie snorts because, no, it’s not. But he just smiles again and says,

“Well, thank you.”

“You wrote it?” Steve asks tilting his head to the side and it’s fucking unfair how cute he looks when he does it.

Eddie just nods, because speaking hard when cute boy near. Man he usually has so much more game, what is it about Steve that just makes him feel so giddy?

“It must be about someone very special,” Steve says and there’s a question hidden somewhere in there.

And Eddie wants to tell him ‘I wrote it for you’ because it feels like he did. He wrote the song thinking about a concept, an ideal, someone he would truly want, and he genuinely feels he was conjuring up Steve in his mind. Even before he met him.

But instead, he shakes his head and says, “It’s hypothetical, there- there’s no one.”

And Steve smiles at him, his smile getting bigger slowly and his cheeks redder as he looks down for a second before staring at Eddie through his lashes, “Good” he says in an almost whisper and then leaves the room.

And Eddie thinks maybe all the songs in their next album will be about Steve.

to be continued

part 1: ♫

part 2: ♫

part 3: is this

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #robin buckley #i wrote something #did yall like my song??

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andvys · 1 year

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We'll burn the sky | part fourteen

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, alcohol, heartbreak, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader

Summary: The hope of things getting better gets crushed too soon.

Word count: 6k+

Author note: In the fic, readers dad sang the song 'Hey Jude' by The Beatles. Also shoutout to @mysticmunson who made an article and a cover for a magazine for this fic!

Series Masterlist

It took a lot of convincing for you to join Eddie and the others for their friends' Christmas. While you got along with all of them and became friends with them quickly, you still felt like you would be intervening. They have been friends for years and you had only joined their group recently. None of them accepted a no from you though, the teens were begging you to come and so were Eddie and Robin. You and Steve haven’t talked since Wednesday night and you began to miss him.

Now you are here, surrounded by your new friends at Robin’s place. Her living room smells like the pine from the Christmas tree, freshly baked cookies and a hint of cinnamon and pumpkin spice from all her candles.

She has a small apartment but it’s cozy, a bunch of movies and books are all over the place, some are on the shelves, others are piling up on the floor. You checked them out the moment you stepped into her apartment, getting excited over all the horror movies she had collected.

You finally met Jonathan and his friend from college; Argyle, who pulled you into a conversation right away, enthusiastically asking you questions about the tour. You settled beside him on the couch, quickly forgetting about all the heavy thoughts that lingered in your mind.

Steve kept looking at you all evening, eying you with an unsure look in his eyes, he wanted to talk to you but couldn’t bring himself to, he was too nervous. Even though you told him that you were okay and that everything was fine between you, he didn’t believe it and he still doesn’t. The fear that he messed up completely and broke your trust makes him feel so unbelievably angry with himself.

He was supposed to be your safe place, the one who protects you from all the pain and yet he hurt you. He knows he did.

“Hey Dingus,” Robin whispers. She nudges his shoulder and offers him a drink.

He looks at her and then he looks down at the glass in her hand, eying the beverage. “Eggnog?” He asks, already taking the drink from her hand.

“Yup.”

“Cool,” he mumbles. Raising the cup to his lips, he looks back at you as he takes the first sip. You are laughing at something Argyle said, the man beside you looking proud at his jokes.

Robin stares at him. She pities him, knowing that he likes you and that he is beating himself up for what happened two nights ago. You are not mad at him, you told her that and she told him that but he doesn’t believe it.

“You should talk to her.”

“How?”

“Just talk to her the way you always do,” she mumbles.

“Yeah but how do I approach her?”

“Just like always, like ‘hey honey, can we talk?’” Robin says in a deep voice.

Steve scrunches his face up, furrowing his brows. “I do not sound like that,” he mumbles.

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!” She exclaims with a teasing look on her face. “You always have that smirk on your face too, flick your hair and put your hand on your hip like a mom.”

“What? I– no!”

She laughs at him, drinking her eggnog and looking behind her best friend’s shoulder with a knowing look on her face.

“What are you smirking at?” He mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Robin raises her brows and tilts her chin, gesturing to something behind him. Before he can turn around, he hears your voice.

“Steve?”

Suddenly, he feels nervous again, in a way he hasn’t felt in a while. He turns around, trying to force a smile on his face when he looks down at you. He almost expects to see something negative in your eyes, disgust, anger, hate but he finds none of those, he only finds softness in them.

“Can we talk?” You ask with shyness in your voice, something so unusual for you.

He nods, eyes softening as he watches you sigh in relief. You take his hand and lead him to the quiet corner in Robin’s living room, you both sit on the window nook.

He doesn’t look at you, not yet. Instead, he looks around the room. Max is talking to Jonathan and Nancy. Argyle is now leaning against the kitchen island, joking around with Eddie and Dustin. The others are on the couch and on the floor, seemingly in a heated conversation about holiday movies.

He feels your eyes on him and he finally turns to face you. You eye him with an apologetic look in your eyes.

What do you have to feel apologetic for? He is the one who messed up, Steve thinks.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, chuckling.

You nod.

“Why are you so nice, why are you looking at me like that?” He asks. He feels genuinely confused. You should be angry at him, you shouldn’t be so nice, you shouldn’t look at him like that.

“I don’t want you to feel bad about what happened, Steve.”

“We– I messed up,” he mumbles, shaking his head a little as he stares at you with a frown on his face. “You– I didn’t even make sure that you were okay with it–”

“I was okay with it.”

“But I still feel bad.”

“You don’t have to, I promise. I just want to go back to the way things were.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

You look at Nancy, the girl that told you about the apparent feelings Steve harbored for you. With a nervous glance and an unsure look on your face, you turn back to him.

Should you ask him?

He knows it, he knows that you want to ask something. He can tell by the furrowed brows and the curiosity in your eyes.

“A-Are we okay?” You ask the questions that you didn’t mean to ask.

His gaze softens and he finally moves to touch your hand, something he wasn’t sure about at first.

“Of course, we’re okay, honey.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, he keeps his eyes locked with yours, “but what do you really wanna know?”

Your eyes widen a little, something that makes him chuckle.

“Come on, ask what you wanna ask, it’s okay, I won’t be–”

“Do you have feelings for me?” You blurt out in a whisper, already blushing.

His eyes widen, lips parting and his cheeks grow red. “W-What? Who told you that?”

You grow nervous, your heart is beginning to race in your chest, you don’t want to hurt him, you don’t want to break his heart, he means too much to you.

“I– no one,” you whisper, looking down at his hand, “I’m just wondering.”

A small smile tugs on his lips as he watches you, for someone so tough and confident, you look small and shy, right now. You are worried about him and his feelings, that alone would be enough to mend the pain in his heart if it was there. You don’t want to break his heart.

He whispers your name and you almost sigh in relief when you don’t hear any pain in his voice. He squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. You do and meet his eyes again.

“Listen,” he begins, “I would be lying if I said that I don’t feel something for you but it’s not– I’m not in love with you, I’m not gonna be heartbroken when you leave and when this thing between us will come to an end. I mean, I will be fucking sad,” he chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair, “you and I, we had a really good time, one of the best times of my life, actually. You’ve become one of my best friends and I hope that you won’t forget about me when you leave because I sure as hell will never forget you and our time.”

You blink, smiling at him, you squeeze his hand the way he did to you.

“I could never forget you, Steve Harrington.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

You smile at each other, despite what happened and the way you felt the other night, you still feel safe with him.

“I got used to this,” he smiles, flicking his hand back and forth between the two of you, “having someone to hang out with, I mean other than Robin or the others. You made me realize that I miss having someone, someone to hold and kiss, you know?”

You nod at his words. You understand it, you feel the same but while he misses having someone in general, you only missed one person and even though you did enjoy the time with him, you still always thought about Eddie.

“At some point, I convinced myself that I don’t need anyone, that I’m not lucky in that department anyways,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes at himself, “I thought that all I’d ever get is meaningless hookups or just.. heartbreak.”

You raise your brows, smile turning upside down as you stare at him. He deserves more than that, more than meaningless flings.

“But then I met you and yeah, we hooked up too but it was also more than that. You showed me that it doesn’t have to be meaningless, that even though we aren’t in a relationship, we can still be something more than just this,” he mumbles, scooting closer to you, he looks down at the rings on your fingers, the ones that he played with when he held your hands, “you never made me feel used. Even when I knew you loved him, you never made me feel like I was a rebound or a thing to play with when you were bored. You never wanted something from me, you were just this sweet girl that wanted to be with me, even if only for a moment.”

Oh.

You and him, you are the same in a way. Perhaps this is why you got along so well.

All your life, you have felt like people wanted or needed something from you. You felt used, still do.

