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solarmorrigan · 1 year

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See, just because Steve lets Eddie and the kids play D&D at his house now doesn't mean he's really interested in the game, just the same as even though El and Max sometimes tag along, they're really there to hang out, not play. They each bring their own things to do, and one night El brings a ball of yarn and a shiny little metal hook and a vaguely rectangular yarn-thing that she focuses very hard on while the boys shout in the background.

Steve has no idea what she's doing; he'd say she's knitting, except he's almost certain that involves some kind of sticks, not a hook. But since he's not really doing anything himself, he sits down next to her and asks what she's up to.

"Joyce has been teaching me how to crochet. She says it will help with my hand-eye coordination." El holds up her project with a proud smile. "I am starting with a scarf."

It's not the world's most attractive scarf, but it's not like Steve could do better. He's still not entirely sure what crocheting is, to be perfectly honest. "Is that different from knitting?" he asks.

El nods gravely. "It is," she says, and takes to showing him how she loops the yarn over the hook and pulls it through the stitches in her scarf and adds a few more inches to the row she's working on.

When Steve's attention doesn't completely wane during her demonstration, she pulls a second ball of yarn out of her bag and presents it to Steve.

"Oh, I don't–" Steve tries to demur, but El is determined, and Steve has seen entire dimensions pale in the face of her determination.

This is how he finds himself crocheting a little chain of stitches with just his fingers, the same way Joyce had apparently started El off. El beams at him and returns to her own project, occasionally checking on his progress. The chain is a few feet long by the time everyone needs to be driven home, and Steve decides it actually hadn't been a bad way to pass the time. Kind of relaxing.

The next time everyone is over, El sits down with her scarf, and after a short while, Steve sits down next to her. He compliments how much longer the scarf has gotten (and it does seem like the shape has evened out a bit as she's been going along). She smiles and pulls another ball of yarn out of her bag. This time, she has an extra hook and seems intent on showing Steve what to do with it.

Almost involuntarily, Steve's attention flashes to the group clustered around the table, hesitating to take the yarn from El, and she frowns.

"Joyce says these types of skills are important for everyone to have," El says firmly, and, well– Steve's not really going to argue.

He learns how to crochet a chain with the hook. It feels odd in his hands at first—the shape too small, the metal a little too slick, the yarn not wrapping naturally around his fingers the way it does El's—but he gets the hang of it. When El is pleased with his progress, she shows him the stitch she's been using: a simple single crochet. It's tougher than it looks, and Steve understands immediately why El's scarf is so uneven; neither of them have ever done anything like this before.

Still, he doesn't hate it.

In fact, he really kind of enjoys it.

He enjoys it enough that he asks El to show him more the next time she's over. She's still new herself and is really only working with pretty much the same couple of stitches, but she proudly teaches him what she knows, and Steve picks it up as fast as she's able to lay it down.

Steve goes out and buys his own supplies, no longer content with mooching off of El's. He hadn't realized there were so many different kinds of yarn, and resigns himself to awkwardly asking one of the craft store employees what type might be best for beginners.

The employee—a woman about his mother’s age with a much warmer smile and far less judgement in her eyes—explains with great enthusiasm what all those different types of yarn might be used for, and how the size of the hook affects the outcome of the project, and shows him so many different pattern books his head spins. He realizes that she probably upsells him on a lot of shit, but he leaves with a few different sizes of hooks, some new yarn, and more excitement for a hobby than he's felt probably since high school.

El and Robin are the only ones who know about his new hobby, of course. It's not really that he's ashamed to tell the others, he just knows how teenage boys work and he's not keen on giving a bunch of fifteen-year-olds another reason to bully him. Maybe in a few months. In the meantime, he crochets at home while he's listening to the radio or watching TV, and he crochets at work during down times. Robin finds his newfound hobby morbidly fascinating, but vehemently denies any and all offers to teach her.

("I will find a way to damage myself with that hook and I think we both know that," she says. "It's just kind of wild to see you with a grandma hobby."

Steve threatens to tell El she called it that, and Robin shortly finds a new label for it.)

Fall rolls around and the air acquires a chill sometime in mid-October. Steve's been making practice scarves for a little while now (largely because he really only knows how to make rectangles at this point, but he doesn’t have the attention span for a whole blanket just yet), and he even considers wearing his least heinous attempt despite the fact he's never really wanted for good winter clothes. Then he notices Eddie.

Most of their little group has begun dressing appropriately for the weather, but Eddie doesn't do much more than add a pair of fingerless black gloves and maybe a heavier leather jacket to his ensemble. Steve's not even sure it's because he can't afford it – he's pretty sure it's because Eddie is committed to his aesthetic. Nancy had tried to force an extra scarf on him one day after a little cold snap, when they'd woken to frost on the ground (the scarf is blue, patterned with white snowflakes; it's actually Mike’s, but Mike is also refusing to wear it and Steve suspects Nancy doesn’t want to hold it, but also doesn’t want to get in trouble for letting Mike lose it), but Eddie had declined, insisting it doesn't match his vibe.

Steve can respect this. He himself has a certain aesthetic going on. However, he can also see that Eddie is definitely cold, and that just won't do.

He picks through the scarves and other various wooly things he's accumulated so far, but decides none of them would suit Eddie and, besides that, none of them are really warm enough. If he's going to make Eddie a scarf, it ought to be a good one.

So Steve sucks it up and heads into Melvald's one day when he knows Joyce will be on shift, hoping she won't be too busy for a quick chat.

When he catches her, Steve explains that El had shown him the basics of crocheting but that his ambitions have outgrown his skills and maybe if she isn't too busy sometime, Joyce would be willing to show him a little more?

Joyce, because she’s a saint, says she would be delighted, and invites Steve to come over on their next shared day off.

When he gets there, she tries to ask him who he's making the scarf for, and the best he manages is, "...someone."

Joyce bites down on a smile. "Someone?"

"It's a surprise," Steve finally declares.

"For everyone?"

"Yes."

Joyce bravely manages to not laugh at Steve and instead asks him what kind of scarf he thinks Someone would like.

Steve decides that it needs to be thick, but it should also be soft. It should also be textured, because Ed– because Someone really likes fiddling with things. He can't get too ambitious with colors or patterns, but he decides that black and grey stripes will be perfectly suitable.

(He doesn't kid himself into thinking that by the time their brainstorming session is over, Joyce hasn't figured out exactly who he's talking about, but she's kind enough not to say it out loud.)

Steve's always been good with repetition and patterns—it's probably one of the reasons he’d found crocheting so relaxing in the first place—and he picks up the new stitches with ease under Joyce's deft instruction. She sends him home with the practice piece he'd made with some of her scrap yarn, and after a quick stopover at the craft store on his way home (he briefly gets stuck between shades of grey, but eventually decides on the silvery one over the steely one), he's ready to begin.

He expects making the scarf to be tougher, but once he gets into the rhythm of it, he sails right through. It takes him less than a week (albeit devoting a few solid hours to it every day, possibly more on his days off) to end up with what is, if he may say so himself, a pretty fine scarf.

The challenge comes in actually giving it to Eddie.

Christmas would be an excellent excuse for presenting it to him, except that's a little over a month away, and Steve doesn't want Eddie to go cold until then. Instead, he takes to keeping the scarf in his glove compartment just in case the perfect occasion for giving Eddie a scarf arises.

And much to Steve's surprise, one actually does.

It's right after the first real snow, and Steve has insisted on driving to pick Eddie up so they can hang out (Steve has nightmares about Eddie's driving when road conditions are optimal, never mind when the roads may be icy). He can see Eddie shivering under his jacket, blowing warm air into his cupped hands (Steve wonders if he could learn how to crochet gloves at some point, too. Ones with full fingers), so he ever-so-casually gestures to the glove box and tells Eddie, "Hey, if you're cold, I've got an extra scarf in there."

He's possibly not as casual as he hopes he is (or maybe Eddie just sees through him, like he always seems to), because Eddie gives him a look. "You do, huh?"

"Yep."

Steve concentrates very hard on the road in order to avoid Eddie's eyes. It doesn't stop him from hearing the little laugh Eddie lets out before popping open the glove compartment.

"Oh," Eddie says quietly as he pulls the scarf out, likely having been expecting another castoff piece of outerwear. "This is... actually really nice."

For a moment, Steve can't help but glance over to see the way Eddie is fingering the crocheted ridges of the scarf, running a thumb over the bright silver stripes picked out of the black, and he immediately looks back up at the road.

"Yeah. You should– you can, uh. Keep it. If you want," he says, and wonders what happened to the days when he was smooth.

"No, man, this is, like, for real nice. I couldn't take this," Eddie says, though he's still holding the scarf in his lap.

Steve draws a breath in. "I mean, I was kind of hoping you would, since it's for you."

"Seriously?"

They have unfortunately arrived at Steve's house at this point, and there will be no avoiding the conversation now.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I, uh. Made it for you. So you should take it. Don't let my hard work go to waste, yeah?"

"You're shitting me," Eddie unfolds the scarf and holds it up in delighted scrutiny. "You made this?"

(Distantly, Steve appreciates that the emphasis isn't on "you made this?" Like Eddie doesn't immediately doubt he's capable, only that he's holding a handmade item at all.)

"Yeah. No big deal." Steve shrugs.

"You made this for me." Eddie looks at Steve, and it sounds like that had been meant as a question, though it comes out in flat uncertainty.

"Yeah. Just noticed you were cold, but you won't wear anything that doesn't match your aesthetic," Steve tries to tease, wiggling his fingers at Eddie's outfit, but Eddie doesn't say anything in return.

He doesn't say anything for just long enough that Steve gets insecure all over again, reaching hesitantly for the scarf.

"But, I mean, if that's weird, or whatever, you don't have to-"

"Nope. Fuck off, I'm wearing this forever." Eddie loops the scarf quickly around his neck and squeezes the ends in his hands. "Jesus, this is soft."

Steve grins. "I'm not sure it'll last forever, but I can make you another after than one wears out."

"You'd better," Eddie says, and he's grinning too. "So, what, you knit?"

