Eddie Munson - Blog Posts

Hello stranger things fans :)) ily all

I need Eddie to come back as a vampire and for him to have a Hyper fixation on Steves blood. Like that needs to happen right now, like he needs to be a slut for Steves blood that hoe need to hurt himself to keep from killing Steve, like just the smell of Steve turns that mother fucker on he gets so much pleasure from just being in the same room as Steve. He loves to bask in Steves scent it gets him high (his own personal heroin if you like). The others are like wtf but Steve just rolls with it because he’s in love with Eddie and would do anything for him.

Masterlist

Hawkins 68.8

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader

Word Count: 15.9k

Content: Fluff

Summary: When Eddie Munson starts paying attention to the host of Hawkins best radio station, he finds himself transfixed with a mystery. Who is Radio Girl?

**Hiya! I have an idea for a really heartbreaking epilogue to this little one shot. Let me know if you're interested! I hope to have more stuff coming out soon.**

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"HEY THERE HAWKINS! Boys and girls, ladies and gents, preppy snobs and the rest of you normal folk, it's a lovely 30 degrees on this Manic Monday morning. So, I suggest a sweater or jacket unless you're expecting help from that 'special' someone. If you're hoping to be late for work or school, take Addams Ave. Seems a log truck has tipped over, or maybe God's playing Lincoln Logs. Either way, a great way to waste forty-five minutes on your morning drive. Well, that's all the news for this sleepy town at the top of the hour. It's 6am, March 3rd guys. This has been your best friend, nagging mother, annoying little sister, girl in the hall, fantasy mystery girl starting off your morn by opening your mind. Let's get back to the music! Here's Van Halen..."

Thundering drums shook the floor of the trailer. The vibration was enough to start lulling him back to sleep. Crashing symbols finally jerked the boy fully awake, half scaring him to death. Eddie was surprised to find it more appealing than his usual wake up call from his Uncle. One thing was sure, his blood was pumping now. He found himself humming along as he got around for school. The older man was making breakfast, both looking tired from his late shift and pleased thanks to the radio.

"This station is alright," Wayne noted, turning the music down now that Eddie was awake. That was high praise from the man.

"Better than what you usually wake me up with," Eddie chuckled and listened, fully amused, as his Uncle grumbled about how disappointing it was that no one listened to Johnny Cash anymore. They shuffled around one another in a familiar rhythm. Plates were filled with eggs and toast. Coffee was poured. Songs began to switch in the background, never something Eddie recognized but not overall terrible. Better than anything the other radio stations around Hawkins played.

"I like the girl," Wayne commented when his plate was finally clean.

"What girl?"

"The one who hosts the show. C'mon Ed, you're smarter than that."

Eddie sighed, pushing the food around on his plate. "Oh. I always tune out the announcers. It's not like anything they say will matter for me."

"Well that's a load of bull. I know you don't exactly like it here, but maybe there are some things worth hearing about." Wayne was always trying to get Eddie out into the town. Eddie assumed it was because his Uncle wanted him to get a job or a life outside of his interests. It never occurred to him that Wayne might want his nephew to be seen as the good kid he actually was. But before Eddie could argue, Wayne was turning up the volume once more.

"That was Burning Down The House, Talking Heads. This short little break is to remind folks that Cookie Season is almost over! Only a few more weeks left to order those tantalizing, hip widening, good for the soul, Girl Scout Cookies. Hawkins Troop 815 will be down by Bradley's Big Buy from 4 to 5pm, Monday through Thursday. Ring the station for more direct information and help those girls get to summer camp!

And of course we can not forget that Spring Break is on the way. Hawkins YMCA, in conjunction with the Public Pool, are hosting free swimming lessons for kids four to eight. Jerry and Gina want to thank all the listeners who got out and donated to make this opportunity possible.

Last thing gang, Hawkins High and Middle School will be  doing a book drive starting at the end of March. They want to get the word out to you fine people early to put it on your calendars! All books will be split between the Elementary, Middle, and High School. Get some forgotten books into the hands of an excited kid. We're taking everything from textbooks to comic books, so get to boxing!

That's enough of me. Thanks so much for this special request song, may it remind you of your dwarvish homeland while on adventures dear Nog."

So many things surprised Eddie that he wasn't sure what to latch onto. For one, his uncle was smiling a great deal. Two, the radio announcer was a girl. Three, she'd just mentioned Dustin Henderson's Dungeons and Dragons character as the person who sent in a special request. And four, Dio was playing on the radio. Rainbow in the Dark. So many thoughts raced through his head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He didn't have a lot of time to ruminate on things before his uncle was lecturing him again.

"Like that girl. See son, you've got so many things goin' on that you can take advantage of. Sure they'll need help at that book thing that's coming up. You like to read. Could be a good time."

"Not sure they'll like havin' me. My grimey fingers getting all over the books," Eddie sighed, pushing away his plate. His mind was still on overdrive about the announcer.

"Never know 'til ya ask. Plus you could learn a few things from that show. This morning, right when I was getting off work, there was a whole talking section about the detriment of societal structures. Something about how school popularity contests are taking away from the real purpose of group education. Didn't mean a ton to me, but sounded like something you'd agree with." With that, Wayne ruffled the boy's mop of hair and drug himself to the couch to sleep.

For a moment, Eddie sat perplexed at the small kitchen table. The music surrounded him, comfortable and familiar. His foot absentmindedly tapped along while his thoughts raced out ahead of him. He didn't think any girl at Hawkins High would openly defy the popularity caste system. And she had to be a student, she knew Henderson. The only person that kid knew outside of the school was Steve Harrington. Eddie was lucky that the radio volume was still up, or else he would've stayed locked in his thoughts when the most important announcement was given.

"Alright people, coming up is our non-stop hour of rock. You know what that means! It's 7am. See you all on the other side."

If it wasn't for that, Eddie definitely would have been late for school.

***

"Phew. Right, okay. Set the cassettes in the player... timer on for automatic switch over..." You felt the sting of stress in your forehead as you concentrated on the machines. Though you'd set this up over a hundred times at this point, the process always offered a heavy wave of anxiety. Even the thought of dead air was something you couldn't allow; it had happened once and the police had been called - someone thought you were having some emergency. Luckily the old sheriff didn't hold it against you. Even more luckily, Mr.Clark had done all the talking and you didn't have to face the terrifying prospect of directly communicating with anyone new.

"All set?" The teacher poked his head in the door.

"All set."

"Good because you'll have to book it," The man swung open the AV room, more like closet, door and waved a frantic hand.

You followed his prompting, throwing your bag over your shoulder and rushing down the hall.

"Thanks Mr.C!" The call over your shoulder stopped him by the side door, him needing to head back across the parking lot to the middle school.

He gave a wave, accompanied by a reminder, "Don't forget Kaminsky is helping you lock up today!"

A brief nod was all the response you had time for. The crowds had already thinned, allowing for faster travel in the hallways. By the time the bell rang, you were non-discriptly slipping into your seat. Incessant chatter rattled around the classroom. It was easy to let the white noise lull your sleep deprived body. A sudden rapping on your desk brought you back to reality. Ahead of you, a stern looking older man was forcing together fluffy gray eyebrows. The look was harsh, but the words he muttered were layered with a kinder tone.

"Take a nap in study hall y/l/n, not my class."

"Sorry Mr. Kaminsky," Your hands brushed through your hair as you gave a sheepish smile. The tiniest relaxation of his brow confirmed he wasn't truly upset.

Conversations dwindled to hushed whispers as the man took command of the room. Cool sunlight flushed the blackboard, chilly air penetrated the window panes and seeped through your clothes. Now shivering and scribbling pencils accompanied the rhythm of murmurs around you. Staring at your own notes, you couldn't help but focus in on the gossip around you over the repeat introduction of Newton's laws.

"I couldn't believe it! That freak took up the whole lesson yesterday asking questions about ... I don't even remember... like narration something? ...Basically how a book should like, be structured to make sense. We spent the whole lesson! Like, excuse me psycho, but some of us want to just get the answers for the test and move on."

"Ugh. If that devil worshiper thinks anyone's gonna care about some freak story he comes up with - he's even crazier than he acts."

"Bet it'd be some like, horror thing. Like a sacrifice manual."

The conversation dissolved into cruel snickers. Your expression had tightened, frustration building in your chest. Still, the lack of sleep had left your mind unprepared to hold back your sharpened tongue. "Yes, because having a genuine academic interest in something must be a mark of the beast. Everyone knows shopping is close to godliness."

"What?" The girl behind you shrieked. Your pencil ripped a gash across the page, eyes widening a fraction and jaw clenching closed. You held your breath and silently gave thanks for Mr.Kaminsky handling his classroom.

"Miss Charmichael! Is there something confusing about Newton's Laws of Motion?" The old man's tone was just as harsh and biting as your own. You had to bite your lip harshly to keep from laughing.

"N-no! Y/l/n said something and-"

"Has anyone here ever heard Miss y/l/n speak out of turn?"

Suddenly your face was burning. It seemed particularly cruel of the teacher to embarrass you whilst dealing with the bratty girl behind you. But, you guessed it was fair - seeing as you had been talking during the class. The classroom was uncomfortably quiet under the hawk-like eye of Kaminsky. However, he actually seemed to want an answer this time, refusing to move on with the lesson while his question was unfulfilled. Truthfully, you were close to confessing just to get out of the discomfort.

Then someone came to the rescue.

"Y/l/n talk in class? Never."

