#fisherman!eddie munson

[steviewashere]

Want to Go Home With You (Bring Me a Home) Chp. 2

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change With Future Chapters) CW: None, at least for now Tags: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Took Canon Out Back And Pulled an Old Yeller, Mer!Steve Harrington, Fisherman!Eddie Munson, Packless Steve Harrington (kind of?), Soft Steve Harrington, Confused Steve Harrington, Lonely Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Wants to be Loved, Mermaids with Animal Like Instincts, Future Propositioning, Lowkey Might Involve Some Omegaverse Aspects in the Future (Not Sorry)

Read the first part over here

Can also be read on AO3

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ In the morning, right at 5:30, he prepares a thermos full of soup, dresses himself in his embarrassingly tall boots, and carries himself to the dock.

To where Steve will find him.

And sure enough, poking his head out of the water, is Steve. Beaming at him, sharp teeth, smile lines and all. His tail flicks under the water, glowing and heavy. “Eddie,” he greets brightly. “Found you.”

“You gonna keep me, Steve?” Eddie teases, righting his boat to stop before Steve. He hefts the net over, watches as Steve willingly climbs in, and grabs for his thermos. “Keep me and hide me with all your stuff?”

“Can I keep?” Steve asks, but it’s all too genuine.

Eddie, in turn, can’t find it in himself to continue to joke and tease. Blushing instead of answering as he pours some of the soup into the thermos’s lid. Hands it off and grins at how Steve sniffs. With his entire nose, scrunching the tip of it, furrowing at the scent. The slight tilt to his head as he realizes there’s warmth in his hands.

“Soup,” Eddie says, “fish soup. Brought you some of the warmth from my home.”

“Soup,” Steve echoes. “Made of love?”

He didn’t expect that question as he sipped at his own soup, choking on the liquid and small chunks of fish. His palm hits roughly at his chest to dislodge the food in his throat. And with a strained voice, “Fish, Stevie. But, sure, it’s made of love, too. My uncle helped me make it.”

Steve brings it up to his mouth. Latches on. Teeth grating against the metal lip, to which Eddie minutely grimaces at. And he chugs it back without chewing. Hefts it up to Eddie’s line of sight, gripping harshly to the still warm lid. Pressing it into Eddie’s bubble of space. And asks, “More? More love soup?”

Without answering, Eddie pours more into Steve’s cup. Though, before Steve has the chance to drink more back, he states, “Slow. You eat it slowly so you can taste it.”

A tiny drink, so small it’s almost nothing. Eddie is absolutely enamored. “Like that?” Steve asks, checking.

Eddie laughs low from his belly, which in turn makes Steve gaze at him—softly, yet passionately. “You can eat more, but don’t do it all at once. If you eat it too fast, you can make yourself sick. At least, I’m assuming. I don’t know how merfolk stomachs work.”

Steve brings the soup back to his lips, another small sip, and then cradles it close to his chest. He rests his elbows on the edge of Eddie’s boat. And stares unblinking at Eddie’s face. His lips stretch into another smile, sharp teeth glinting in the fresh sunrise. “You are the first human I have seen,” he states, “and I have met.”

“First, huh? You’re a lot more trusting than I’d expect. I can’t represent all of humanity, but I’m assuming the impression I’ve left is good?”

“Eh-die,” Steve says, choppy, testing the word once more. “You are like a pearl. A good thing.” He slurps noisily at his soup again, chewing open-mouthed, and swallowing with too much force. Eddie finds him so incredibly endearing. “We collect pearls. They are shiny and pretty. You are pretty, Eddie.”

He sits close to the edge of his boat and leans into Steve’s space, elbows on his thighs. Up this close, Eddie can map every mole and freckle, how the saltwater makes his eyelashes stick together, the slight way the light hits his magnificent tail. “Well, you’re a charmer, aren’t you?” Eddie questions, though it’s more to himself, as Steve looks on with mild confusion. But he beams again when Eddie adds, “You’re pretty, too. I quite like your tail, Stevie.”

A short trill. It makes Steve’s throat vibrate, Eddie can see how his muscles work to make the noise. “It is not a good color, but thank you.” He sips at the stew again as if Eddie’s world isn’t crumbling.

“Not good? Steve, these colors are gorgeous. Maybe I’m a bit biased, considering I don’t have a tail, but I can’t stop looking at it,” Eddie emphatically says. “I can hardly believe you’re real, yet here you are, being beautiful in ways I’ve literally never seen.”

Steve hums and wriggles in the net. Swaying back and forth. “Feel funny. Not cold with you, Eddie. You feel?” He snatches up one of Eddie’s hands and slams it onto his chest. His heart beats rapidly under Eddie’s hand and he’s wonderfully warm. “New,” he murmurs, awed.

“I can feel it, Steve. You must like it when I compliment you, huh? When I tell you nice things?” Eddie runs his thumb over Steve’s collarbone, relishing in his wiggling again. “You’re cute, Steve. Glad that you found me again.”

“Now I can keep? I find and I keep Eddie?” He’s looking on with such sincere earnest, a part of Eddie crumbles. There’s no way that he can safely transport Steve to his home, onto the land. Not only that, but Eddie can’t exactly live in the ocean.

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, heartbroken already as Steve deflates in front of him. “I can’t come with you and you can’t come with me. I’m a human, sweetheart. I’ve got lungs. I won’t be able to breathe under the water forever. And you’ll dry out if you stay on the beach with me. I’m sorry,” he explains solemnly. He wishes that there was a sufficient way for Steve to truly understand him. To get through that whatever bond they’re forming has to remain frozen here, in this little bubble, where Eddie indulges the quiet early morning and the calmest waves. But he can’t figure out a way to let him down permanently.

Almost doesn’t want to.

At his words, though, Steve finally falls silent. Eyes down towards the lid of the thermos. Gripping harshly to the cup, still. However, instead of a look of great sadness and despair, it’s rather one of thought and hope. Thinking of something, Eddie’s unaware of what, though. He busies himself with capping the thermos, setting it to the side, and grabbing for his fishing pole. He had to give an excuse to his uncle about needing the boat, may as well bring home the evidence.

Eddie fashions the rod with his best bobber and baits the hook with a worm—extra security. He shuffles away from where Steve is still resting in his net. And tosses the line out just a handful of feet in front of him. Sits back onto the nearest bench of the boat and waits with rod in hand.

While the air is silent around him and his eyes are out at the water, the net rustles. In his peripheral, he notices Steve chug the rest of his stew, aim the lid over his shoulder, and chuck it back down to the boat’s floor. He turns his head to face Steve. “Whatcha doing?” Eddie asks.

“Wait here,” Steve states, “be back with Steve’s stuffs.” And then he angles over the side of the net, grips to the rope-like edge, and somersaults himself into the water, disappearing with a heavy and loud splash. The water ripples steadily where he entered. Eddie’s lost in the motion of the waves, giving no care for his heaving rod. He steps towards the net again and watches with wide eyes.

Waiting, like Steve told him. Even though he could take his chance and bail. Turn away from this odd merman that wants to know him. Get back to land and map out a new fishing spot at a different dock. Yet, here he stands. Leaning over the edge of his uncle’s sailboat. Holding his breath for a mer that he didn’t think could be real until yesterday morning.

Only a few minutes later does the surface break. Steve’s wavy hair emerging first. Then his eyes and nose and pouting lips. His tail moves under him, flicking to his right then left, mimicking the movement of sharks most likely. But he propels forward to the net again. “Help?” He requests, though his voice croaks. “Want help, see Eddie.”

He lowers the net hastily and lets Steve clamber back inside. When he raises it again, they’re at eye level with each other. Noses almost touching. Steve settles back inside the net and rests his arms on the edge of the boat, crossed over one another. Eddie gives him space, but not before noticing that one of Steve’s hands are fisted, clearly holding something.

Steve snatches Eddie’s left hand and unfurls it. He splays his closed hand over Eddie’s, fills his palm, and then curls his fingers around the item. “My stuff,” Steve mutters, “not warm, but I love. You will love?” And when Eddie peers over, Steve’s eyes are impossibly large. His eyelashes are dew-dropped and there’s a fresh glisten over his irises. They’re inquisitive and cautious, but warm unlike his out-of-water hands.

Eddie finally looks at what Steve brought him.

In the well of his palm is a pearl. Small, slightly oblong, and off white in color. It shifts like the iridescent glimmer to Steve’s tail. Off white to a silver. There’s a small divot to the top of the pearl where Eddie’s thumb can perfectly rest. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen—outside of Steve himself.

He can’t form words, but his jaw drops ajar. Can’t rip his eyes away from it either.

“Special to us,” Steve murmurs in Eddie’s silence, “gift to other mer.” When Eddie finally glances back, Steve’s cheeks have flushed crimson. There’s a soft smile on his face and the slight appearance of one his teeth, biting into his lower lip—where it must be crooked against the rest of them. “You are nice,” he whispers, “and warm.”

“I—“ Eddie stutters. “I don’t know if I can accept this, Steve. These are…Pearls are rare and expensive to humans.”

“Ex—pen—sive?” Steve questions. His head tilts slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “Silly word, Eddie. Take pearl—gift from me for love soup.”

“Are you sure, Steve? I thought this was something special to you merfolk?”

Steve shrugs. Looks over Eddie’s shoulder, embarrassment unsubtle on his face. “I have no mer. No love. No warm,” he admits, ashamed. “You are my first friend, Eddie.” He closes his eyes just as a tear works its way down his cheek—the single track a same iridescent as the pearl and his tail. Shudders through a soft, rippling, broken trill. “I give a pearl to you. Maybe you will stay? Be my friend?”

Eddie snakes out a tentative hand. Cups Steve’s tear stained cheek and runs his thumb under his eye. Steve leans into the palm and over the boat, more into Eddie’s space. “Of course, Steve,” he swears, “of course I’ll be your friend.” A warm chuff puffs over Eddie’s palm and he smiles at Steve’s relaxed face. “I accept your gift. I’ll take it back home with me later and keep it safe and hidden. It’ll be our secret, Stevie.”

“Secret,” Steve echoes.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “Nobody else will know, just the two of us.” He works his other fingers into Steve’s hairline and scratches at his scalp. Surprised when Steve does something similar to a cat’s purr. Eddie’s arm vibrates with the sweet sound. “But I’ll see you as often as I can. And I can bring you more of my home to put into yours. I’ll be like…Like an honorary merman.”

Sweetly, Steve giggles. Nuzzling more into Eddie’s palm. “One day,” he murmurs, “warm home will be ours.”

And though Eddie believes that to be completely impossible, he lets himself think of a day where they’re something like roommates. Maybe even something more. Of sharing stories over hot dinners—Steve’s time in the ocean and Eddie’s time on the ocean. Their families and histories. Imagines holding each other’s faces just to gaze into one another’s eyes. As a sense of security, but warmth that seems to exude between them now.

“I’d like that,” Eddie states quietly. “Maybe one day you’ll feel the sand of my home.”

Maybe almost sounds like definitely.

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ *cough cough* Steve thinks Eddie's propositioning him. *cough cough* Pearls are special in a very certain way to merfolk.

Taglist: @scoops-aboy86 @spectrum-spectre

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #mer!steve harrington #fisherman!eddie munson #hurt/comfort #fluff

[little-annie]

Steddie Mermay anyone?

***

The night sky's a hazy sort of blue-black, the stars swimming throughout the wispy clouds as fish do through the coral below the calm waters. From where he sits, wood solid below him and murky depths beneath that, Steve sees not much more than the two blending together; night sky meeting ocean waters in a never ending blur of uncertainty, intrigue and mystery. 

Whispers between lips and the ears of strangers and kin, stories have been told seemingly for centuries. Forwhat lurks beneath the clouded waters is what seals the fates of many men. Only the scarred and hardly lucky left to tell their tales. 

It'd been an elder fisherman who'd told Steve of an evening from his past. Dark eyes, porcelain skin and water wet curls accompanied by the deadly hymns of a creature that'd pierced his skin with nails black as the night sky and dragged him to what he assumed to be his death.

The docks were busy as they'd sat side by side, the screeches of gulls in the distance and the nattering of the market to their rear, old Gus had muttered with whiskey stained breath as he continued.

“ ‘twas a scary thing boy, ain't no other thought in my mind than I'd die right there. I ain't even remember much of it. Seems to ‘ave faded with time I think. Jus’ when I saw that thing's face and suddenly I was under water, bleeding from my arm and pulled along by those damn claws.”

Gus had paused for a moment then, scratching at the greying scruff of his chin as if in thought, ageing clouding eyes squinting into the midday sun, he grumbled, “Ain't even remember how I got back to town for Christ's sake. Woke to the gulls screaming something awful right here on this bench, soaked from ass to teeth, head throbbin’ and m’ arm wrapped in a mess of seaweed.”

At the time Steve had simply hummed, hat hanging low on his head shielding his eyes and mole dotted cheeks from the sun. He'd stop to take a nap in the warmth before he set out for a noon-hour fish. Truthfully he hadn't asked Gus a damn thing, the old bastard just plopped down next to him with a grunt and sorta just started rambling. 

But that was days, weeks ago now and with the nerve to find something of substance, to track down the creature he'd heard so much about, Steve was out on the waters for what felt like the 100th night in a row.

He's yet to have seen anything of grandeur, only ever the whispers of hymns in the breeze and the ripple of water when scale skinned bodies have dove from his devoted gaze. 

Though that's not to say such creatures' eyes haven't fallen upon him. 

Beyond the stillness of death tainted waters, nestled in the jaggedness of stone and rock nearest the shores, floats with a sense of ease a creature whose eyes reflect the starry onyx of the night skies and the silent but waiting silhouette of a man who it hungers for.

This being knowing with a sense of certainty that someday soon the breaking of golden flesh would be felt beneath its teeth and the sweetness of the man's very life's force on its tongue.

***

Because at 37 weeks pregnant, I don't know when I'll ever have the time or energy to finish this 💁🏻‍♀️

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steddie fandom #eddie munson #steddie mermay #mermay #steve harrington is a fisherman #eddie munson is a mermaid #siren

[rainylana]

Taste of an image: fishin’

eddie munson x female reader

You were trying so hard to stay awake at the breakfast table. After finally talking Wayne and Eddie to talk you fishing, they caved. You weren’t exactly the fisherman type, so they were skeptical.

They woke you up at the ass crack of damn dawn. You had tried to be a good sport, offered a thumbs up and a smile. Now, at the diner, approximately 6:15 a.m, you were barely awake.

There voices were foggy, clouded. Your eyes dropped and your head lulled to the side, the smell of bacon and eggs filling your nostrils.

“I don’t think she’s gon’ make it, Ed.” Wayne shook his head, pointing at you beside Eddie.

His eyes went wide, catching you as you slipped into his arms, falling asleep. “Yeah, I guess not.”