Steve points a very serious finger into Eddie's face. "Crochet. There's a difference," he says sternly.

Then, because he can't help it, he bops the end of Eddie's nose before getting out of the car, leaving Eddie to scramble out behind him, laughing and calling him a dork as he goes.

(The kids, incidentally, don't tease Steve nearly as much as he'd thought they would when they find out.

This is possibly because they're more mature than he gave them credit for, but more likely it’s because El is standing beside him and daring them to say anything unfavorable about their shared hobby.

Mostly they just let it slide, though Dustin demands to know why Eddie got a scarf and he didn't. Then Lucas wants one, too, because Mike and Max have already received various bits of outerwear from El, and he's not about to be left out. And then Robin, of course, will want to know why Steve hasn’t made her anything, once she finds out that he’s making things for the kids.

Steve resigns himself to a busy winter spent under a pile of yarn.

It's not really a hardship.)

[Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

#steve & eleven #steddie #steve harrington #el hopper #eddie munson #stranger things #wanted something wintery before christmas hit #I'm sorry if something about the yarny aspect of this is wrong or awkward #I haven't crocheted in years let me live #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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rottenaero · 1 year

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Ao3

Part 1

Part 3

Part two to the roommates idea

Whenever the mall ‘burns down’, Eddie is just chilling at home; not doing anything special.

Actually, thats a complete lie. He hadn't seen Steve since he left for his shift the day before, and currently has his band+Wayne scattered in the living room as he paces.

“He may as well be dead, he always calls before staying the night somewhere, and he totally despises that place, so why would he stay after hours?” He comes to a halt infront of Jeff who looks considering. “What?!"

“Maybe, consider, he just forgot to call you." Eddie scoffed, “ ‘Maybe he just forgot’, except you don't know him, Jeff. Steve doesn't forget, tell ‘em Wayne."

Wayne nods from his spot on the lazyboy, “ ‘S true, he'd rather call at 2am than have us worrying.”

Gareth rolls his eyes, “Look Edmund, I get your worried about you boyfriend and all but why did we have to get dragged into this?" He complained, and Eddie began pacing again.

“ Not,my boyfriend, yet, and you’re getting-”

A ringing interrupts him.

The pacing stopped almost as soon as it began, and he darts to the phone. “ Y’hello, it's Eddie talking.” A sharp breath drew from the other end of the line.

“Hey Eds."

Eddie smiled, “Holy shit, Stevie. I thought you died. Wayne and the guys are literally gathered in the living room.” Upon hearing the name, Wayne visibly relaxed, going from hunched over to leaning backwards in seconds.

“Yeah I'm- Well shit not okay but I'm not dead.”In the background there was a noise, barely noticeable but-

“Wait, what? Are those sirens? Are you hurt? What the hell-” Wayne leaned forward again.

“I'm at the mall, there's been, uh, an accident? I don't- they took my keys, I need a ride back home.”

“Who took your keys? Steve you can't just be all ominous and-” The phone line shut off. "Fuck!”

Grant, who hasn't been helpful at all, stood up. "What did he do?”

Eddie groans, running a hand through his greasy hair, “Needs us to pick him up, might be hurt. He's such a- Wayne we're taking my van, you guys coming?”

Turns out the answer is yes.

They arrive at the mall five minutes later, mostly because Eddie was driving like a bat outta hell, to every emergency vehicle you can think of, plus thirty more, surrounding the place.

Eddie roles his window down when a cop signals him. “What are you doing over here?"

The metalhead bites his lip, what the hell, “Uh, I'm here to pick up Steve Harrington? He got involved in whatever's happening.”

The cops nods, "Alright, park your vehicle over there, and go get him.”

He does as he's told, a surprising feat showing just how scared he was, because Steve being hurt could mean so many things.

They get out the car, Wayne being the leading man, and head to where the commotion is.

The mall was totally destroyed, a couple kids he didn't know were sitting around, surrounded by their parents, there's a couple teens too, Nancy Wheeler, Johnny Byers, a girl in a sailor costume, and-

Eddie’s heart stopped and he fucking sped forward. “ Holy shit, what the fuck man." Steve looked like hell, understatement of the century but-

His face was bruised and bloody, his hands wrapped in casts, his hair was flat and gross and he was still in his damn sailor costume.

“Hey Munsons, Gareth, Jeff, Grant. It's the whole Scooby gang, or Smurfs, whoever you prefer.” Eddie grabbed his shoulders, and stared him dead in the eye. “ What. The. Fuck. Are you high too?!”

“Just what the hell did you get yourself into. " Wayne said more than asked, shaking his head.

Steve buzzed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and he brought a hand to them and-

God they were split, and bleeding now. He looked back up at the long haired man infront of him, ignoring Wayne's question-not-question.

“Nah, just recovering from being drugged. Hey this is rivveting conversation and shit, but like, I wanna go home and sleep in your bed, man. Or the couch, or the floor.”

He let out a loud laugh, “Fuck I am not picky right now, I'll even take the back of the van.”

“Christ."

They don't talk about it, not after Hellfire goes home, not the next morning, not after Steve heals. They just don't, because the news told them all they need to know, that there was a fire. Eddie just assumed when they said he was drugged, that he meant medically.

(He didn't)

#stranger Things #steddie ficlet #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #and they were roommates #oh my god they were roommates #crisisinverted17 #crisisinverted17's roommate au

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think #no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin'#because i think he looks like one #this is part one out of [undecided]#i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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andavs · 7 days

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One last unhinged theory before the finale kicks off, inspired by @captain-hen’s genius anon: witness protection

Councilwoman Olivia Ortiz is back for reasons, maybe she’s running for mayor or something

She’s buried the details around her son’s death while running a tough on crime platform or maybe getting drugs out of the city, but she’s actually corrupt and has some shady criminal connections

There’s a warehouse fire that’s related to something she’s connected to, 118 responds and they find evidence that wasn’t fully destroyed—not about Ortiz specifically, but something shady happening there

A Bad Guy sees the names Wilson, Han, and Diaz on their turnouts as they're talking to the cops and handing over the evidence they found—maybe Buck and Bobby were in a different section of the building at the time

Ortiz realizes that’s also the team that responded to her son’s accident and they can bring down her entire career if they figure out she’s involved

Her shady connections realize that if she goes down, their pull with the local government also goes down, so they take matters into their own hands to protect their interests

The shady contacts organize a way to take out Hen, Chimney, and Eddie, but Ortiz goes to Athena to warn them because she doesn’t want three innocent people to die

To keep the bad guys from continuing to pursue them or going after anyone else, they fake that the murder plot worked and announce that Hen, Chimney, and Eddie all died in the line of duty

They get one last goodbye at the station before they get hustled into nondescript vans and taken into protection while Athena builds a case with Ortiz to bring down her criminal connections

Their families know they’re actually alive but have to keep up the facade of grieving, and also they’re apart and can’t communicate with each other, except maybe sending rare messages/photos through Athena that they don’t get to keep.

It’s a storyline that gives everyone something to do:

Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are suddenly isolated somewhere new and living under new names

Chimney finally married the love of his life and now they can’t even be together until the case is finished, and now he’s the one watching Jee grow up from afar

Maddie’s completely on her own with Jee for the first time since her PPD, but now she’s totally got this mom thing down—she just has to juggle that with work so maybe we get more of the Lees!

Hen and Karen have Mara who’s only just getting comfortable with them, only for Hen to be taken away and for Karen to suddenly have to handle all of it by herself

Who is Hen when she’s not a firefighter, paramedic, or mother?

Eddie’s finally over Shannon and ready to move forward and then he’s yanked out of his life and completely isolated, probably working as a mechanic or something

Buck has to move into Eddie’s house with Chris and actually take on the role of full time parent, even though they both know Eddie will be back in a few months

(Maybe Buck and Eddie had a Moment but all of this happened before they got to talk about it and now they can’t talk about but they both know something shifted but will it still be shifted when all of this is finally over?)

Athena’s working on a seriously high profile case and all the dangers that come with it

Bobby’s holding the remains of his team together while knowing it’s temporary, and also probably still recovering from whatever the fuck is about to happen to him, if not physically then mentally

#getting it out of my brain before i start writing a fic or something

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moonstruckme · 20 days

Note

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

i’m such a sucker for a fake dating trope, could i request a drabble with eddie or tasm!peter? (i feel like out of all of the boyfriends they are the most likely to do it lol) <3

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

You drop Eddie’s hand as soon as you’re around the corner. “Baby?” your voice comes out disgusted, blissfully steady. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“I don’t have a shit ton of practice being couple-y,” he replies, huffy. “Sorry if I didn’t have time to whip out my domestic dictionary.”

You shrug. “Guess I just expected a little more creativity from you.” He does spend most of his time fucking around with chords and making up stories involving dragons and mages.

You cross your arms, walking with a couple of feet between you and your part-time boyfriend now that there’s no one around to see. Eddie turns to look at you, his hair falling over his shoulder. “You like it.”

He’s teasing, you think. He can’t possibly know that. But your face heats and you can’t look up from the sidewalk, because there had been an undeniable commotion in your stomach when Eddie had said in front of everyone, voice smooth and sweet as iced tea, You getting tired, baby? I’m about ready to head out.

It had been a warm sort of commotion, more bees than butterflies, buzzing all the way from the pit of your stomach up into your brain, where they’ve stayed, humming quietly even now.

You try to pass your flustering off as pique, rolling your eyes and making sure Eddie sees. “It’s infantilizing,” you say. “I hate when guys call girls that, it’s so weird. I’m not a literal baby.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You look over, and Eddie’s grinning at you now, laying it thick on in the way he has been all night, except that was for show and this appears to be just for you. With how wobbly it makes your limbs feel, you don’t know how much more of it you can take. “You seemed a lot like a baby, the way you let me open every door for you all day and were just about falling asleep on my shoulder a couple of minutes ago.”