You couldn't help but crane your head around, glancing past the obnoxious girls behind you to the lab table beside them. There, sharing a mischievous smile, was none other than the 'freak' Charmichael was talking about: Eddie Munson.

He locked eyes with you for a second. An incredibly brief flash of a softer, yet guarded look passed over his features. You quickly turned back to face your desk. The last thing you wanted was any more attention.

"First question you've answered in my class Mr.Munson, and correctly too. May this nice turn of events continue." Kaminsky nodded and returned to the lesson.

Your notes, however, were no longer focused on the laws of motion. Instead, a new radio discussion was taking shape on the page.

***

Eddie's day was starting off better than he'd expected. Good music thanks to his Uncle and this new Hawkins radio station, having y/l/n stick up for him before class could even begin, and the mystery of this radio jockey to keep his mind occupied. Y/l/n had quickly evaded him when he tried to say thank you. The poor girl's face went white. Her grip on a particularly thick collection of Poe stories tightened. She offered only a hasty nod before disappearing down the hall. Her doe eyed expression had brightened his smile even more. He couldn’t help it, she was positively adorable. Eddie hoped he hadn't scared her.

His thoughts didn't linger there much longer as a curly headed fiend dropped into his seat. The cafeteria was crowded and loud, but Eddie was too focused to let anything other than the mystery take hold of him. Dustin Henderson had the answer to his question and he was going to get it out of him no matter what.

"Man, everyone is so testy today. I kid you not! Mrs.Click is totally out to get us. I dropped my pencil and she chewed my head off. I -" Dustin rapidly rambled, organizing his lunch before cutting himself off with a large bite.

"Great. Who's the radio girl?"

Dustin nearly choked. Mike stiffened, shooting a look at Lucas before shoving his own lunch in his mouth. Apparently having a full mouth was the first safe guard to not answering Eddie's question.

"Who are you talking about?" Lucas gave a lackluster performance.

"Well I'm not sure, that's why I asked. Woke up this morning to an energetic voice giving out a special request song to Nog. Figured that few people knew of that guy, so you have to know her. Right Dustin?" Eddie kept eyeing the boy, leaning forward to help increase the pressure.

"I- uh, psh, I dunno what you're talking about. Eddie, man, dude, there's no way I know about someone you don't know about."

"Wow. That was crap." Mike's voice was deadpan.

Dustin, immediately, fought back, "Thanks Mike! You're really helping out here. Think you could do more than sit on your ass? Party sticks together man. Coulda backed me up!"

The two boys began bickering animatedly. Eddie sighed, shaking his head before ultimately intervening.

"That's enough. I don't care who tells me. I just want to know how you three losers know this radio girl."

Lucas, Mike, and Dustin shared looks of concern. Then, their shoulders slumped in and Eddie knew he'd won.

"We know her from AV club," Mike answered slowly.

"You're in another club?" This took Eddie off track for a moment.

The boys nodded. Mike continued, "We did it mostly in middle school. But y-... our friend, she was the only member for years so she came over and helped us out when Mr.Clark started it up again."

Before Eddie could ask his next question, Lucas was already answering it. "We can't tell you who she is, man. She's like, really really shy. Even though she's older than us, she was terrified the first time we met her."

"Seriously. She's great, awesome, stupid smart, but meeting you would probably kill her." Dustin shook his head.

"Are we talking about the same person? The one who apparently gives radio shows calling out how dumb popularity is and plays decent music? She's shy?"

"Deathly dude. Why do you think she runs a radio show?" Dustin looked at Eddie as if he'd just cheered over a nat one.

Lucas continued to flex his emotional maturity, calmly and clearly stating the situation. "She has a hard time talking in front of people. That was why she joined AV club in the first place. It's a lot easier for her to communicate over the phone or walkie. Somehow it got her excited enough to start the show. We give her requests and she uses our D&D names so no one knows it's her."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so you can't just go asking around and trying to figure it out, okay? It's like a big deal. She'd totally be hounded every day. No one can know. And dude, imagine being absolutely terrified of talking to people and then loud mouth of the school Eddie Munson shows up trying to talk to you. It'd scare you to death." Mike interjected.

"I'm not a loud mouth!"

"Eccentric then," Dustin rolled his eyes.

"You do realize this makes me want to figure it out more, right?" Eddie sighed, clearly frustrated by his friends.

"You can either track her down and cause her to panic, or you can leave her alone and keep the best radio station in Hawkins going. That's up to you man," Dustin shoved a finger into Eddie's shoulder.

Their table sat in an awkward silence for a moment, no one quite sure what to say after the freshman had dressed down their fearless leader. Everyone seemed lost in thought.

"I'll leave it alone... for now," Eddie relented. "I'd never want to scare anyone."

"You're not scary!" Dustin squealed, now overcome with guilt from playing into the rest of the school's view of him.

"We just mean, like you're an excitable guy and talk loud and that would totally make her feel insanely shy." Lucas explained.

"Let's- let's listen! The show's on now!" Mike suggested.

"How? It's lunch?"

All the boys smiled softly and shrugged at Eddie. It was clear they enjoyed holding some information over their dungeon master.

"She's just that good," Dustin beamed.

***

"Today's Lunchtime Layout is an offshoot of the Five AM Free Meeting. We're continuing to look into the current state of education. Parents and teachers alike are in an uproar over the low testing scores. If you're looking for a way to bolster education, here's your sign. Lunchtime Layout proudly presents... How Music and Art helps your kids more than Sports -"

You heard your voice switch off from one of the tables as you passed by. Focusing on the surprisingly decent lunch on your tray allowed you to hide the smile that crept onto your lips. It was funny to see the athletes pissed off. They were too stupid to understand that almost none of them could score a scholarship with just their atheletic performance, which just proved your Lunchtime Layout even more. Still, somewhere in the cacophony of voices, your own could still be heard. At least someone thought you were still worth listening to.

Clattering your tray next to Robin, a girl from your band class, you let yourself be content in her conversation. Robin could always talk enough for the both of you - it's part of what made her a good friend.

"D'you think that Kaminsky is an alien? I wouldn't be surprised. The way he runs things feels so foreign, weird. I swear I heard him speaking another language the other day. Just out of the blue! Like he forgot English. That's some alien crap, right?"

You chuckled, as always finding Robin amusing. "It's Polish. His family's from Poland, they escaped to America because of World War II. Thought you would recognize it since you supposedly speak Russian."

"Okay we'll circle back to that in a minute because you just said three full sentences. In a row. At lunch," Robin was very surprised. You must've still been tired.

"Don't get used to it," You teased before starting to eat.

She returned to her theory stating that instead of an alien, Kaminsky could be a secret agent posted here in Hawkins to ensure that Russians didn't take control of the town - cause 1) clearly the Russians would need control of Hawkins, Indiana and 2) the Polish hate the Russians right?

You weren't so sure about that, but continued to let her babble. It was hard to miss that your own voice was still cutting through the crowd. Most people had turned off the discussion, not willing to let their popularity status be questioned by a random stranger. But there was someone listening. And before you could stop yourself, you were scanning the room for the sound.

Dustin Henderson looked right at you and then immediately away. That boy couldn't be more obvious if he tried. An eyebrow raised as you waited for him to flick his eyes back to you. With a simple nod you directed his attention and gave a small excuse to Robin.

"Vending machine. Want anything?"

"Yoohoo if they have it."

"You do realize that you can get actual chocolate milk in the cafeteria, right?" You couldn't help but scold her a bit.

"I see nothing wrong with Chocolate drink," She chuckled, shooing you away.

Rowdy conversation attacked your ears as you slipped through the lunchroom practically unnoticed. Irritated grumbles from the basketball team caused you to quickly skirt their realm of influence, coming up to the vending machine just behind the curly haired kid. Dustin pretended to be thinking.

"You don't have any change, do you?" You rolled your eyes.

"Didn't expect to have a secret spy mission today," He retorted.

"Well, you tell me what you're acting so squirrely about and I'll get you whatever you like." You knew bribery would do wonders. Afterall, you were bribing him to be on your side.

"Even... Reece's Pieces?"

"You heard me, Henderson."

"We were listening to the show."

"See I gathered as much. Why did you stare at me, dummy?"

"Couldn't help it. Eddie was asking and-"

"What?"

You whipped Dustin around to look at you, fear being held just behind your stony countenance. The poor kid cowered for a moment before recognizing this similar frustration and hanging his head in shame. You moved him out of the way and bought the candy and a soda. With strict gestures, you handed the package out to the boy. Your words were stringent, "Please, just... Dustin I-I can't-"

"I know. We have your back. Swear."

A bit of a smile tickled the corner of your lips. At least you could always count on these dorks.

"Thank you. Oh, and let me know if they ever get that new microphone in at Radio Shack."

And then, just as you were turning to leave, you fully registered what Dustin had told you.

"Wait... Eddie Munson?"

***

Eddie was perplexed. It seemed to be the theme of the day. He drowned himself in the words coming through the walkie ahead of him. An inspiring speech, a clear concise argument built off of interviews and sound science, as well as a complete and unyielding passion held Eddie's attention tightly. He'd never heard anyone speak so candidly. He'd never thought anyone could validate his interests with such fervor and true excitement. In the crowded, painfully loud cafeteria, all Eddie could hear was this radio voice.

When the boy turned to comment to his friends, Dustin was missing. Eddie couldn't help but look for him. He was nearly back at their table, candy pouring into his hand. The boy downed a handful, a smile appearing on his face.

"Where did you get that?" He barked.

Dustin's eyes went wide before offering a clearly fake shrug. "The vending machine, dummy."