“So uh– I guess what I wanted to say is, thank you,” he smiles, squeezing your hand, “and I’m sorry for what happened that night.”

You blink, staring into his hazel eyes, you see so much in them. Emotions that you both share.

Yeah, the night at the trailer was something that left you feeling weird, something that made you feel used and even when it wasn’t what they did, something inside of you was damaged when you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your feelings for either of them haven't changed. You care about Steve and you love Eddie and that is something that will always stay the same.

Steve mended the pain in your heart after the horrible nights that followed when you found out about Chrissy. He became your friend and something more, there is an energy surrounding the two of you, one that makes you feel safe and comforted. It’s like having a safe haven that you know you can always come back to even after a long long time and you know it will still feel the same. There is nothing romantic about it but it’s nice.

He is your friend, one that will stay with you forever. You can confidently say that knowing that it’s the truth.

“Thank you, Steve,” you smile, “you made my life better and you made me happy when I needed it the most.”

“Come here,” he whispers, opening his arms for you. You smile and lean closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, you hug him and close your eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you when I’m gone.”

He hugs you even tighter, sighing sadly, “I’m gonna miss you, rockstar.”

On the other side of the room, Eddie stands there with a drink in his hand and a scowl on his face as he watches you staying in Steve’s embrace for longer than necessary. Letting the man touch your face after tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your eyes light up when he says something to you, you laugh and slap his shoulder playfully.

Do you look at him like that? Do you smile the same way when he talks to you? Do your eyes light up the same way?

Eddie swallows, his chest feels burdened with jealousy. He feels ridiculous for feeling this way, maybe even a little hypocritical considering he let Steve touch you in a way that was nowhere near friendly but he can’t help it. Anytime another man gets a little too close to you, he gets both angry and insecure but most of all, jealous.

“Damn, I never saw you look so angry.”

Eddie snaps his head towards Lucas, who is happily munching on one of the cookies that Nancy made.

“I’m not angry,” Eddie mutters, angrily.

Lucas chuckles, nodding, “sure, whatever you say, Eddie. You are totally not jealous over the fact that Steve is kissing her right now.”

“What?” Eddie almost shrieks as he turns to look at you again, heart dropping to his stomach at his words only to find you gone and Steve joining El and Robin in a conversation.

Clenching his jaw, he turns back to Lucas, “you little shit,” he says through gritted teeth. Lucas only laughs, satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

“So you are jealous, huh?”

Rolling his eyes, he only shrugs, “clearly.”

“You’re so dense, man,” Lucas sighs.

“Excuse me?”

“You are dense!” He exclaims, throwing his arms up. “She is like literally in love with you and you are over here glaring at her–”

“I did not glare at her!”

“Yes, you did! You looked pretty scary right now, scarier than Henry Creel!”

“Dude!”

“It’s the truth!” Lucas mumbles, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Listen, clearly you have messed up somehow, otherwise you wouldn’t look at each other like kicked puppies, all the damn time. You probably made things worse by trying to make them right ‘cause I know that you can be an idiot sometimes, no offense. But you really gotta man up and fix things before you lose her and trust me, you don’t wanna lose her.”

Eddie blinks.

How is this 17 year old boy wiser and smarter than him?

He is right, he doesn’t want to lose you, ever. The thought of living a life without you makes him sick. Even if you never give him a chance again, he still wants you in his life, even if he’ll only get to love you from afar.

You breathe in the cold air, closing your eyes, you lean back against the concrete wall. The wind is harsh tonight as the snow falls. You wonder if there is a storm brewing, beside the one inside of you.

You are overstimulated by all the emotions running through you.

Confusion. Sadness. Insecurities. Anger. Exhaustion. Heartbreak.

The conversation with Chrissy left you with nothing but confusion, just like Eddie’s and Steve’s actions did.

The days leading closer to Christmas and to your Dad’s death anniversary leaves you with sadness, too much of it.

Your many insecurities have always been there but they have never been as intense as they are now. Despite Eddie’s words, Robin’s words or even Chrissy’s words, you can’t help but fear that Eddie doesn’t care about you in the same way you do for him. So far, things have only ever been physical between you two, at least from his side.

Before Eddie, you had never felt an emotional connection to anyone else, you have never loved anyone romantically, you have never felt all of this for another person. You were scared of these feelings, of falling in love only to end up heartbroken.

You were scared of falling in love with the wrong person. Though despite everything that happened, Eddie could never be the wrong person, even if he continues to put you through pain, you will never regret loving him.

He is your person, even if you aren’t his.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You open your eyes and turn to see Max approaching you, even in the darkness, you can see the concern in her eyes as she looks at you.

You smile at her and nod your head, “yes, I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look convinced, raising her brows, she crosses her arms over her chest as she pulls her jacket tighter around her body to shield herself from the cold wind.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you mumble with uncertainty in your voice.

She takes a moment to think about her words as she looks into your eyes as though she tries to figure you out.

“Is this too much for you?” She asks, “I mean the whole Christmas party.”

She doesn’t have to spell it out for you to know what she actually means by her question.

“No, I actually like it,” you smile, “I’m just not used to it, I haven’t celebrated Christmas in years.”

Because what was there to celebrate after he died that day?

“Honestly? I hate Christmas,” Max admits with a sigh and an eye roll, causing you to chuckle.

“Really?”

Her eyes widen as she nods, “yeah because even though my mom left my step dad, she still insists on spending holidays with him and Billy.”

“Billy?”

“My step brother who is a major asshole.”

“Oh no,” you mumble with a scowl on your face.

“Yeah, he is horrible and he always makes sure to make me feel horrible, especially during holidays, so I really just can’t wait for it to be over.”

“I get it. I feel the same way,” you admit, “but I’m sorry about him, fuck that guy.”

She chuckles at your words, “yeah, fuck that guy.”

“What about your dad?” You ask.

Her eyes light up and a smile appears on her face. “Oh, my dad is amazing, I don’t see him very often but he calls all the time. Lucas and I are going to visit him over the summer, he lives in California.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile, “I hope you’ll have the best summer before you both go to college.”

“I’m sure we will,” she smiles, “but back to you, what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Oh umm.. I think that I will relax in my motel room,” you chuckle.

You are not looking forward to tomorrow or the day after at all. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try to distract yourself, it doesn’t work, it never works. This day always brings you back to that horrible night.

“Alone?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna get ready for tour, we’re leaving next week.”

“You can’t spend Christmas by yourself,” she frowns.

“I always spend Christmas by myself.”

“You shouldn’t, that’s sad.” Especially because of your dad, she wants to add but doesn’t. “I’d invite you to spend it with us but I don’t think that you want to meet Billy,” she rolls her eyes, “did Eddie not invite you?”

No. He didn’t. Eddie didn’t invite you. Steve did but he didn’t.

Maybe he doesn’t want you around. Christmas is a holiday that you spend with your loved ones, not ones you keep around because you like the way they make you feel, because you like touching them.

You shake your head.

“What?”

“Uh no, he uh– he didn’t invite me,” you mumble as the sadness begins to take hold of you, “which is fine, that’s a day you gotta spend with your family or with people you love. Eddie and I are just friends.”

She furrows her brows in confusion. She opens her mouth to speak but quickly closes it again. You feel overwhelmed, just like you did minutes before you left the apartment. She could see the way you put on a mask, the way you smiled at Steve and laughed along to his jokes despite the pain in your eyes, you are good at hiding your emotions and so is she, that’s why she could see right through you.

“It’s getting late, I think I’m gonna go,” you mumble, blinking away the tears that start to well up in your eyes.

“Do you want me to get Steve, so he can drive you?” She asks even though she already knows that you will say no. You want to be alone.

“No,” you shake your head, forcing a smile on your face, “it’s just a short walk, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, thank you for tonight, the party was nice.”

“You don’t have to thank us, you’re our friend now,” she smiles.

Her words warm your heart a little.

You give her a hug before you leave, telling her to enjoy the rest of the party before you walk away but then you make the abrupt decision to go the other way after Max goes back inside. The thought of being all alone in the quiet room makes you feel sick but going back to the party isn’t an option either. You need some time alone, a good drink and some music.

That’s how you find yourself sitting at the bar you performed in this Tuesday. Ordering yourself a drink and opting to watch the people around you.

Your eyes lock with blue ones, the ones that were stuck on you all night ever since you walked inside the hideout.

His hair is blond, a little messy. He has tattoos on his left arm, a dark look on his face and a smirk tugs at his lips when you don’t look away from him. He is attractive. If you weren’t so hung up on a man that probably only wants to fuck you, you would be over there flirting with this stranger already.

You look away, running your fingers through your hair, you sigh.