And just like that, the happy buzzing quiet. Real indignation sparks to life in your chest. “I thought you were just being chivalrous for a minute there, but I figured that was ridiculous.” For a second, Eddie looks confused. “And anyway,” you go on, “it’s not like you were any better. I thought I was gonna have to pry your hand off my waist if you got any more comfortable.”

“You still might have to,” he teases, reaching around your side to squeeze at that favored spot. Your vexation breaks up as a laugh jostles out of you, and you try to move away but Eddie doesn’t let you get far, pulling you roughly against his side.

Any more of this, and you’ll have to get a tattoo of his handprint on your waist with Eddie’s spot written inside. It’ll be tasteless and suggestive, and you know Eddie will laugh for days.

“I’ve got to find something equally punishing for you now,” you say. “How do you feel about sweetpea?”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No? Honeyboo?”

“You know—”

“Pookie?”

“—I actually don’t care what you—”

“Oh, I know! Stud muffin.”

“Would you shut up?” Eddie squeezes you around the middle again, cutting you off with your own giggles. He doesn’t look nearly as embarrassed as you’d like, still grinning down at you like you’re a source of endless amusement. “Stud muffin actually isn’t bad, but I don’t give a shit what you call me, so long as it’s you.”

Some of your playfulness fizzles out, and he smirks at what he takes for your dissatisfaction, stopping and grasping your upper arms to look you in the eye. The metal of his rings are cool on your skin. “Got that, baby?” he asks, stretching the endearment out long and teasing.

It takes you a second to react, grateful for Eddie’s hands on your arms as you try to remember how to balance on your own. Once you do, you scoff, ripping out of his grasp and continuing ahead. “Fuck you,” you say.

Eddie all but skips to catch up to you. “Oh, you wish.”

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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months

Note

Request: smooth as butter Steve flirting with Eddie while the CC boys watch in shock as their ruthless Eddie turns red(?) and gets all blushy bc he doesn't know how to deal with this STEVE???? making it better:it happens during DND the one time Eddie gets Steve to play & the entire time Steve's human bard character flirting hardcore with Eddie via his NPC's (the kids aren't involved in this one just Steddie & Corroded Coffin boys)

MY LOVEEEEEEE!!!! Okay I have never played. I know. Hush, I know. My best friend wants me to so bad she bought me dice. And like, I probably will, but like Steve, my brain is trying to not only deal with math, but also just how involved it all is. I like games that take about half a brain cell. I'm also super bad at the flirting thing, in real life and when writing. I just cannot do it my friends. But I did my best here and I hope it isn't the worst😂 - Mickala ❤️

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

He was doing this for Dustin.

He made a character sheet with Lucas, went over the basics, learned that maybe the math part wouldn’t be so bad.

And then he convinced Eddie to let him do a one shot with the Corroded Coffin guys so he could get a feel for it all without Dustin knowing.

He didn’t get that creative with his character according to Lucas, but he was also supportive and understanding that Steve wasn’t doing this as a regular thing.

Eddie explained to the guys that they needed to be patient, that Steve was genuinely trying to learn.

“Everyone was new once, so I don’t wanna hear anything from any of you about how annoying it is to have to take it so slow and explain everything. He’s trying to do a nice thing for Henderson and we’re going to be nice.”

Everyone groaned, but nodded in agreement.

“Are we talking about your crush on him yet, or is that still off the table?” Gareth had the gall to ask.

“There’s no crush to even have on the table,” Eddie said.

“Sure, dude.”

—--------------

Things were not going well.

Well, okay, they weren’t going bad.

It’s just that Lucas apparently explained to Steve that being in character was very important and Steve failed to mention that his character’s charisma was the highest possible option.

He shouldn’t be surprised by that.

Maybe he’s just surprised with all the blatant flirting.

The guys keep shooting him looks like they know that he’s struggling, that they can see that he is barely able to hold onto the power the DM usually has.

“The guard stops you, but he recognizes you. ‘You’re the one who stole the sword!’ he yells, catching the attention of the other guards. You panic because your party is still hiding in the bush with strict instructions not to be seen unless they draw their weapons on you. How will you respond?”

Steve smirked.

Not good. Run away. Get out, Munson, you’re fucked.

But he couldn’t leave.

He was the DM, and they were barely halfway done with what he had planned.

He had to see this through and he had to give Steve the best possible introduction to this game.

It was for Dustin.

“I’d probably have to insist that it wasn’t me he saw, but that I sure wish I’d seen him before. Maybe wink at him,” Steve said. “Actually, definitely wink at him.”

Steve looked at everyone else, smile silently asking for approval.

Everyone smirked at Eddie before giving him a thumbs up.

Traitors.

He’d be saying something later for sure.

“The guard is still suspicious, but waves the other guards off. He looks you over, circles you, decides to take your only weapon.”

“Not my only weapon. I still have plenty of time to distract him.”

Eddie squints at him, just as suspicious as the guard in their game.

“Roll for-”

“Persuasion, right?” Steve interrupted.

“Sure. Roll for persuasion, Stevie,” Eddie pretended not to be flustered at Steve remembering aspects of the game.

“18!” Steve yelled. “Plus the 13. So that’s…” he held his hand up while he thought about it. “31!”

Everyone at the table cheered except for Eddie.

He knew what was coming.

“I offer to let the guard check me for weapons in private if he’s still suspicious. I tell him it’s better to take all my clothes off where he can do something about it.”

Eddie hated what was happening.

He hated that he could feel how red his face was, and how much Steve was thriving off of putting Eddie off of his own game.

He hated the way the guys were all watching, literally holding their breath for Eddie’s reaction.

“The guard decides to lead you past the gate, but instead of taking you to the entrance to the castle, he leads you down a side road. It leads to a small cottage, and you start to worry that your party won’t find you.”

Steve doesn’t even hesitate.

“I let him lead me where he wants. I can take it.”

Eddie is going to die. Right here.

Steve knows what he’s doing, what he’s saying.

He knows what he is doing to Eddie.

And, okay, maybe they haven’t talked about it, maybe they’ve both been avoiding the very obvious tension between them for months. Maybe Eddie could have taken a chance any of the times they’ve been alone lately to finally talk about it.

Or maybe Steve would just keep flirting with him through this stupid game until Eddie couldn’t even do what he needed to do.

And everyone around them would just get to watch it unfold.

Jeff, his only friend at the moment, cleared his throat and decided to speak up.

“I think the rest of the party should follow. Just in case he needs backup. Guys?”

Thank God for Jeff.

It continues, the rest of the party finds a way to get past the guards, and Eddie admits to himself that he’s making it easier on purpose.

He wants, no, needs this game to end.

And he gets his wish ten minutes later when the phone rings and it’s Dustin, begging for a ride.

Eddie ignores the fact that he called his trailer knowing Steve would be here already, but the rest of the group doesn’t.

While Steve is on the phone, they all quietly tease Eddie.

“If I knew Steve would fluster you this much, I think we would have invited him a long time ago,” Grant said.

“Yeah, we probably would’ve had much easier campaigns if he joined in high school,” Gareth added.

“Yeah? Next time you all get to die, how about that? Terrible, bloody deaths. Gareth gets tortured.”

Before any of them could answer, Steve came into the room, looking a bit sad.

“Sorry about this guys. I couldn’t really come up with a reason that I couldn’t go without giving it away what I was doing. We could pause and come back to it later?”

Eddie knew the guys would be fine with just calling it here; They’d managed to get far enough along that they knew it would have been a good win for them.

“Nah, you did good. Maybe you can join us for real after Dustin’s birthday campaign,” Jeff said.

Steve beamed back at him.

“Maybe, yeah. If you guys are cool with it.”

Was he…shy?

He was just flirting up a storm! Absolutely taking the lead in a game he’d never played before! And now he was being shy?

“Hell yeah!” They all agreed.

Great, Steve was making friends with his friends.

“Alright!” Steve clapped his hands together. “I’m off to get the kid. Thanks guys!”

He started to leave, but stopped by Eddie.

Then his lips were on the top of Eddie’s head.

“Bye guys!” He said as he continued to walk out.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The guys were all staring at him with the same wide, unblinking eyes.

The front door to the trailer closed.

“Uh,” Eddie said.

“Did he-”

“He just-”

“On your head.”

“Uh.”

The front door opened.

Steve was standing in the doorway to the kitchen area, eyes wide, unblinking.

“Did I-”

“Uh huh,” Eddie answered.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that…okay?”

He was looking nervously between the guys and Eddie, like he expected someone to punch him.

“Oh! Yeah. No, they’re good. Um. Did you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah. I kinda…always do?”

“Always?”

“Yes. It’s kind of all I think about.”

Eddie took it all back; This was the best and he had never been happier that Steve wanted to play D&D.

He didn’t even care about the guys watching as he stood from his chair and walked to Steve in the doorway.

“Me too.”

He pulled Steve against him, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the table, and kissed him.

The kiss left them both breathless, despite being barely more than a peck.

“Um, I should go get Dustin,” Steve whispered.

“Yeah. Come back after?”

“Will everyone still be here?” Steve asked nervously.

“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.

“Good. I’ll be back soon, then.”

When Steve left, Eddie turned back to the group, lovestruck grin on his face.

“So it’s off the table now, right?” Gareth asked, smirking.

“Shut up.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #request #hellfire club #but without the kids

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buddiefix · 4 months

Text

Fake Dating/Didn't Know They Were Dating Fic's (Part 1)

The following are some buddie fanfiction involving fake dating, or the characters realizing they've been partners all along.

What If I Fall In Love Backwards? by RedRidingStiles

9-1-1 (TV)

"I feel like we should go save him," Chimney said as he and Hen loaded their drunk and injured patient into the back of the ambulance (day drinking and balconies do not mix), nodding his head towards the small swarm of college girls surrounding a highly uncomfortable Buck. "And by we I mean you, Eddie." "Yeah I got this," Eddie reassured, cupping one hand around his mouth before shouting, "Hey Buckley!" "What's up, Hot Stuff?" Buck called back, his eyes holding crystal blue relief as they met Eddie's across the lawn. Eddie tried to bite back his amused smile but didn't succeed when his next words had Buck grinning like a complete fool. "You. Me. Tonight. Wear something pretty." "Edmundo Diaz, are you trying to ask me out on a date?"