"You never have money for the vending machine. Why'd you even go up there?" Lucas eyed him. A blatant look of 'stop asking' was shared. It didn't take long for Eddie to connect the dots.

"She's here?"

The three boys were struck with fear. They began clamoring over one another, desperetly trying to keep Eddie from doing anything rash, reckless, or downright stupid. He'd never seen them beg like this before. It reminded him that just minutes ago they were telling him to back off of the radio girl, to not stress out their extremely shy friend. At least he could trust their loyalty - seeing them rabidly snapping at him proved as much.

He held a finger up to his lips. "I'm just surprised is all. I haven't even looked around the room yet -" Though the more he fought his curiosity, the more he wanted to give into it - "Just let me listen to the rest of this. Okay?"

He pulled the walkie closer to him, getting distracted by the conversation again. The band teacher was explaining how all students involved in a musical pursuit within the school, on average, scored higher on math testing. Radio girl then added that students involved in theatre or vocal music tended to achieve higher standards in English and Literature in comparison to non-artistically involved students. Eddie was blissfully unaware of the younger boys watching him, cataloging every tiny nod and slight smile at the girl's words. They didn't miss the subtle disappointment that wrinkled his forehead as the segment came to a close. Nor did they miss the sparkle in the boy's eye when the Live at Five Q&A segment was mentioned.

***

Eddie sped home that afternoon, immediately turning on the radio and sitting ceremoniously by the phone. As soon as the number was laid out for callers, he dialed at lightning speed. His leg bounced rapidly as the line rang over and over. Eddie almost hung up when a few other people got answered before him. It was stupid to be waiting on some unseen person to answer a question he hadn't even come up with yet. Why was this such a big deal anyway? He was acting irrational and-

"Hey there, you're on the air! What's your name?"

Eddie froze. Sure he'd just imagined it, he went back to waiting. The radio hissed, empty.

"Hello? Anybody home?"

"Yes! Hi! Hello!" He nearly jumped out of his seat. His own voice echoed back to him.

"Phew, thought I'd lost ya there. What's your name?"

"Um, Ed-ward. Edward."

"Well, Edward, what's your question?"

Eddie wasn't sure what was going on. He hadn't thought this far ahead when it came to talking to, finding this radio girl. Luckily, his mouth was already running ahead of him. It had offered a fairly thoughtful question.

"Your discussion earlier talked about the academic success of artistic and musical students. I'd consider myself those things, but I haven't done well in school at all. What should I do?"

"Hmm." The girl's voice was soft, pressed as tightly to his ear as he could get it through the receiver. "Okay... do you test well?"

Eddie was surprised. He didn't think he was going to be answering any questions. "Uh, yeah. I guess so?"

"And do you happen to be heavily dedicated to a few, highly specific creative endeavors?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with it?"

"Edward, my friend, I have a possible answer to your question. The fact is, most artistically gifted students have a difficult time being successful in school. Current curriculums don't satisfy the creative instinct nor the competitive drive. Seeing as you hyper focus and test well, I'd wager you have some sort of Attention Deficit Disorder. Now, I'm not a psychologist, but the chance is high. It would explain how commonplace studies don't interest you and therefore your focus turns to more satisfying pursuits such as music and stories. Most artistic types are what psychologists call, neurodivergent. Basically, our brains don't work the same as other peoples. That's why normal methods don't always work for you. Things that can help include making games out of studying, imploring methods to keep you working - reward systems."

Eddie seemed transfixed. Other than the kids, no one ever deigned to speak to him as an equal. Classmates looked down on him, condescended to him. Teachers either did the same or spoke over his head. Who the hell was this girl? Before their conversation could continue, a strange and angry tone buzzed through the radio and phone.

"Hang on there. Stay on the line," The girl said into the phone. Then her voice was loudly coming through the speakers again. "Thanks for the question! That was the signal for our music break folks. We'll be back with more questions after this."

Laid back guitar riffs filled the empty space her voice left behind. Eddie hung onto the phone, not willing to hang up but unsure he'd heard her correctly.

"Hey, still there?"

He'd heard her correctly. Eddie wasn't sure why he was so nervous. It felt like a delicate situation, music in the background as he now conversed with the girl off the air.

"Y-yeah, I'm still here."

"Good. I just wanted to say... you're not stupid. Whatever you have going on, just know that. Okay?"

Eddie was frozen again.

"Edward?"

He smiled at her using his full name. No one ever did that. He wasn't sure why he'd given it except it made him feel less like 'Eddie the freak'. He didn't know who she was and she wouldn't know who he was. It felt right. Dramatic irony even.

"Thank you, Radio Girl." He couldn't help but smile.

"Anytime."

***

Eddie was howling. Tears were forming in his eyes and he had to gasp to catch his breath. A chorus of giggles continued on the other end of the line. It was a killer sound. For the fifth afternoon in a row, his right ear was glued to the phone. Somehow their discussion of reader engagement had turned into a chat about Dracula, which had then dissolved into campish, drawn out, terrible jokes. Still, they were both laughing.

He'd slowly figured out things about the girl. She was in fact a student at Hawkins, likely a senior as she was taking the few advanced classes the school offered. He was certain they even had classes together: English and Physics to be exact. Radio Girl loved high fantasy, having nearly gone to tears discussing Arwen's plight of troth to Aragorn - a fact that surprised Eddie with a weak-kneed response. Even more than high fantasy, she adored gothic literature. He could remember the exact English project she'd done, detailing the history of the gothic writer's 'party'. A near thirty minute presentation discussing how Mary Shelley, her husband, and Lord Byron created both Frankenstein and Vampires over one hang-out. Hearing her talk about it again had pulled every memory back.

Except, of course, who she was.

"It just is so damn funny that Polidori and Bram Stoker thought Lord Byron was so damn dramatic that he'd be the perfect person to shift the vampire character to. I love the idea of this overly dramatic dude being considered a supernatural creature ‘cause he dislikes people and pulls chicks left and right!"

"I can't imagine Dracula any other way. Dude, when I learned about who Byron based vampires on, I nearly wet myself. That dude was scary. I prefer dark, mysterious man who's so hot women let him kill them."

"Well, it is killing them with a dramatic flair. So I kinda see the appeal." Radio Girl was still laughing. Joking around as if they were long time friends.

A sneaky smile tugged at Eddie's lips, "You find dramatics appealing?"

There was a bit of silence, the girl either confused or flustered at his question. But her wit seemed to regain itself, "I find all dramatics from dark, mysterious men appealing. Did you not know I'm a renaissance woman reincarnate?"

He laughed again.

"But back to the point from, wow, fifty minutes ago - make sure your friends feel invested in the story. You have to help them get attached to the characters you are writing about. Make the characters' hopes and dreams their hopes and dreams. Get your friends on the characters' side: have them love the loved ones, sidekicks, etc. just as much as the characters do. That way when the bad guy steals the main character's one chance at... I don't know, bringing their parent's killer to justice, your friends feel just as betrayed as the character does. Make it hurt, man."

"Was that a Batman reference?" Eddie teased. In truth, he was deflecting from the overwhelming grip she had on his chest. The kids weren't lying when they'd told him about how eloquent she was over the phone or radio. He couldn't imagine her stumbling for a phrase as she apparently did in real life. Every word out of her seemed to be an instant masterpiece.

Eddie could listen to her talk for hours, and had every day since he'd first paid attention to her show. They’d gone back and forth, Eddie hiding his D&D campaign as a story he was writing - still keeping their identities vague. He needed more puzzle pieces before revealing himself.

"What part of 'I find dark, mysterious, dramatic men appealing' don't you get?"

Their laughter echoed in his ears, but her words began to replay in his mind. Maybe he would be able to tell her who he was. After all, some people would say he was dark, mysterious, and dramatic-

"EDDIE! C'MON MAN! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO START FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO!" Mike Wheeler's voice cut through the thin walls of the trailer.

"Edward? Is that-" Radio Girl's voice had shrunk significantly. A slight waver shook his name.

"I'm really sorry. I forgot about this thing with my friends and they've been waiting. Talk tomorrow. Bye Radio Girl!" He slammed the phone down on the receiver. The door to the trailer whipped open, Eddie peering down in frustration at the Hellfire Club outside his door.

Mike grumbled to himself as he ignored the glare, "The least you could do is let us in on time since we had to do this here instead of school."

"You just interrupted an incredibly important phone call, Wheeler. If you want death, I am more than happy to oblige." Eddie snapped back.

Instead of the fear Eddie had anticipated, Mike, as well as Dustin and Lucas, had the biggest grin on his face. The three kids tried to cover their snickers. Eddie only got more frustrated.

"Oh, we know about your phone calls," Dustin hummed. "Heard you call in every night this week and ask a question. Seems like Max was right."

Mike groaned, "Man, I owe her five bucks."

"What are you talking about?" Eddie offered his most intimidating look. They all got their acts back together. It didn't last long. They could help but send shit-eating grins his way as Lucas answered.

"Max said she heard you talking to a girl on the phone. Apparently you're a noisy neighbor. I recognized that our friend was mysteriously absent during the hour of rock. No ads, no track listings."

"That's not-"

"Don't even lie. We just heard everything." Mike grinned. The whole group, not just the freshmen, began mocking Eddie's recent laughs and compliments and comments to the Radio Girl. Each time he tried to stop them, they got worse. He was tamping down a heavy blush as much as he could. He was glad to think of her nonetheless. And to be reminded of her advice.

The campaign tonight? He was definitely gonna make it hurt.