You’re a mess, a complicated mess with too many trust issues and feelings. You keep changing your mind about everything, your thoughts are running wild, making you feel as though you are going crazy. Everything that ever hurt you, keeps repeating itself in your head and you wish that your thoughts would just shut up.

That the pain could just stop.

Will it ever stop?

“Hey.”

You already know who it is before you even turn around to face the man.

“Hi.”

He smirks at you, eying you up and down before he looks at the seat next to you, “can I sit here?”

“If you give me your name,” you say with raised brows.

He licks his lips, chuckling, he holds his hand out to you, “I’m Henry.”

Oh my god.

“Henry,” you mumble, a smirk tugging at your lips. You assume that he must be the Henry Creel, the one that everyone kept mentioning, you expected him to look scary but there is not a single thing scary about him, well– maybe the look in his eyes is but you don’t care.

You give him your name and watch as he takes the seat next to you.

“I know who you are,” he chuckles, “you’re all over the television.”

His voice is raspy and he looks deep into your eyes.

“Yeah, do you want an autograph?” You joke.

“No, I think I’d rather talk to you.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?”

“Then I’ll leave,” he shrugs, “do you want me to leave?”

You tear your eyes away from him and look down at your drink, sloshing the dark liquid around, you down the rest of it, slamming the glass on the table. You call the bartender over, “can I get another one?”

The bartender, a middle aged man with the name tag Tom, nods at you, reaching for your glass.

“Actually make it two,” you request as you look back at Henry whose eyes light up.

With the way he has been making eyes at you all night, you expected him to be flirting with you but instead you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with the man that your friends have warned you about.

The only thing creepy about him is his obsession with spiders and zombies but he is probably just a really big fan of horror. He even has a big spider tattoo on his wrist.

You find out that he lives alone in a big house, he stayed behind after his family left Hawkins but he works as a tattoo artist in a different town.

The whole time he is talking to you, you nod along and listen. Leaning your elbow against the table, you cup your cheek and stare at him, wondering what gave him such a bad reputation.

Hours go by and you knock back one drink after the other, letting the alcohol flood your system. You needed this. A distraction. To feel careless and free of your thoughts. Who would’ve thought that a talk with a stranger and a few drinks would make you feel better?

“You are nice,” you slur, furrowing your brows.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

“People say you’re dangerous and scary.”

He chuckles at your words, “maybe I am dangerous and scary.”

You shake your head, laughing, “no, I’ve met dangerous people before, you’re not dangerous. You just have that mean look on your face,” you mumble as you point to his eyes, “and your obsession with spiders makes you seem scary but you probably just want to be spiderman– hey, have you ever been to New York? You should go there but don’t have your first kiss there with someone you love or it’ll all go downhill,” you ramble carelessly.

You don’t see the way he raises his brows in surprise, you are too drunk to notice anything at this point. Getting more and more dizzy and tired.

“I fell in love with this– this guy who had a girlfriend but I didn’t know about her until she surprised him and then I got all heartbroken and we got into a lot of fights and blah blah,” you roll your eyes, “then I fucked his friend.”

“Oh,” Henry mumbles, looking surprised.

“Yeah and he got jealous. He got all pissed at me because I fucked his friend! He had a girlfriend! He had no right to be jealous, right?”

“Totally not.”

“But then he wanted to fuck me with his friend, how fucking stupid is that?”

“Wait what–”

“I hate men, they are so dumb– no offense.”

“None taken, you’re right.”

“I know, I’m always right.”

He chuckles as he looks down at you.

You run your fingers through your messy hair, trying to sit straight.

“I think I need another drink–”

“No, I really think you don’t,” he says, pushing the half empty glass away from you, “you’ve had enough. You should go home.”

You tilt your head, squinting your eyes as you turn to look at him, “no, I don’t.”

“The bar is closing soon.”

“Oh,” you frown, “well, it was nice to meet you,” you mumble, jumping off the chair, your knees buckle and you almost fall to the ground if it wasn’t for him holding you up, “whoa, you okay?” He chuckles.

A small laugh leaves your lips, you nod, “yeah, thanks,” you mumble, blinking, you feel yourself getting dizzy, “I think I had too much.” You stumble into his chest, “you smell good, is that Dior?”

He chuckles again, placing his hands on your waist, he pushes you back a little.

“Do you need some water–”

“Hey! Get your hands off of her!”

You look behind him, to see Eddie walking towards you with an angry and worried look in his eyes.

“Oh no,” you mumble as a wave of sickness rushes through you, “there is the guy.”

Eddie can’t believe it. He was sick with worry, searching for you everywhere after finding your motel room dark and empty. Here you are, getting cozy with Henry fucking Creel.

“What the fuck, y/n?” He mutters angrily as he stops in front of you, he reaches for you, pulling you away from Henry, he looks down at you, “I was worried about you!”

“Why?” You slur, looking up into his dark eyes, “I’m fine, just hanging out with spiderman.”

He scrunches his face up, the smell of whiskey hits him. The red rimmed eyes and your drowsy state makes him even more worried. He cups your cheeks.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “how much did you have?”

You slap his hands away, “stop acting like my dad, you’re not my dad. My dad is dead.”

Eddie frowns at your words.

“Don’t look at me like that, Eddie–”

“You’re getting drunk with strangers now?”

“Henry is my friend, he’s gonna give me a tattoo, right Henry?”

Henry shrugs, “yeah sure.”

“Or maybe some nipple piercings,” you smirk.

“What the fuck,” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Eddie? Did you know that he is a tattoo artist and not some scary serial killer?”

He rolls his eyes at you, taking your hand, he squeezes it softly, “come on, I’ll take you home.”

To his surprise, you don’t protest. He grabs your coat and wraps it around your shoulders before he leads you out. He mutters something under his breath as you step into the darkness. Suddenly, you start giggling causing him to get even more irritated.

You lean against the wall, almost stumbling to the ground again but Eddie holds your waist tightly.

“What the fuck is so funny to you?”

You look at the frown on his face, his eye is twitching and his cheeks are red. He is mad.

“Get your hands off of her,” you imitate him with a low voice, “are you worried that someone else will use me for my body? I-I mean, that’s all I am to you, a body, right?”

“What?” He scoffs.

“I’m just a body– a thing to you,” you slur, “that’s what you called me, a pretty little thing, that’s what you called me that one night on the tour bus. And that’s all you ever want me for. You always just wanna touch me and kiss me, otherwise I’m not interesting to you.”

“What?” Eddie repeats, though he doesn’t sound shocked or angry now, just sad.

“Can you bring me home– no, wait,” you giggle again, “I don’t have a home.”

Eddie stares at you with tears in his eyes. Right here, right now, he realizes just how hurt you really are. Despite your laugh and the carefree act you put on, it’s so clear to him that you are in pain and it breaks his heart.

“I’m a wreck,” you say, running your hand down your face, “man, I’m so annoying.”

He shakes his head, stepping towards you, he cups your cheeks. Getting angry at himself for making you feel this way about yourself.

“You’re not a wreck and you are not annoying, Sweetheart and you’re not some thing to me. You’re my girl, my best friend, okay?”

Your glossy eyes widen at his words.

“Best friend?” You whisper.

“Yeah, you are my everything. I’m an idiot, a really big one. I know I made mistakes, too many of them but I can prove you wrong, I can show you that you are more to me than what you think.”

“Please?” You whisper with hope in your eyes.

“I will prove it to you,” he says softly, leaning down, he presses his lips to your forehead, giving you a gentle kiss, “I won’t touch you unless you tell me to. We can start over, okay?”

You nod.

He pulls you into his arms and hugs you tightly. You breathe his scent in, a sense of comfort washing over you. You close your eyes and lay your head on his chest.

“I can be your home.”

“Really?” You mumble into his chest as the exhaustion takes over you again.

“Yes baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and please don’t ever hang out with Henry again–”

“Henry is nice.”

“No, he really isn’t,” Eddie mumbles in annoyance.

“Yes, he is, he is a sweet boy.”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs.

“Let’s get you to bed, Sweetheart.”

He brings you back to the motel room, taking your clothes off and replacing them with comfortable ones. He takes your makeup off and brushes your hair while you brush your teeth. Eddie loves taking care of you, it’s something he never told you before but he does.

Before you, he hated being responsible for others, he didn’t like taking care of other people but it’s different with you.

He manages to convince you to drink a glass of water, hoping that it will make you feel less bad in the morning but neither that or the advil help you. You wake up with a pounding head.

Groaning in pain, you open your eyes, feeling thankful for the closed curtains.

You sit up, burying your face in your hands. You haven’t felt this way in a long time. You don’t drink much, ever. Hangovers are the absolute worst, that’s why you keep it light with the drinks, usually.

You force yourself out of bed, you read the clock, 12:00 pm.

“Jesus,” you mumble. It’s unusual for you to sleep this long.