—or—

five Times Buck and Eddie saved each other by pretending to be together and the one time Christopher helps

Language: English Words: 9,879 Chapters: 1/1

baby, say you'll always keep me by hattalove

9-1-1 (TV)

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and the darkness behind his eyelids takes on a white edge. “Be good. Nice to be married,” he yanks on Buck’s t-shirt, “best friend.” Finally, Buck takes a breath that sounds off somehow, but he laughs too, and that sounds normal, Eddie thinks. A normal laugh. “Sure, Eds,” he says, and there’s his hand in Eddie’s hair again, a puff of breath on the crown of Eddie’s head like Buck leaned in to press a kiss there and then stopped, but why would he stop—“I’ll marry you if you remind me tomorrow.”

—or—

The one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing.

Language: English Words: 8,251 Chapters: 1/1

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies

9-1-1 (TV)

“You should just move in,” Eddie said one night. They were already laying in bed, Buck’s face half-buried in his pillow. “Where would I sleep, Eddie,” Buck deadpanned, sleep heavy in his voice. “Here,” Eddie said, not entirely sure how Buck missed that part. “The same place you’ve been sleeping.” Bobby raised an eyebrow when Buck updated his address on all of the necessary paperwork, but Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what the big deal was.

—or—

The story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

Language: English Words: 7,206 Chapters: 1/1

we could follow the sparks, i’ll drive by markofalover

9-1-1 (TV)

“Oh! You must be Mr. Diaz!” someone says from behind him, and Buck spins around clumsily, all long legs, to find a woman with a Miss Perez tag stuck to her blouse. She’s smiling politely, white teeth against red lips, and it takes just a second too long to process what she says.

—or—

everyone thinks Buck is the other Mr. Diaz.

Language: English Words: 6,539 Chapters: 1/1

i'd never let you fall and break your heart by autistic_nightfury

9-1-1 (TV)

Four times Buck and Eddie pretended to be in a relationship so people wouldn't bother them, and the one time they actually were together.

Language: English Words: 5,808 Chapters: 1/1

Say Cheese by S_lycopersicum

9-1-1 (TV)

"Um... anything left to get?" "Snacks for that girl who has diabetes. Amy, Audrey, uh..." "Abby." "Pfff... I'd remember if she was called Abby," Buck half-heard Eddie say, but his focus was on the other end of the grocery store aisle, where at 11pm at night his ex-girlfriend Abby Clark was carefully assessing two different brands of provolone.

Language: English Words: 4,927 Chapters: 1/1

of bake sales and overdue realizations by brewrosemilk

9-1-1 (TV)

Eddie doesn’t notice it until it becomes a thing that happens even when it’s just him and Buck, without Chris anywhere near them - but even then, he doesn’t find it strange, or give it much thought. Buck is the one who starts ending their phone calls with a quick ‘love you’ but it doesn't take long before Eddie does the same, often beating him to it. It’s never a big deal - most of the time it’s something along the lines of;

‘Hey, can you grab some milk on your way over? We’re out.’ ‘Yeah, yeah, I got it.’ ‘Great, love you.’ ‘Love you.’

Before long, they’re even doing it in texts.

Language: English Words: 4,823 Chapters: 1/1

the secrets we keep (the ones that spill out) by sparegarbage

9-1-1 (TV)

The 118 is a close-knit family. It’s not surprising given how much time they spend together: endless hours at the firehouse, barbecues on the weekends, the occasional night at the bar. They’re a family, yes... but Buck and Eddie don’t have to tell them everything. They’re allowed their secrets, really, and it’s not… weird. Really, it’s not. It’s just that sometimes the 118 asks too many questions, and sometimes there’s just no good (or clear or logical) way to explain. Exhibit A: How Buck ended up in Eddie’s bed during a sleepover (and how he’s been sleeping there most nights since).

—Or—

Buck and Eddie comfort each other with cuddles, hugs, and kisses (platonically—or so they think).

Language: English Words: 4,624 Chapters: 1/1

With(out) A First Date by firstdegreefangirl

9-1-1 (TV)

Buck and Eddie become boyfriends. Six months later, they start dating.

Language: English Words: 10,282 Chapters: 13/13

it's always been you by coupe_de_foudre

9-1-1 (TV)

“What do I normally get from there?” Eddie asks him, chin settled back onto his shoulder. “The kung pao chicken.” he answers almost instantaneously, having all of Eddie’s usual take-out orders memorised by now. It comes in handy for when they need to get food in quick whilst navigating work and Christopher. It’s not weird. He, unfortunately, misses the odd look that Maddie sends him. As well as the way that Hen hides a snicker behind a cough.

Language: English Words: 8,700 Chapters: 6/6

(Friendly reminder I do not own any of the works listed in this post, and all can be located on archiveofoureown.org)

#9-1-1 #9-1-1 buddie #9-1-1 fanfiction #9-1-1 fandom #9-1-1 fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #118 #118 firefam #buddie #buck x eddie

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mrwinterr · 8 months

Text

enjoy the ride | ~preview

Pairing: Eddie Munson x PornStar!Female Reader

Summary: Eddie meets his favorite actress. It's you. You’re his favorite adult film star.

Warnings: None right now, but will be 18+ (smut) so no minors plz.

Disclaimer: None of the spooky events of the Stranger Things (2016) series take place in this piece. Everything is just where it’s at because this is made up.

Pre A/N: I've had this in my docs for a while, so instead of letting it rot, I'm posting a preview. Enjoy, I guess.

Eddie didn’t have plans for the weekend. No event to deal at, no gig booked, no campaign prepared, just the prospect of hoping to relax, a simple night in.

So for him, it was a surprise to run into you since you’d graduated. He couldn’t help but notice the slight transformations you’d undergone. You had seldom spoken to Eddie throughout the school years except for in passing or the occasional transactions involving substances, which had been mere business rather than personal. He thought you were cute back then, but with the passing of time, it had brought about significant growth and development, catching Eddie’s full attention once more.

His mind raced as he contemplated the possibilities that lay before him. The thought of reconnecting with you, a gateway to a possibility of exploring a potential deeper connection. Would he come up and say hi to you? Spit out something witty? Sell you more weed? Ask about what movie you’re looking at or how have you been since leaving him in the educational prison? Not that it was your fault he got held back… Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, his fight or flight mode was activated and he chose to flee.

He nearly knocks heads with Steve as he crashes into the counter, startling Robin at the register.

“Jesus, dude, what’s the rush? We still have half an hour before we close,” Steve says, annoyance seeping in.

“Did you guys know you have a fucking movie star in your store?!” Eddie whispers loudly disregarding Steve’s remark and the weird stare from Robin.

Bewildered by this question, the two exchanged confused looks in response to his words. The store was so dead, and your hushed presence as you browsed through their selections, had caused them to forget they weren’t alone. As far as they were concerned it was just Eddie inside the building with them. They just wanted to close up shop and go home.

You weren’t looking for any movie in particular actually, but when you noticed Family Video now had added an adult section you were curious to see the collection they offered, even more that some of your films made it on the shelf.

You didn’t care that your face was on display, especially in a small town of close minded people to see. It was your life after all. You were here for a good time, not a long time, right? Not to mention it was kind of an ego booster to know that the people who didn’t give you the time of day now wanted you or at the very least, good or bad, thoughts of you invaded their minds. It was sadistic and at the same time amusing because oh, had the tables turned.

A smirk etched its way upon your lips as the realization washed over you - you had made it…in some sense. Perhaps not to the heights of stardom, but in that moment, it felt as though you were on top of the world, a quiet victory.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was a fan of your work, a fan of your movies. It had all started when he rented a different tape starring his then former favorite actress. You were in the bonus scene included. You instantly stole the spotlight for him that instead of finishing off to a full movie, he managed to with a short three minute preview of you. It didn’t take him long to make a connection as to why you looked familiar.

Going back to her closing duties, Robin turns away from the conversation as Steve holds his slightly irritated gaze at Eddie trying to make sense of what he was talking about.

“Who are you talking about?” He asks, response laced with confusion seeking clarity.

Eddie’s disbelief was evident as he blinked once, then a few more times, and shaking his head, unable to comprehend that they were unaware of the other person that was in the same building as them.

“Y/N!” He finally answers them, “Y/N is here,” he says again, pointing discreetly in the direction of the secluded area of the store, the pair realizing it was from the adult section.

Met with blank stares, Eddie let out a sigh of defeat escape his lips, shoulders slumped in the process, displaying clear disappointment in his friends. You were a big thing to him and the lack of shared enthusiasm only deflated his mood. The disconnect between their understanding of your presence and his own excitement weighed heavily on Eddie’s spirit as he quickly realized that they didn’t recognize you.

“Y/N. Y’know…Hawkins High Class of ‘84. Pornstar Y/N,” Eddie hints.

“Pornstar?” Robin questioned, surprise evident in her voice.

“Y/N? Sweet, quiet, Y/N?” Steve asked, seeking confirmation as if he couldn’t believe what his friend was saying.

“Yes, that Y/N!” Eddie affirmed.

The same sense of smug satisfaction stayed with you and only increased with the conversation you overheard when you made your way to checkout.

As you eavesdropped on Eddie’s hurried conversation with Robin and Steve, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the intensity and urgency in his voice, especially when he was talking about you. The words spilled from his mouth in a rapid succession that left Steve and Robin struggling to keep up.

“Hold up. Did you say she’s a pornstar now?” Robin asked, needing further clarification to which Eddie nodded in response.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Steve asks only to be met with Eddie’s widened eyes conveying a “how else do you think, idiot?” kind of way.

“Oh! Ew, dude!” Steve yells, expressing his disgust before backing away.

“You had to ask,” Robin chuckled, finding the situation now amusing.

“Come on, man. Grow up. It’s totally normal,” Eddie retorted, debunking Steve’s appalled demeanor. Robin nodded in agreement.