***

The calls became a habit. For two weeks, 'Edward' would call in for the Q&A. He always seemed much more prepared than your usual callers. His questions were thoughtful, not just asking for a restating of what had already been said. He also seemed to be perfectly placed in the call line, redirecting your attention and lightening your mood after particularly aggressive or rude individuals. When your classmate inspired discussion on narrative structure came out, Edward had had so many questions that you had him call back. Your music hour was exactly that, the boy on the other side of the phone dragging you into passionate conversation that kept you from even giving track listings out. The next ten days followed the same pattern. You found yourself pleased at his consistency. That pleasure became an excitement, an anticipation. By the time you noticed the change, you were considering opening the phone lines in the morning in the hopes that he'd call.

In a worried haze, you wandered through the crowded halls. Crystal clear chimes of the bell meant nothing to your furiously thinking mind. If you'd slowed yourself down, you would have realized that you were about to walk directly into the closed doors. But you were processing a mile a minute and were lining up the perfect shot. It was by grace of the universe alone that someone stopped you.

"Hey! Watch out!"

You blinked. Your nose was an inch away from the glass. Stumbling back, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. A pair of hands lightly landed on your shoulders, a slightly blurry figure coming into focus. Soft, sweet brown eyes blinked at you. They were filled with worry and the tiniest glint of humor. It would have been funny to you too if you weren't about to freak out.

"Hate to break it to ya y/l/n, but you can't walk through walls."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

You weren't sure how a coherent sentence came out of you. Especially not one that made the boy ahead of you laugh. It was ironic, being kept out of harms way by Eddie Munson only to have him drop a massive bomb in your life. And he didn't know it at all. But that laugh? You knew that laugh very well.

With ease, your mind pieced together a puzzle that should have been obvious: Edward "Eddie" Munson.

***

"You WHAT?"

"You heard me."

"How did this happen?"

"It's not my fault! It just happened!" Exasperation strained your voice. Robin looked at you, gaping. All she could offer was disbelief.

"Things like this don't just happen y/n! You've just been what, conversing with some metalhead on the daily? When? What class? Because I've never gotten more than two sentences out of you in a row. Do you even have a class together? How do you know him? True, Steve and I know of him ‘cause of the twerps, but that doesn't explain you. I mean, how, how, do you of all people get into conversations with Eddie Munson? To the point that you're clearly flustered about it?"

A long, stringent sigh escaped your lips. An overwhelming blush covered your whole body. "Well, you may not believe me if I tell you."

"Then come up with some sort of proof. I mean, this is insane-" Robin was about to go into another rant.

"I have a way. But you have to swear not to mention this."

"Why?"

"Because my how is unbelievable and the proof of it comes in the form of three kids."

***

The AV room seemed a lot less impressive when you were going to have guests. The recordings were going to plan, finished homework laid strewn atop your backpack, and dust sat in little sweeped piles just cleared from the heavy machines. Large headphones hung around your neck while a pre-recorded ad played over the radio. Music would be going when people arrived. There'd be time enough to hush their voices, prove your point to Robin, and likely enter the most embarrassing conversation of your life when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike asked why you were revealing this secret to your friend.

The phone rang, an odd occurrence so early in the morning. You thought about letting it go to the machine, but the nerves of the coming confession had you going on muscle memory.

"Hello?"

"Oh, you're there! I mean, of course you are the show is going. I-I just didn't expect an answer this early."

"Ed-ward?"

Without warning your heart was thundering in your chest. You blinked back the surprise. Everyone you knew was on the way at this very moment. You had to get off the phone with Eddie and calm down.

With Eddie.

It was the first time you'd thought of him that way; using a colloquial title, nickname, something that made you feel closer than over the phone companions.

"I was just hoping to leave ya a fun message, say good morning. Thought it might be a nice idea. Ya know. Just a normal, non-creepy, morning wake-up call... er... greeting. Wanting to ensure a day of merriment for you dear lady! And now I'm going crazy. Anyway, I won't see you around the school or I will. Who knows?! Think I should hang up now lest I verbally vomit some more-"

"E-Ed-ward?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I hope you have a good morning too."

Goodbyes were offered softly, a rosy blush burning your face. With a sturdy click, the next tape began to whir. The last one before you needed to take charge of everything again. The headphones around your neck buzzed with rock. You realized you’d been snuck in more metal than you used to. You hoped Eddie appreciated that, knew it was for him. What was supposed to be your next discussion topic turned into a gushing dorkfest as your pencil drug silly little hearts across the page. 

The door swung open with a loud squeal. You shook in your chair, surprised and irritated. The group filed in, Dustin quickly grabbing the door and slamming it shut. His eyes had gone wide looking down the hallway. A tiny click told you he’d locked the door. Words stoppered in your throat, making it difficult to swallow and impossible to speak. Mike and Lucas were jammed into a corner, looking far too big for the space. Dustin offered a big smile, leaning his full weight against the locked door. And Robin stood, gangly and confused next to another person. When you finally registered the last person, you thought you’d throw up.

“Steve insisted. Sorry,” Robin glared.

“I don’t mean to pry. I just got interested when everyone started in together. I hope this is alright. I can totally leave if you need,” The boy offered with a shrug. You couldn’t form words, just shook your head to indicate he didn’t have to leave.

If you could have predicted your own death, you assumed it’d be something like this; being stared at by strangers while your insides clawed themselves to bits. How you were going to explain yourself was a complete mystery. Had you thought about the consequences of being in front of a group of people and having to speak, you never would have said anything to Robin. The lump in your throat felt rock solid as you swallowed. Your heart hammered against your chest - so much for calming down before they arrived.

“Y/n? You good?” Lucas spoke quietly. You shook your head.

“So why are you here anyway?” Mike asked. His blunt question bounced off Robin like it was nothing.

“Well little miss can’t speak over here has gotten herself into a situation and needs my help. However, I need some clarification on the circumstances. Thus this weird robot closet,” Robin smarted back.

“I-I,” You tried to speak. You felt faint but wired, light headed but completely amped. The choked sound that came out of you redirected everyone’s attention, their eyes on you. That was so much worse.

Steve questioned, “Is she alright?”

“Hey, maybe we should... Uh-, let's turn around. If we don’t look at her it’ll help,” Lucas piped up. That kid deserved all good things. The relief was immediate.

“Thanks Lucas.”

You weren’t sure how to begin at first, just filling your lungs with air to ease the shakiness of your hands. Eventually, you began the painful process of explaining. “S-so you’re all… all here- and S-s-steve? - all here because Robin knows s-something. A-and she needs… Robin needs context. And proof. So… so um… you- you guys are the proof. Yes.”

Everyone stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. You thought you heard a rustle outside the door but wrote it off as some strange sound from your headphones. The music was still going. You had time.

“I… I am the one that hosts Hawkins 68.8.”

Robin whipped around, eyes wide, mouth agape. “Seriously?”

“She’s not lying!” Dustin yelled over his shoulder.

“Dustin, don’t yell in here,” You sighed.

“There’s no way.” Robin spoke. Steve agreed with her. Suddenly the two people around your age were arguing with the freshmen, snapping at one another and growing louder. The room was much too small for this many people. And the music was beginning to wind down. You only had about twenty seconds before you were live.

“SHUT UP!”

Everyone turned to look at you. Silence hung tight in the air. You motioned a zipper over your lips and put on the headphones. The ragtag team stood motionless as you flicked on the red ‘On Air’ light and rolled towards the microphone. With a simple turn of a dial, the music playing on the radio filled the room. It slowly faded as you adjusted your own microphone volume.

“HEY THERE HAWKINS! Just letting you know that it’s 7am. Unless you’re playing hookie, it’s time to get out that door and on the road. Speaking of on the road, there’s been an accident on Lakeview Road that is blocking traffic. Hope you're ready to rock this morning. This one goes out to my favorite trumpet player. Robin, happy Friday.”

Blondie blasted through the speaker. You shut off your mic, set up the next few tracks, and finally cut off the light. Still, it stayed silent.

“Holy shit.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on Robin’s face. You sent her a measly shrug.

“So, you’ve obviously been doing this for a while. When… when did…?”

“Only a couple weeks ago.”

“And, on the air?”

“No… no. Not really. Like answering questions, yes. Full, really great conversations, all off air.”

“Wow. So you didn’t know who it was, not at all, until-”

“Yesterday. Yep.”

“What are you talking about?” Dustin whined, clearly voicing the opinion of all the boys in the room.

“Nothing!” You and Robin nodded at one another.

“Bullshit.”

“Dustin, language man!” Steve scolded the boy. “Clearly this is a private, albeit interesting conversation. So let’s all just leave the two girls alone.” He went to the door, allowing Dustin to open it a fraction. Steve stepped out, waving the boys along. All they did was shove him out and slam the door.

“This is about Eddie, isn’t it?” Dustin offered the loudest whisper imaginable. The blood in your body ran cold everywhere except for your face, which you were sure was burning to the touch. All three boys began furiously discussing with one another, Dustin mostly repeating ‘I knew it!’ and Mike grumbling about owing someone some money. Defeated and irritated sighs bonded you and Robin together.

“You twerps want to explain how you know about all this?” Robin took charge.

“Eddie can’t hide anything from us.”

“Totally transparent.”

“He just came into school one day and was on a mission to figure out who you were.” You nearly puked at the thought. Lucas continued, hoping to help you keep from tipping over, “But we were adamant that he leave you alone. Never told him who you were. He totally doesn’t know.”