#taste of an image #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader

[bettyfrommars]

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

Blurb 1

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp.  He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water.  All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea.  He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again.  The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss.  He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation.  How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.  

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again.  He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.  

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade.  Mostly because he loathed humans.  He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar. 

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost.  He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence.  Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet.  A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast.  The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass.  You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar.  He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy.  Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.  

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl 

What a good wife you would be 

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach.  Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot.  There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun.  A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin.  Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist. 

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away.  Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart.  Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.  

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.  

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet.  You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it.  A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone.  The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.  

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape.  You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs.  You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.  

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking.  “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth.  He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened.  The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.  

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down.  He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear.  The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs.  You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate.  He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.  

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell.  You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs.  His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not.  It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence.  His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter. 

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.  

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?”  You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.  

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination. 

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper.  You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.  

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship.  Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.  

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.  

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled.  You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.  

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.  

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts.  “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering.  He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke.  When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.  

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding.  His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.  

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist.   A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.  

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl.  You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again.  A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it.  A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh.  Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back.  You thought you heard something crack.  

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him.  After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him.  Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper.  “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.  

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so.  “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat.  “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone.  “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him.  “It looks like Elvis.  Call The Inquirer.” 

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff.  He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right.  “The migration of the Sirens.  Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon.  Humanoids.  Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers.  “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise.  I told you all about it.  I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted.  “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders.  "I know that Sirens exist, Jim.  There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.” 

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #darkSiren!Eddie #merman!Eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #monster fucking #monsterfucker #monster smut #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Mermaid au part two

Not sure how many more parts, I'm doing this as I have time, but I'm falling in love with this world.

Eddie was astounded at how different the cavern seemed from  the outside world.  He’d spent many moons wanting to escape the village of Hawkinsvine and now here he was all but stranded on this island, a fierce yet beautiful tribe of creatures watching his every move. He was surprised at how quickly the leader seemed to agree to let him stay until whenever the blood moon was, and what was this about a prophecy they were speaking of? His musings were interrupted when Stefania’s head  popped up in the pool near the entrance of the cavern. Once again he was blown away by her ethereal beauty, her deep caramel eyes shone in the moonlight and her moles  seemed to grow almost a gold color beneath its light. She swam closer to where he sat, her eyes tentative as she watched him.

“Eddie Munson,  you stare into the sky as though the lights hold your answers. Tell me, what do  you find within their  glow?” Her voice carried across the water as though it was a melody in the night air, and he felt the tension in his chest lessen when he turned to look at her fully.

“I don't know what brought me here to you, or these people but  I feel as  though this is where home should have always been. If we are to spend the next moons together until the ritual you spoke of  takes place I would like you to call me Eddie. On the surface where I was from it is what people who you are  close to or cared for would call each other, by their first names only. Here my last name means naught, and as I plan to never return there again I should lay the last bit of that life at the shore and begin anew.” His fingers played over the water's edge, though he did not notice the slight  glow from its waves near his fingertips. 

“Eddie.” The girl tried his  name for a moment like tasting it for the first time, “And you shall call me Ania. Stefania is what the court calls me as it’s  princess.” Eddie coughed his head whipping back  in her direction, eyes wide, “No need for that, this ritual is to see if you are the lost child we've been searching for. Our elder Wayne lost his offspring many years ago to a fisherman. We never did find him, but we know he is alive. His heart stone is still within the pools of family ties, it still glows like the rising  moon. My soul tells me that he may be you, and if it is such there is a life here for  you always as more  than just our guardian.” She sighed and looked  up to the moon,”To be honest with you  Eddie, I do so hope it to be true. I am to choose a husband soon, and maybe…” she trailed off before glancing at him, that shy smile on her lips  again before diving back beneath the waters.

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre

Part one:

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stefania Harrington #mermaid au #steve x eddie #fanfiction #my writing #my work #lia writes

[hitlikehammers]

PART ONE: Fail-Pirate!Eddie/Castaway!Steve (Pirate AU)

🌊Under the Water (Our Hearts Will Dream Again)🌊

Chapter One: Man Overboard

You’ve gotta understand: the truth about Eddie?

He’s shit as a pirate. Like: an absolute disgrace. Of all the bad names associated with the trade, if trade is what it can be called?

He might just give it the worst.

So, y’know. That’s nice.

Like, he knows his knots, he is excellent with his hands thank you kindly, and he ties those motherfuckers like a pro, too! So what if he just sometimes confuses his hitch for his stopper, they’re both knots, they both do the job of knotting.

(Mostly. They only lost a boat the one time.)

(As in lost-lost, not the ones that were retrieved in time but landed Eddie on scut anyway.)

Which doesn’t touch on his absolutely abysmal record at the looting end of things. He doesn’t mind taking from the well-off, but he does mind adding it to the ship’s take every time they make land; he maybe lies about how bad he is at the stealing, the all-important plundering of the job, because he ends up finding the people outside the center of town at every port, the ones who line the edges and he drops what he takes with the ones who need it there, where they can’t escape on the water, can’t live in motion on the whims of the waves and find their needs in the flux of a life unanchored.

So he’s not the worst thief, for the right victim. But his spoils never make it back to the ship so: it probably makes him pretty shit at the job to hand, in the end, either way. Add a mark to the tally.

And then, gods: don’t get him started on the taking of…other things. Who aren’t things, they’re fucking people and they deserve respect not…what the other people sailing under his colors seem to believe them useful for instead.

Eddie’s been sick over the edge of the stern, hidden by shadow even if it’s unnecessary because fuck, the rest of the crew is full-occupied with their plundering, and that’s the reason he spews over in the sea, the waves always feeling a little extra angry for his pollution of their waters and that’s fitting. It’s fitting that he’s defiling something sacred with the weakness of his stomach—but not his soul, not his morals or his sense of humanity, fuck’s sake, so: at least there’s that.

He guesses.

Admittedly, though: Eddie doesn’t care so much that he’s a shitty fucking pirate. It’s not piracy that led him here, that charted this course for his life.

It’s the Ocean.

Which, sure, that may strike either cliche or obvious, too soft and poetic or else just downright pointless to underscore because he made a conscious choice to live at Sea, especially given the laundry list of reasons he’s absolutely abysmal at the life-on-the-water thing. But it is the truth. The best and biggest truth he’s ever known, rooted deep enough to fuel his steps and guide his path to here, right here, being exceptionally bad at luring fucking fish in a tiny little dinghy that the crew who hates him decided was perfectly fitting for the anticipated catch and okay, fine, if you were going to base expectations off of prior performance then maybe, and also, also maybe being here, ending up precisely right here—laughingstock of his profession, maligned by his crew, foisted upon barely-a-boat to catch barely-a-fish because y’know what, he’d have become a goddamn fisherman in the fucking first place if he was any good at that—but maybe right here, like this would look like failure to anyone else, to everyoneelse but, y’see—

Eddie Munson was a boy, once.

And he remembers, crystal clear, from the touch of his mother’s hand on his shoulder to the smooth slide of the menacing-but-magical looking shell, with its pointy end for tiny hands to grasp and hold to, and it’s big spiky cone of a head to hold to his own, up against his ear as his mother guided his elbow up and whispered just listen, you’ll hear the ocean tell you its secrets—and he loved the ocean, loved the feeling of the soft foam of the tide on the hidden sands far from the harbor, loved the little creatures that scuttled in and out of the water when the waves crept up, loved the hint of a big fin, maybe real or maybe just imagined something that big, that dangerous, that beautiful breaching the horizon: Eddie wanted to know all the ocean’s secrets.

And when he’d held the shell of his ear, he’d heard them: whispered close and roared fierce alike and he’d felt weightless, giddy; just just floating.

Magic, like the shell in his hands.

And it didn’t matter when his father found him years later, stumbling drunk from the tavern where he spent money they couldn’t afford, finding Eddie with the conch pressed tight to his ear, almost too small now as he’d grown but still desperate for the secrets, the sound of the waves that seemed to reach out and know when they needed to break louder, faster to drown our the shouting, to wash over the way his father had hauled him up and thrown the shell to break a window and sneered your idiot secrets, boy, there’s no ocean in that fucking shell, s’the echo of your own coward heart that you hide in, there, stupid fucking—

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter, not because Eddie got knocked to the floor much like his shell, after; not because it made a kind of sense, because if the secrets of the ocean were the mirror of his heartbeat then of course they were faster and louder when his father came home drunk, sometimes he chest got sore over how his heart raced on those nights; and not because when he finally gets his feet back under him, when his father’s wood-sawing snores signal the coast is clear and he can creep out and search in the dark for his shell and find it, cracked from the spin of the handle-like bit so he just has to cradle the wide bell careful in his palm and ignore the slice of the spires into his skin, ignore it for the sake of finding, finding—

The waves. The secrets. His own heartbeat like the thunder in a storm and it doesn’t matter because if that sound is his own heart, then, then it’s like the ocean’s secrets are in his own chest, a little.

Like if the ocean had a heartbeat, there’s something of it pressed inside his own.

And for all that his father tried to whip that wonder away from him, straight out of his hands? That reality is somehow more magical. And Eddie’s been drawn to the pulsebeat of the sea—devoted, even, almost like a lovesick longing—ever since, so.

Failing at pirating, including the fishing part? Isn’t a failure.

Because he’s on the Sea. And that’s all he’s ever really wanted.

It’d help his pride if he got like, one fucking fish, though. Even a tiny one. Though they’d probably mock him worse for a minnow than for nothing so: small mercies, maybe, that he’s pulling up untouched bait.

Still he sighs, and takes a moment, rakes his gaze over the setting sun on the water—they’re far enough out now that there’s no sight of land, just the ripples nearby that smooth into pure water stretching aft and aft further out and Eddie doesn’t have a shell but if he presses his hand to his chest and over his ear at once it’s almost, almost—

He both hears and feels his pulse jump, like the secret is a warning, and he believesthat’s it’s both because it’s the only explanation for the way he turns, at that precise moment that the water moves uncannily agitated, and lifts up something weighty, a heavy shadow, and—

“Man overboard!” Eddie’s voice cracks as his hands reach for the oars and he rows before he thinks because the Ocean told him to look—and maybe it’s childish, and foolhardy, and a silly winsome fantasy he should have left behind ashore long again but…

He can’t tell if the man—because it’s a man, indeed, he can tell now that the water has calmed, and how else to explain its sudden surge to command Eddie’s attention, to call him in close and then ease the way to the waterlogged body—but Eddie can’t tell if the body moves at all save at the water’s own whim, can’t see yet if the flesh is too pale or worse, too blue, and—

“Man overboard!” he cries out with feeling, now; he’s far from the ship but not so much that no one will hear screaming if not yet discern the words and he just needs them to know, needs them to be ready, especially if it’s somehow one of their own and he just repeats it, too of his lungs, shrieks it to the sky as he reaches the man’s form, facedown in the water, and that alone seizes in Eddie’s chest—why tell him a secret if it’s only a heartbreaking one, yet he cannot, will not be picky, he will never reject the confidences of the Ocean no matter how it chooses to disclose its mysteries, even its tragedies; he curses his crewmates for the pitiful size of his little vessel, a joke upon his lacking hauls but now he has need for size and sturdiness as he reaches for the body—broad and leant further mass by the water itself and far more precious than a hundred fish for feeding and for trading, this is a life and he strains to balance the boat and heave the man aboard so not to capsize them both and leave the circumstances worse for his help—

“Man,” he manages to screech before he tumbles back, but with the man in his arms to drag along into the dinghy and he knocks his own breath a little for the fall but the man’s here, and they’re upright, and Eddie scrambles on his knees toward his new charge and he—

Should not have wasted time trying to steady his lungs, really, because this man, on his boat, dragged from the waters, he, he is—

He’s absolutely breathtaking.

Eddie gapes at him, at the play of the sunset on his soaked hair, his skin—pale, but not blue, not dead yet—he is stunning even like this, what unimaginable beauty must be possess when he’s not—

Oh hells, yes, right; he—

Eddie probably needs to fucking check if the breathtaking man is breathing, before he contributes to losing something at sea far more precious than an improperly-knotted boat.

>>>CHAPTER TWO

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme

divider credits here & here & here

🌊ao3 link here

#steddie #steddie fic #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #pining #flirting #HEAVY on the pining and flirting #meet cute #(on the OCEAN) #casanova-esque!steve #fail!pirate eddie #secrets secrets (are so fun) #pirate au #seafaring au #oceanic mythology #drama and sacrifice! #happy endings only #strbb #stranger things #hammers writes #hitlikehammers v words

[fastlikealambo]

the mermaid & the lighthouse. ||older!eddie x black mermaid! reader

summary: widowed father eddie munson is an experienced fisherman and down on his luck operator of one of the last barely functional lighthouses in america.

hawkins, a crumbling fishing village off the coast of maine, is slowly but surely being sold off and an oil spill by the carver oil company the previous year has all but sealed hawkins' fate to be purged of the locals and turned into a resort.

it's in the cards for eddie to sell his boat, pack up his daughter, and give into jason carver's cash offer to turn the lighthouse into a vacation home.

that all changes when a mysterious woman washes up on the rocks, an unearthly being that will change his fate and the fate of his home forever.

Trigger warnings for this chapter: Drowning, Body Horror, Mental Health Discussions, CPR

CHAPTER ONE.

'But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.'

-Hans Christian Andersen

This is a tale of mermaids, love, and what it means to be human.

But to begin,we must have an ending.

“Chrissy? Wynie? Christina and Eowyn Munson!" 

Eddie made his way through the crowded emergency room, wading through police officers, people wrapped in blankets with medical staff hovering around them and others with the same wild look in their eyes as Eddie, searching for someone in the crowd. The corridors seemed to be endless as Eddie broke out into a run past the nurses’ station towards the room but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Sir, you can’t go back there.” The security guard said but Eddie shook them off, spotting a lone nurse.

"Please, I'm looking for my wife and daughter, they were on the ferry?"

"I'm sorry sir, we're swamped, someone should be around to talk to you shortly." The nurse said, barely looking up from her chart and it took everything within him to not scream.  It wasn’t her fault, but he just needed to know what was going on. 

"Eddie."

Eddie turned around to see Robin standing there and he immediately ran to his friend, unbelievably happy to see someone, anyone he knew who might possibly have answers, or at the very least prevent him from spinning his wheels.

"Thank fuck, I can't find Chrissy or Wyn anywhere and nobody knows anything, neither of them are picking up their phones, I'm going out of my mind Robin!" He exclaimed, running his hand through his curly hair, the few gray streaks in it shining in the fluorescent lightning. He had dyed them to match the rest of his head in what he thought was secret but Chrissy liked the grays.

 Robin said nothing, took his hands in her own and it was then that he saw the tears in her eyes, the blood on her rainbow scrubs and his heart stopped in his chest.

No.

"Robin?"