“Still, I don’t want to think about it,” Steve insisted, crossing his arms.

“Whatever. Did you guys know she was even in here?” Eddie asked.

“No. I guess we forgot when you got here. She’s probably been here for a while,” said Steve.

“She got here a little before you did,” Robin suddenly recalls, "I remember now because Dingus flirted up a storm with her.”

“Don’t start with that,” Steve quickly defends himself, “I wasn’t the only one doing the flirting,” he added as the two revived their unsettled debate from earlier.

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, silencing the two, “She’s been in here that long and I’ve been walking around this place like a damn tool wasting my time?” he exclaimed in frustration.

“Well, what would you have done if you knew I was here?” You piped up, throwing Eddie a curveball, your smooth voice catching all three of their attention.

Eddie spun around, his mouth opening and closing without uttering a single world. He struggled to grasp his own thoughts, attempting to decide on his next move. Every ounce of self-confidence he just had seemed to evaporate from his being as his eyes traveled up and down your figure.

Post A/N: I'll finish this someday...but thoughts?

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #smut #mrwinterr writes

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stobinesque · 1 year

Text

talking could, if we'd just dare (you know that i'll forgive you), pt. 1

@steddie-week day 6: misunderstandings / "You Lookin' at Me Lookin' at You" by Ozzy Osbourne | ~5.5k words | G or T inspired by this post from @inklessletter!

If Eddie was being honest, he’d never actually paid that much attention to Steve Harrington. Sure, it was impossible not to know of him. But for most of his life it had simply been…unimportant, to know about the various goings on of the Class of ‘85’s royal court. Harrington was rich, a bit of a bitch, and kept company with other rich bitches, and so Eddie neatly categorized him with all the other pretty, rich jocks, and went about his day. Life was easier when there was an order to such things. Keep the smalltown, upper-middle class heroes to one side, and the freaks and degenerates to the other, and everyone could live in an uneasy sort of harmony until they walked the stage and left this rathole behind.

Of course, repeating senior year thrice had put a wrench in that plan.

Meanwhile, Dustin Henderson had thrown the whole damn toolbox into the whole not-paying-attention-to-one-Steven-MiddleName-Harrington plan.

And whatever the fuck was going on now had just blown everything out of the water.

(Or into the water, as the case may be—except the freaky parallel hellscape they’d all dove into seemed to be utterly devoid of the substance, so maybe the original metaphor worked just fine.)

So now he had to contend with the fact that Steve Harrington was a) a pretty nice dude to recent victims of smalltown witch-hunts who had just been thrust into what was apparently a years-long government conspiracy involving monsters and mind-controlling wizards, b) a bit of a dork, c) friends with a whole bunch of dorks, most of whom were four or five years younger than him, d) admirably—though perhaps self-destructively—protective of said dorks, e) just as much of a badass as Henderson claimed, and, most distressingly: f) extremely hot while doing so.

The being a protective badass part, not all the other ones.

(The other parts Eddie was retroactively filing under “adorable,” and “cute.”)

The expression Steve got on his face when Eddie lobbed his battle vest at him was also priceless, so at that point Eddie figured, fuck it. What did he have to lose from some harmless flirting? The chances of him making it out the other side of this both alive and un-incarcerated were dwindling by the second, and it’s not like he ran any risk of things going anywhere. (Harrington might be a good dude, and alternate dimensions and monsters and superpowers apparently existed, but Steve Harrington being anything other than a straight man with Traditional American Values™ strained credulity—and the Munson Doctrine—far past any acceptable limit.)

After all, if there was one thing that Eddie had actually learned from D&D, it was that a little bit of flirting and fun could take the sting out of any TPK.

🦇🦇🦇

If Steve was being honest with himself—which he’d been making a concerted effort to try to do since fall of ‘84—he could admit that his…jealousy…of Munson predated Dustin joining Hellfire. His whole climbing-on-cafeteria-tables schtick was kind of obnoxious, sure. But up until he’d wound up flunking his first try at senior year, Eddie'd had this sort of dorky-but-cool aura that Steve wished he was apathetic enough about other people’s opinions to achieve.

For a man who seemed to genuinely believe he was a coward, Eddie Munson was so…loudly and unapologetically himself. In Hawkins, Indiana—a place that quite literally wanted to kill him for how much of a freak he was. And, sure, some of that came down to the whole wanted-for-murder thing. But the man had also spent the better part of the past twelve hours flirting with a former jock—whom Eddie himself admitted to thinking was a douche up until a couple days ago!—so Steve had the sneaking suspicion that there was probably a corner of the town that already had it out for Munson long before Chrissy Cunningham’s body was found in his trailer.

And it wasn’t that Steve wanted to get into metal, or that Dragons game, or start wearing hand-printed t-shirts and attaching his wallet to a chain. He just wished that even after all the years of monsters, and government threats, and Russian torture, he didn’t still feel the need to hold himself to standards set by other people.

If anyone was a coward, it was Steve.

And there was something kind of…nice—reassuring, even—about the fact that Eddie seemed to feel the same way—but in reverse—about him. Like together maybe they could take the bravest parts of the other and make them their own.

And underneath it all, Steve could admit, was the fact that Eddie was…pretty.

So. Steve was having a bit of a crisis

“Robin, I’m having a crisis.”

“We’re all having a crisis, dingus,” she shot back, slapping at his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“No— no, not that.” Steve started emptying one of the bottles of vodka they’d procured into the half-dead grass. “I’m talking about the whole—” Steve waved a hand over towards where Eddie and Dustin were horsing around. “The Eddie thing.”

“Oh, you mean the fact that he’s been blatantly flirting with you since you got eaten by bats?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Robin, I’m talking about the blatant flirting.”

“And…why is that causing a crisis?”

Steve fish-mouthed at her. “B-because…” He leaned forward with a finger held aloft, ready to waggle it in her face. He paused. Frowned. “Well, because…” Steve threw up his hands. “I don’t know! A few days ago the man thought I was a douche. Literally just yesterday he was, like, hot-and-cold trying to throw me at Nancy, while also ogling my chest hair, and now he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and trying to get into my personal space? It doesn’t make sense, Robin!”

“Welcome to the club, buddy.” She raised her brows at him pointedly. And, yeah, that was fair, he guessed.

“And,” He started again, “And– I’ve also got Henderson insisting that I win Nancy back—he does seem to have finally dropped the whole are-you-secretly-dating-Robin thing, though, which—”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Yeah. But, on top of that Nancy has also been making eyes at me, but she’s still with Jonathan so I don’t know what to do about that. And it’s all just a mess, Robs! I’m a mess.”

“Yeah, well, that’s been true for ages, Stevie.”

“Thanks, Robin. That’s very helpful.”

“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to tell me that I’ve got to ‘be myself,’ and put myself out on a limb with Vickie, while you’re out gallivanting with Helen or Jackie or whoever—”

“Heidi—”

“Whatever.” Robin waved her hand dismissively. “My point is: you keep throwing yourself at all of these girls who only know the old you—even if you’re trying to give them the new-and-improved model—and you haven’t even tried to go after a guy, and I think we both know why. And now you’ve hit the jackpot of what every tragic gay teenager in smalltown America can only dream of: you’ve got someone blatantly, and undeniably into you, who you also like back, and you’re telling me that you’re having a crisis? Need I remind you of the tableau we were treated to back at The War Zone?”

Steve sighed. “I know, Robs. You’re right.” Steve jammed a funnel into the neck of the bottle he was working on, and the two of them kept building molotov cocktails in the dying evening light, as Steve tried to reassure Robin that she still had a chance with Vickie—which she did, and Robin took his mind off his own impending disaster. But, if Steve had even a shadow of a chance of getting to hook up with a guy, Robin deserved to have a romance of her own. As much as Robin was afraid to see it, Steve was pretty sure he recognized that conflicted look Vickie’d had in her eyes when she’d spotted Robin in the store. There was something there, he was sure of it.

But maybe Vickie was like him. Maybe she’d only just learned this new thing about herself. Robin—and presumably Eddie—had had at least a couple of years to sit with this knowledge about themselves and come to terms with it. But for Steve (and Vickie?) it was still so scarily and terribly new. With girls, Steve knew how to play the field. He knew what was expected of him—what role he had to fill. But with Eddie a guy, all the rules went out the window; all of his scripts: useless. He’d have to start from scratch, and build something completely different from anything he’d been taught to want or expect before.

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, though. Because Robin was right: they had more important things—end-of-the-world shaped things—to worry about. His love life could wait. Eddie could wait.

They all just needed to make it out of there alive.

🎸🎸🎸

Eddie survived.

They won.

Eddie survived, and so did everyone else, and they won.

Eddie kept repeating it to himself, because he couldn’t quite believe it.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the fact that in the end running away was exactly what he needed to do to make sure they all made it out in one piece—more or less.

He’d walked right out of hell with nothing more to show for it than a few scratches up his sides, and a ring of bruises ‘round his neck. In the end, Steve was the only person other than Red who needed a hospital stay of any kind, because what would have been manageable wounds on day one, had become life-threatening after days of infection and improper care.

A future in a state penitentiary also seemed to be out of the cards. There was probably nothing any of them could say or do to convince the general Hawkins populace of his innocence, but Dr. Owens and his ilk had crafted a cover story believable enough to win over Powell and Callahan, at least. More to the point, though: all charges had officially been dropped, and the case was closed.

Now there was just the mortifying process of figuring out how to move on. Or at least forward.

That was the part you didn’t see in movies. No one showed the recovery. Because what was so interesting about watching someone pull their life and body back together? As though healing wasn’t just as much a part of the story as the falling apart.

Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit that it was driving him a bit mad. Because these kids all seemed to be seasoned veterans at it. They hadn't just snapped back to their relatively-easy-going-but-bitchy baselines by any means—Lucas and Dustin especially seemed incredibly subdued in response to the extent of Max's and Steve's injuries, respectively—but they moved around one another with a care and familiarity that spoke to years of experience.