You find a note and a full water bottle, along with some painkillers on the nightstand.

Please eat something when you wake up and call me.

-Eddie.

You don’t think that you will get anything down right now or today in general.

You don’t call him right away, opting for a shower instead, hoping that it will wake you up and make you feel better. You grab some fresh clothes before walking into the bathroom. Turning the water on, you start taking your clothes off. You turn to look at yourself in the mirror.

Frowning at the puffy eyes and the circles beneath them.

“Wreck,” you mumble to yourself, rolling your eyes, you turn away and step into the shower.

You close your eyes when the warm water touches your skin. You stand there for a couple of minutes before you begin to wash your hair and your body. You don’t think of anything yet, too focused on the headache and your craving for coffee.

You take your time getting ready. You put lotion on your body, style your hair and put makeup on your face, hoping that it’ll make you look less exhausted. You pick out a warm sweater and some dark jeans.

The weight on your shoulder is heavy but some of it was lifted last night after your conversation with Steve and Eddie.

I can be your home

We can start over

Start over. Yes, you both can start over. You can start over. Things don’t have to be this way. You don’t have to be broken and insecure. You can be more than that. You can be okay.

You are surprised by the amount of snow that fell overnight. All the trees and all the streets are covered in snow and it's icy cold outside.

You were meaning to go to the store but it’s too far away to walk in this cold so you stop by the gas station instead, hoping to get a hot drink and a few snacks here.

You greet the very bored looking cashier as you walk inside. Last Christmas by Wham is playing on the radio. The only Christmas song you’ll ever tolerate.

You walk past the drinks and the magazines when something catches your eye.

The warmth that the store provided you only lasted for a moment. Your blood runs cold and your heart drops to your stomach when your eyes fall on the cover of one of the magazines.

“What the fuck,” you whisper as you feel yourself getting sick already.

A picture of your dad is on the cover of one of the magazines. You step closer, ignoring the pounding of your heart. With shaky hands, you reach towards it. Eyes filled with shock as you read the lines on the cover.

HOLIDAY HEARTBREAK

BELOVED LEGEND DIED OF DRUG OVERDOSE, NOT MEDICAL CONDITION. AN INSIDE SCOOP INTO THE MAN WE THOUGHT WE KNEW.

“No….” You whisper with tears in your eyes.

You rush towards the counter with the magazine in your hand, slamming a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

“Hey, that’s too much!” The teen says to you as he looks at you in confusion.

“Keep the change,” you mumble as you leave the store. Not even caring about the cold anymore, walk towards the bench on the sidewalk. Sitting down, you flip through the pages.

Breathing heavily, you try to see through the blurry vision in your eyes as you begin to read the article. Your hands are shaking, you feel like throwing up as the bile in your throat rises.

The Hey Jude singer secretly battled a drug addiction before being found by his daughter on Christmas. Is she following in his footsteps?

You don’t even feel your heart racing any longer, you don’t feel any anger.

You read the rest of it, only growing more scared and confused.

Mentions of your apparent drug addiction only make you feel even sicker.

“What the fuck..”

You stare at it for the longest time, not knowing how to actually feel. Tears begin to stream down your face and you have to hold yourself together to keep yourself from sobbing. How do they know? How did this happen? Who talked? Who said all these horrible things about you?

You sniffle, closing the magazine, you get up.

You never wanted this, you never wanted them to know about what happened to him.

They waited for this day to publish this stupid magazine. You clench your jaw, looking up into the sky, you close your eyes. The pain and the anger and everything else begins to fade into numbness.

You don’t even think about what will happen next but you know that the rest of the tour will be hell for you.

Ever since he died, you have hated this day but now you despise it.

His name is ruined and so is yours.

You walk over to the telephone booth, throwing a coin into the phone box, you dial the number, already knowing that you are making a huge mistake. This person never gave you an ounce of comfort in your life and yet, you call her.

You have never felt so low.

You hold the receiver tightly in your shaky hand, ignoring the tears that stream down your face.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

The line goes silent and you are afraid that she hung up the phone.

“Mom, are you there?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice anymore.

She says your name, almost regretfully.

“Did you see?” You ask as you look down at the magazine.

“See what, y/n?”

“The article?”

“Yes.”

Her voice is monotone, strict. She doesn’t care, she never did and it hurts you more than ever today.

“C-Can I see you?” You ask with a shaky voice.

She sighs and you already know what that means.

“Listen, I gotta go–”

“Mom, please,” you beg.

The line is silent for another few seconds. Your heart is racing, your bottom lip is trembling as your body is shaking, not from the cold but from the fear.

“I need you.”

She doesn’t say anything but she hangs up the phone, leaving you alone once again.

You close your eyes as you place the receiver back in place, wiping your tears away, you hold the magazine tightly against your chest as you leave the booth.

How much worse will it get?

“Y/n?”

You look up, not caring about the tears on your face and the ones that are welling up in your eyes again. Even through your blurry vision, you recognize him.

“H-Hi,” you mumble, trying to keep yourself from crying.

He eyes you with concern in his eyes, holding the keys to his truck, he puts them inside of his pocket as he walks towards you.

“Are you okay, kid?” He asks.

You blink, trying to come up with words, trying to come up with a lie but you can’t, not right now.

You shake your head, “no,” you whisper, unable to stop the sob from escaping.

Wayne sighs deeply, a sad look taking over his features, he steps closer to you.

“Come here, darling,” he says as he opens his arms, pulling you into his embrace. He rubs your back softly, holding you as you cry.

Here’s the article

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#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

622 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 2 years

Note

Can I request a Steve x reader fic with their "six nuggets"

𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬

☆ word count: 2.2K+ (it ran away from me!!!) ☆

tags: dad and husband!Steve x fem!reader, cool uncle!Eddie and cool aunt!Robin, domestic bliss, fluff with smidge of implied smut at the end, this made me feel so fucking soft anon ur a genius x

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Steve doesn't need an alarm clock to wake him up in the mornings anymore, he's found.

No, ever since marrying you and having six kids, at least one of them is bound to wake him up if he hasn't already risen for the day. Sometimes it's his oldest, Heather, pulling back the curtains and chastising him under her breath that her ballet practice starts in an hour and he's still in bed. Other times it's the twins - Scott and Cory - brown tussels of curly hair peeking from the side of the bed as they excitedly tug at his sleeves, reminding him that he's chaperoning their school trip for the day.

But today it's his youngest, five year old Dianna, crawling into the empty space next to him and gently patting his chest to wake him up.

"Daddy." she says, shaking him awake with her small hands. At the sound of his youngest child's voice Steve wakes up in an instant, fatigue dissipiating as he quickly sits up with a tired smile.

"Morning, sweetheart." Steve says, heart overflowing with adoration with the way his daughter then giggles, jumping into his embrace, her neatly pulled back hair tickling his bare neck. "Where's momma?" he questions, pulling back to admire how adorable she looks with a red ribbon tied into her hair.

"She's making breakfast and asked me to come get you." Dianna dutifully responds, proud at her accomplishment. It makes him sigh contentedly, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"And so you did. Let me get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

She nods fervently and nearly slips on the wooden floor with how fast she runs down the hallway in her fuzzy socks, making Steve yell out for her to slow down. Amused at the five year old's antics, he shakes his head sideways in resign whilst getting dressed for the day: argyle black socks, blue linen pants secured with a darkened belt, white polo shirt with collars tucked in to his waist.

When Steve finally trods down the staircase you're humming along to a song flowing from the radio, Dianna perched on the kitchen counter with Heather next to her brushing out her younger sister's hair. The twins are arguing about a soccer match on the couch whilst Colton - second oldest and star football player - is helping set the table whilst you cook. The only person he doesn't see is his second youngest, Madison, until he feels someone run into him at full speed and embrace his legs from below.

"Morning, dad!" Madison gleefully quips, ever so the morning person. Steve chuckles, ruffling his daughter's hair fondly.

"Morning, Mads. Did you get a good night's sleep?"

She nods eagerly, practically bouncing up and down on her heels.

"I did! I went to bed early because the auditions for the musical is today!"

Steve gasps in awe, patting his daughter's head tenderly before sitting down on a nearby chair.

"Is it? What's the musical?" he asks, letting out a soft groan when Madison excitedly clambers onto his lap, awkward elbows digging into his lap as she climbs him.

"Once Upon a Mattress!"

"She's been singing all the songs for about a week, pops. I can't believe you haven't noticed." Heather notes from the back, turning around briefly to address him. Steve chuckles, lightly bopping Madison's nose.

"Well princess, I'm positive that you're going to do so well. You're going to blow all their socks off."