“Usually he drops this kinda stuff, gets bored. But he didn’t with you… that’s when we noticed he was asking to listen at lunch every day and calling into the show after school,” Mike’s eyebrows nearly touched his hair. His desperate attempt to keep from cracking a smile at your expense was admirable even though it was a complete failure.

“Dude’s got it bad. Hundred percent,” Dustin beamed at you. At least someone was enjoying the situation you were in.

“You’re sure about that? What do you babies know about it?” Robin came to your defense. “You can’t just say that if you aren’t sure.”

“I am sure! Y/n! Robin is-”

“Dustin, shut up.” Lucas sighed. “You figured it out while you were talking to Eddie yesterday?”

You nodded.

“Duh. You’re like, the smartest. Eddie couldn’t put two and two together if he tried. He’ll never know.” Dustin was laughing to himself.

“He stopped me from walking into the wall. I made a joke and he laughed. That’s how I figured it out. And I had thought I’d heard Mike at one point, on the other end of the line. It was faint, but now I know it was you.” You quietly explained.

There was another ruckus, the boys and Robin hollering over one another. It was clear that they were all surprised. In truth, you were too. You couldn’t believe that two times you’d gotten yourself into a situation where Edward Munson was saving you from harm's way and enjoying your sarcasm. You could barely believe that you’d spent nearly two weeks talking with him every night. But here you were, a blushy mess just thinking about it all. Your normal embarrassment around people was gone and replaced with a new kind.

“So you’re telling me, you, you, interacted and talked in person with Eddie Munson without exploding?” You nodded. Mike continued, “And he didn’t immediately figure out it was you?” You shook your head.

“What an idiot,” Dustin shot the boys a look of disappointment.

“Don’t say that. It isn’t true.”

Everyone turned to look at you again. Robin gave you that look of pity reserved solely for friends feeling hopeless in romantic endeavors. You’d shared it before many times. You took the silence to give out the host farewell. Dustin, sweet as ever, helped get everything set up for the school day. Mike and Lucas quietly conversed with one another. Robin, sneaking a peak at your notes, gave you a wide-eyed look. You warned her with as good of hand signals as you could.

“You know…” Lucas began, “Eddie is really a nice guy.”

“Yeah! Y/n, he’s into a lot of the stuff you like. And he’s always looking out for us.” Mike added, clearly trying to talk up his friend. There wasn’t a need.

“I know,” You replied simply.

Again all eyes were on you. This time, there was nothing to distract from the clear fondness written all over your face. It was just as much of a surprise to you as it was to everyone else. Shocked glances flicked around the room. For once, you were the only person willing to talk.

“Robin’s right. It’s not smart to make assumptions. I mean, Dusty, you thought Steve and Robin should date and clearly they’d never work. It isn’t a big deal. He has no clue who I am… which is good! You know? This way we never have to meet in person and… and I-I can’t mess it up …Let’s not be late for class.”

Very quickly, you stuffed your homework into your backpack. You nodded to them, pushing the door open. It was heavy, likely a little stuck at first. But you shoved your way out nonetheless and held the door open as everyone filed out. The boys surrounded you, an odd act that made you realize they weren’t little anymore. The keys clicked the lock on the door and you headed off into the school, strange gaggle of friends following behind you due to their complete confusion. Each step led you further and further into terror. 

Why had you told them?

***

Eddie couldn’t see her. He’d just barely heard her and only for a few words each time. The complete embarrassment he felt from her answering the phone, from him calling her from the front office, and then noticing Dustin with Harrington and Robin in the school was the final straw. He had to know who she was. He followed them, getting shoved from entering what he now realized was the AV room. Steve Harrington had sent him the lamest look when he got kicked out. And then, on top of it all, he’d been sitting at the door with his ear pressed against it when they tried to leave. He’d been nudged out of the way and just when he thought he’d finally get to see Radio Girl, the freshmen were waving him off. Their wild gestures ending as they swiftly barricaded the girl from view.

Aside from thinking how cute and short the girl must be, Eddie was devastated. He’d narrowed down his search from every girl in school to those he had English and Physics with. The list was quite short now and left him feeling dismal. There wasn’t a single person it could be that he genuinely liked in real life, except y/n y/l/n - she was nice. At least, she’d never openly been mean to him. She’d defended him in class once with quite the sharp wit actually. But she always seemed scared to death to talk to him.

Sitting outside the now locked AV room, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for himself. Two weeks. He’d been trying and failing to figure the Radio Girl out for two weeks. And nothing. He could hear her morning announcement in his head again, muffled through the heavy wooden door. And the crystal clear command she’d used to quiet everyone in the room. He knew her voice. Hell, he knew everything that she’d ever said to him. He knew her love of The Fall of the House of Usher and her hatred of The Raven. He knew she only liked strawberry ice cream when it was in neapolitan. He knew how she would gasp if she laughed and lost her breath. How could he not know her sitting in the same room as him? Walking down the same hall?

That thought brought him back to reality. She was right down the hall. Before the group could disappear around the corner, Eddie was running towards them. Radio Girl was still blocked from view, but he saw the kids abruptly stop and halted himself. He padded forward, trying to keep quiet.

“Guys, I… I know that you’re excitab-able and all… and-and you prob-obably… you wanna talk abou-about well… you know. B-bu- but… but… please, just don’t say any-anything. I have a friend now. One that gets to really talk to me. He… he would b-be so disappointed finding out it’s me. I’m not getting any hopes up… not yours… and-and not mine either.”

The way the girl’s voice shook broke Eddie’s heart. He knew it was his Radio Girl, but she barely resembled herself now. He could hear the echoes of other student chatter, the growing crowd and secret conversation likely pressing her into a corner of herself. Lucas had said she was awfully shy. Her sighs were fully defeated. Whatever she had been discussing with them, she’d already lost. Memories of her perfect soliloquies, descriptions and stories, all their private conversations flooded his mind. Eddie couldn’t imagine anyone being disappointed in her, whether or not she was frightened to speak in person. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around the girl and help her feel safe - the way she did when she hid behind the phone. He’d love to see her smile while hearing her laugh. He’d love to see the look in her eyes, whatever color they were, as she wistfully waxed about a story. His body had decided before his mind that he was going to go right up to her.

He didn’t get that far.

As if sensing him, Dustin whipped around and barreled right into him. He was talking at a rapid pace and Eddie had to grab onto the lockers to not fall over.

“Hey Henderson. Oh Christ,” The wind was nearly knocked out of him. Dustin was still chattering on. “I can’t understand you, doofus. Slow down.”

“Do you like the radio girl? Why do you keep calling her? Have you figured out who she is? When were you going to tell us that you were talking to her every day? For hours! What do you know about her? Why were you following me? What is your deal Eddie? What is it?”

The string of questions got more pushy the longer Dustin went on.

“Okay, okay, okay! Chill out, dude!” Eddie held his hands up in defense. “I followed you because I was confused about you guys with Harrington and Robin. Then you slammed the door in my face and I realized you were in the AV room.”

“And the other stuff?”

Mike’s voice scared Eddie shitless. Where had the little creep come from? Getting his bearings, Eddie noted Lucas had joined them as well. It was going to be a long morning.

“We’re waiting!” Dustin’s sing-song voice hit a sour note. They all seemed very frustrated with him.

The older boy sighed, tugging at his hair and mentally cursing himself for going along with the antics of three fifteen year olds. Nonetheless, he answered, “Well, I know she goes to school here. She’s a senior - no underclassman is self-loathing enough to take the advanced history class early. She likes Poe, Frankenstein, Dracula, dark romance stuff - but The Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is her favorite. …Thinking about it, it is fitting… She’s a hell of a strategist. That session where Kas and Vecna kidnapped all the people you previously saved? Her idea. I… well, I started calling her to ask questions. I mean, her talk show stuff is seriously thought out, so interesting and I couldn’t help but wonder about it. And then she was so sweet, told me to call back since she didn’t have time for all my questions. We just got into the habit of it. It’s insane. You weren’t kidding when you said she was smart, but she doesn’t treat me like a complete idiot. Not at all like anyone here. I know she broke her arm twice, in two different places. I know we have to be in the same English class… I swear I’ve heard her talk about gothic literature in person. And she’s in my physics class too - was complaining about Kaminsky’s homework. Girl can curse. It was so funny. She’s so funny. And her laugh? Huh, um, yes. Anyway, yeah I guess I’ve kept calling cause it’s fun. She’s fun. I don’t know. It’s nice to talk to someone without them treating me like a freak. I don’t know man, I don’t know. This morning she was playing Ozzy and Dio and Iron Maiden and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to talk to her again. How stupid I have to be to not see her and immediately know, there’s my girl. I couldn’t help when I saw you guys cause I thought that maybe, just maybe if I could see her that I’d be able to get her out of my head. Get on with normal life. But hell, at this point it’s a lost cause and I don’t want anything but her in my head. I feel crazy. I can’t go after her. Partially cause you three keep getting in the way, partially cause if she knew it was me she would probably freak out, and partially because she seemed so scared just talking to you guys. Yes, I heard. At least the part just now in the hall. And I don’t think I could stand causing her to feel that way.”

Eddie was pretty sure that was the longest he’d talked without being interrupted aside from campaigns. The silence in the hallway now was palpable. Even with students rushing by to get to class, the emptiness around the group of boys continued to echo. Eddie felt tired. He felt like he’d just dumped out two weeks worth of thoughts; that his brain was accepting the release and ready to rest after carrying it all for so long.

“So he likes her,” Lucas stated matter-of-factly. It wasn’t even directed to Eddie.

“No shit,” Eddie mumbled, starting to notice heat creeping up his neck.