"Eddie, Chrissy and Wynie were in the water for a very long time. By the time they were brought in, neither of them were breathing on their own."

No. 

"Spare me the bullshit Robin, where the fuck is my family?" He yelled, no actual anger in his voice, just pure desperation. A buzzing noise that started when Wayne radioed him intensified in pitch and it felt like he was underwater.

"We were able to stabilize Wyn, but we had to put a tube down her throat to help her breathe, she's in the ICU, Eddie."

 The image that his mind conjured of his little girl in a hospital bed made him want to curl up on the floor but he regained his composure to ask the question he didn’t want to know the answer to.

"And Chrissy?"

"We did everything we could, I'm so sorry Eddie."

Eddie felt his knees give out beneath him, meeting the hospital floor hard, his sobs and screams echoing throughout the hallway as Robin rocked her oldest friend in her arms, no longer able to stifle her own tears.

While his daughter fought to take a breath and his wife took her last, Eddie had been fucking fishing, tossing back a few beers, shooting the shit.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

And then an interlude of two years.

Outside of The Hawkins Middle School principal’s office, Eddie was greeted by the sight of his twelve year old daughter looking very pleased with herself despite the bruise on her face and cut on her lip, the smirk that confirmed to the world that this was Eddie Munson’s kid fading as soon as she saw her father.

“Wyn, what the fuck happened? Who did this to you?” Eddie knelt down by his daughter, taking her chin in hand to inspect her face, rage and frustration building within him but Wynie sighed and shook him off, her face shifting to the same blank expression that had graced her features since he brought her home from the hospital two years prior.

“Mr. Munson, so good of you to join us.” Principal Coleman’s head popped out of the office,  ushering him to come in. A sheepish Eddie followed, sinking into a seat across from the principal, half expecting Wayne to be sitting next to him like he was the one getting detention.

“Mr. Munson, we understand that things have been extremely hard for you both these past two years and we’ve done the best we can to support Eowyn here at school but I’m afraid violence can’t be tolerated.” 

“None of what you’re saying explains why my kid’s face is fucked up, Coleman.”  Eddie said roughly, running a hand through his beard. “But it’s the thought that counts.”

“Mr. Munson, your daughter headbutted another student during lunch, breaking her nose. The student’s mother is threatening to press charges.”

“And did you find out why? Ask any of the other students if-

“Your daughter confessed actually, rather proudly if I might ask but then again, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m sorry Mr. Munson, but we’ve been lenient with your situation for far too long.” Eddie stood to his feet at that.

“Situation? Her mother died! She almost died! That’s not something a juice box and a pep talk over the summer fixes!”

“Sit down Mr. Munson, I know you don’t believe it but we are on the same side. That child’s parents are out for blood but I’ve managed to keep them at bay by giving Eowyn two weeks of in school suspension, a written apology, and she will be seeing Ms. Kelley, our guidance counselor and Dr. Owens, our school psychiatrist.”

Eddie slowly sat back down, exhaustion taking away any remaining fight he had. He had a plan to keep them both above water after all that had happened, to keep her safe and try to get through each day.

He was failing spectacularly.

“ Wait, she already sees Dr. Owens, twice a week.” Eddie said, confused looking out at his daughter in the hallway who overheard everything and now hung her head in actual sadness.

“Apparently for the last month, she’s been skipping their sessions.”

Jesus H. Christ.

“So do you want to tell me what really happened?” Eddie said,waiting until Wynie was buckled into the car.

Silence.

“Wyn, we can’t go on like this, if you don’t want to talk to me, you need to talk to Owens. No more skipping sessions, sweetheart. And you have to apologize to that kid.”

“He threw Abby Henderson’s lunch in the trash. He’s been doing it all week, she won’t say anything so I did something about it.”  Wynie said softly. Eddie pulled over and turned towards his daughter who looked more and more like Chrissy with each day that passed.

“I’m supposed to say you shouldn’t have done that, that you should have told a teacher, that violence is never the answer, but honestly fuck that. You did something to help your friend and that’s important, Wyn.”

“So I’m not grounded?” Eowyn asked, the first time he had heard her voice in a few days, startling him.

“Oh you’re so grounded but not for the headbutting which is very metal by the way, but for the lying Eowyn. I’m worried about you honey,  there’s nothing you can’t tell me, you know that right?” Eddie asked, reaching for Wyn who moved away.

“I’ve got to inspect the lighthouse tonight, why don’t you come with me? We can have hot cocoa, it will be like old times.” Eddie offered, coughing awkwardly. 

Wynie shrugged, the guarded look back in place.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie said, a little bit of hope in his voice as he started the car again.

Somewhere close, a storm beckoned and the sea betrayed you.

You had been watching the humans above, their ways had called to you more often than not these days, looking for him on the shoreline but he was no longer there. The human child smelled of him but a long time had passed since the sea was aflame and the scent was gone from the water.

You would wait one more day for him before leaving for colder waters and as the day became night, he was not there.

Eddie was gone.

Sadly, you left the rocks to dive under the stormy water and that’s when it happened.

Your tail, your beautiful luminous tail, began to twist uncontrollably beneath you, bloody scales shedding from you one after the other.

Then, agony.

So much pain, your bones shifting and breaking, you couldn’t breathe.

Poseidon, you couldn’t breathe.

The water that had raised you invaded your throat so you couldn’t scream as you disappeared beneath the waves, body broken, body new.

The Hawkins Lighthouse swayed a little, rain pelting the dilapidated lighthouse and Eddie and Wynie by extension. The lighthouse was nothing more than a sad landmark these days rather than the fully functioning lighthouse that saved many a ship centuries before. Still as a promise to Wayne, Eddie kept the lighthouse somewhat clean and serviced the lantern as much as he could.

“As he finished cleaning the lantern, he turned it on, the brightness got him every time but he couldn’t help but frown as the strength of the light seemed to dull with every minute that came and went. It would kill his uncle but the sooner the lighthouse was officially decommissioned, the better it would be.

Wynie stood on the other side of the tiny lantern room, wrapped in a star wars blanket with a thermos of hot cocoa, staring at the water below.  It was hard to believe that just two years ago she would zoom around the tiny room, naming everything she spied in the water, begging Eddie to quiz her on all the clockworks, fuel parts, and vents in the service room.

Now she wouldn’t even step a foot outside the cottage much less the shore.

“I’m all finished here if you want to head down. Maybe we could watch a movie or something?” Eddie asked but she was already out of the room before the question fully left his mouth.

Was this how it was going to be forever?

He had failed his wife and child that night and he continued to fall on his ass since.

This was all his fault.

“Holy shit, Dad! Dad!” 

The alarm in his kid’s voice sent him sprinting towards the stairs but Wynie burst back through the door, running to the glass.

“Dad, look! There’s something on the rocks!” She exclaimed, grabbing Eddie by the hand and dragging him to the window.

At first, Eddie saw nothing, squinting hard at the window but as the light passed over the area below, it shone brighter than it had in years, revealing something curled and limp on the rocks.

Not something, someone.

There was a body on the rocks.

“ Eowyn, Wyn, slow down!” Eddie called out to his daughter who ran ahead of him down the steep lighthouse stairs and into the rainstorm below. 

He had left his phone in the cottage stupidly and had no choice but to follow his daughter, flashlight in tow. Wynie stopped just short of the water, frozen in place so quickly Eddie almost slammed into her. His hands shook as his flashlight revealed the limp naked body of a woman draped across the sharp rocks.

He should leave, call or radio for help, but something told him there wasn’t time, dead or alive, he couldn’t just leave you there.

“Stay here.” Eddie ordered Wynie, turning her around as he walked into the rocky water, slipping his jacket off as he slowly approached your body, slipping on the stones as he inched forward towards you, hands meeting your scarily chilled skin. 

Trying not to think of the possibility of holding a dead body, he wasted no time, wrapping his jacket around you and gently slid your body off the rocks and into his arms and had Wynie guided him with her flashlight to the nearest soft patch of sandy shore.

Laying you down flat, he put his head to your chest and listened, the more silence he heard the more fear threatened to overwhelm him.

"Daddy?" The terror and pain in his daughter's voice paralyzed Eddie as he looked down at the completely still woman beneath him.

This was no sight for her.

"Wynie, go inside, call Aunt Robin, tell her we found someone hurt on the beach, she'll know what to do. Put the puppy upstairs then turn the heat up and light the fireplace, just like I taught you. I'll be right behind you, I promise. Can you do that for me?" He asked, putting his hands on her damp shoulders.

Eowyn nodded deeply, straightening herself up with a fierce look of determination in her face that made her look so much like Chrissy his heart hurt even more.

"I can do it Dad." 

"Good girl! Now, go!" He kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away.

She took off running towards the cottage and Eddie steeled himself for what was to come next.

He pressed two fingers into your neck waiting for something, anything, beneath his fingers, but the same stillness continued.  Eddie tilted your chin back, pinching your nose and sealed his mouth to your own breathing deeply, feeling your chest rise to meet his hand.

He repeated the action, breathing for you once again, hoping you sit straight up like in a movie and this whole nightmare would be over but no sooner then he had felt your chest rise with his air did it sink in, just as still.

He gently walked his fingers down to the landmark between your breasts and placed one shaking hand over the other, locked his elbows, straightened his arms, silently praying to anyone as he centered his shoulders over his hands and began to press down hard and fast, counting aloud.

"You got yourself on those fucking rocks, you can do this, come on!" He choked out, ignoring the cold that seeped into his tiring arms threatening to numb his hands but he kept going, the rhythmic sound drowning out his own racing heart, blinking back frustrated tears.  Two minutes felt like an eternity as he checked your pulse again with the same result.

He couldn't do this again.

They couldn't be tied to another death, Wynie couldn’t bear it, Eddie wouldn't survive it.

You were running out of time, he was running out of time before his daughter would no doubt come back outside after doing what she was told and be treated to the sight of another corpse.

It was at that moment that Eddie Munson decided he would not let the sea take another person, even a stranger, from him again.

Sweat and rainwater rolled down his back as he began again, each and every compression a middle finger to Death itself because he would not give up, not until you took a breath or someone ripped him off you.

Two cycles later, Death backed the fuck off.

An ungodly gurgling followed by a wretching sound had Eddie's frozen fingers flying to your neck and he let out something between a laugh and scream at the drum of a pulse beneath his fingertips. He cut his celebration short, turning you on your side as you emptied your stomach of seawater and god knows what else. 

"Let it all out, good girl, you're safe now, you did it." He soothed, alternating between patting your back and rubbing circles.  He caught a glimpse of your half opened eyes, wide and brown before they rolled back into your head and you went limp against him, shivering hard with every breath you took.

The light passed across your face and for a second Eddie swore he saw sharp teeth.

"I need every towel and blanket in the house, where's Robin?" Eddie asked, racing into the warm living room of his seaside cottage, his jacket wrapped around you to give you some privacy and preserve any heat he could give you from the journey from the shore to his home.

"Aunt Nancy answered, Mrs. Sinclair went into labor earlier, she's still on the mainland. She said she'd come herself as soon as there was a break in the storm." Wynie explained, zipping around the cottage collecting a pile of blankets and beach towels.

 Eddie set you down on the already blanket lined couch in front of the fire, quickly peeling off his own wet layers to his semi dry t-shirt underneath before  wrapping a towel around and cocooning you both in blankets, gently rubbing the heat back into you.

"You're gonna be okay, we're gonna get you nice and warm and then we'll get you some help." Eddie whispered into your ear as Eowyn gently placed another comforter over the pair of you, eyes glassy with tears.

"She's not moving, is she gonna die like Mom?" She asked quietly. Eddie held out a hand for his daughter to come forward.

"You see her wrist? Put two fingers right there, it's okay you're not gonna hurt her sweetie." Wynie did as she was instructed, touching your wrist so softly as if it was going to break.

"You feel that? That means she's alive and she's alive because you saw her on those rocks before I did. She's going to be fine once she's not so cold and your Aunt can have a look at her. You're a hero Eowyn Munson, and I'm so proud of you sweetheart." Eddie said,mussing her hair before Wyn smiled the first real smile in a very long time and  ran to the kitchen to make tea. Eddie returned to the task of warming you up, cradling you in his arms. 

"Please don't give up the ghost on my couch after I just gave that awesome speech." 

That’s it for now, I hope this is okay :)

#eddie munson x black reader #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #the mermaid and the lighthouse #eddie munson x reader

[dilfstrap]

masterlist !

hannibal . . . the patient fisherman (will graham)

marvel . . . unstill sniper (frank castle), a very bad job (tony stark), wit's edge (bucky barnes)

stranger things . . . messy metal (eddie munson)

supernatural . . . humming like a car engine (dean winchester)

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #gn reader #mdni #usft #sharkie writes

[madaboutmunson]

Again - Part 17 (Not to be confused with 17 Again ;) )

Part 1 | Part 16 | Part 18 | Full list of Again series links inc AO3 Link

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Notes: As per the winning option on the poll I posted here is your 10K+ part of the story :)

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep, @jewellthebooknerd, @fentiibratzz @rvllybllply2014

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Well…Al-riiiighty then!

That is the only response Steve's brain seems to have to what just happened. Well, what just happened several times over. Well…actually.… not just now, just before he drifted into a euphoric slumber, for however long it's been. He doesn’t know what time it is, and for once, he doesn't care what time it is either.

Steve is very much in a battle in his mind, one part celebrating being the luckiest guy in the world, the other pure fear because Steve knew it was over for him. He was gone, so very gone. Not just hook, line, sinker but also rod, fisherman, his waders, the bait box, his chair and the car he'd driven to the lake in the parking lot, all currently drowning in Eddie Munson.

How was he going to be able to resist Eddie at all now? It's not like he had much in the way of resistance anyway, but now, he basically had none. If he looked at him a certain way from now on, it would send Steve's brain back to this, and he'd be a mess. Who is he kidding? He didn't care how badly he'd got it. Steve snuggles into Eddie's chest more and resigns himself to a happy future of being Eddie's pushover. Eddie's arm is already around him, and he sees his abdomen crease slightly as he gives Steve a kiss on top of his head, and Steve happily accepts his fate.

"Welcome back, honey," Eddie says, his voice a little groggy.

"Hi," Steve answers meekly and looks up at him, causing Eddie to scoff out a laugh.

"Oh, he's quiet now, is he?" Eddie smiles a little smugly, and Steve is mortified and taps him on the side in a vain attempt at annoyance.

"I was…how dare…I mean…ok, I wasn't that loud!" Steve defends, "Besides, you were no church mouse either."

"Hey, man, I don't care. They aren't my neighbours. They don't know my voice, but they'll get used to it quite quickly, I imagine," Eddie chuckles evilly.

"What are you talking about, neighbours? I don't share walls with anyone," Steve laughs.

"No, you're absolutely right, you don't. How silly of me," Eddie says, and Steve feels satisfied he's won this one for a second, "Except you do share a street, right?"