The sound of the stove being turned off catches everyone's attention, in addition to you calling out to everyone that breakfast is ready. All the younger kids dash to the long wooden table, playfully pushing against each other and arguing over who gets to sit next to you and Steve, whilst Heather and Colton help you bring over the stack of food from the kitchen. Amongst the chaos of getting all the kids to settle down and quickly eat their food, you're left to give Steve a quick kiss on the lips, hurried but still sweet and loving.

"Morning, handsome." you tease, winking at him as you set down the last stack of waffles. He grins at you, wrinkle lines by his lips.

"Morning, beautiful."

"Ew, mom and dad just kissed in front of us!" one of the twins, Scott, yells out, scrunching his face. It elicits most of the younger kids to also frown in disgust and pout immaturely, commenting on how 'gross' it is to see you two kiss, whilst it only makes Colton roll his eyes and Heather to laugh out loud in amusement.

"Hush and eat your breakfast." you chastise your children, stabbing your fork into your plate of strawberries and pointing it towards them. "All of you have a very busy day today and I don't want anyone to be late."

Breakfast is quickly devoured over small talk of what everyone's up to - Heather's date with Angelina, Colton's upcoming SAT exam and college scouts attending his final game, the twins talking everyone's ears off over wanting to learn guitar like uncle Eddie - and the moment the clock strikes half past eight, there's a rush of bodies up and down the stairs as you place all the dirty dishes in the sink.

Steve is the one to zip up the twins' jackets and to tie Madison's shoelaces when a familiar vehicle shows up by the front porch, accompanied by an obnoxious honking.

"There's my favorite little rascals!" Eddie shouts from his van as the twins and Madison quickly scurry towards him, each of them hugging Eddie's waist and squeezing his body tightly. Eddie's grin is bright and wide, hands patting against the kids' backs, before he looks up.

"Steve. The better Harrington." Eddie says to Steve and you respectively, winking at you.

You laugh, leaning against the doorframe as Steve scowls and places a protective arm around your waist - but it's playful, and everyone knows he doesn't mean it.

"Thanks for agreeing to drive the kids today." you say, pulling the cardigan closer towards you as the autumn breeze rolls in.

"Nah, it's nothing. Anything for my favorite married couple."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that so Vickie and I don't get offended." Robin adds from the side, leaning against her car. "Is Dianna ready to go?" she questions, only for the young girl to come barreling out the door and slam herself against Robin's legs.

"Hi auntie Robin!"

"Hiya hun, look at you with your cool bumblee socks and everything." Robin coos, leaning down to be eye-level with the young girl. Steve frowns at that, looking back towards you.

"I thought you were driving her."

You shrug, stepping one step closer towards Steve.

"Well, since Heather will be out late with her date tonight, Colton can drive himself now and Eddie's taking Mads and the twins... I figured we could have a date night all to ourselves." you slowly explain, deft fingers brushing against his cheeks. "So I called Robin."

"You owe me, Harrington number one." Robin warns and then winks, pointing at Steve, before letting Dianna into the backseat and getting into the driver's seat herself.

Pressing a soft kiss onto Heather's forehead as she rushes out the door and giving Colton a firm hug as he dangles the keys to his own BMW, the once bustling Harrington household is plunged back into silence in a mere matter of minutes. Steve blinks slowly before closing the door behind him, a soft grin appearing on his face.

"You little vixen." he murmurs quietly, pinning you down on the couch as you let out a squeal of joy upon feeling your back hit the soft cushions. "Spontaneous date night with all the kids handled? How do you do it?"

His hair's falling over his eyes as he stares at you fondly, boyish smirk marking his pink lips.

"Hm... Can't take all the credit. Eddie and Robin stepping in helps, but I guess it also helps that I'm an awesome wife." you tease, trailing your fingers down his arms, tracing the faint outline of his upper muscles. The flickers of infatuation in his eyes still never fails to send a chill down your spine, stomach afloat with butterflies.

Steve's aged beautifully, too. Slight wrinkles on his calloused hands, faded smile lines adorning his cheekbones, grey hairs peeking in between brown ruffles of hair. His wedding ring is cool against your cheek when he leans down and presses his lips to yours, moulding his mouth against yours, elicting a soft moan from your mouth.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful." he growls, left hand digging into your hips, slipping underneath your sundress in one swoop. You bat at his arms, giggling.

"Says you, Stevie. You're just as gorgeous as the first day we met."

He hums, leaning forward close to enough to brush his nose against yours, eyes not leaving your lips.

"Hm, if only you from the 80's could hear you saying that now. Probably would have a heart attack and insist there's no way you would fall in love with, and I quote, the biggest douchebag of Hawkins High."

You roll your eyes at his comment.

"Please. I'd pay good money to see 'King' Harrington's reaction back then. Old you probably would have had an aneurysm at the mention of marrying me and having six kids."

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, raising his eyebrows.

"Old me would have an aneurysm but not out of disgust, babe. Old me still had a huge crush on you, so he'd probably be spiraling on the floor, giddy with happiness and shock."

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you bring him down for another kiss, this one more slow and tender. It's the kind of kiss that has any smart quips he's prepared to die in Steve's mouth, mind completely preoccupied with how good you taste - strawberry chapstick and leftover maple syrup from breakfast - as well as how warm and soft your pilant body feels underneath him.

"I love you, Steve Harrington. Thank you for giving me this life and our beautiful six kids." you breathe against his lips, stroking his cheeks.

"I should be the one thanking you, doll. Our six little nuggets wouldn't have been born without you doing all the hard work. All I did was... deposit a lil something at the beginning." he shrugs sheepishly, making you laugh and smack him in the chest lightly.

"Ugh, that's such a disgusting way of describing how conception works."

He hums, amused, before biting at your bare shoulder lovingly.

"Mm, but it's true, isn't it?"

He shifts to sit you on his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist as he sits upright.

"We're such a great team, baby. Each of our kids, they're... smart, kind, good-hearted, talented... They're the best parts of both of us combined." he trails off, eyes glazing over with happy tears which he quickly blinks away (you pretend not to notice). "God, I have no idea how we got so lucky."

You let the sentiment hang in the air for a bit, the awed expression on his face too sweet to wipe away quickly.

"You're such a sap, Steve. I fear for what you'll do on the day of Heather's graduation." you tease, making him groan, head falling forward into the crevice of your neck.

"Oh, don't remind me. Our little girl's going off to college in a month's time." he moans, devastated. It makes you laugh, the down trodden eyes and the 'kicked puppy' expression on his face as he mopes openly.

"She's 18, Stevie. She has a girlfriend, she's got her own car and a driver's license, her own debit account... Besides, New York isn't that far away." you try to reason with him, but he still pouts.

"Still. That's too far. I can't stand the thought of any of our nuggets being so far away from us." he groans into your skin. You tut, running your fingers through his hair whilst massaging his scalp just the way he likes.

"What shall we ever do then, dear husband... Colton's going to follow suit in less than a year, then it'll be Scott and Cory off together, then Madison and even Dianna in the future-"

His head shoots up at that, an unreadable look glazing over his eyes.

"You're right." he whispers, left arm coming up to tug at the sleeves of your sundress whilst his lips brush against your collarbone. "We gotta have more kids so we'll never be alone."

"Steve-"

His lips are already sucking on bare skin, wet lips marking his territory as you feel his hands travel lower.

"Steve, as much as I'm enjoying this, I put in a reservation for us at the spa uptown-"

"When is it?" he questions, not even looking up from where he's kissing you - right underneath your ear, dark spots already forming around your neck.

"I-in, fuck, half an hour." you manage to stumble out, already feeling pleasure rush in. He smirks at that, grabbing your thighs.

"Then we have plenty of time."

"C-can't, we'll be late-" you try to reason with him, but all protests die in your mouth when Steve stands back up and kisses you squarely on the mouth.

"I'll be quick. Promise."

He wasn't. And you two end up being 20 minutes late.

-> a/n: if you're wondering how I went about the kids - thought it'd be cute to have a neat 3 girls and 3 boys split, and I chose the names based on US data on most popular baby names of the 90s.

ngl i loved writing this and am tempted to expand it into a universe with blurbs/oneshots connecting all the stories: idk lmk if that sounds gucci

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #1k #2k

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jobesbabe · 4 months

Text

Proud of You / Jobe Bellingham

ps i made this gif so give creds if u use it!

warnings: established relationship, fluff, bar setting

summary: tired you cozying up to your winner of a boyfriend. based loosely on the Sunderland vs Plymouth Argyle match and it’s (fictional) aftermath.