“You called her ‘my girl’,” Dustin snickered. It earned him a firm slap on the arm.

“Should we tell him?” Mike asked.

“What?”

“I think we could?” Lucas shrugged.

“Tell me what?”

“Depends. Do you think she’ll be more upset if we tell him? Or will the pros outweigh the cons?” Dustin offered.

“Just tell me you idiots!”

“Impatient,” Lucas scoffed. “I think we have to tell him.”

“It’s on you if she gets upset!” Mike held his hands up, wiping away any guilt he might find later.

Eddie began to growl in frustration, “If you three don’t tell-”

“She knows it's you.”

Eddie stared at Lucas. The heat from his neck took over his whole head, burning his ears and face. They had to be kidding. There was no way. He hadn’t given any indication. Never mentioned Hellfire, or his band, or went by Eddie. How did she figure him out so easily when she was still a complete mystery?

“Apparently, she thought she heard me over the phone one time… probably when we had that session at your place and I- uh- I interrupted your call. But she wasn’t sure until she made you laugh,” Mike explained.

“What?”

“Eddie, man, she made you laugh. Recently! Like, yesterday,” Dustin chuckled, shaking his head as the older boy’s face screwed up in confusion.

“So, she figured out it was me?” Was all he could squeeze out. His mind raced, going back over the previous day as best he could. He had to remember. She’d been right there and he’d missed her.

“Yep. And yet she was mysteriously missing from last night's hour of rock again,” Lucas added, scuffing his shoe on the floor as if the information was boring. But he was right. They’d talked for hours and she knew it was him the whole time.

Before he could get anything else out of the kids, the bell was screaming at them. As much as he was hoping to throttle information out of the sneaky little bastards, he refused to miss class. He was going to figure out who she was. Today. Starting with Physics.

***

Five minutes into Kaminsky’s class Eddie had rounded the corner from hopeful to hopeless. Every time he sized someone up, wondering if they were his Radio Girl, something would prove him wrong. He was certain he’d heard all the possible voices during roll. Nothing. The gloom and doom of failing so swiftly pushed him down in his seat. He moped the whole class. And though he frequently felt eyes on him, when he turned to look, no one was looking his direction. At least he wasn’t alone in his agitated state - y/l/n had been wringing her hands and bouncing her leg the entire class.

Kaminsky dismissed the class after the bell cried out. Homework was offered, a few students held back to chat with him. Eddie, scuffing his sneakers on the floor, missed his classmate blushing as he passed. He set his focus on the wrong thing, searching the hallway with an eagle eye, scouring every face for the proof he was looking for. Desperate ears waited for the voice he longed to hear.

By the time he did hear it, he was halfway down the hall, surrounded by people and the ability to find the girl gone.

“Thank you Mr. Kaminsky. I’ll be fine on my own tonight. Have a good weekend!”

Eddie whipped around. The boy got shoved back and forth. When his eye caught the door to the physics classroom it was completely empty. A frustrated groan slipped past his lips, fists clenching and head dropping down. A sea of confused students milled around him, avoiding the quiet outburst. Though he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to look up. Somewhere, likely walking past him at that exact moment, his Radio Girl was slipping through his grasp. How badly must she think of him for not recognizing her? He hoped she didn’t blame his lack of recognition on herself. She was amazing, all the time. Eddie was just so focused he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

“Eddie!”

The boy sighed, looking up to find Mike waving him over. Questions about Hellfire rained down. Eddie had to shake his head to refocus. His fixation on Radio Girl had distracted him from the campaign tonight. He’d finished it already, with the girl’s help of course, but he couldn’t help his embarrassed feelings over being caught unprepared.

“I’m losing it,” He mumbled to himself.

Mike patted his arm, offering a smug smile with his shrugging shoulders, “Yeah. You haven’t once realized that you and Radio Girl are gonna be in the same place all night.”

“Holy shit!” Eddie beamed, nearly jumping. “She’s closing up by herself. I heard her tell Kaminsky!”

Together, in quiet excitement, the two boys rejoiced at the elder’s good luck. He’d be suave, they decided, casually walking out of the drama room at the exact right time. Mike assured him that girls loved that stuff. Eddie’s mind drifted to the Radio Girl’s admission of her preference for the dark, mysterious, and dramatic. He’d be a total gentleman. Swoon worthy. He’d be high on a destructive game of D&D and it’d be perfect.

“Where’s Henderson? You gotta tell the rest of the club to come battle ready. I’m gonna be on top of the world boys!” Eddie cackled. His yo-yoing emotions were toying with him. No girl had ever held so much control over him - especially without knowing. The childish giddiness of adolescent love had thrown him out of whack. Now, despite his earlier hopeless droning, he was soaring. It was this happy-go-lucky burst that sent him spinning around, searching the emptying hallway for the curly-headed kid.

If he thought his heart couldn’t beat any faster, Dustin was animatedly talking at a girl as she placed books in her locker. Eddie immediately recognized the brightly colored title: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. As if wanting to supply him more proof, the girl handed a pack of Reece’s pieces over her shoulder. Dustin snatched them gratefully. He must have mentioned something exciting, the girl stilling before whipping around.

There she was.

Time seemed to slow. A bright, lively look lit up her face. Her shoulders were relaxed, her chin lifting with certainty. And then, the final knife in his chest, she smiled. Eddie stood there, unwilling to stop himself from soaking in every moment he was in her presence. He didn’t mind how oblivious he’d been.

Eddie audibly sighed, leaning back against the lockers and watching the interaction. Dustin was yanking a large box from his backpack. The girl’s delicate hands snatched it with intensity, her grin only growing. The bell cut his reverie short. He watched as she tousled the younger boy’s hair and waved him off to class. And then, Eddie watched the transformation take place. The mask was taken away and replaced with the secret identity. The once confident frame curled around a set of books and notebooks. Starry eyes were downcast, hidden from his view. Something within him ached to run right up to her. It all made sense. She could barely stand to talk in class. The teachers loved her - likely due to the value she attributed to their work. Now that he thought about it, he had seen her sweet face nodding along as the kids pestered her. Even better, two times - two - she had revealed herself. Two wonderfully witty moments that, while she likely hadn’t meant to share, he had been privy to. She’d been sitting two feet away from him the whole time. Eddie’s eyes shamelessly followed her down the hallway, his smile spreading ear to ear.

Y/n had pulled a total Clark Kent on him.

***

A rapid, jolting knock shook the door. Soft music hummed through the concealed room. Steady fingers gripped the knobs on the sound board, adjusting the gain as a louder song faded in. Another knock echoed through the room. The wheels of your stool creaked as you rolled over and flicked the lock with a loud click.

“I told Dustin I’d be fine. I don’t need anyone to help me lock up boys,” Your voice carried as you headed back to the desk. Another knock came, this one more tentative, and you noticed the person on the other side didn’t take advantage of the unlocked door. The music drifted off, quieter as you set down your headphones, and stood hesitantly on the other side of the door. Your heart pounded against your chest. The pads of your fingertips grazed the wooden door, hesitant as your mind wandered to one sole thought.

“Edward?”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. There was a chance your voice hadn’t even carried through to the other side.

“Hey Radio Girl.”

Your heart seemed to stop up your throat. Eddie Munson was on the other side of the AV Room door. You weren’t sure what to say. The terrifying thought of the door opening kept you silent. It wasn’t a worry you needed to hold onto - Eddie would never take advantage of you. Before you could respond, he was already talking a mile a minute.

“I just want to tell you that I won’t be able to call tonight. I, uh, I have a meeting tonight. A club thing. I didn’t… I didn’t want you to think that I was blowing you off.”

Fondness spread through every inch of your body. How you could have ever felt nervous around him, you couldn’t understand. A goofy grin was pulling across your face. You leaned into the door, forehead resting against it. “Shame you’re gonna miss out on all the calls today. Sure I’ll get some real invested folks in your stead.”

Eddie laughed. Your smile only brightened.

“Don’t go snatching up some new person with lots of questions. I want my spot when I call back.” You could hear him smiling too. It felt so good to hear his voice without all the static. And though your hand hovered over the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to open it. Just evident enough in the back of your mind, the nagging voice reminded you that you would be a disappointment to him.

“Doubt anyone else would indulge my dorky conversations.”

He laughed again.

“Well, don’t be late on my account,” Nerves began to take root once more. “I don’t want to keep you from anything important.”

“Oh believe me, if this wasn’t a promise to the kids then you’d never get rid of me,” He was chuckling. It buzzed through the door, warm against your chest. Silly dramatic daydreams filled your mind and before you knew it, the boy was saying goodbye.

“B-bye!” You called out. Embarrassment colored your face at your outburst. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but giggle. You were giggling. Nothing could take away the quiet excitement buried deep in your chest. Not embarrassment, not worry, nothing. Eddie Munson had had the chance to burst through your door, find out who you were and make his judgment. But he didn’t. He didn’t take the unlocking door as an answer to his knock. He had waited; waited to see if you would open the door.

Maybe, just maybe you could open that door the next time…

You just hoped he knocked again.

***

Eddie was about to knock when the teens yanked him back. Their whispers echoed through the darkened, empty hall. They were furious, fussy, frantic in their desire to help set everything right. He was sure their nervousness was starting to rub off on him.

“Why is he wearing a cape?”

“Cause it’s cool!”

“It’s stupid!”

“I have to agree, Henderson this is a bit much.”

“Give him his jacket back.”

“Not the vest. Just the jacket. You said she said dark and mysterious right?”

“Y-yeah but-”

“No vest. It’s too light. Stuff it in your bag.”