He frowns hard at Eddie but with a confused smile, "Well, of course, I do…." Steve starts with a very condescending tone until it hits him. His face drops, and he looks to the window. It's wide open, and now so is Steve's mouth. "The window!" Steve whimpers in horror. "Why didn't you say something before, Eddie? Jesus Christ!!" Steve exclaims.

Steve gets up to close the window, and he's immediately tackled back into bed. "Steve! You can't give them the audiobook and now the movie," Eddie laughs gesturing at Steve's naked body, "First of all, it was hotter than the firey pits of hell in here! I know you have AC, dude. Turn it on! And then I was busy! So forgive me for not making the window my priority!" 

Cursing under his breath, Steve grabs a sheet off the bed in one firm pull, almost flinging Eddie straight off the other side because he pulls it with so much force and wraps it around his waist before going to the window. Unfortunately, once there, despite being one floor up, he makes eye contact with one of his older neighbours gardening, Ms Montarello's best gal pal Mrs Kensington. He tries to give one of his big neighbourly smile and wave combos, but it soon becomes awkward. In return, she sends him a thumbs up. He just knows this will be on the agenda at their next afternoon tea. Steve wishes the ground would swallow him entirely. Maybe it wasn't too late for the Russians to take him away for real this time or for him to go live in his own alternate dimension of his own construction. Steve feels a weight on his shoulder. It's Eddie's arm leaning on him. "Sorry, my sweet, I didn't mean to leave it open. I swear. I was just trying to make light of it." Eddie genuinely apologises. Steve rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"It's ok, it's done now. Can't have been that bad. She sent back a good review" Steve imitates her thumbs up, turning to Eddie with a big goofy smile, which suddenly falls from his face when he realises that Eddie has not even attempted to cover himself up, so Steve frantically tries to share the sheet with him, as Eddie spots Mrs Kensington and blows her a kiss, "Jesus Christ, Eddie! Cover up! She can see right in here."

"First of all, how good can her eyes be? Secondly, it's our window. She shouldn't be looking in here…" Eddie continues to reason the many ways this is not their fault, and instead, it's Steve's neighbours that are little perverts, but his brain has picked up part of what Eddie said and put it in a protective glass case in Steve's mind museum.

"Our window?" Steve interrupts gently.

"Yeah, our window, that's what I said. They shouldn't be looking in here," Eddie tries to continue before sighing and looking at him. "You haven't been listening to me, have you?"

"Not much after you said, our window, to be honest," Steve says softly, wrapping Eddie tighter in their shared sheet, pulling him towards him. He can see Eddie, whilst not unappreciative, is also confused for a few seconds, and he's trying to figure it out, and then he realises, and the faintest pink blush hits his jaw.

"Oh, sorry. It just kinda fell out of my mouth. I mean your window," Eddie corrects, but Steve shakes his head.

'Nope, No way. I will not sign off on that retcon. It's our window now. If you want, that could be our bed, and back there our closet. Our bathroom, our mirror, our TV, our love seat." Steve looks deeply into Eddie's eyes, "If you wanted that, that is?" Eddie scans Steve's face, and no reply comes, "but obviously no pressure at all." Steve quickly backs off as he tries to hide the excitement inside of him that is bubbling over.

"I mean, there would be a lot to figure out, but, shit, I'd really like that. I-I'd love that, babe," Eddie finally replies.

"You would?!" Steve checks with too much excitement and receives a dewy-eyed nod in confirmation. "Oh, well, in that case." Steve wrenches open the window again, "These are your neighbours too, now. It's only fair they get to hear how loud you can be, right?" Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve scoops him up in the sheet and pretty much body-slams him back into bed.

"Who are you? And what have you done with friendly neighbourhood Steve Harrington?!" Eddie laughs.

"Last I heard, some charismatic cult leader got their dragon claws into him, and he hasn't been the same since," Steve smiles hugely, caging Eddie in his arms. "Took out more than double his hit points, an insta-kill!" Steve adds, hovering over Eddie in their sheet tangle, diving down for a kiss before pushing up with his arms to pull away to look down at this beautiful creature, satanic or otherwise. It didn't really matter.

Eddie lets out an excitable growl and grabs hold of the sheet behind Steve to pull him in closer, "Gods be damned, Steve, this brisket is gonna be a shadow of itself, but you know I can't resist when you talk nerdy to me" Eddie adds before he's cut off with another kiss from Steve.

“Have I found the weakness of stone-cold heavy metal legend Eddie Munson? Nerdy talk? How did you get through your days surrounded by geeks, huh? Must have been a boner minefield,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose against Eddies, still in total disbelief that any of this was his life now, or at least had the potential to be. They had to work out a few other things with Jenny and the kids, but he pushes that to the side for now, focusing on the angel beneath him.

“Ok, first of all, ew! Images of the geeks I hung out with at school, or the games store have no place in my brain right now. Bad, Steve!” He attempts to reprimand Steve, but his voice is far too gentle, and his eyelids droop as he gazes into his eyes. Soon he is wiggling his arms free of the sheet and caressing Steve’s back tenderly, “And, well, it only works when a jock does it. A specific jock. ‘Bout time you caught up, though.” Eddie laughs softly, pulling Steve in tighter with the sheet, and leaning up for another kiss, but Steve pulls away playfully.

“Caught up? I’m in the lead,” Steve mutters, pouting his lips out so they almost brush Eddie’s, and his hooded eyes trail over his beautiful face. Fuck, you’re the luckiest and, at the same time, the most sorry-whipped guy in the universe, Steve Harrington. He finally makes eye contact with Eddie again, only to see his eyes roll.

“You are not in the lead, no matter how cute you are trying to be about it,” Eddie replies, unable to stop his eyes dropping to stare at Steve's mouth. Steve moves his arms further up the mattress so his hands dip into Eddie’s hair earning him an appreciative moan from his beau.

“I think you’re wrong about that,” he says quietly, “I’m in the lead. Nerdy shit, Metal, your hair, when I jump to your defence and when hold you just right. I’m miles ahead of you, Eddie. You’re still in the starting blocks,” Steve laughs gently as Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Is that so? Hmmm,” Eddie teases. “Believe me when I say. I have many of your weaknesses tucked away, Sweetheart. I just don't use them all because it's not fair.”

“Not fair, how?” Steve says, confused, frowning and pouting a little at this revelation. Eddie leans up and kisses between his furrowed brows to relax them again.

“Holy hell, you’re cute. You know that?” Eddie sighs against Steve’s chest and blinks himself back into the subject at hand, “It's not fair because you don’t remember, and at the time, I really shouldn't have been logging these things. I should have just been being your friend. Can you forgive me for wanting to be your everything?” Eddie presses his soft lips to the side of Steve’s neck, making him see stars. “Can you forgive me for building a toolkit of what I imagined were all the things I needed to make you fall in love with me, even though I knew it was impossible?” Eddie mutters against his throat, and all Steve can do is close his eyes in bliss and attempt to concentrate on remaining propped up on his arms so that he doesn't fall entirely onto Eddie. Finally, Steve clears his throat and opens his eyes slowly with a quick breath.

“Now, that doesn't count. You said you had a whole bunch from before,” Steve tries to protest as Eddie stops mid-nuzzle against his neck.

“Oh, you want the big guns, do you?” Eddie grins, grabs hold of Steve, and turns them to the side. Steve can’t help his smile, and a trickle of giggles escapes his mouth. Eddie goes to speak, and Steve quickly puts a finger to his lips.

“With the backstory? Please?” Steve asks in an overly soft tone of pleading. Eddie crosses his eyes and bites his bottom lip, making Steve laugh.

“Can I get my turn? Backstory? Seriously!” Eddie shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, I’m beginning to feel glad this didn’t happen sooner. Limited-experience Eddie would definitely have struggled to survive a newly converted King Steve.”

“Get on with it!” Steve playfully pokes at him.

“Oh! Stefano! Never rush the storyteller! Rule numero uno!” Eddie says wide-eyed before narrowing his eyes and biting his lip, “How about a re-enactment?” Steve nods excitedly in agreement, hoping that he’ll gain another memory. “Ok, but it does mean you're gonna have to turn away from me” Eddie points over Steve’s shoulder to the wall behind him, making Steve’s eyebrows raise in disappointed surprise, “Trust me, it's only for a moment” Eddie reassures him, and Steve rolls to face the wall. He half expects Eddie to snuggle up behind him, but it doesn't happen. Eddie hasn't moved from lying face up on the bed.

“So backstory. You had come over to ours as usual, but it was clear to me you had been really upset about something, but, well, I wasn't sure if I should pry, considering you’d just been at home and I knew you're parents were back. I figured they’d upset you somehow. Anyway, I got you a beer, and we shared a few joints on my bed, nothing out of the ordinary until you rolled away. Then you opened up like a little clam, ever such a tiny amount. You said when you got home, your Dad had been drinking and was arguing with your Mom. Being who you are, I knew you’d stepped in to defend her and caught the sharp end of your Dad’s temper. You didn't tell me what he said. You just said he’d smashed one of your favourite records. I knew that a smashed record wouldn't have been enough for someone like you to get upset, and it wasn't the first time your Dad had been a drunk asshole, but it's all I had to go on. So I asked you what record it was. You told me it was Bryan Adams” Steve tries to remember what it might be but can't capture it. He twists his fingers in the sheet pooled in front of him. He definitely remembers his Dad being an asshole, but it was such the norm that Steve had trouble separating one occurrence from another. He expects Eddie probably did something sweet, like got him a replacement or offered him his own copy. Then, Steve hears Eddie clear his throat.

Oh, once in your life you find someone

Who will turn your world around

Bring you up when you're feelin' down

Eddie sings out quietly, the raspiness in his voice imitating the singer like it was an impression, and suddenly the wall in front of Steve changes, and it's dark now. The pillow he is on isn't as fluffy, and he’s curled up on Eddie’s old bed. He can see the guitar hanging there and the hazy smoke drifting lazily through the moonlight.

Yeah, nothin' could change what you mean to me

Oh, there's lots that I could say

But just hold me now

'Cause our love will light the way

Steve smiles as Eddie’s singing gets more enthusiastic and louder, and he hears himself laugh, and he expects that might have shut Eddie down back then, but as soon as he thinks that. 1986 Eddie has vaulted off the bed over him, stumbling to the floor. Steve gets up to help him, but Eddie is already dusting off his Batman Pajama bottoms. He picks up his hairbrush from the mirror and yells out the chorus, complete with eyes screwed up tight and air grabs.

And, baby, you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

Then Steve hears something else, “BOY! IF YOU DON'T PIPE DOWN THIS GODDAMN INSTANT,” Its Wayne yelling from the bedroom across the hall of the new trailer. Eddie throws open his bedroom door and sings even louder and more dramatically.

Yeah, love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven.

Eddie's face quickly changes from imitating an 80’s rockstar to one of a kid about to get in serious trouble, but he has a massive grin on his face as he dives over Steve to hide behind him. Steve looks to his side, and he can see Eddie’s ringed hand holding onto his arm and his mischievous eyes peering over him, using Steve as a wall of defence against the incoming storm Wayne. And it does arrive, but as he steps into the room, he looks at them both, nods “Steve.” and then points a finger at Eddie. “Keep it down, you hear me?” he says seriously but much more gently. Steve feels Eddie nod against his side, and Wayne leaves, closing the door gently behind him. Then he reaches for Eddie’s hand.

“Thanks, man. That was pretty funny,” Steve says quietly with a laugh. Eddie shrugs.

“It was the only one I knew by him, if you’re, er, wondering about the weird choice. I don’t even know all the words” Eddie scratches at the back of his neck and then disappears behind him again, leaving his hand under Steve’s. He rolls onto his back to join Eddie, looking up at the ceiling, carefully placing their hands between them. 

“I can, uh, help you with the rest if you wanna sing some more? Just you know quietly so we don't disturb Wayne,” Steve offers nervously. He can feel his heart thundering in his chest but can hear his thoughts too. Eddie’s just being kind, don't make this weird. He was just trying to cheer you up. You’d do the same for Robin.

“Sure” He can hear the smile in Eddie’s younger voice, “What's the next line?”

He feels a pinch on his side, and suddenly the ceiling is his own.

“Hey, mister, you can’t go for that long. Even if I do look super cute in there.” Eddie says, almost sounding a little jealous of his past self.

“Sorry about that. It's just exciting to get all this new stuff. Well, old stuff back.” Steve defends bashfully, turning to Eddie.

“It was a lie, by the way,” Eddie utters delicately.

“What was?” Steve worries that somehow Eddie had made this all up, and maybe what he recalled didn't happen at all.

“You think with my sense of humour and love for playing guitar, I didn’t know Summer of ‘69? Pu-lease! Not that past-Eddie hadn't noticed him in your collection and studied that album at length. I knew all the lyrics too. I’d been practising them when you weren't around” He rolls his eyes, “In fantasy land, I was gonna serenade you with my guitar when you finally realised that out of everyone in the world, mansion-dwelling Steve Harrington was gonna settle for little trailer-trash Eddie Munson.” He laughs, “God, I was a piece of work back then.”

“Well, he wasn't wrong, was he?” Steve turns on his side to face Eddie and reaches out to guide his eyes to his own. “You’re not wrong either, though.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie smiles as he moves onto his side and shuffles against the bedding to be closer to Steve.

“Mansion-dwelling Steve Harrington did very much want little trailer….dwelling Eddie Munson” Steve corrects, holding Eddie's face in his hands, “And you were right, because you singing to me like that is definitely working for me, baby” Eddies eyebrows flash, and an excitable smile appears on his face. “Also, I lied too,” Steve barely says, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Whaddyamean?” Eddie's words are muffled against Steve’s lips, and Steve returns a tiny whisper of a laugh to Eddie’s before moving back the smallest amount.

“My Dad didn't break that record. He was probably being an asshole, though. I just wanted to hear your voice sing something sweet for me, and I didn't know how to ask for that without it being weird. I knew how kind a heart you had, and I thought the chances were slim, but I must have been so low I went for it, and you came through like you always do,” Steve says fondly, searching Eddie’s blinking bambi eyes. “With that said…Wanna make some noise?” Steve asks, trying to hold back his own laugh at his corny line. Eddie nods enthusiastically.

“Bur-a-rum”, Steve mutters next to Eddie’s ear, only to find himself clasped firmly by the shoulders and Eddie looking at him wide-eyed.

“Steve, did you just try and speak Entish to me?” Eddie asks interrogatively.

“See, I do listen”, Steve smiles mischievously.

“Ok, well, just so you know, that is a noise of disgust.” Eddie informs, but before Steve can pout about getting it wrong, his chin is scooped up between Eddie’s thumb and forefinger, “But that does not negate the effort, of the nerdiness of what you just did. I. Very. Much. Appreciate. It” he punctuates his words with kisses around Steve’s face, as he tangles him back up in the covers with him.