“How did you do this?” Eddie scrubbed a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots. He and Robin were posted by Steve's bedside—he still spent most of his days semi- to unconscious. And while Eddie didn’t necessarily think it made a whole lot of sense for him to be spending more time at Steve’s bedside than the kids did, Robin was only ever dragged away from him kicking and screaming, and as the newest member of the apocalypse posse above the age of twelve, he was in desperate need of her guidance.

“How’d I do what?” Her typically-raspy voice sounded paper thin, and there were deep, dark circles under both eyes.

“I don’t know—!” Eddie flapped a frantic hand around, like he could manifest words and meaning into being. Something about it made the corners of Robin’s mouth twitch up. “Any of it? You–you dealt with a flesh monster, apparently, and you’re just...walking around on two feet, probably ready to graduate—which is more than I could guarantee for myself—”

“Hey, you will—”

“Not the point, Buckley! The point is, up until this new bout of freaky shit popped into existence, you seemed like you were walking around Hawkins without a care in the world. So how’d you do it? What’s your secret?”

Robin scoffed. “If you think I was walking around without being terrified every day, you either weren’t paying attention, or you’re a lot less smart than I gave you credit for, Munson.”

Eddie grimaced. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not what I meant, I just…you seem like you managed to pull yourself back together—whereas I feel seconds away from total collapse.”

“Yeah, that’s not just a you thing.” Robin twisted one of her rings around her finger. “But you wanna know what kept me upright? It was Steve. I don’t think I would have made it through the last eight months without him. And I know he’s gonna be alright, but I am still terrified that something will happen and he’ll get ripped away from me.”

Eddie frowned. He didn’t think he’d been picking up on those kinds of vibes between Harrington and Buckley, but the way she spoke about him… “Are the two of you, like, a thing?”

Robin barked out a laugh. “No! Not at all. I mean, he is the most important person in my life, and I would both kill and die for him. But, like, in a normal, platonic way.”

“...I’ll take you at your word for the ‘platonic’ part, but there is absolutely nothing normal about what you just said. You two are freaky for each other.”

Robin giggle-snorted, and it scrunched her nose up in a way that filled Eddie with warmth. Despite everything about his…everything, he’d never been short on friends—but it always felt nice to find another one. “Yeah, yeah I guess we are.”

“Mmm…Bobbie? ‘Zat you?” The beeping of Steve’s heart monitor picked up a little speed, and the man in question’s eyelids fluttered open. Robin immediately unraveled from the folded-up position she’d adopted in the hospital chair, and reached out to take his hand into her own.

“Yeah, Stevie, it’s me.”

Steve squeezed her hand, before his eyes started scanning the room—going wide when they landed on Eddie. “Oh. Eddie.” A light pink flush broke over his face, and he averted his gaze almost as quickly as he met Eddie’s. That kept happening whenever Steve woke up, and Eddie didn’t know what to make of it, but it always left him off-kilter in a way he didn’t want or know how to put a name to. He always took it as his cue to leave.

“Well,” he started, with forced cheer, and a shit-eating grin. He pushed himself up from the chair and dusted off his knees. “I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to catch up,”

“Not lovebirds—” Steve slurred, at the same time Robin exclaimed, “Ew, Munson!”

Eddie just cackled and sauntered off with a jaunty salute.

🦇🦇🦇

Steve felt like he was losing his mind.

He'd been out of the hospital for a few weeks now, but he almost wished he was back there, because every waking second was just a never ending parade of pain and confusion.

Fuck, why did almost dying always hurt so much?

The upside of being awake and ambulatory, was that Eddie had finally stopped running out of the room whenever Steve was awake for longer than two seconds. The down side—which was unfortunately directly connected to the aforementioned upside—was that Eddie was being weird.

And, okay, Steve had an admittedly shallow pool of evidence from which to draw his comparisons from. But the fact remained that Eddie’s behavior towards him pre- and post-Vecna-slaying were worlds’ apart. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d tried everything: playing coy, bringing him small gifts, finding excuses to talk to him one-on-one when the rest of the group was gathered together. But none of it seemed to work.

What Steve wanted was to just be able to rock up to the trailer with a bouquet of flowers and ask him out to a night at Enzo’s. But even without the whole recently-wanted-for-murder thing, the two of them going out on what was obviously a date in Hawkins was not only a bad idea, but actively dangerous. And without his typical romance rituals to fall back on, Steve was at a loss as to how to proceed, when the object of his affection was acting so damnably fickle.

“I just don’t get it, Rob. One minute he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and getting all up close and personal, and the next he’s looking like I killed his cat!”

“You have got to stop using other people’s trauma as analogies for your love life, babe.”

Steve waved a hand. “Mrs. Henderson’s not here.”

Robin threw up her hands. “And that makes it okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Fine, whatever.” Robin ruffled her hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just nervous!”

“Nervous! Why would he be nervous?”

“I don’t know, Steve. Why are you nervous?”

“Because I like him, and I don’t want to get hurt again!” Steve shouted, startling himself by the force with which the words came tumbling out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed. “I mean, it’s not just that, though, it’s…” Steve waved a hand into the open air between them. “I don’t know how to do this, you know? If this was a girl, I’d be thinking ‘oh, she’s playing hard to get—’”

“I can’t believe that’s a real thing people do,” Robin deadpanned.

“I mean, sometimes it really is just that they don’t like you—except that then they don’t keep trying to, like, hang out and joke with you—which Eddie does, he’s just hopelessly awkward about it.”

“Steve. Eddie is a hopelessly awkward person. It’s like a defining character trait.”

“Well he wasn’t with me.” Steve wiped a hand over his face and groaned. “I’m just nervous I misread the whole thing, you know? And if I did, and I ask him the wrong thing in the wrong way…what if he doesn’t want to see me again? Like, at all?”

Robin reached out and took his hand. “I hate that you have to know what that feels like,” she said, soft and careful. “But even in the wild event that Eddie is either a: entirely straight, or b: just not into you, I don’t think there’s any version of him that wouldn’t want to talk to you at all. So you should ask him out.”

“Okay, Rob,” Steve sighed. “Only on one condition, though.”

“Oh, no. Ohhhh, no you don’t—”

“You’ve gotta ask out Vickie,” Steve finished, holding out his hand with a smirk.

“Uggggh, fine. Deal.”

🎸🎸🎸

Steve was acting weird.

He’d been acting weird since getting discharged from the hospital—acting all shy and blushy one second, and then turning around and bringing him a new set of dice the next—but it’d really been cranked up to eleven for the past week.

And, look, Eddie knew he was new to the monsters-are-real crew. He knew that in order to make space for him they had to alter whatever their established dynamics were to fit him into them. But that didn’t account for the fact that all of a sudden Steve seemed to be completely unable to string two sentences together in front of him.

Maybe the two of them weren’t quite friends yet, but he missed the ease with which they’d been able to talk and be honest with each other only a couple of weeks ago. Hell, they’d had more chemistry together down in the Upside Down.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe Steve had finally clocked his doomsday-flirting for what it was, and was trying to establish boundaries. Eddie thought he’d pulled back since they'd all crawled out of hell—broken, but alive. As soon as the danger was clear there was no reason to play the bit anymore, right? It’s not like his flirtation attempts had ever been more than a way to liven up what had been an unmitigated shitstain of an experience. Sure, Harrington was pretty, and nice—and there was clearly more to him than met the eye. Eddie had really enjoyed getting to know him over the course of the past few weeks. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, if he was being honest. But it looked like the door was closing on that chance if he didn’t straighten things out.

“Hey, Harrington?”

“I thought I told you to call me Steve, Munson.”

Eddie smiled his ‘malicious compliance’ smile and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking onto his heels as he said. “Alright: Steeeve.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a little smile on his face that belied the general bitchiness of the rest of his demeanor. “What do you want, Eddie?”

Eddie spread his hands out in front of him like he was unfurling a map into the air between them. “Just figured I ought to clear the air.”

Steve frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You know—the whole reason you’ve been all weird around me lately? I figured it’d be best if I put all of my cards on the table.”

The frown dropped off of Steve’s face—replaced by an expression that Eddie couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t…bad? There was no apprehension to be found there. Steve looked almost expectant. Hopeful, maybe. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense—but Harrington didn’t make a whole lot of sense, so maybe Eddie was just misreading whatever he was seeing there.

“You know it was all just in good fun, right? That it didn’t mean anything?”

The frown returned. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in the Upside Down. You know I was just messing with you, right, man? Just a bit of good ol’ fashioned I’m-about-to-die flirting, you know? Nothing to get all worked up about.” Eddie kept a wide smile fixed in place, tried to really lean into the whole ‘non-threatening gay guy’ vibe—an uphill battle for him, specifically on one of his best days. He’d do jazz hands if it’d help sell the performance any better. But each word out of his mouth felt more like a lie than the one before.

A thin fissure appeared on Steve’s face—a crack that Eddie could almost see through, but not enough to be able to make any sense of what was on the other side. “Oh,” Steve said. His voice was shaking and Eddie couldn’t figure out why. It set off alarms in the part of his brain that was always primed to run at the first sign of danger. “So you’re…not gay?”

Eddie frowned in confusion. Of all the ways he thought Steve might react, that was not one of them. So Eddie forced a laugh, trying to disarm the question. “Oh no, I am a flaming homosexual. I just want to make sure you know that doesn’t mean I’m interested in you.”

The frown slid off of Steve’s face, and the fissure smoothed itself away like it’d never been there. The Steve standing before him was blank-faced as a statue, and it made Eddie want to puke. In all his worrying about Steve being uncomfortable with the idea that Eddie was hitting on him, specifically, he’d entirely forgotten to be worried about Steve being straight up homophobic. At least he wasn’t throwing punches. That was something, right? But Steve was looking at him with such a totalizing coldness behind his eyes that Eddie felt like he’d been left out to sea.

Steve gave a stiff nod. “Right, of course not,” he said, but the words came out wooden. He threw a thumb over one shoulder and twisted on his heel, back toward the beemer. “I’ll just…I gotta go.”

And then Harrington turned his back to him, and walked away.

Eddie didn’t have a crush on Steve.