“Oh that’s good! Maybe you can offer it if she’s cold. Nice, nice.”

“Get that stupid thing out of here!”

“It totally would’ve worked.”

Dustin grumbled as he stomped back through the hallway, long black fabric trailing behind him. Eddie brushed the boys off of him, hands waving them away. Bright smiles and thumbs up were offered as he was left alone in the hall. They’d ended the session early - partly because Eddie had nearly killed their entire party and partly to ensure that he didn’t miss his shot with y/n. The amount of times that Mike Wheeler had drilled into him that he only had one chance to make this work equaled the amount of knots tied in Eddie’s stomach. Knowing no one could see him, he practiced how he’d stand. He leaned on the lockers in different ways, shifted his weight from foot to foot, and tried stilling himself. Nothing worked. His energy outweighed everything else, his knees practically shaking as he paced back and forth in front of the door. It was as if he had to move. His body not knowing what else to do with the crashing waves of emotions roiling through his chest. But then his ears perked, the confirmation that y/n hadn’t left yet coming muffled through the door.

“That was… and… one of… and a favorite of mine…”

Eddie found himself crouched by the door again, ear pressed firmly as the faint music began to play. It was almost nine. Radio Girl - y/n - always said goodnight at nine. They’d stayed up talking later than that many times. Eddie wondered if it’d been a burden, staying so late at the school every night just to talk to him. He hoped it wasn’t. Soft guitar drifted through the door. A smile twitched at his lips. In an easy adjustment, he rested his back against the door, head nodding along softly.

“It’s one of your favorites, right?”

Eddie jumped. A small snicker whispered past his ear.

“Sorry. Pretty sure I just gave you a heart attack. I- uh… I heard voices in the hall and I guessed you might be out here.”

From the sound of it, y/n had joined him on the other side of the door. Her voice was so close, like she was mirroring his position. He imagined her knees pulled up to her chest, hair shifting around her face as she pressed her head back to the door. Maybe her hands were just at the edge of the door; their fingers mere centimeters from touching if he slipped his back. His breath felt thunderous, invasive and unwelcome in the silent hallway. He needed to calm down. He needed to say something back.

“Hope I didn’t intrude,” He squeezed out.

He could hear her laugh, light as a feather, “Oh the intrusion was blaring. Whispering? In a hallway? Outside a closed door? You ought to know better.”

“Guess the mysterious entrance is out of the question now, seeing as I’ve blown my cover,” He whined, gauging her reaction.

“Giving up that easily? Oh, I’m ashamed. Don’t tell me you of all people didn’t think of a back-up plan!”

Eddie perked up. He couldn’t help it. She hadn’t said no to his idea. Hope fluttered, a relentless bird in his chest, pushing his next words out in a yelp.

“I never said I hadn’t thought of a dramatic one!” His grin could have lit up the whole school. “However, I did happen to relinquish my cape.”

Her laughter reinforced his resolve. “You had the option of a cape and you didn’t choose it? Amature hour, Munson.”

Eddie was too gregarious to notice the slip. “Damn. Can’t believe Henderson was right. He’s gonna be such a shit about it.”

“Oh absolutely.”

 And then the lightbulb went off. Though he’d been told that y/n knew it was him, he’d been skeptical until now. But she’d said his name, a smile evident in her voice. And Eddie was desperate for her to do it again.

He cleared his throat, mind wildly searching for the right thing to say. “By the way, I think you’re in need of a ride. The terrible trio were so frantic ‘cause Harrington was waiting on them. Mike said something about the teachers giving you a ride… and I may have overheard your conversation with Kaminsky…”

It was silent. Alarm bells rang out in Eddie’s head. He was sure he’d just screwed up the whole situation. Y/n would think he was a complete creep and never speak to him again.

“A young, helpless girl being escorted home by a man she’s yet to meet face to face?”

Eddie winced.

“Sounds dark and mysterious to me.”

He could tell she was tentative, but it was definitely her way of saying yes.

“R-really? You’d let me give you a ride?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” Now she was teasing him.

“No! Just playing hard to get. Dark mysterious men let the ladies come to them… right?”

Incredible laughter shook the door. Her giggles played a light tune. Eddie let it drown out everything else. If she’d ever played it over the radio, he had no doubt that everyone would fall in love with her in an instant.

“You know, I have absolutely nothing to disprove that logic,” Her words came out shaky; part laughter, part sigh. A hole opened up, silence spreading between them. Eddie’s immediate concern that she was changing her mind was quickly eased. “Not to mention I’m starving. The teachers never really want to stop for something. Think I could convince a dark, mysterious, dramatic figure to grab a bite?”

Eddie sat dumbfounded. His wide eyes softened the hallway around him, blurring everything all at once. He replayed the moment in his mind, forcing himself to make sure he’d actually heard the girl correctly.

Had y/n just asked him out?

***

DID I JUST ASK HIM OUT? The thought pounded against your brain over and over again. What had you been thinking? Not a single word had been spoken since. At least thirty seconds of dead air had gathered around the two of you. From inside the AV room you had no way of knowing what was going on in Eddie Munson’s mind. Was he even still sitting there? You were sure he’d left. Realizing how incredibly presumptuous and ridiculous you had been, you shoved away from the door. On your feet you paced, and fixed a few tapes. You packed your things only to find, as usual, that there was only one way out of this broom closet of a space. It occurred to you that maybe you could pile things up and fit into the air vents. The first two attempts to reach it failed and a beep on the cassette player reminded you you still had obligations left.

You weren’t exactly sure how you were going to get through a sign-off. Not after clearly striking out in your first and only attempt of asking someone out. You wished you’d wasted that blunder on someone who didn’t matter, someone who wouldn’t leave a gaping hole in your life by disappearing. The fact that Eddie Munson had garnered such a spot within your regard was a testament to how special he was. You could only come to one conclusion: You screwed up.

“H-hey there Hawkins. That-that was Mötley Crüe with Home Sweet Home. Speaking of, the sky is dark, the hour is late, and it’s time to say goodnight. Music will carry you through till tomorrow. Tune in at 5am for the weather report. Night Hawkins.”

Fingers tugged at your face, your hands dragging down your frustration and pulling you into yourself. That was your worst sign off in years. You slowly cut off all the equipment but the broadcast relay and the nightly cassette tower. It was eerily quiet. Your gaze drifted to the door. And, without meaning to, unable to stop it, the most defeated sigh fell from your lips. It ached in your chest. At least the walk home would offer a distraction.

“You know, I was terrified of not being able to shut up. All throughout school, since like the first day of kindergarten, I just couldn’t be quiet. Couldn’t sit still, always had something to say. And it freaked me out constantly. No one could talk to me cause I just kept blabbing. So, obviously, it didn’t help me make many friends. And it got me in tons of trouble. Not only would I be a constant interruption, but I had no filter. So literally anything in my mind came out of my mouth. Called my third grade teacher a grizzly bear and got in-school suspension. Which, if it hadn’t been for the teacher falling asleep, I surely would have stayed there forever cause I still couldn’t stop talking. When middle school came around, I’d figured out I could whisper to myself and get caught less. Thinking about it now is so insanely creepy. Some buzzcut kid whispering to themselves in the corner of the room? No wonder people think I worship the devil or some shit. I guess it was around junior year that I figured out I could just chat with myself in my head. I hold fake conversations with people a lot, try out voices and dialogue for campaigns, win my argument with Henderson from lunch, stuff like that. Until recently, I’ve never had the skill of listening outside of D&D. But for the past few weeks all I’ve wanted to do is shut up and listen. Of course, the one time that I need to come up with a response I go completely blank. And you probably think I’m some jerk who ignored what you had to say. I just feel like you should know that you- you shouldn’t be nervous to talk to me. Cause if you wanna not talk I’m sure I can talk enough for the both of us. But if you do want to, I’d be totally down to listen. I mean, hell, you’ve been all superhero secret identity-ing me for days and as soon as I realized it I lost all my cool. But of course y/n y/l/n is a secret badass. I mean, killer smart, flies under the radar, has surprisingly witty retorts whenever needed. Literally pulling a whole Clark Kent on all of Hawkins and-”

As soon as you’d opened the door, the floodgates opened with it. Leaning on the doorframe, hands wildly gesturing, Eddie Munson captured your entire attention. He was still there. Taking in his words, you held back a blush as best you could. It was very uncommon for you to be this close to the boy, the last time being when you figured out he was your mystery caller. Up close you could take in the wonder in his eyes, the overexertion in every expression, his unfairly sweet smile that came packaged with dimples. Your heart was bursting at his confession, his desire to make you comfortable winning you over instantly. It didn’t hurt that his leaning over you had you weak in the knees.

You wanted to respond in some elegant way. Show him his efforts weren’t in vain. Maybe even charm him so as to forget your earlier blunder. However, what came out didn’t exactly meet your expectations for your first real face to face conversation.

“Clark Kent? Really?”

The slight look of concern on the boy’s face melted away. In its place, an enchanting smile bloomed. You couldn’t help but reciprocate a small one of your own. With a tentative reach you waited for a handshake.

“H-hi, I’m y/n y/l/n.”

In a charming fashion only he could pull off, the curly headed boy turned your handshake into a romantic gesture, cradling your hand to his lips. “Edward Munson, dear lady.”

***

The buzz of the neon ‘open’ sign filled the space between Eddie and y/n. It exemplified the charge he felt. He kept looking over the menu, eyes dancing across her partially hidden face. Every part of him was begging for another close look into her eyes. What had often been a fleeting glance in his direction had become a soft, starlit gaze that held him transfixed.