You sat patiently with the other wags for the majority of the first half. Your boyfriend was on the bench and so was his mate Chrissy. There were yellow cards thrown, One at your boys in red, and two at the opponents in green. Approximately one every ten minutes. You pulled your Sunderland scarf a bit tighter and sighed. To you, the match was plain and boring. You adored football, even teams other than Sunderland, but if it was Sunderland, your Jobe better be playing. A few minutes after Phillips earned his yellow, you heard cheers and cries erupt from the Stadium of Light. Everyone around you looked disappointed. Plymouth Argyle had scored. As you stared at the number nine on Hardie’s back, You felt it taunting you. That should be a red jersey, with a number 7 that read ‘JOBE’. If only were that easy.

Relief came for you as the ref blew his halftime whistle, reminding you your boyfriend still had forty five minutes to go out and prove himself.

You expected the manager to have him walk out onto the field, and start the remaining forty five, but he didn’t. Your sighs grew louder wondering when your man would get out there on the field.

seven minutes passed and you joined in with the roar of fans, as Roberts moved with the ball, you could tell if he passed it to Ekwah he would score. And he did, equalizing it for the two teams. You cheered for the Jobe-less Sunderland, wishing it had been your Jobe who scored the equalizer.

Seven more minutes passed and Clarke sank a second into the back of the net giving Sunderland an advantage over the visitors. It was like someone was winking at you with the number seven and everything associated with it. Good luck, Jobe. Jobe. Jobe is the number seven. You were sure in seven minutes his manager was going to sub him in. You were sure.

At the 65’ minute mark, two minutes before your seven minute timer would go off, Jobe was subbed in along with Chrissy in exchange for Abdoullah, and Pierre.

So, maybe I was wrong, about the seven minute thing but who cares, he's in now, you thought to yourself. You smiled as he ran up and down the field. as your timer begins to alert you, you see Neil make an amazing pass to Jobe and him just put that ball away in the corner.

You cheer so hard for him, yelling “That’s my boy!” and he celebrates with his teammates before turning to your section and blowing a few kisses. You begin to blush and the wags around you laugh and poke a bit of fun.

The rest of the game flew by, the result remaining where Jobe had left it. 3-1. You made your way to wait for the boys to shower. As you waited, Keeley, Alex Pritchard’s partner came up to you and talked with you about plans for the night and how they were all going out to a bar. You told her you’d run the idea past Jobe and she thanked you.

As he walked out to go see you the fresh-faced Jobe couldn’t help but smile. You ran to him and he picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m so proud of you! That was amazing Jobeee!” you exclaimed.

He grinned cheekily and tilted his head.

“You think so?” he asked.

You laughed and kissed his cheek as he put you down.

“I think some of the guys and their partners are going out for drinks if we want to join them,” Jobe said.

“Oh yeah, Keeley mentioned something yeah.”

“lets go out with them yeah?” he asks.

“Sure,” you reply as you leave to his car hand in hand.

Jobe and you make your way inside a bar close to the outskirts of the city. You see it’s been mostly cleared so the lot of you could hang out there without many disturbances.

You sat between Keeley and Jobe drinking just a club soda with lime since you didnt feel like drinking.

After a few hours and meters of seperation from Jobe, you began to get tired.

You crept into Jobes lap and cuddled into his neck with your eyes closed. His cologne was as intoxicating as alcohol to you and you breathed it in like it was your oxygen.

He rocked you back and forth humming and your ear was pressed to his chest listening to his heartbeat as it steadily pounded.

He kissed your hair and you smiled.

“baby, im so proud of you.” you said.

He laughed and picked you up bridal style, putting you in the car to bring you home

————————————————————————

that’s it!

a/n - I turned off anon requests bc literally the same person is using it over and over again for the same request and also left rude ones so i’d rather know who they came from. Requests are open but not anon… In due time i will turn anon back on. dw. Thanks for the understanding

thanks for reading! leave comments, like and follow! thank youu!

#jobe bellingham #footballer imagine #jobe bellingham x reader #sunderland afc #footballer x reader #football #jobe bellingham imagine #imagine #oneshot #footballer one shot

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 8 months

Text

Vickie had been invited to Steve’s house by Robin, and she was completely nervous. It was a pool party which meant swimsuits. Should she go sexy or conservative? Fuck it, she's wearing a bikini. Over the bikini, she wore a pair of jeans shorts and a floral tank top. Vickie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She ruffled up her hair and pouted, and then she scowled.

"Why I am so pale?!" Vickie exclaimed.

"Once again, dear, I apologize for passing on my genes to you," her father said as he leaned against her doorway. "I like you, so should Robin. Although not in the same way."

"Dad! You have to like me," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"Everything's going to work out," Matthew said and grabbed his daughter by the shoulders shaking her. "You just have to believe in yourself the way that I do."

"I'm starting to regret telling you," Vickie rolled her eyes.

"You know that I'm proud of you, right?" He asked. "And if your mother were still here with us, she'd proud of you too."

"Thanks, Daddy," Vickie said softly. "I just wish I got to tell her."

"Oh, pumpkin, I think she always knew," Matthew told her.

"How do you know that?" She asked.

"She's your mother. Nothing ever got past her," he said. "Now, do we need to do something breathing exercises?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, now what do we tell our anxiety first?"

"To go to hell!"

"Damn straight or in your case not so straight!"

"Daddy!"

Vickie stood in front of the large house and was immediately intimated by its size.

"It's weirdly huge, right?" A voice, and she looked to find Eddie Munson standing next to her. "I always feel like it's going to eat me. You must be Vickie."

"And you must be Eddie Munson," Vickie said in amusement.

"Nah. I'm the guy that ate him," Eddie said sarcastically, and Vickie laughed.

"You're weird," she said. "My dad would like you."

"You should know now, Vickie, that my heart is pining away for someone else. . .just so you don't get your hopes up," Eddie said.

"So is mine," she replied.

"Good, now that that's settled," Eddie told her. "What's got you so nervous?"

"The idea of taking off my clothes," Vickie scoffed.

"Yeah, same here. I've got some nasty scars recently, and they're not quite done healing. Almost. They're ugly as hell," Eddie sighed.

"I've got a scar on my stomach from a car accident when I was little, but I decided to say "fuck it" and wear a bikini anyway," Vickie said.

"That's my kind of spirit. Fuck it," Eddie grinned. "Ready to head inside, my lady?"

"I am now," Vickie said.

The party was in full swing. All of Steve and Robin's friends were here. They were Eddie's friends now, too. Jonathan Byers, some guy named Argyle who Vickie immediately liked, and Nancy Wheeler. Vickie wasn't at all curious that Steve was friends with his ex, as she was still very much friends with hers. Robin seemed to be friends with her, too. There was this bond there that connected all of them, and she wasn't sure what it was, but she was glad they had it. There was this warm feeling of family amongst all of them. The one thing she hated, though, was the fear behind their eyes and the way they all jumped sometimes. Something told her that the bond they formed didn't start from a very good place. It wasn't her story to tell, though, so she wasn't going to pry.

"Whatcha thinking about, Lady Fisher?" Eddie asked as he plopped down in the lawn chair next to hers.

Vickie had gotten tired out from swimming and had decided to sprawl out into one of the lawn chairs. She had started thinking about the way Robin's eyes landed on hers when she started taking off her clothes, and the way remained steadfast on her face as though they were trying not to look anywhere else. It had made Vickie blush and somehow her thoughts had drifted.

"Life," Vickie told Eddie.

"Ah, yes, that bitch," Eddie said and Vickie giggled.

Her eyes landed on Robin and Steve talking animatedly with one another as they stuck their feet in the pool. She could have sworn she saw Robin say her name, and it made Vickie blush. She didn't realize that Eddie was talking to her until Eddie was snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Hmm?" She asked.

"Is the person you like Steve?" Eddie scowled.

"What?!" Vickie exclaimed. "No."

Eddie turned his head at the same time hers did. His eyes landed on Argyle nearby.

"Argyle?" He asked.

"Well, no, I mean, a little, but I think everyone likes Argyle just a bit. I mean. . .," Vickie trailed off.

"Except for Robin," they said at the same time.

They gasped and slapped their hands on their mouths at the same time. Vickie did not mean to say that, although it didn't necessarily imply that Robin is a lesbian. Still. Wait. . .Vickie removed her hand at the same time that he did.

"You know?!" They hissed.

"How do you know?!"

"She told me!"

"Stop that!"

They stayed quiet for a while. Eddie looked at her thoughtfully.

"If it's not Argyle, then . . . "

Vickie sighed and grabbed his head. She pointed him at Robin. He gasped and then looked at her in annoyance.

"I was getting there," he said defensively.

"Sure, you were," Vickie laughed and released his head.

"Just so you know, I call dibs on Steve," Eddie said.

"You can't call dibs on a person," she said.

"Sure you can. I just did," he said with a grin and rubbed his stomach, wincing.

"Your scars hurting you?" Vickie asked.