So why did it hurt so much to watch him leave?

⛵⛵⛵

Robin sped down the stairs when she heard the banging at the door. There weren’t many people who would bother turning up on her doorstep unannounced. Even fewer who would make such a concerted effort to try to knock it down with the force of their pounding fists.

She swung the door open to find a tear-stained Steve standing before her.

“What happened?” She gasped out. Was it back? It couldn’t be back. El and Will had both sworn on pain of death that it was over. Maybe there was a new horror in town? Maybe Nancy had gone missing? Or Dustin? One of the other kids? Maybe Eddie?

Steve cut off the racing of her thoughts with a sobbing gasp. “Nothing, Robs.” Somehow, he looked worse than he had after the Russians. His head was hung low, and Robin could swear there was a shadow of phantom-bruising around his eyes. Like he’d been emotionally decked in the face. He took a step forward to come inside at the same moment that she took him by the wrist and yanked him across the threshold.

“What do you need?”

“Bathroom,” was all he said. And then Steve swapped his-wrist-in-hers for her-wrist-in-his and he pulled her further into her own house, toward the second-floor bathroom. When they reached it, Robin plopped down on the floor with her back against the tub while Steve took up his position with his back pressed up against the toilet bowl.

“What happened?” She whispered.

Steve was silent for a long stretch of time. He turned his head to the side, as though he was trying to look out of the small frosted window high up on the wall beside him. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Who? What? What are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve turned back to face her. “Eddie. He doesn’t want me.” Steve no longer sounded sad—he sounded vacant.

Robin’s nose scrunched up like she’d smelled something wrong, because that didn’t make sense. Robin might not be good at clocking other gay people—she wasn’t that good at reading people, period—but it’s not like Eddie’s flirting with Steve had been subtle. And even beyond that, he was always looking at Steve while he was asleep in the hospital bed, in a way that Robin thought meant something… There was just no way that Eddie didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Steve, right? So what had he said to make Steve so certain about that he didn’t? “How d’you know that?”

Steve laughed, half-hysterical, as he tipped his head back onto the lid of the toilet. “He said it didn’t mean anything—the flirting.” Steve wiped a hand clear across the length of his face—chin to forehead—before digging his fingers into his hair. He laughed again. Or—it was more a puff of air, than anything else. And there was definitely no humor behind it. Just a bitter kind of resignation. “And then—he said—he told me he was gay, but that he just wanted me to know that it doesn’t mean he’s interested in me.” Steve covered his face with both hands and let out a broken sob. “God, he and Nance should compare notes.”

Robin could feel the lines carving an angry space between her eyebrows, and a fire in her heart. How dare he? Maybe Robin had misread Eddie's whole vibe toward Steve—but how dare he just trample all over and discard his heart like that? It didn’t make sense—but it was happening, and she had to fix it, because no one was allowed to break her other half.

“Hey Stevie?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Yeah?”

“Where do you keep your little nail bat nowadays?”

🎸🎸🎸

Let it not be said that Eddie Munson didn’t know how to pull off a top-tier wallow. Ozzy’s pleading vocals were pouring out the speakers, while Eddie was laid star-fished out on the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers, and torturing himself with the memory of Steve Harrington biting into the tail of a hell-bat.

Is it me or is it you?

Things are so much different now

But nothing lasts forever

He really should have known that whatever kind of rapport he and Harrington had going was too good to be true. Once a rich dickhead jock, always a rich dickhead jock, right? He almost felt bad thinking that. But what else was he supposed to think? The second Steve Harrinton had found out he was gay he’d turned his back on him. That was pretty cut and dry.

A loud banging at the trailer door cut through his thoughts and over the sound of Ozzy singing looks and glances can't repair, talking could if we'd just dare.

Eddie had half a mind to just ignore it, but there were even odds that it was one of the UD Crew as it was a member of Hawkins’ resident angry mob. So Eddie peeled himself off the bed, leaving Ozzy blaring behind him, and yanked open the door. “What—?” He started, but came up short when he registered an absolutely livid Robin Buckley staring back at him.

Eddie hadn’t thought to take into consideration the idea that the person at the door might be a UD Crew member taking up the role of angry mob members. But Robin Buckley was standing on his stoop looking half-ready to commit a murder. The second the door was open, she shoved past him and into the trailer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?”

“Wh-what are you talking about, Buckley?” Covering his face with a piece of hair wasn’t enough—he wanted to melt into the floor. Had Steve really sent Robin to beat him up for being gay? That was some next level gymnastics in avoiding making physical contact with another man so that you don't seem gay.

Robin yanked at her hair and started pacing around the common area, glaring daggers into the floor (but thankfully not at him). “What am I talking about, he asks! You really are a medical grade idiot, aren’t you?”

“I—”

“No, shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Robin abruptly swung around on her heel to rush at him and jab a finger into his chest. “You broke Steve’s heart. And I don’t care if you were never into him—because I know that you can’t help who you like, or love—but you had no right to be so fucking cruel about it!”

A penny dropped.

“Robin. What are you talking about?”

Steve was heartbroken? That didn’t make any sense. He should have been relieved, he should have—

Robin laughed, hysterical, and threw her hands into the air. “I am talking about the fact that you told my best friend who has been pining over you for fucking weeks that all of the very obvious flirting you’ve been doing ‘didn’t mean anything,’ and that you just had to let him know that you weren’t interested in him specifically.” Robin paused to take a deep breath and kept barreling on. “And I get not wanting to lead someone on, Eddie—but even I know that was the least tactful way you could have gone about letting him down.”

Eddie shook his head, backing up toward the nearest wall like a cornered animal, because what Robin was saying didn’t make any sense. “I— I don’t—I mean, I do like him. I thought he didn’t like me! I thought he was straight!”

That brought Robin up short. Her shoulders remained set into a tense line, and her brow was still furrowed in distrust, but some of the unrelenting ire slipped away. “You didn’t—? Did he not—? What the fuck, Stevie!” The last part Robin muttered under her breath.

“Did he not, what, Buckley?”

“He didn’t ask you out?”

“No. What? Was he planning to?”

“Yes, numb nuts! Steve’s been trying to ask you out for weeks! I mean I guess mostly this past week—but that’s because before then he’d just been trying to beam the knowledge directly into your head through your thick skull.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie’s heart dropped into his stomach as the full ramifications of what he’d said caught up to him.

“Yeah, ‘oh, shit,’ Munson.”

“Buckley—” Eddie rushed over to clap both of his hands onto Robin’s shoulders. “Robin. I’ve gotta fix this.”

Robin rolled her eyes. They were still creased at the corners, but the rest of her seemed to have softened a bit. “Yeah, you do,” she said—all low and serious. “You’re gonna have to fucking grovel.”

Eddie nodded. “Can you help me?”

Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But let me make one thing fucking clear, Munson: I am doing this for Steve, not you, capiche? You put one toe out of line and I’ll go to the Wheeler house and grab one of Nancy’s guns.”

Eddie held up his hands in placating surrender. “Message received, loud and clear.”

Robin nodded, satisfied.

Eddie grinned back. “Let’s go get my man.”

there is now a part two!

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie week #steddieweek2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #(albeit a couple hours past mignight my time but that's just been my pattern thus far)#I don't want to put a steddie fic in the robin or st/bin tags but please know that robin is central to all things in steve's life #including this fic #for everyone who wanted a part two: it now exists #read writes

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lover-of-mine · 5 months

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Okay, I said I was gonna make a post about the way I believe Ryan is playing Eddie as in love with Buck because of the way he makes certain choices about Eddie regarding Buck that are similar to the ones he made about Eddie regarding Shannon, and this is it.

The whole thing started with the way Eddie looks away from things that make him experience intense feelings, but mostly when he doesn't like what he's feeling in a sense. He looks away from Shannon all of the time, when they're fighting, before she goes to the school, and in the firehouse, when she says she wants a divorce.

He's avoiding his parents eyes when they are trying to take Christopher, he looks away from Frank all the time.

He can't look Buck in the eye when Buck is trying to tell him that Chris got lost in the tsunami, he looks away from Ana because he knows he's hurting her (he does force himself to watch Shannon as she dies but I feel like that's a lot more about his loyalty/instinct to protect because that moment is fully about her because she's dying).

That's a consistent trait Ryan gave Eddie, he looks away, I think it even makes sense with the way Eddie runs away from stuff. And that makes moments when he's avoiding eye contact with Buck that much more interesting.

Because take 3a for example, buddie has quite a few emotional conversations, but during those, Eddie is mostly always staring Buck down or actively trying to force Buck to look at him (except when it comes to the fight club but the fight club is a lot more about shame in my opinion).

But when you look at the will reveal for instance, Eddie is consistently forcing himself to look back at Buck. His instinct seems to be to keep looking forward, and he needs to remember to look at Buck from time to time. (I'm not gonna put the whole scene here, but go rewatch and pay attention to where Eddie is looking)

And sure, the way Eddie simply refuses to look at anything relating to Buck's death can be seen as just "my best friend died" because any reasonable person would have an extreme reaction to watching their best friend die.

But, I don't see how that applies in the cemetery. Because Buck says "she sees me" and Eddie gives him that disbelief look and then just, stops looking. Honestly, there's no reason for that conversation not to involve them looking at each other, the point that's made that they are looking straight ahead is very interesting on its own but, like, when you add the fact that Eddie looks away from shit he doesn't want to feel/wants to run away from, that conversation has a whole other fun layer.

Even more with the way that Buck is lowkey looking like a kid tugging on your sleeve to get your attention and Eddie just refuses to look at him.

But my point really comes to the fact that these are all the same reaction.

And how do you explain the decision to make Eddie react the same way he does when Shannon is asking him to make a decision about them and then when she makes the decision herself by asking for a divorce when he thinks Buck has made a decision about them so he needs to back off?

That's his breakup face, plain and simple.