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Much to their surprise, the brisket survived, and Eddie was absolutely correct. They were both starving, and it was a taste sensation. They didn't even carve the thing, just tore it apart in front of the TV. Both of them in actual shorts this time, in case Steve forgot another appointment, are sitting on seat cushions pulled to the floor. Eddie sat between Steve's legs whenever he tore off a piece splitting it in two and offering the other part over his shoulder to Steve. And whenever Steve stretched forward, Eddie would kiss his cheek quickly. Then once he leaned back and finished chewing, Steve would put a kiss on the back of Eddie's neck, where he'd already parted the hair, just for that purpose.

"You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier, and I just want to make sure I understand. You were asking me to stay longer than this week, right?" Eddie asks, and Steve can hear the cautiousness in his voice. Steve squeezes him reassuringly with his thighs.

"Yeah, Uh-huh, that is precisely what I meant," Steve answers confidently with no hesitation.

"But what about when the kids are here? I’m still kinda new to them, and will Jenny be ok with some stranger living with her kids?" Eddie asks again with that hint of worry.

"Hey, don’t worry. Here are my thoughts, ok?” Steve squeezes Eddie’s sides gently with his legs again. “How about this? You live in our home with me when the kids aren't here. When the kids are here, you can stay in a guest room or your RV if you want, ok? For however long you want. Until you and the kids are cool with you living here. Meanwhile, you can come with me to meet Jenny and Val. You can get to know them, and I just know they'll love you, babe. Jenny might be a bit prickly initially, but that isn't personal. She's just a mama and cares about me because we’re family." Steve leans forward, puts his arms around Eddie and rests on his shoulder, "It would be wonderful if, when everyone was comfortable with it, we added you to that concept too. Family." Steve knows maybe he's saying too much, thinking too far ahead, but this wasn't some stranger he'd met a few weeks ago. It was Eddie. His Eddie, and if there was anything he'd learned the past few days, it was this. No matter the layers that the last fifteen years had tried to bury him under, Steve's Eddie is still there, and what he knows about the Eddie he has now is also amazing. Sure, there were some bad spots for him over the last fifteen years, but that isn't who he is now, and the reason for him being that way is gone too.

There is a pause, and Steve feels Eddie's chest rise and fall quickly. It's not until a little droplet hits his arm Steve realises that Eddie is crying because he's doing it entirely silently. Steve closes his eyes almost to hide from the pain of realisation of why anyone would have developed a silent cry in the first place. So someone at some point couldn't hear them. He squeezes Eddie as tightly as he can with his whole body, "I got you," Steve whispers, "Like I said, not until you want it, ok, not until you're ready, even if that's never. Even if you only wanna be with me when the kids aren't here, and you wanna still have your slice of freedom. No matter the arrangements or weird convoluted plans, I'm not going to give us up unless you tell me it's over. So you're safe to be yourself. I adore you." Steve tries to comfort Eddie with his words too.

They sit like that in silence for a little while longer until Steve feels Eddie's body calm in his arms. Then through sniffles and sharp intakes of breath, Eddie manages, "A-and-and W-Wayne?" Steve doesn't remember hearing Eddie stutter this badly before. Then, in a repetitive, soothing motion, he gently rubs Eddie’s arms to try and help calm him down a little more.

"Of course, and Wayne, Jack and Morgan, Gareth and Annie, and all those huge lumberjack siblings of hers. A small frog you befriend on your way home. Whatever you come with, Eddie. As long as it doesn't endanger my kids, I don't care, and I know you would never do that" Steve smiles against Eddie's hair as he envelops him back in his arms again.

"N-never," Eddie repeats, taking a deep breath and quickly wrapping his own arms over Steve's, holding on tightly. "I-I-I," Eddie grunts in frustration, and Steve guesses it must be because of the stuttering. Eddie loves words, and Steve imagines maybe this was why. A little boy with a stutter, overcoming it and using that power to talk about anything and everything. All the way until storytelling and performance become an integral part of who he is as a person. 

He hears Eddie take another deep breath, "I'd like to stay." he manages and takes yet another deep breath, "When the k-kids are here, I-I-I," another frustrated sound before another round of deep breaths, "ssssstay in the RV. Un-until they're ok with it" another pause, and Steve can hear Eddie trying to form some words, but they aren't coming out. Finally, he huffs, breaks free of Steve, pushing his arms away, gets up suddenly and storms out of the living room, and Steve hears the front door slam open.

"Eddie!!" Steve yells after him. His heart is pounding. He said he wasn't going to run, but now Steve has pushed him too far too quickly, and he's just bolted. Steve's legs feel like they've filled with the weighted lead of absolute fear as he gets up to chase after him, but before he even gets to his feet, the front door slams again, and a furious-looking Eddie is back storming towards the Hi-Fi clutching a CD in his hands.

"Eddie, what the hell is going on?! Jesus Christ! I thought you'd gone," Steve exclaims with a sigh of relief, sinking back to the cushion on the floor, looking at a hunched-over Eddie who is hitting the buttons so hard Steve can hear him doing it. A song starts playing, and Eddie stomps over to a bewildered Steve. His nose is still scrunched up in frustration as he sits on Steve's thighs, his eyes ringed red from crying, and he captures Steve's face in his hands, clutching at it a little too hard, but Steve doesn't care about that, he's still relieved that Eddie didn't run away. Steve opens his mouth to apologise, but Eddie puts his finger against Steve's lips and forces him to look at the Hi-Fi. Steve doesn't know what's going on, so he just takes it as Eddie wants him to listen to the song, so he does.

I got to tell you what I'm feeling inside, 

I could lie to myself, but it's true.

There's no denying when I look in your eyes, 

Girl, I'm out of my head over you.

I lived so long believin' all love is blind

But everything about you is tellin' me this time

It's forever, 

this time I know, and there's no doubt in my mind

Forever, 

until my life is through, 

Girl, I'll be loving you forever

Steve feels Eddie's grip finally loose on his face, and he takes the opportunity to turn to look at him. Eddie is frantically looking at Steve for understanding. Steve's mind is a whirl, he doesn't know quite what to say, and he sees Eddie's shoulders sink in defeat as he hangs his head to start to turn away. Steve grabs Eddie's shoulder and lets the words fall out, without a quality control check, "I hear you. I mean, I heard you. What the guy is singing, right?" Steve sputters and hopes to God he's right that this wasn't a set of lyrics he's misinterpreted, but when Eddie's eyes meet his again, he's sure it's what they're saying, "You love me? Forever, right? Like he was singi-" Steve tries again, he probably should be more embarrassed about the desperation in his voice, but he isn't going to let this just pass him by. He wanted to be right so badly. However, the only answer he gets is Eddie diving in for a kiss, his tattooed arms thrown entirely around Steve's neck, and once the initial surprise is over, Steve wraps him up in his arms again, dipping him back into a deeper one. Steve takes the action as a yes, and his heart beats fiercely in his chest, afraid and eager simultaneously. His head swims with possibilities again. He loved this man so much, maybe too much and never enough all at once. He raises his knees and squeezes his arms to pull Eddie in as close as he possibly can. Physically wanting him to know that Steve would always keep him safe from harm of any kind. Forever. "I love you," Steve whispers against his mouth before kissing him again.

He hoists Eddie to his feet with him, leading him in a slow dance around the living room to the remainder of the song, with huge smiles on their faces. Steve holds him close, then twirls him around some until Eddie lets out a small laugh.

"I thought when you said you needed time, it would be longer than a couple of hours," Steve playfully teases Eddie, "But I suppose maybe something completely mind-blowing might have happened in those few hours to change that, maybe?" Steve mischievously tries to coax Eddie back out of his non-verbal state.

Eddie hits him on the upper arm with a light tap, "Again with this Ego", Eddie laughs, and Steve is relieved to hear him talk again. He’d never seen that happen to Eddie before, or at least he can’t ever recall that happening, but rather than dwell on it, Steve opts to continue easing Eddie back to normal. 

"You love it," Steve says with a wink as he gently sways him to the music.

Eddie pulls a face that looks like he wants to be annoyed but is too amused, "How I wish you were wrong about that, babe. I feel like I've roused up a monster from hibernation."

"A monster, huh? No one's called it that before," Steve says with a smirk.

Another arm tap, "That is not what I meant! And you know it!" Eddie laughs that light dusting of pink across his cheeks appears.

"Oh, how's it feel to have the tables turned on you, sweetheart?" Steve says in his best Eddie impersonation.

"Ok, now that's weird. Stop that immediately!" Eddie laughs and takes a deep breath looking into Steve's eyes, "I guess….I was confused because I didn't feel worthy. You said what you said, and I absolutely wanted to say it right back, but then I thought, Christ, maybe he's just all caught up in this, and he's not thinking about what I've done, you know? So I guess I didn't need time. I just needed courage, and then when I finally got the courage, I was so overwhelmed I couldn't even speak. Overwhelmed with good things, I mean. You're just so good to me." He says, leaning against him as Steve gently sways them around the room.

"Worthy? No, honey. If anything, you're the prize here. Smart, funny, beautiful, kind, and smoking fucking hot, by the way. Just ask our neighbours. Two of them would agree and might be plotting my assassination as we speak! Maybe more now?" Steve pouts out his bottom lip and shrugs.

"Ok, ok. We could fight this out all day. So let's call it even, shall we, Mr Most Eligible Divorcée? '' Eddie laughs.

"No way. Consider me Mr Most Ineligible, absolutely obsessed with his future husband," Steve smiles at his own joke. Half-joke. Not a joke at all.

"You know people are gonna think we're insane, right?" Eddie says against his chest, "We went on our first date Sunday night, it's now Wednesday, and we're moving in together."

"Let them!" Steve frowns as he protectively holds Eddie closer. "Let them think what they want. My whole existence has been doing things to fit into boxes, so I can get by in life. The few times I went off track, life was tough, but I made it. My little family made it in our own unusual way." He thinks for a second, "And, you know, maybe I'm tired of exhausting myself over what other people think when I'm often wrong about it. It's just that old mentality from my parents and their circles. I've been wrong about it twice today already. Monty loved ogling you in your underwear, and the one person I know who heard us earlier gave me a thumbs up. Maybe the only opinions that should matter are those of the people I love and those who actually make an effort to be in my life because they are the people I need. They keep me going every day." He presses his hand against Eddie's cheek and he looks at him. "Like that book said. The people that mind don't matter, and the people that matter don't mind. Even if they are right, and we are crazy," Steve smiles with a sigh. "So…just so I'm not running away with my own thoughts here, could you tell me what you wanna do regarding this," Steve gestures around them and then between them, "about us. Even if it's just like a brainstorming stage. I'm just very conscious I've been blabbing on for a while now" He laughs a little and guides Eddie back to the floor cushions, but this time they face one another cross-legged and hold hands.

Eddie beams at him, "Ok, well, I'm gonna try my best."

"Hey listen, you need to take a break or anything l, just say ok, or if you can't say, we'll get a signal like….um….I don't know….um… tap your bats. I'll always be able to see that, right? Or whatever you think is easiest."

"That sounds ok, sure" Eddie takes one pair of their held hands and taps them on his arm to check, "Yeah, that'll do for now" He smiles and takes a huge deep breath as if preparing himself to speak quickly "So, in case it wasn't abundantly clear. I am absolutely, totally, stupidly in love with you. I never want to leave you for longer than I have to. I wanna stay here with you. I want you to tour the country with me. I wanna be part of your family. I want all of you as part of mine." He smiles at Steve and laughs, "I want a lot of things…sorry…I must sound crazy. I feel crazy. This is crazy right?" His vast smile erupts with the most heavenly laugh Steve has ever heard as Eddie shakes them from side to side in excitement.

Steve squeezes Eddie's hands tightly in his own, "Maybe? I don't know. One person's crazy could be our normal, though, right? We could do all those things." Steve's eyes shoot down to Eddie's arm to see if he reaches for it, but he does not move their hands.

"Yeah, we could," Eddie says softly, with a sweet happy smile on his face, "We could definitely try" Steve's eyes move cautiously back up to Eddie's, and Steve nods in agreement. This. Is. Happening. He still can't quite believe it, and his brain quickly flicks back to that thought from earlier. Eddie pacing this living room, a babe in his arms, and he's singing, cooing, and then he looks up at Steve with that huge grin. Then it flicks to watching Eddie being walked down an aisle by Wayne. Then it's rolling over in his bed to a mass of curls, and he feels the tears prick his eyes but tries to blink them away quickly. He reaches forward, touches Eddie's bat tattoo with their joined hands, making Eddie laugh, and pulls him in for a hug. "Holy shit, Steve. This is wild." Eddie mutters into his hair as he holds Steve against his chest. "I think we should call someone. Make a royal proclamation," Eddie says grandly, flourishing his hand in the air. Clearly, overcoming an emotional blockage injects Eddie with pure fuel. What did the kids used to say? Something like he was revved up. Eddie gets to his feet, yanks Steve to the kitchen table, and starts looking at his cell phone. 

He taps the number into the conference telephone and puts his finger to his lips at Steve as the phone rings and a familiar voice rings out.

"STEVE?!! HOW THE DEVIL ARE YOU?" Dustin yells down the phone.

"No, it's not Steve," Eddie says seriously, hiding his silent laughter behind his hand.

"Whaaaaaat the fuuuuuck?" there is a little rustle over the line, which must be Dustin rechecking the caller's name on his phone, "Eddie?"

"Yes, it's me, you little shit," Eddie scolds, desperately trying not to laugh. "I notice you haven't even bothered asking how I am, not like your precious Harrington, huh?" Eddie pretends to be insulted.

"But wait…what the hell…hang on! Hang on! How are you calling me but my phone says Steve."

"Oh my god, it's like I don't even fucking exist. Steve, Steve, Steve. I don't know why your phone is being a dick. You know what, man. Forget it. I'll call you back when you've stopped daydreaming about Harrington. Urgh" Eddie ends the call and bursts out laughing. Steve looks wide-eyed at him. "Look, that kid cannot resist a mystery. He'll call back shortly, guaranteed!" And as the words leave his mouth, the conference phone rings. Eddie gestures for Steve to answer.

"Yello, Harrington residence!"

"Steve?"

"Henderson!! How are you?" Steve says enthusiastically, shrugging at Eddie, who is indicating with his hands for Steve to continue.

"Fine now, I think. The weirdest shit just happened," Dustin says, taking a breath.

"Can I go back to planning my campaign now? Or do I have to babysit your phone calls some more?" A familiar voice chides Dustin.

Steve and Eddie turn to one another with wide eyes and open mouths.

"Erica?!" Steve blurts out in surprise.

"I told you to keep your voice down! Now Steve knows everyone will know," Dustin complains.

"Oh, thanks a lot!" Steve huffs.