"The pain comes and goes," Eddie shrugged. "You're not curious about how I got them?"

"I am, but I'm not going to question it if you don't want me to know," Vickie said. "Besides, I just met you."

"Yes, but I have this feeling that we're like Steve and Robin. Platonic soulmates and what not," Eddie said. "I mean, how do you think they got there?"

"Well, they were in Starcourt together," Vickie said.

"Ooh, so, you think shared trauma? See, I knew about Starcourt," Eddie frowned. "I don't think we have any shared trauma. I mean, I was once in a car accident, too."

"Really?" Vickie asked gently.

"Yeah, my mom died in that accident. I was in the car with her. She threw her body on top of mine," Eddie said, his voice catching. "We were coming back from Indie when this drunk driver came out of nowhere. It caused a pretty bad pileup."

"Was it on the road with the really creepy scarecrow that no one ever does anything about?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah. I guess you heard about it like everyone else?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie. . .I think we have shared trauma," Vickie said, tears in her eyes. "Me and my mom were in that accident. My mom also died that day."

"Shit," Eddie said and moved quickly to hug her.

They were interrupted by Robin and Steve coming over to check on them.

"Is everything okay?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Vickie said, her face wet with tears. "We were talking about our moms."

"Oh," Robin and Steve said in unison, a look of understanding in their eyes.

"Vickie, do you want to talk more inside?" Eddie asked softly and she nodded.

Eddie put his arm around her as they walked inside. They ended up on the floor of the nearest bathroom, unknowingly recreating Steve and Robin's own special moment. They talked for a while until their bathing suits were very nearly dry. They talked about how wonderful their moms were. Vickie told him how her mom used to read to her at bedtime and how she used to make her dance on her feet when they were dancing in the kitchen. Eddie told her all about how he got his love of his music from his mother even though she never could carry a tune, but she could tell a story like no one else. They talked about how they wished they were still here, how they could tell their moms about themselves.

"My mom would love Robin," Vickie said.

"My mom would love Steve, and she would love the fact that Steve would probably be the one to teach her how to cook. She always hated that she didn't know how to do that," Eddie grinned.

They went on to talk about how they hated the fact that they had to share this trauma, but there was also some relief in knowing that they didn't have to go through it alone. Eddie stood up and clapped his hands.

"Alright, enough of this sad shit," Eddie said and jumped up. "I think we're officially soulmates now."

He put his hand and helped her up, hugging her tightly.

"Definitely platonic," Vickie giggled. "You remind me too much of my dad."

They left the bathroom and found that everyone had gone home.

"How long were we in there for?" Eddie asked.

They headed to the kitchen where Robin and Steve were cleaning up.

"Party's over?" Vickie asked.

"Yeah, everyone got tired really quickly. It was weird how quickly they got so tired," Robin said, and Steve nudged her in the side.

Vickie grinned and pulled Eddie off to the side.

"I just got a great idea," Vickie said.

"And what, pray tell, is cooking in that head of yours, Fisher?" Eddie asked.

"We should ask them out together right now!" Vickie said excitedly.

"Are you crazy?" Eddie asked.

"Come on, we both know that life is short, and we could kick it at any time. They're worth risking it all, yeah," Vickie said. "Besides, they can't reject us if we're coming at them from both sides."

"Hmm, I am not seeing a single flaw in your logic," Eddie said thoughtfully and grinned. "Let's do it!"

They moved back over to Robin and Steve.

"What the hell was that all about?" Steve asked.

"That was our first official platonic soulmate huddle," Eddie said.

"Oh, so, you guys are platonic soulmates now?" Steve asked.

"That's cute," Robin said, smiling. "I mean, you know as in, you know . . . You know what I mean."

"Wait, how are we going to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Well, I figured you would look at Steve, and then I would look at Robin," Vickie said. "Then we ask them."

Eddie shot her finger guns and then leaned against the island across from them. Vickie leaned against the island, looking at Robin.

"We want to know - " Eddie nudged Vickie as he continued to gaze into Steve’s eyes.

"If you guys would like to - " Vickie said, nudging him back.

"Go out with us!" They finished together.

"Well, that was fucking cute," Steve said.

"But I think we're going to have to have a huddle of our own," Robin said, winking at Vickie.

They couldn't move very far away, but they talked quietly for a moment before squealing and then jumping up and down. They calmed down and straightened up while wiping imaginary lint off of their clothes. They walked back over, looking serious.

"We accept!" Steve and Robin exclaimed.

"But you should know that you guys didn't have to become platonic soulmates just to ask us out," Steve said.

"I know. It kind of just happened," Vickie shrugged and grinned at Eddie.

Eddie took her by the shoulders and moved Vickie directly in front of Robin.

"I am handing you my platonic soulmate. Be careful with her," Eddie said.

"And the same to you," Robin said as she pushed Steve towards Eddie.

"Why does this feel like a drug deal?" Steve asked.

"Maybe it's because you're the best kind of drug, baby," Eddie said, kissing his cheek.

"That was a good one," Vickie said.

Steve blushed and squeezed Eddie's shoulder, causing him to wince. That's when he noticed that Eddie was slightly pink.

"Eddie! You're sunburned! I told you to use sunscreen," Steve said.

"I'm a rebel, baby," Eddie winked at him.

"Oh, so you want to get skin cancer?!" Steve exclaimed.

"I smoke too! Do you want to tell me about getting lung cancer?" Eddie scoffed.

"Yes! I only ever had the occasional smoke, and I quit," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Is this how it's going to be? You worrying about me?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Yes!" Steve said, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Plus, I'd rather you not have to use an oxygen tank in between makeout sessions."

"Fair point," Eddie laughed.

Vickie and Robin giggled before sharing a look.

"Dinguses!" They exclaimed.

"Our platonic dinguses," Vickie said, and Robin kissed her cheek, causing her to blush.

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steddiealltheway · 2 years

Text

Incorrect Fruity Four Living Together Quotes

Eddie: *watching their house burn down*

Eddie:

Eddie: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Nancy: Yesterday, I overheard Steve saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Eddie replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve: Sorry it took so long to bail you out of jail.

Eddie: No, it was my fault. I shouldn't have used my phone call to prank call the police station.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Jonathan: What’s Eddie to you?

Steve, Robin, and Nancy: The reason we wake up every morning.

Argyle: …that’s adorable.

Eddie, earlier that morning, banging pots together: WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

-:-:-:-:-:-

Robin: If you water water, it grows.

Steve: ...What.

Eddie: They've got a point.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Nancy, easily: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

Eddie, proudly: Fuck you.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie: Steve, do you love me?

Steve: Of course I do!

Eddie: Would you still love me if I did something bad?

Steve: Well, of course I… would…

Eddie: I mean something really, really—

Steve: Eddie, what did you do?

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie: Are you busy?

Nancy: Yes.

Eddie: Cool, listen to this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Robin: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag.

Eddie: way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie: Who wants to make fifty bucks?

Robin: How?

Eddie: I need someone to take the fall.

Robin: What did you do?

Eddie: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked.

Steve, from the other room: Oh my god.

Eddie: ...

Steve: OH MY GOD!

Robin: Make it a hundred.

Eddie: Deal.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve: I’m proud to say I’ve come over my fear of ghosts!

Robin: Eyy, that’s the spirit!

Steve: *gasps* whErE???!!!??

-:-:-:-:-:-

Nancy: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Steve: You left me, Robin, and Eddie in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Nancy: I did that on purpose, try again.

#steddie #ronance #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fruity four #the fruity four #incorrect stranger things quotes #stranger things incorrect quotes #incorrect ronance quotes #incorrect steddie quotes #incorrect fruity four quotes

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 4

I actually got it up today, holy crap. Today has been so wild I wasn’t sure it was going to happen. Also thank you to @chaoticlovingdreamer and @yellowdevilkitten about the cramps. I am feeling better now.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part Seven: Hand holding

Once you’ve established that he likes you back, the first step is hand holding. You aren’t necessarily dating at this point. Though you could be. For same sex couples this will have to be discreet and sneaky, but for straight couples this can be used as a way to declare your couple status.

“I hate that you can’t hold hands with Steve in public,” Max said. “It’s stupid.”

Eddie cocked his head ruefully. “It is what it is. Some day it won’t be like this, but for now, we do what we can.”

“Still stupid.”

It was movie night sleepover. It was something that all of them did once in a while. And by them it meant all of them. All thirteen of them. Steve’s basement was perfect for it. They could all stretch out and still have tons of space. Not that they did that. They tended to puppy pile in smaller groups.

El, Max, Erica, and Lucas was one pile. Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy were another. Mike, Dustin, and Will were another. Which left Eddie, Robin, and Steve as the remaining pile.