And it's not a reaction Eddie has to Shannon once, is something that is consistent with the way we see Eddie reacting to Shannon, and I personally think its a lot of the way it makes us never feel sure about the relationship, because Eddie is consistently presented to us when it comes to this as "I love her but I'm not sure about having her around". And these are his reactions to moments where Shannon makes him question where they stand. Moments where he's questioning if he actually understands where their relationship is.

You can't have Eddie question the nature of his relationship with Buck just because Buck has a crush and tell me that Eddie is experiencing purely platonic feelings.

And these are acting choices, and Ryan is very consistent about the way Eddie reacts to stuff, so the fact that he is wearing his "Shannon is making me feel thing" face says something.

I also said earlier today that Eddie is aware of his feelings because he stops saying emotional things while looking at Buck. Like, after the tsunami he is literally chasing Buck's gaze to force him to look at him, he doesn't look away from him at the grocery store or when they make up after the lawsuit or even after Buck fights with his parents, but starting with the will reveal, he looks away when saying things, and it makes me wonder if there's a level of that that is about making sure Buck can't read his reaction to what he's saying, because he doesn't want Buck to look too closely.

Anyway, that's all for today, as always, if you read this I love you <3

#911 #911 meta #buddie meta #eddiediazedit #buddie thoughts #im gonna go to bed now #i dont feel nearly as crazy about this one as i do other metas #is too many instances to be a coincidence yk?#ryan is on our side #and he put in enough work that the second they decide to make buddie canon that can just push Eddie into doing something #and make it make sense #anyway #Ryan is playing Eddie as in love with Buck and I will take no criticism #eddie diaz

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findafight · 2 years

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QPR stobin in their forties, married since, like, '87, finding out about qpr language. They see someone mention it or just stuble upon it on the internet and go oh!! That's us! That's what we have! :) Because they're still involved with lgbtq activism, and are like oh!! These young people have words for what we are isn't that amazing!

I think Robin would find out that sometimes people call their queerplatonic partner "zucchinis" absolutely hilarious and never refer to Steve as anything else. He's her zucchini. Her sweet yam. Her pumpkin pie. Steve giggles at it and says "because we're fruity!"

They don't get divorced to get married to their romantic partners because that's a hassle and also they don't want to. What would happen to the children. To the cats. To the fish the cats long to eat that they are expressly forbidden from eating because their mother and father are cruel and deserve jail for a thousand years. They are each other's PERSON, no romantic relationship will change that. This causes some stir when it's revealed Steve is Eddie's partner and also Steve has a wife. Eddie Munson, beloved queer metalhead/rocker is a homewrecker?? They try to explain! They do!

Steve is like 'okay well we were best friends and soulmates and very queer in the 80's it was just easier to get married especially seeing as I wanted my parents to have nothing to do with anything incase I died, so no brainer. We already lived together, it didn't really change anything except we were able to adopt!" "But don't you want to marry someone you actually love?" "I love Robin more than anything else besides our children??" "Not...what about Eddie?" "Yeah I love him he's my partner. But I don't want to marry him I'm already married to Robin." "But you aren't in love with her" "not romantically no. We're what the kids call 'zucchinis'" "I'm sorry what" "zucchinis! It's what some people call a queerplatonic partner! Like, a life partner that isn't romantic but is still the most important person! Rob thinks it's a very funny name and I gotta say, with the unconventional nature of this type of relationship I agree it fits."

Steve gets on twitter and is like "sorry to everyone who doesn't understand platonically spending your whole life with someone but I'm different" and then logs tf off and lets people freak the hell out in the replies.

And Eddie is like yes my partner is married. No he's not cheating. Yes we were together when he got married. No I'm not jealous. Yes I knew he was getting married I know you know this I was the best man. No he's not getting a divorce to marry me now same sex marriage is legal. Yes I'm fine with it. No it's not a problem. Yes I understand ya'll don't get it. No I don't actually care you don't get it. Yes Robin and Steve are the most important person in each other's lives. No I'm not hurt by that they were like that when I met them. Yes I love him. No I'm not worried they're actually in a secret heterosexual relationship that's ridiculous and stupid this interview is over.

#qpr stobin #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddie #give me unconventional relationship with rockerstar eddie!!! give me qpr stobin!!!!#i get that people want romantic ships to get married but i think that eddie wouldn't really want to get married #and also they were young (queer) adults in the 80's thats prime time for anitconformist queerness #also also if stobin were to get lavender married i doubt they'd get divorced bc they love each other too much #someone might being it up after same-sex marriage is legalized and they'd try to talk about it but get too upset because itd be too #much like a breakup. they cannot be separated they'll be too sad (not to mention how legally and financially their lives are entwined)#finda's rambles #finda writes stuff #this post probably makes no sense but whwtever im emo about qpr stobin #stobin #platonic with a capital p #steve and robin

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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For the one word prompt ♥️

Eddie, friendship, angst (i feel like being sad tn lol)

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

“So, that happened.” Eddie’s knuckles rapped against his knees, an obvious sign of nerves.

The two of you were in Nancy Wheeler’s basement, surrounded by junk food and atrocious party hats to celebrate Argyle’s birthday. Pizza had arrived a couple of minutes ago, and everyone had suddenly decided eating upstairs was more appealing. Everyone, except you.

Your stomach was still turning from the event that took place three days ago. That, coupled with the other person involved also being in attendance of your friend group’s get together made for some unsettling waves in your belly. Some alone time would have been beneficial.

Then Eddie came back down before the rest of them and you wanted to die.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, gaze focused on the television where Kim Carnes was so aesthetically crooning out about Bette Davis’ eyes, “I didn’t think they’d actually do it. Pretty sure they shaved a couple of years off their lifespan.”

Jonathan and Argyle, both cross faded, decided it would be a good idea to see who could handle eating a spoonful of salt better. Jonathan had coughed his out and stated his chest hurt.

“You know I wasn’t talking about that.”

You could feel the heavy weight of his gaze, face heating up while you picked at your nail polish.

When you didn’t say anything else, you heard him sigh and sink further into his chair.

“We slept together, Bits. That’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

Oh god. Why’d he have to say it outloud?

“I know, I was there.” You snapped, recalling how you’d gone over to his trailer to return a cassette of his—like you’d done a hundred damn times—with not a single fucking ulterior motive, and ended sweaty, naked and plastered to Eddie well into the night and early morning.

See, you had no trouble blowing a single moment of weakness over, that wouldn’t destroy your friendship. Make it a little awkward for a couple of days, but you’d be fine.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been a single time. The two of you had reached for each other throughout the night and he’d been inside you for a large majority of that time.

You’d internally freaked the fuck out when you woke up, but Eddie was a heavy sleeper so you’d been able to make a quiet escape. Once you realized how much trouble that could have caused, you’d gone back over to Eddie’s only to see Steve’s car parked out front, and you’d overheard the conversation between the two through his open bedroom window, with Eddie stating he’d been glad you left in the morning.

You didn’t stick around after that.

“Not for long,” came his catty reply and you finally glared at him to find him already scowling right back; eyebrows pinched, chocolate brown eyes hardened and irritation written clearly all over his face.

“What do you want me to say? We both already know it shouldn’t have happened, so why talk about it?”

Eddie felt a sharp pang in his chest, but he refused to allow you to see how vulnerable he really was, not if you’d be breaking his heart tonight.

He’d been ecstatic when it happened, when you kept wanting him. The group would constantly tease him about you, all of them sure you would inevitably get together but Eddie was a pessimist. You’d been friends for a while and yeah—sometimes, it felt like you wanted the hugs the two of you would exchange to last as long as he did, but he never caught you staring. It was always the other way around and his wishful thinking would only get him hurt.

Then it wasn’t wishful, not that night. All Eddie knew was bliss and the pessimist in him was happy to retire until he’d woken up and you were gone. He felt a mixture of emotions and called Steve over to vent; while he was somewhat relieved you’d gone home—simply because he was terrified he would have said something stupid by talking out of his ass with nerves and end up driving you away—Eddie was eager to see you again but anxious on what to say.

With the pep talk from Steve, and how the two of you were obviously meant to be if the universe had finally brought you together like this, Eddie was ready for the talk.

Except, it didn't happen because you’d been actively avoiding him. He knew what that meant. Pessimist, remember?

“Because if we don’t talk about it, I’m afraid you won’t talk to me again.”

Your stiff posture relaxed, guilt sinking into your bones because you knew he was right, you had been ready to avoid anything but small talk with him and you hated it because he was one of your friends. You would have been in the wrong because you couldn’t face the consequences of your actions.

But. But, but, but…you knew you would have caved.

Eventually.

“That’s not true, Eddie.”

“Isn’t it?”

God, you also hated how he seemingly knew the way this conversation would play out, expecting every single one of your responses.

“It’s not,” you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, vulnerability was not something you liked to share. You liked to be the upbeat, chipper, groovy friend. Even when you weren’t. It was easy that way, keeping everything to yourself, “This is so embarrassing to say, given what got us into this, but I can’t stay away from you. You’re my friend and our friendship means everything to me.”

Eddie was your friend, who didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him. And he didn’t have to.

“I don’t want to lose you, Bits.” Eddie’s resolve melted away, no longer was he the intimidating metal head who looked unapproachable. He was your friend again, “Especially, over this.”

Over you not wanting him; not wanting to kiss him, not wanting to intertwine your fingers, not wanting to sleep in his bed, not wanting to love him the way he loved you. It hurt.

It hurt like hell and he felt like he was bleeding out but if it meant you’d stay in his life, he’d bleed out for the rest of it.

“I don’t want to lose you, either, Eddie. Can we please be Bits and Eds again? Without the hormones ruining it?”

What you meant was, can you please forget about how nice I said it was to have you hold me?

You could see how glassy his eyes were and you were sure yours were no better.

He gave you a small smile, arms opening up for a hug, “Of course.”

What Eddie meant to say was, I should’ve dealt with the awkward morning after and been awake to keep you from leaving.

When you got up to curl into his lap for a hug–heart aching–the thought of how nice it was to be in his arms popped up again.

You shot that thought down and blew the smoke away from the barrel, your own heart bleeding in your hands.

#vivi's baby blurbs #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

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