"What do you mean? Everyone already knows! Because my brother can't keep his stupid mouth shut, and you stupidly told him at Christmas after too much of Joyce's eggnog," Erica states 

"I'm not gonna keep us a secret from my best friend, your brother. That's just deceitful. I would never do that. It's family." Dustin raises his voice, and Steve can almost hear the hand gestures.

"You keep talking to me like that. You're gonna have something else to tell everyone when I leave you all alone by your nerdy ass self!" Erica snaps back

"Erica, no, come on. I didn't mean it like that." Steve hears Dustin's voice trail away from the phone. Eddie is leaning over the conference phone, staring at it, and desperately waiting for the next part of his real-life soap opera. "You know, I just get passionate about stuff sometimes, and I was freaking out because of the whole Eddie thing. I haven't heard from him in years. Come on, Sprinkles, I'm sorry, please!"

"Fine, but you're on thin ice, Dustin, thin goddamn ice! And you're taking me out for dinner in….twenty minutes as an apology, so finish up with Captain Hairspray" Eddie looks at a gobsmacked Steve and slaps his hands over his mouth to contain his giggles.

There is a scramble for the phone, "Ok, so you know that now" and a little awkward laugh from Dustin. "Hope you didn't mind, just something weird happened earlier. Anyway, how are things with you? How are the kids?"

"Oh, the kids are great, and I'm doing really great, too, actually," Steve says, flashing Eddie a knowing smile.

"Haha! No way!! I hear it in your voice, buddy! Seems like we're both doing great in that department, huh?" Dustin enthuses with a sweet laugh.

"Yeah, really great, they're around here somewhere if you wanna meet, well speak to them?"

"Oh my god, is it serious, Steve? Is it like big-time serious relationship stuff? Oh my god! Oh my fucking god!! Yes, I gotta meet them."

"Why are you cursing so loud? You want the neighbours to complain again, hmm?" Erica complains.

"No honey suckle, no. Steve's found someone. It's serious, isn't that great?"

"Ohhh, now it makes sense…wait, you don't get it do you? Seriously?! Oh my god, why am I even dating you? I know they call you a genius at work, but as far as I can see, you're still at least fifty per cent dumbass. But, Steve, I'm happy for you both, and you still owe me ice cream!"

"What do you mean? Wait, come back here. What do you mean I don't get it?!" Dustin calls after her.

"Eighteen  minutes, Dustin." She reminds him.

"Wow. Erica, huh? What happened to Suzie?"

"Yeah, that ran its course. We branched out into different scientific fields. And Erica…phew…well, she keeps me on my toes…let's say that. However, Steve, as you can hear, I've dug myself into the dog house here. I'll call you back later. It's great to speak to you. Love you, man."

"Um, love you too," and the line clicks off.

"Well, so much for that one. How about we call Wayne, huh?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, let's see what the old timer is up to" Steve smiles, but something is swirling in his stomach. A nervousness.

Eddie taps in the number. 

"Yep?" A gruff voice answers.

Eddie widens his eyes at Steve and nods towards the speaker.

"Uh…hi…hello Mr Munson it's…"

"Sunshine?!" Wayne enthusiastically asks, and that's when Steve nearly falls apart entirely. He always had that rough texture to his voice, but the way his age has crept around it, adding wear and tear, makes him sound a little more frail than tough but still that tender Wayne Munson from 1986. Steve's hand reaches out and grabs onto Eddie’s shoulder.

"Yeah, it's me, Steve," He manages to reply with a massive smile, a rogue tear spilling from his eye because Wayne remembered him, and Eddie gives his hand a squeeze and a big reassuring smile.

"Everythin' ok, Sunny? It's not the boy is it?" He says, and Steve can hear him groan, getting out of his chair and reaching for his keys.

"No, I'm good, Uncle Wayne. We're good. Everything's ok" Eddie takes over, and Steve hears the keys hit a surface and a soft thud, which must be Wayne flopping back into his chair.

"Better than ok I'd wager if you're callin' me together?" There is another voice in the background, and then he hears Wayne yell back, "It's Eddie…yeah, he's fine…I'll ask him about those Broadway tickets, sugar, but I think they'll be all sold out."

"He thinks it's years ago. He thinks I'm still in New York," Eddie whispers to Steve.

"Sorry 'bout that. Jack doesn't like feelin' left out.  Anyhoo, were you callin' just to say Hi?"

"Well yeah, kinda, but er, I guess, this is as good a time as any…I've got intentions for your nephew, sir." Steve says, flashing a charming smile at Eddie, who shies away a little like he's blushing.

"Oh?" Wayne says in surprise.

"Yeah, I thought, as Eddie wanted to call, I may as well ask you now. Do I have your blessing?" A genuine nervousness descends onto Steve. Wayne was a nice guy, but Eddie was basically his son, and if he said no, that could be a huge problem.

Wayne cackles loudly down the phone, "Hoooo boy, you're gonna try an' make an honest man outta Eddie?" Wayne erupts with laughter again, "You have my blessing, sure, but also my deepest sympathy."

"Oooh, you old goat, I swear you're lucky I'm in such a good mood!" Eddie tries to be annoyed but ends up laughing anyway. 

"How long do I have to get a new suit?" Wayne chuckles

"Oh, the actual event won't be for some time, I imagine," Steve says with a laugh of pure relief.

"Just consider that and the paperwork formalities we'll address much later," Eddie adds.

"Well, sounds like you got it all covered. You boys are always welcome here, and your little 'uns Sunshine. Eddie said they're just like ya. Bet that makes you mighty proud," Steve chews on his bottom lip to stop bursting into tears. Eddie shifts his chair around, drapes an arm around him, and Steve’s hand smooths along his back and grips onto the back of Eddie’s neck, "Do they know?" Wayne asks.

Steve sniffs, "Oh yeah, they knew before us, I think. They've definitely had their say on the matter, very smart and maybe a little on the sassy side too."

"Just like their old man," Wayne chuckles, and that pushes Steve over the edge, and he can't hold the tears back anymore, and Eddie cradles him into his chest and strokes his hair.

"Ok, well, we're gonna go, but I'll call you tomorrow, maybe sort out a visit?" Eddie covers quickly.

"Really?! Well, that'd be great. I'd need to get the guest room sorted, so give me a few days' warnin'." Wayne says excitedly.

"Hey, don't get doing yourself a mischief over chores. I'll help you when I get there, and anything else, call the cleaner and send me the bill. Otherwise, I will arrange a regular carer for you too!" Eddie threatens, and Steve would probably laugh if he wasn’t crying so hard. The only thing Eddie could threaten Wayne with was someone employed to take care of him.

"Well, alright then", Wayne reluctantly grumbles. "It was great to hear from you, Steve, don't be a stranger, ya hear? I'll speak to you tomorrow, Eddie. Love ya both" Steve tightens his grip on Eddie like he can't hold him hard enough.

"Love you too," they reply in unison. Steve mostly speaks his goodbye into Eddie's shoulder. Eddie ensures the phone call has ended properly and then turns his attention to Steve. Rocking him gently and rubbing circles on his upper back.

"Hey now, shh, shh, it's ok. You're ok, babe. Everything's ok" Eddie soothes until Steve releases his grip leaving little pink finger marks on Eddie's skin.

"Ah, shit. Sorry. I tried to keep it together," Steve says, turning away from Eddie, wiping his eyes and tries to get out of his chair, but Eddie gently pushes him back down into it and stands up.

"Tell me what you need. I wanna do it. What were you gonna do?" He says with a sigh, his face in a slight frown.

"It's ok, I can do it. I'm just being over dramatic" Steve tries to laugh it off and tries to stand up again. Eddie repeats the same motion.

"I didn't say you couldn't do it. I said I wanted to do it for you. So water?" Eddie gestures at the sink, and Steve nods. "You want ice in it?" Eddie asks, moving towards the refrigerator, but Steve shakes his head in a no. Eddie brings him the glass and puts a coaster underneath it before placing it in front of Steve, his eyes moving over Steve quickly, looking for clues, "You wanna talk about it?"

"It's not a big deal. I'm just not used to people, well, older people being proud of me" He shrugs a little, and Eddie softly closes his eyes in understanding for a second."I know that's dumb. I'm my own man, a parent myself. It's just when I'd visit, and sure, I don't remember a lot, but I do remember he showed me love, and I didn't even have to do anything to get it. I didn't need to be a star athlete, or-or earn a stupid jacket, or get straight A's or know what college I wanted to go to, or be a Wall Street success. And that's not because Wayne didn't care about what I was gonna do. It's because he would care about me the same whether I got those things or not."

"You listen to me. Anyone who can't see what a great man and Dad you are is just plain fucking stupid, ok? You don't need them. You've got the rest of us." He shuffles closer to Steve, "It took me a long time to realise that myself, but I got lucky. I got Wayne. That doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt sometimes. Like, why wasn't I enough for them? But the truth is nothing would ever be good enough for them because they just projected their failings and insecurities onto us. We can't marionette-fix problems that aren't ours. We have no context or instructions for them. Deep down, they don't like themselves very much, and when they couldn't stand to see what they'd done, they left us to rot, but we didn't, babe. We thrived. Call us weeds or flowers. We bloomed in those harsh conditions. We made it. We're happy. They're still miserable somewhere" Steve nods in agreement.

"You're right. I know you are. It just still stings sometimes when someone who knew me for a blip makes me feel better about myself than he ever did, but he's still my Dad, you know. My Mom is just, I dunno, she tries, but ultimately they're a package deal." Steve wipes the tears from his eyes again.

"I know, honey. I know that. I just don't want you to think for a second that it's your fault. It's not. It never was. It was all him." Eddie reassures him. "Besides, I mean, now you're basically my husband. I have to officially share the old goat with you, right? But not just all the nice bits. You can have his tantrums at technology, too," Eddie says, reeling back in his chair, making Steve laugh and giving him a small genuine smile. Eddie leans forward again and looks straight into Steve's eyes. "Look, anytime you wanna talk about something, or like you just did, show me you need me, do it. I'm not great at always picking up on things. You, Morgan and Wayne, are the people I'm best at, but sometimes I still get it wrong. Sometimes I might miss things, but regardless, I'm gonna be right here. You don't need to apologise for getting upset. You're a human being, and you aren't on your own anymore, babe. Let me help. Tap my bats" He pulls Steve's hand to his arm.

Eddie kisses the back of each of his hands. He takes a deep breath. "I love you. You are mine, and I don't know if you remember how precious I can be about my stuff, man, but Wayne will tell ya, I don't play nice with people that mess with my prized possessions. Also, I've been watching violent movies since I was about five, and all the bullying makes me quite resilient to taking a punch, and I could probably talk a person into a coma. So I got all that covered, sweetheart. Not saying anyone else didn't do a good job at looking after you. I'm sure they did. But the fact remains they aren't gonna do as good a job as me."

Steve looks at the man opposite him, and maybe for the first time in his adult life, he trusts someone can take care of him. Perhaps he could let go sometimes, and Eddie could catch him. Hand trembling, he reaches over and taps Eddie's bat tattoo, and he feels a breath shudder out of him as he releases control, and Eddie gives a small smile. "Drink your water, sweetheart. I'll be right back." 

Eddie leaves him for a few minutes, but Steve notices he's humming, and the further away he gets, the louder he hums or sings. Steve can hear things moving around, the front door opening and closing, and usually, he'd jump to see what was happening, but he just leans back on the kitchen chair and lets it happen.

Eddie returns and rubs his shoulders gently, "Alright, sweetheart. You ready?" He asks softly, and once Steve nods, Eddie takes his hand and walks him into the living room. Steve looks around and gasps. 

The living room is in darkness, the blinds and curtains are all closed, and occasional slivers of light try to break through the gaps, but it is minimal and probably wouldn't be around for long. Steve can see the DVD menu for The Breakfast Club on the TV. Near the coffee table is a cooler of beers and sodas, a selection of snacks in bowls around the table, and some interesting-looking rolled cigarettes, which probably were not cigarettes at all, Steve guesses. Out of the sofa cushions, Eddie has constructed a high-walled nest over where they sat earlier. It's full of blankets and pillows from Eddie's RV. 

"Everything, ok? If you don't like anything, just say ok. Priority is making you feel better, not worse, by stressing you out, alright?" Eddie asks, placing his hand on Steve's lower back and guiding him around. 

"Yeah," Steve says quietly, looking into Eddie's soft sparkling eyes, "Perfect", he adds with a half-smile.

Steve goes to sit as they were earlier, and Eddie tuts, "No, nope. Scooch yourself forward there, honey." Steve does as asked and immediately finds himself draped in a soft, technicolour crochet blanket, and Eddie sits behind him, his legs on either side of him. He presses play on the movie. With the cushions stacked around them like sandbag walls, Steve feels like he sheds something, and though he feels vulnerable, he feels protected. He lets his whole weight fall back against Eddie, who immediately wraps his arms around him and kisses his temple.

Steve smiles to himself. He knows this place won’t last long. It was entirely too warm, but it felt so good.

"That's it, Sweetheart." Eddie runs one hand through Steve's hair and the other he keeps around his chest, pulling him close, keeping Steve completely enveloped. He should feel more on edge without his usual defences. His armour. The armour that is ready at a moment's notice because he's never without it. The set that helps keep everyone safe, but Steve has to shoulder the weight of it, and he's been wearing it for so long parts are so tough and rigid it can be uncomfortable. Causing unseen scars to wear their way into his very being. But Steve feels safe in this entirely different set of armour. It is soft and pliable, yet solid and sure. It has no weight and comes with no burden, and it fits him perfectly like it was made just for him. 

Because it was.

Because it's Eddie's love.

And sooner than he would like, he drifts off to sleep.

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Sometime later, he's woken by the answering machine's loud click and whirling. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he turns to find a completely flaked-out Eddie against the sofa. Head slumped back and mouth wide open. He decides not to move too much in case he wakes him.

"Please leave your message after the tone."

BEEEEEEEP

Then Steve hears the most high-pitched scream, and Eddie jolts awake, bumping into the back of him but instinctively wrapping Steve in his arms.

"Wh- who the…wha was that?" He mutters as Steve is about to stand up when the scream stops, and a familiar voice is heard.

"Oh. My. God! I can't fucking believe it. Are you guys serious? Like for real, for real? We have to meet up, we have to now!! We should… yeah, we should throw a party…right? Oh my god. Oh my god. Incredible news." Dustin yells excitably.