But that was a problem for future Eddie. Current Eddie was content on the sofa with Steve sitting next to him, their bodies pressed together in a seem from shoulder to knee.

Robin was on the other side of Steve curled up under his arm and Eddie was fine with sharing at the moment.

The hardest part of the night was deciding on a movie they all wanted to watch. There was always someone that didn’t want to watch whatever it was they decided on. So Eddie and Steve came up with the idea of ranked voting. They would grab five movies and everyone would list them in the order they wanted to watch them in and whichever one got the most votes at number one was the one they watched first.

Tonight they were watching The Dark Crystal. When the beetles came on, chittering above the Skekis Robin flinched and buried her head into his shoulder.

“I thought this was a kids’ show!” she whined to Steve.

“Come on,” Dustin said. “They aren’t that scary. They’re just giant bugs.”

Eddie kicked him in the thigh. “Everybody has different things they’re scared of, we don’t mock people for that.”

“I wasn’t mocking,” Dustin defended. “I just don’t think they’re scary.”

Fizgig started wailing and Eddie jumped back. “What the fuck! Why does it have so many teeth?!” Then a warm hand took his and he looked down at the joined hands and back up to Steve.

“Wait a damn minute!” Max cried. “You’re telling me that the first time you guys held hands Steve initiated it?”

Eddie grinned. “I was so proud. Though, he thought he was just being a good friend at the time. Remember this is oblivious jockus. Even though it was pretty clear he liked me back, he wasn’t reading the signs that I liked him.”

“But he still reached out to you?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled softly at him and Eddie’s heart just melted. Eddie gave Steve’s hand a squeeze, but instead of letting go like he suspected Steve thought he would do, Eddie held on to it for the rest of the movie.

When the movie ended, Eddie wasn’t the only with sniffles from the sacrifices of Kyra and Fizgig.

“But that won’t work,” Dustin said.

“What won’t work, bud?” Eddie asked as he dried his eyes on his sleeve.

“You can’t rebuild an entire race with just two members,” Dustin complained. “Because otherwise you get inbreeding and trust me when I say that’s gross and not just from moral stand point but a medical one, too.”

Max rolled her eyes. “They aren’t trying to rebuild the species. It’s just a love story.”

Dustin grumbled, “Well, it’s a stupid one.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and shook their heads.

Steve dislodged himself from Robin, reluctantly letting go of Eddie’s hand. “All right, gremlins, get your bed stuff and set it up downstairs. You don’t have to go to sleep right away but I want you at least in your sleeping bags.”

There was some grumbling from the younger kids but they all packed up and went downstairs, Jonathan and Nancy going down with them to make sure they didn’t start fighting over spots.

The remaining adults started cleaning up the mess that only thirteen people can make.

Robin got bored about half way through and wandered downstairs to see what was happening there.

Argyle tilted his head. “Does she always do that?”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and shrugged.

“Not always,” Steve said. “Her mind just goes a million miles an hour and sometimes cleaning fulfills that need and other times not. I guess today was a not.”

Argyle nodded sagely. “Do you think she would benefit from the purple flower?”

By now they were aware that that was a brand of weed Argyle had brought over from California.

“She doesn’t like smoking,” Eddie said with a grimace.

Argyle lit up. “Brownies, bro! I bet she’d love my brownies.”

Steve chuckled. “You are more than welcome to ask. Just know she might still say no.”

Argyle smiled his dopey smile. “Never offended by that.”

They finished cleaning and went back downstairs to find that the usual piles were divided differently.

El, Max, and Nancy were doing each other’s nails. While Argyle, Robin and Jonathan were discussing weed in a corner. Mike and Will were snuggled up together as were Erica, Lucas, and Dustin.

“You know I always wondered about that night,” Eddie said. “Why you and Lucas weren’t snuggled up like you usually were.”

Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s the whole reason for this little guide I’m forcing myself to sit through.”

“What happened?”

She put her head in her hands. “I thought we were on again and he did not.”

“He is an oblivious jock, though right?” Eddie grimaced.

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize how much until that night,” Max said with a small whine of frustration. “He said that it was great how we had remained friends after Vecna and then asked me if I was dating anyone at the time.”

Eddie rubbed his eye. “Are you serious?”

“As Vecna.”

“Ouch.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me, big boy,” Eddie said looking around the room at all the different groups. When Steve didn’t reply, he backtracked, “Unless you want to hang out with Robin and the stoner boys?”

Steve’s head snapped up. “No, no. She looks like she’s having fun. I’d be happy to be your puppy partner.”

Eddie groaned. “Can you not say it like that?”

“Snuggle buddy?” Steve suggested. “Snug bugs? Puddle pals?”

Eddie shoved him playfully. “Knock it off, man.”

“Oh,” Steve said with a wicked gleam. “I see how it is. Maybe I will join one of the other piles. You think Mike will mind if I join him and Will?”

Eddie laughed. “Only if you want to be murdered in your sleep.”

Steve winked. “So I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie bit his lip nervously. “I have an idea!” He walked over to the girls.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted warmly. “May I inquire if you have any black polish among your bounteous plethora of polishes?”

El lit up. “Yes, I have three kinds in fact.” She went digging for them. “I have glitter midnight, death becomes her, and blackest black.”

She held them up for him to see. He looked at each one carefully and chose blackest black.

“Now, my fairest maiden,” Eddie said. “I need a blue for Stevie.”

Steve, Nancy and Max all stared at him in shock.

“You’re going to paint Steve’s nails?” Max asked.

Eddie nodded. “And he’s going to paint mine.”

El giggled. “That’s sooo cute. I have just the color.” She opened a small drawer in her kit and pulled out a sparkling dark blue.

Eddie kissed her forehead. “It’s perfect Supergirl.”

El blushed. “You’re welcome. Have fun.”

Eddie sat down cross-legged from Steve and set the two bottles down between them.

“Can’t have a sleepover without painting your nails and talking about boys,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear.

Steve laughed. “All right, Eds. You got me there.”

“I thought I would paint yours first, so you can watch me do it,” Eddie said. “And then you can do mine.”

Steve nodded and let Eddie take his right hand.

“Judd Nelson or Rob Lowe?” Eddie asked, delicately painting the thumb nail first.

“Ooh,” Steve said. “Going straight for the bad boys. Robert Downey Jr.”

Eddie looked up at him and tsked. “Wasn’t an option, but interesting.”

Steve laughed and Eddie swatted him. “Stop moving.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, but he was grinning unrepentantly.

“And people say I’m a menace,” he mumbled under his breath.

Steve leaned in close. “Oh, you absolutely are. But I’ll let you in on a secret. So am I.”

Eddie blushed.

They continued to banter back and forth about their favorite actors and singers.

“You take that back!” Eddie protested.

Steve tapped the back of his hand. “Don’t move!” Eddie stopped struggling. “And I didn’t say it was a bad thing you look like John Bon Jovi, I was just making an observation.”

“His sound,” Eddie murmured, “I wouldn’t even deign to call it music, is trash Steve. Literal trash.”

Steve laughed. “Well there you go, menace. All done.”

Eddie held his hands up and admired them. “Not bad, Stevie. Not bad at all.”

“Not as good as yours,” Steve said softly, ducking his head.

“True, but since this was your first time, you did one hell of a job.”

El came over. “Can I see?”

Steve handed her back her bottles of nail polish and then showed her his hands.

“Eddie did a wonderful job,” she said with a gentle smile. “It makes your hands very pretty.”

“Thanks, El,” he said kissing her cheek.

Eddie showed her his and she nodded. “A couple of mistakes but an easy fix.” She went back over to her kaboodle and got out another bottle and a Q-tip. She scooted back over to Steve and Eddie.

“Here’s what you can do when you accidentally paint outside the nail,” El said and dipped the Q-tip into the bottle.

It smelled horrible. She picked up Eddie’s hand gingerly brushed the sides of the nail where Steve had missed and then it was gone, looking for all the world like Steve hadn’t fucked it up.

Steve picked up the bottle and read the label. “Polish remover?”

El nodded. “It’s great for touch ups or when you want a new color.”

“You’re the best El,” Eddie said with a dimpled grin.

She smiled shyly and went back to Max and Nancy.

And if that night found Eddie and Steve holding hands in their sleep, no one noticed. Or at least cared enough to mention it.

“You smooth mother fucker!” Max said. “It was all an excuse to get Steve to hold your hand for long periods of time!”

Eddie laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?!”

“There is no way Lucas is going to let me paint his nails to hold hands,” she said bitterly.

He shrugged. “So bake bread or make cookies. Something that requires your hands. Like I keep saying, your jock is going to be different, but you find things that work for you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered darkly. “What happens once he gets use to hand holding?”

Part 5 Part 6

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