Eddie checks his watch, "It's fucking 2 in the fucking AM!!" He says through gritted teeth, "Stay here, babe. I'll be right back," he says as softly as he can, gets up, stalks to the phone and picks up the handset this time. "Listen here, you little shrimp!" He starts angrily, then silence. Steve, groggy and with eyes barely open, can’t help but peek around the cushion fort. "Well….thank you," Eddie says with a sweet bashful modesty, "Alright….yes! I'm aware," he says defensively, "Yeah, actually," he lets out a giggle and twirls the handset cord around his fingers, a big grin on his face, "Of course, I do....No, Dustin….Yes, of course, we were….Wow, didn't need that mental image….Yeah, I will….Uh-huh sure, tell ‘em, oh wait, little Wheeler is connected to Big Boss Wheeler, hold on….BABE? CAN DUSTIN TELL THE OTHER LITTLE SHRIMPS, OR DO YOU WANNA TELL ANYONE YOURSELF” Eddie yells, poking his head out of the kitchen. Steve waves him to continue. “No, you’re good….Yeah, man, love you too," he says sweetly. Then he clicks his fingers, "Oh, hold up, dude, I forgot something. DON'T CALL THIS HOUSE AT TWO FUCKING AM OR ANY SINGLE-DIGIT AM EVER AGAIN UNLESS IT IS A GODDAMN EMERGENCY!! GOODNIGHT!" he yells in his gremlin voice, slamming down the phone, jogs back to Steve, and just stands there looking at him for a while.

Steve rubs his eyes with a yawn, "He was just excited, honey. That's all" Steve raises his arms towards Eddie and waves him back towards the enclosure of soft furnishings.

"You know, sweetheart, you being so soft on those kids is precisely why he thought he could call you at 2am to explain he finally figured out we were together,"  Eddie says fondly, stepping slowly towards Steve.

"You love him too. I heard you." Steve smiles sleepily.

"Oh, so if you love him, he can just get away with whatever. Is that what you're saying, sweetheart?" Eddie asks with a smile.

"No, he was just excited, you know." Steve sleepily waves him over again, but Eddie raises a finger.

"Be right there, babe," he says before disappearing. Steve snuggles back up in his blanket and decides to fully lie down. 

A few moments later, he hears rapidly quickening footsteps, and the cushion wall to one side of him explodes with a manically smiling Eddie. Thankfully the layer of cushions that fell on Steve first softened the landing of Eddie on top of him.

"Eddie! What the hell, man?" Steve says, looking up at the enormous crazy smile on Eddie's face as he fidgets until his legs pin down Steve’s arms, “What are you doing?” Steve laughs.

“Writing my memoirs, of course!” Eddie’s eyes flash with that crazy look. He cracks his knuckles and wiggles his fingers in the air before focusing intensely on Steve’s chest and starts tapping on it lightly with his fingers. “Dearest Reader,” Eddie begins wistfully before raising a hand to the side of Steve’s face. He gently strokes his cheek before administering a slight sharp tap to it. “DING!” He says daintily.

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes, “Ok, ok, I get it.”

“You are my typewriter. You don’t talk.” Another light tap to his face “DING!” Eddie grins. “Double line spacing, babe,” Eddie's fingers start tapping away again, “Today has been quite the rollercoaster, I must say, but never the less a pleasurable ride, for today my escort was non-other than The Hair!” Eddie taps Steve’s face again. “DING! Oh, you know what? I might make a little space here for an illustration….DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!” A rapid succession of light, playful taps to Steve’s face.

“I know what you're trying to do. I’m not going to get annoyed” Steve is suddenly a lot more awake and deliberately defiant, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I am a father of two, Eddie.”

Eddie puffs up his cheeks and scrunches his nose in annoyance. His eyes narrow as he looks at Steve. He licks his thumb and wipes it across Steve’s forehead, “Simbaaaaaaaa,” he says. The wet saliva in the cool night air that Steve cannot wipe from his face is kind of annoying, but he’s been through worse. He blinks confidently up at Eddie with a slight smile.

Eddie leans back a little, taps his chin thoughtfully, and seems to have a Eureka moment, “Ok, this is your last chance. Just admit that there are things that people you love can do that are simply unforgivable, Steve, and this doesn't have to happen” Sure of himself and a little mischievous to best Eddie, Steve shakes his head in a no. Eddie lets out a dramatic sigh, “Ok, I guess you’re right, and it is like two in the morning. You win, Steve,” and Eddie lies down flat on the cushions on Steve, releasing his arms. He rests his chin on the pillow on Steve’s chest, “Party pooper,” he pouts, and as Steve motions to console his sore loser boyfriend, quick as a flash, Eddie's hand goes to the side of Steve’s head. Suddenly Steve feels a slight pain, and Eddie cackles loudly, pulling his fingers into Steve’s eye line. In between his fingers is one grey hair. Steve loses all composure.

“Eddie! If you pluck those things out, two grow in their place!” Steve clutches at the side of his head, and Eddie springs to his feet quickly to get out of reach of Steve. “After what you just did, you think you can outrun me?” Steve huffs as he struggles out from underneath a pile of soft furnishings, but all it does is make Eddies smile wider, and his nostrils flare.

“I know I can outrun you!” he boasts.

“We’ll see about that, you little shit!” Steve says as he tears after Eddie at full speed. Eddie yelps and runs into the other reception room, creating a standoff around a small coffee table. Eddie laughs wildly and makes a beeline for a door to the garden, and Steve chases after him in the darkness, hot on his heels, but he’s always just out of arm's reach. Suddenly Eddie stumbles down the other side of the hill by the basketball court, and Steve’s heart is in his mouth with worry, but as the garden security light flashes on, he can see he’s back on his feet, and then suddenly something occurs to Steve. He stops a little way back from Eddie, “You won. I got annoyed. Why are we running?” Steve asks, catching his breath, almost laughing himself. Eddie shrugs, looking at the floor and then looks back up at Steve through his lashes and sways from side to side a little. “You wanted me to chase you, didn't you?” Steve realises and folds his arms whilst Eddie tries to put on his most innocent face.

“A jock got mad near me, so I ran. Sue me. Then I remembered he’s my angry jock.” Eddie says with his hands at the small of his back as he kicks at the floor, a small smile reappearing on his face. “And he’s pretty handsome, you know? Even if he will end up with two grey hairs tomorrow. I’ll still find him handsome. Well, probably,” Eddie adds mischievously, and Steve is already running at him. Another hilarious noise of panic leaves Eddie as he tries to make it back to the house, but Steve cuts him off, and he has to double back and go further around. Then, with an audible plink, the security light goes out, and the area is plunged into darkness again. Eddie rounds the corner, and Steve can see him illuminated by the pool lights but keeps to the shadows. Eddie stops and looks uncertainly around, “Steve?” He whispers, a little worried. Steve waits a few seconds, “Ok, very funny, Steve! You can come out now,” he says. Steve pauses for another second for Eddie to face him, then charges to tackle him, sending them both flying into the pool with an almighty splash.

Steve pulls Eddie to the surface, and he gasps for air, “There’s my little drowned rat, nerdy guy,” Steve laughs, “Gotcha!” he says, pulling Eddie close to him.

“Oh no!” Eddie puts the back of his hand to his head dramatically, “Whatever shall I do? I’ve been captured by a handsome man in his heated pool.”

“Well, you could start with an apology, maybe?” Steve suggests.

“Oh, that’s a shame. But, you know, I’m not very good at those.” Eddie smirks, looking into Steve’s eyes.

“No?” Steve says quietly, caught in the tractor beams of Eddie's obsidian-looking eyes in the darkness, only highlighted by the reflection of the pool lights. 

Eddie shakes his head in a no, and his hands come up from the water to capture Steve’s face. “I am, however, very good at kissing things better,” Eddie says, his gaze dropping to Steve’s mouth.

Steve chuckles lightly, “I don’t think that’s where you did the damage, babe.”

“You don’t think so? Maybe we could start there? A process of elimination, maybe?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Steve mutters, wholly lost in his love, as Eddie drags him back under the water surface with a kiss.

#steddie #steddie fan fiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fan fic #steddiefanfiction #steddiefanfic #madaboutmunson #madaboutmunsonagain #eddie munson #steve harrington

[mmunson86]

TY for the tags my loves @boomhauer & @eddiesxangel 💗

bookstore au or fisherman au ♥ bartender au or spy au ♥ neighbour au or farm au ♥ wedding planner au or roommate au ♥ billionaire au or mob au ♥ western au or hospital au ♥ rockstar au or bodyguard au ♥ office/coworker au or firefighter au ♥ lumberjack au or deserted island au ♥ fantasy au or soulmates au ♥ modern au or historical au ♥ sex worker au or a/b/o au ♥ bakery au or academic au ♥ pirate au or babysitter au ♥ camp counselor au or werewolf au ♥ coffee shop au or flower shop au ♥ apocalypse au or treasure hunter au ♥ tattoo artist au or single parent au ♥ royalty au or vampire au

No pressure tags💗 : @abibliophobiaa @andvys @bvtbxtch @bettyfrommars @bangaveragewhitewine @blairrwaldorfs @corrodedseraphine @impmunson @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiemunsons80sbaby @eddies-house @eddieschains @emmyshortcake @eddiethefreakkmunson @figmentofquinn @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @xxbimbobunnyxx @keeksandgigz @lesservillain @lokis-army-77 @lofaewrites @munsonology @m0llygunn @madelynraemunson @munsonsbtch @munson-mjstan @purplehazed-h @trashmouth-richie @taintedcigs @succubusmunson @songforeddiemunson @strangemagicc @str4ngergirlw0rld @the-unforgivenn

[steviewashere]

Want to Go Home With You (Bring Me a Home)

Rating: Teen and Up (May Change With Future Chapters) CW: None, at least for now Tags: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Took Canon Out Back And Pulled an Old Yeller, Mer!Steve Harrington, Fisherman!Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Confused Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Wants to be Loved, Mermaids with Animal Like Instincts, Future Propositioning, Lowkey Might Involve Some Omegaverse Aspects in the Future (Not Sorry)

This is chapter one of ????. Also this takes place in Oregon because that's what I know and the idea of a merman living in an Indiana lake-beach is odd to me. So...bear with me. This is my first like actual alternate universe, completely separate from Stranger Things, so be nice.

Also, I've written Steve here as a merman who's had no contacts with humans—his English is choppy and his understanding of basic human communication is weird. If that's a turn-off for you, turn back now.

Read Part Two Here

Can also be read on AO3

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ Fishing wasn’t the ideal career to be going into after high school, but Eddie had to do something while he waited for his dreams to kickstart. Granted, going into this business was easy because his uncle owned the local bait shack. But it didn’t make the job any more appealing in the end. Not even the many beaches he had the chance to truck out to. There was Cannon Beach and Seaside’s, but he stayed close to home in Newport’s.

The beach wasn’t anything super spectacular. Sure, there were parts of it inhabited by the native seal population, some of the areas overloaded with crab shells. And it was damn near majestic during the summertime. Eddie, however, didn’t see the gist of spending time there, though. Maybe it had to do with how every single one of his work days would go, the hours spent sitting in the serene stretches of water. But nothing was intriguing or worthwhile about spending his time there.

That is, until one particular early summer day.

June isn’t a busy summer month for Eddie and his uncle. It was the right temperature, but there was still the risk of storms. Heavy duty kind of storms. Business didn’t stop, though. He woke up at 5:30am, when the sun was still acclimating to the baby blue sky, and readied himself in coveralls, thick and tall rubber boots, and a bucket hat that protected his lopsided mop of curls. His hair remained back in a bun and his skin was doused with paste-like sunscreen. In one hand he carried a red fishing rod and in the other, an old black lunchbox transformed for tackle.

He went out to the docks. To the few run down boats. And climbed aboard his uncle’s tried and true, S.S. Lenore—a tiny thing, made for up to four people, overrun with nets and crusted muddy footprints, and equipped with a singular cooler. The engine always took a few pulls to start up, jostling and crunching like food run through a garbage disposal, but it did the trick. And then he was off.

Eddie always took the chance to float out for a handful of minutes. Sometimes fifteen. Sometimes ten. Set himself up stagnant in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nobody, with no chance in hell he’ll be interrupted. Today he just needed to get a cooler full of trout. Rainbow trout, to be more exact. They’re easy fish to gut and debone, good for baking in the oven, and stuffing full of herbs for marinated fish stew. He’d gone out previously to hoist in mackerels and herrings. This was the last trip he’d need to take for a good two weeks, but he was going to do a damn great amount of work for it.

“This should be good,” he mumbles to himself, just barely breeching the edge of his boat. The ocean underneath him moves in subtle pushes, rocking him lightly against itself. Its color is bright and shining—bluer, somehow, than the last time he visited just a few days ago. He can see schools of trout idling underneath the sheen of the water. And so he rigs one of his nets, tosses it over the side of his boat, and slowly sinks it into the water.

And he waits.

It isn’t until half past when he came out that the net begins to rustle. Tugging and splashing, but it doesn’t settle the way it does when it’s some regular trout. No, this threatens to topple Eddie straight into the cold depths of the water below. To sink his boat and turn it over of all its resources.

He grips to the ropes holding the damned thing up. Pulling at it hard enough to give him the starts of burns on his soft palms. And he heaves. Groaning with it. Panting unrelenting in the face of this thing trapped inside his net. Whatever he caught is surely not some common fish for his soup, this is something more—maybe even more dangerous. And he hadn’t thought to bring anything with him to ward off danger.

There had been one time where a shark got caught. Eddie happened to have a knife on him that time. He gave in, cut the ropes on the net, and let it free—which cost him the equipment, but luckily saved his life.

This is a time where having that knife would be spectacular. But as he hefts the net, he realizes that this creature caught is no ordinary thing. It’s not a shark. Not a seal. Not a school of fish. However, through the floundering waves around him, he catches on a fish-esque glimmer. Scales of some sort shifting with the catch of light breaking through.

He wrestles with the net for a few minutes more before eventually getting a good enough grasp to tie it down. Pulling up the rest with his hands, he’s met face to…tail with this creature. It has scales—pearl white and baby pink and pastel yellows—they shine iridescent in the high rise of sunlight. The end of the tail sports two fins, both of them crescent shaped, thicker towards the base of the tail, and spindly where it faces Eddie. Before he can stop himself, he’s poking at the scales, where they taper into absence at the creature’s fins. It’s then that the creature really notices him.

In one fell motion, grand and heaving, the boat rocks. Teetering into flipping. The creature turns its head to him and…hisses. Like the guttural bubbling hiss of a harbor seal. It rocks in the net again, as it lunges towards Eddie.

Immediately, Eddie pulls his hands away and steps as far back as the boat will allow him. Granted, it’s only four feet in width, but that puts space between him and this thing. The thing that he calculates slowly with his eyes. Tail—yeah, he already knew about that. But then he rakes up to the torso of the fish like creature, where his tail is ombre with the glistening, golden skin of a nude torso.

“That—That isn’t right,” Eddie finds himself stuttering, surveying the torso once again. Sure enough, there’s skin. Dotted with moles and freckles. Dark brunette chest hair that could almost be mistaken as black. Toned arms and big, veiny hands. At the ends of this creature’s fingertips are short, curved towards the palms, white claws. Gills where its ribs are. And then Eddie goes to its head. Square-ish jaw, more freckles and moles, smile lines and baby crows feet. Thick eyebrows, triangular nose with a bridge that angles slightly to the left. Ears that threaten to point at the tops. Brunette hair that swoops to the right, falls to its collarbones, wavy and stringy with saltwater.

And its eyes.

Human eyes. Hazel, glowing honey in the sun. Long eyelashes. Drooping eyelids. Pupils that are pinpoint small, dilating with every hiss that leaves the creature’s throat.

A mermaid.

Eddie Munson is looking at a fucking mermaid.

Or…merman? It doesn’t have the seashell bra like all the mermaids he’s heard tales about, but maybe that’s just fable. He’s played all kinds of fantasy games, but he never thought what he described would be looking at him. Wild eyes and baby shark-like teeth, though without the second row. Hissing.

It struggles in the net again, lunging. Wrapping its hands on the edge of Eddie’s boat, squeezing at the metal material. The force of this merman’s grip enough to cause the edge to creak. Eddie’s stomach drops.

“Woah! Alright, okay!” He exclaims, hands up and placating. Briefly, he wonders if it has a good sense of smell and hearing. Like it can scent the excretion of his sweat even in the cold air. Or how his heart beats like the galloping of a race horse. “Easy! I ain’t—I’ve got no reason to hurt you!”

It seems to know what he’s saying, as it relaxes in the net for the first time. But it shoots him a pitiful, pleading look. Petulantly whining at him, though the sound is gargled.

Eddie wipes his sweating palms on his coveralls and takes a tentative step forward. “Easy,” he murmurs, “I’ll free you, but you have to stay calm.”

But the merman shakes its head. “No,” it croaks, “No free.”

Okay, so the guy speaks. It knows English. Even as choppy and awkward as it sounds.

“No free?” Eddie questions, “You don’t want me to free you?”

It shakes its head again. Whines, gargling again in the back of its throat. Its hands grip to the boat again, this time lugging some of its weight. As if it’s trying to…climb in.

Eddie startles back once more. “Hey, no,” he barks, “no climbing in. You can’t come onto my boat.” Though he wants to take it all back the moment he locks eyes again. If it didn’t have scales and gills, Eddie would almost think it was a sad puppy hybrid. He can almost imagine the droopy tail paired with the glistening, fearful, and pleading eyes. “Why shouldn’t I free you? My boat isn’t your home and I can’t take you back with me. You belong in the water.”

“Home,” the merman echoes, croaking. “Your home…warm?”

“Uh—“ What the fuck, he can’t help but think, exasperated. “—uh, sure. Home is warm. My, uh, home is warm. I live by the sand with my uncle, selling worms and cooking fish. The sun hits my skin every morning.” He doesn’t know why he’s answering the guy, but something in its stare, the broken words—Eddie’s allured. “Can you please answer my question? I’d like to go home. So, why shouldn’t I free you?”

The merman points a clawed finger at itself. “My home not warm. Cold.” Eddie nods along because—of course, duh, the ocean is cold. But it murmurs, “Love.” And now Eddie’s confused all over again.

“Love?”

Its voice is soft and sweet, curious. “You have love?”

Eddie shouldn’t be indulging this. He shouldn’t. But maybe the merman is a siren with how he’s drawn to answer. “I don’t have a partner, if that’s what you’re asking. But my uncle loves me. And I love him. That’s—I have love like that.”

It nods like it understands. Looks away over its shoulder, to the cold, salty water. And visibly shudders before facing Eddie again. “No love,” it says, pointing at itself again. “I no have love. No warm.” It tries to climb in again, even as Eddie’s moving to pry its hands away, but it holds tight and hisses again. “Want warm. Go with. Want to go. Go now,” it demands in a low timber.

And even as pretty as this merman is, Eddie has to refuse. He shakes his head softly. Gently, he says, “You can’t. I—I don’t know you. And…I don’t have an ocean in my house. You’ll die if you come with me.”

“Steven,” it mutters.

What? “What.”

“Know me—Steven,” it says. “Know you? Name?”

Tentatively, Eddie relaxes again. Realizes that this won’t be an end all conversation. “My name is Eddie. It’s short for Edward,” he answers, “but I like Eddie more.”

It hums, observing. “Eh-die,” it sounds out. “Eddie,” it whispers. Without warning, it trills at him. High pitched, chirping and bubbling from the back of its throat. Smiling with the sound, squinting its pretty honey eyes. Something in Eddie stirs. “Like that,” it chirps. “Short and easy. I want.”

“You want a short and easy name, too?” Eddie clarifies. It nods at him, squeaking an affirmative thing. “How about…Hm, what’s a good name for Steven?” He ponders as the merman continues to look on at him, eyes bright and curious. “How about Steve? Is that good enough for you?”

“Steve!” It crows. Trilling again, higher pitched than the last, squirming again in the net, closer and closer to heaving itself into the boat. “Easy, easy, easy,” it says at him.

Eddie can’t help but chuckle. “So…Steve, am I able to call you a he? Like…His name is Steve?”

He nods at Eddie. Wriggling again as if he can’t contain his excitement.

“Well, now I know you, huh? It’s a shame I still can’t take you to my home.”

And now Steve frowns, eyes saddening again. “But…My home is cold. You have warm,” he says solemnly.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, “but I don’t have space for you, Steve. Your home is in the water. If I take you out of the water for too long, you’ll die. You need the water.”

“I will see you again?”

Eddie shrugs. “If you see my boat again, you can visit me. How about that? And…what’s special about that, is that I can bring you things that aren’t in the ocean.”

“Man’s stuff?”

Befuddled, Eddie asks, “What are man’s stuff?”

“Stuff I see from up here. From Eddie’s home,” Steve answers. “I find and I keep and I hide. Nobody knows. Just Eddie. Eddie is nice, though. You make me happy.”

Humming, Eddie assesses Steve again. Smiles softly. “You’re nice, too, Steve. Even though you scared me earlier. But you were scared, too, huh? Caught in my stupid net.” He takes a careful step closer, standing over where Steve rests in the net still. He places a hand on one of Steve’s, tentatively, but purposefully. “But if you see my boat again, you can come visit. Maybe next time I’ll bring some fish soup? Do you eat fish?”

“Fish are tasty,” Steve says as a response.

Eddie chuckles again. “Okay, Steve. I’ll bring you fish soup. Tomorrow, though. I have to free you and go home, okay?” He reaches down for the ropes that he tied down earlier. Tugs on one of the knots and frees one side. Steve yelps.

“Promise you come back?” Steve meekly asks.

“Promise,” Eddie murmurs intensely, unraveling the last of the rope. “Look for Lenore. She’ll bring you back to me.”

🧜‍♂️—————🧜‍♂️ If you'd like to be tagged in future updates, let me know. Taglist for this is open <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #mer!steve harrington #fisherman!eddie munson #hurt/comfort

[little-annie]

Any advice on how to make this look more like Eddie? His hair is such a huge part of his look and with it being wet, I feel like I kinda loose some of his personality. HELP!

#eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie fandom #steve harrington #eddie x steve #eddie munson is a mermaid #steve Harrington is a fisherman #steddiefanart #mermay #mermay steddie #steddie

[freakfangstm]

Valerie Ashburn sighed as she aimed the flashlight into the umpteenth thicket for the last hour, looking for the stray cat mama with a litter that had been seen around here. The nights were still cold and the people that had spotted the cat thought she was injured. She and her babies would most likely die if they didn't found them and brought them into the shelter.

Which was the only reason Valerie was out here, in the woods alone with only a flashlight, especially after all that had recently happened in Hawkins. Only an injured animal could outweigh the creepy feeling of terror and danger lurking inside the forest. Not to mention this area was where they had found one of the bodies, Fred Benson. The whole town was convinced that Eddie Munson was the killer, except for his friends. Valerie had her doubts, mostly because it didn't fit in with the image she had of Eddie back when they were in school together. Despite all the shit the jocks and their little goons had thrown at Eddie and his friends, she had never seen him get violent. Sassy for sure, and with an ability to walk all over each and every jocks nerves - which she had found quite amusing, to be honest - but he had never attacked anyone or instigated a physical fight. She just couldn't see him enjoy hurting someone like how the victims had been hurt.

She shook her head, trying to focus. Eddie Munson wasn't her concern at the moment. He had disappeared, or most likely died in the earthquake which had turned Hawkins into something out of Dante's Inferno and she needed to get a grip and find a cat.

"Here, kitty, kitty," she tried again.

It hurt, everything. His bones felt like they where made of sharp glass that stabbed into his muscles and nerves when he dared lift his limbs. He had remembered dying. Dustin was there. The bats had been killed, so that had to mean Vecna was dead. Eddie felt like he was floating, like his body wasn’t his. Somehow. His brain felt like it was filling with water, a painful pressure built itself into his skull. Clogging his ears and Eddie clenched his jaw. Though it didn’t compare to the pain in his stomach. A thirst in his throat that made his tongue curl.

There was a sound, it came from a few feet. A sickly snapping noise, a heavy weight thudding the forest floor a few feet away from the woman. It's followed by a gasping sound and low hissing. A crouched being sat crouch on all fours, digging its fangs into a cat that it had caught silently. The poor animal hadn’t even had the chance to yowl out when sharp claws snapped her neck. The person wore a greenish fisherman's jacket, bandana tight around his head. Dark jeans, dirty with a odd bullet belt. His or her hair was long and curly. But it was now a mess, with twigs and a odd ash stuck to the curls.

Eddie pauses his feeding when a light flashes by his arm and the brunette peers ove. Their eyes lock and his are wide, all blood shot, with red pupils blown. Looking like a deer caught in headlights. His lips, chin, now and mouth covered in blood, iris’s glowing in the darkness like an animal. Eddie drops the dead feline and backs up with a hiss, eyes angry and tense.

It was so dark. He couldn’t move. Where was he? Why did he smell blood? It's irony tang was staining the tip of his tongue. Make it stop. The pain was dulling to an annoying ache. And he closes his eyes.

Suddenly Eddie groans painfully and slumps to the ground. Seemingly unconscious. Well, least you found the kitty.. But you also found something else.

#a thread where eddie first comes back from the dead ?? #hell ye #text #queue :: afterhours 🎸

[thefvrious]

added new muses to the muse page, lmk if you want a thread with one of them!

Eddie Munson – Joseph Quinn -- musician

Denver Loubriel – Joseph Quinn – crime scene cleaner

Remington Arnoult – Jamie Campbell Bower -- scientist

Francisco Abernathy – Clayton Cardenas – dog rescue owner/operator

Cesar Castillo – Oscar Isaac – owner of oddities & bookshop

Gordon Hamilton III – Dominic Sherwood -- lawyer

Neve Walker – Megan thee Stallion – cosmetologist

Soledad Bravo – Roberta Colindrez – baseball player

Mitzy Kirkpatrick – Mia Goth -- dancer

Robin Bell – Ben Hardy – personal trainer

Quinn Peters – Yvie Oddly – gas station attendant/drag queen

Spencer Sullivan – Ryan Ashley – tattoo artist

Michelle “Micki” Martin – Kirby Howell-Baptiste – financial advisor/witch

Valentina Silva – Barbara Ferreira -- model

Libby Whitlock – Danielle Campbell -- artist

Cristobal Rodriguez – Edgar Ramirez – sociology professor

Janessa Spade – Alexa Demie -- actress

Zachary Levine – Dominic Fike – tattoo artist

Damien Briggs – Yahya Abdul-Mateen II -- pediatrician

Cameron Thatcher – O’Shea Jackson Jr. -- pharmacist

Giana Bianchi – Natasha Liu Bordizzo -- grifter

Benz Lawson – Chai Henson -- fisherman

Cassidy Clarke – Taika Waititi – tattoo artist

Drew Marley – Jessica Henwick -- mutant

Genevieve St. James – Josefine Frida Pettersen -- student

Jesse Driscoll – Hermann Tommeraas – phd student

Bodhi Aguilar – Aron Piper – rapper/actor

Gillian Cromwell – Lisa Teige -- bartender

Neo Madison – Park Solomon -- student

#muses added #muses

[fastlikealambo]

the mermaid & the lighthouse. ||older!eddie x black mermaid! reader

summary: widowed father eddie munson is an experienced fisherman and down on his luck operator of one of the last barely functional lighthouses in america.

hawkins, a crumbling fishing village off the coast of maine, is slowly but surely being sold off and an oil spill by the carver oil company the previous year has all but sealed hawkins' fate to be purged of the locals and turned into a resort.

it's in the cards for eddie to sell his boat, pack up his daughter, and give into jason carver's cash offer to turn the lighthouse into a vacation home.

that all changes when a mysterious woman washes up on the rocks, an unearthly being that will change his fate and the fate of his home forever.

unlike my other AUs, this one will be a multi chapter fic with hcs thrown in for fun! eddie munson is in his late forties and our mermaid reader physically appears and is mentally in her mid twenties. also, there will be a lot of mermaid lore mixing here so if you see something and want to correct me all I can say is sir, this is a long john silvers.

I hope you like this and if you have any hc requests for this au, I'm open!

should I have waited until the poll was over? yes. am I a sad woman with unlimited access to pinterest and depression? yes.

#eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x black!reader #mermaid!reader #eddie munson fanfic #the mermaid and the lighthouse au

[steviewashere]

MER STEVE MER STEVE MER STEVE

(please and thank you 😊)

You got it, homie! We love Mer Steve in this house.

I'm getting weird with this one, so...be warned.

——— The boat begins to rock back and forth. Enough to fear toppling over. Eddie grips to something nearby, the leg of his bench, and white knuckles through another churn of surprise. He hears Steve before he really sees him. Thumping of—what must be—his magnificent tail. The wet slap of his palms against the boat. His exerted panting as he wriggles himself closer and closer. Until, without warning, his entire body eclipses over Eddie. Big, gorgeous, wet eyes blinking down at him—crinkled because Steve’s smiling something dopey. He’s chirping in the back of his throat, all the more excited.

Before he can get the words out to tell Steve to go away, to get back in the water, to remind him again that he can’t come home with him—Steve’s mouth opens. “I have surprise,” he repeats. “You will like it. Something for Eddie!” And without much else of a warning, Steve unhinges his jaw just a little wider. His throat works as if he’s about to cough up a hairball, and for a very dire and very serious moment Eddie believes that to be the case. But instead, what comes flying from Steve’s mouth, is an oblong off-white pearl. Just like the one from days prior. Hitting him square in the eye.

He can't acknowledge the minor ache through his eyeball. Not with whatever science supernatural bullshit just happened. “What the—“ Eddie whispers, the beginning of a startled question.

“I kissed oyster,” Steve explains as if that makes everything suddenly make a drop of sense. “And now I make pearls,” he giddily and loudly whispers.

“Steve, you—I can’t—What?”

“What if I kiss Eddie?” Steve asks aloud.

——— <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #mer!steve harrington #fisherman!eddie munson #my asks