Her quiet laughter had spurred him on, his antics fueled by adoration. She’d listened intently as he chattered on. The small, precious smile never left her face, even when she was too nervous to look at him. She’d bobbed her head with the music, he teased that the host must have good taste. The drive had left him wondering if he’d talked too much. But her lips never downturned and he didn’t miss the looks she thought were secret. He was sure they had been in the past, but now that he knew? There was no way he’d ever miss one again.

“What can I get for ya sweetie?” The older waitress gave Eddie a crinkly smile before looking at the girl. Y/n went wide eyed. To his pleasure, she looked right at him. The tension in her brow relaxed and he watched the transformation, in reverse from the last time. She blossomed like a rose.

“I’ll have a double cheeseburger, extra bacon, grilled onions, with fries and a chocolate milkshake. Oo! Could I also get some ranch?”

“You’re killing me y/l/n,” Eddie mumbled to himself. He nodded to the waitress when she asked if he wanted the usual.

“What?” The girl eyed him when they were left alone. All he could do was smile, shaking his head and covering his face with his hands. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing… It’s just… it’s you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Eddie heard the tiniest shift in her voice. It yanked his heart into his throat. She had no clue the effect she had on him. Since he’d truly heard her, y/n had turned him into a puddle. “I, uh, I feel like Aragorn when he first met Arwen.”

His concern at freaking her out was unfounded. When he got the courage to look up at her, she was blushing heavily and fighting a smile. Once again she was having a hard time finding words.

“Something to say?” Eddie teased.

“Yeah,” She finally mustered, taking a deep breath and flashing him the sneakiest grin, “Shut up.”

The food arrived, their conversation finally finding its pace. The once quiet diner was full of laughter. Every inch of Eddie’s body felt light with wonder, abuzz with electricity. Crackling static initiated the shifts between songs. Their conversation had meandered for hours, requiring an extra helping of fries, a second milkshake, and a stolen cherry. Cool evening air seeped through the windows chilling the leather seats. Tiny hills and valleys appeared on y/n’s arms, tiny shivers sliding easily up and down her spine. Eddie fought the urge to reach out and pull her tight, warm her up. But things were too delicate. Anything he did could cause the moment to collapse around him.

Then she touched his arm.

In truth, it was to put money in his jacket pocket for dinner. She said she couldn’t let him pay when she’d eaten half the restaurant. Their waitress made a point to tell him he’d found a good match. All he could do was nod and leave a great tip. The night air chilled them to the bone and when y/n shivered just outside the safety of the diner, Eddie jumped at the chance to offer his coat. The heavy leather jacket sat large on her shoulders. Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not the cold or his gesture dusted pink across the girl’s face, but he accepted it nonetheless. He scrambled to help her into the van, jumping in himself to blast the heat.

***

The drive to your house was both too long and too short. Too short because you desperately wanted the night to keep going - fearful that you’d wake up tomorrow to find that you’d dreamt the whole thing. And too long because you were positive that you’d not picked a bunch of love songs for the late hours, and yet here they were playing on your station. Everything was labeled with the date and you’d picked them out days ago. You were certain you didn’t pick the songs. You didn’t play this much lovey-dovey stuff except for Valentine’s Day. Still, three songs in a row now had clearly been love songs. It caused your face to burn. Nimble fingers gripped at the cuffs of Eddie’s jacket around your shoulders as you aimed to shift your thoughts.

Specifically trying not to focus on the incredibly sweet and attractive boy humming along next to you. Eddie brought the van to a halt, muttering his understanding at your quiet directions. You hoped he didn’t notice your reddened complexion. It didn’t help one bit that I Want To Know What Love Is was scoring the goodbye.

“Th-thank you for bringing me home.” You offered a delicate smile, “I had a lot of fun.” Your hands felt clammy and you resisted the urge to look at the boy next to you for more than a few seconds. It wasn’t a date. No one had acknowledged the date-like nature the outing had. When Eddie hadn’t mentioned it or teased about it, you were certain he didn’t see it in the same light as you. All you had to do was make it out of the car and into your house without fumbling. You’d stay friends, your now certified crush would be deeply hidden, and you could go on as if you hadn’t fallen head over heels for someone via a few phone calls. Just as your hand touched the door, you heard it. Unmistakable and deadly.

Dead air.

And it wasn’t Eddie. It was the radio. You were certain that you’d set everything up correctly.

“What's wrong?” Eddie noted your hesitation, big brown eyes offering sincere concern.

“Dead air? I set everything up before we left. Everything was in order. It was all labeled and…”

“-it. Hello Hawkins. Just a… few technical difficulties. Mike! We’ll be right back with, uh, rock and stuff… for fu-”

“SH! The mic is on!”

“H-Here is… is… Foreigner! Yep. Foreigner!”

You heard the distinct click of the microphone, the silent buzz, and finally another track began to play. As your mind raced, shivers took over your arms and legs. Thoughts raced through your mind and frustration began to build, winding tightly into your shoulders.

“I’m gonna kill them.”

Eddie took the words right out of your mouth. You looked over to him and watched his lithe fingers rub circles into his temples. His brows knitted together. If you hadn’t been so irritated yourself, you would have allowed yourself to melt at the way he scrunched his face up in frustration. When he finally turned to look at you, an unmistakable blush had risen across his face. The thought occurred to you that he’d offered you a ride home so the boys could have a crack at the radio station. It didn’t make complete sense, as you would have allowed them to try if they’d asked, but you couldn’t help the worry.

With a weak smile, he threw that concern out the window, “I’m so sorry. I… well, it seems that the brats have taken it upon themselves to… help. I’ll kick the crap out of them if you want. This wasn’t part of the plan at all.”

“Plan?”

Eddie’s blush deepened. You could feel yourself begin to match, your cheeks setting afire. His sheepish smile did you in, “Well, I… oh man… I’d planned on surprising you after the sign off. Pull a whole dark and mysterious gentleman thing. I- uh, I’ve just really liked our calls and was thinking it’d be nice to spend time together in person. And-”

“And in true Dracula fashion, you somehow got me to do the asking out for you?” You teased.

“You asked me out?” Eddie looked shocked. Though, the glint in his eye told you he was just as in on the joke. You couldn’t stop your giggles. He continued, “But it seems the boys thought that we needed um… a better score for the evening. Decided to put on every romantic song you have in that closet it seems.”

“You really need that much help, Munson?” The teasing wouldn’t stop spilling out of you. You couldn’t help it. You were overflowing with a fondness that felt neverending.

“That depends…” He hopped out of the car, walking around to let you out. Eddie took his hand in yours and guided you slowly to your front door. You looked at the door with dismay before turning back to the much more interesting character beside you. “I had a really good time with you tonight y/n.”

The chill of the air brought your two figures together, huddled closely under the glow of a yellow porchlight. His dimples were back, situated just so next to his heartwarming smile. It was hard to look away, so you didn’t. Your sigh, however, was kept to the quietest possible release. Muffled singing could be heard just over his humming engine - the radio still playing love songs. You’d already forgiven the rugrats. It was easy to forgive almost anything with Eddie Munson holding your hands ever so softly. His thumbs swiped over your knuckles.

“I really like your jacket. I think I ought to get one just like it,” Eddie changed the subject. You suspected it was just an excuse to touch you more, his hands sliding along his jacket that hung over your shoulders. You didn’t mind at all.

“I’d give you this one, but I’m actually quite partial to it,” You beamed.

Eddie chuckled, head dipping down to look at your face more closely, “I can understand. You make it look good.” He was spurred on by your blush, suddenly gentle as he detailed your beauty. His voice, a whisper in the night, took hold of your chest and left you breathless. A calloused hand softly brushed your cheek, you leaning in to meet it with an unabashed certainty. “I’ve never looked forward to anything more than hearing your voice. I’m serious about not finding any other phone partners. I doubt I could make it a day without listening to you.”

“Now you’re just being nice.” You shook your head, “You can’t seriously want to hear me chat every minute of every day.”

“You’re right,” He grinned, mischievous as ever, “Sometimes I want to do this.” Smooth and steady, Eddie pulled you flush to his chest. One hand tilted your chin up to him, the other resting snug on your lower back. His lips brushed over yours, tentative and sweet. And then in one moment of impulse, you kissed him back. It was intoxicating to hold him. After weeks of being held only in conversation, the physical sensation sent tendrils of sparks dancing across your skin.

“Okay, full honesty, I may want to do that more than just sometimes,” He snickered, nose brushing up against yours as he pulled away. A smile spread across your face, wider than a mile. “But I should, uh, I should ask, would you like to go out with me? On an official date next time?”

“Oh Eddie,” You shook your head, unable to stop the teasing, “You know I only answer questions between five and seven pm.”

He laughed and you soaked it in. It was better than anything you played on the radio.

“Alright, alright,” He gave you a sneaky look.

“So… you’ll call me?” You grinned.

“Absolutely.”

You raised to your tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and nudging him towards his van. “Good, because I’m dying to answer.”

❄︎ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥 ❄︎

Kinktober fic 4: Eddie Munson ❄︎ Ice Play + Restraints

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!eddie, sir kink, ice/water used in a sexual context, temperature play, restraints, blindfolding, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (angel, babydoll), praise, pussy slapping, fem + afab reader, alcohol mention, slight crying but not really dacryphilia

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

Hawkins in October was usually the picture of a perfect autumn town, technicolor trees in striking fall shades lining the streets under gloomy gray-blue skies, but this year had been unceremoniously hot, and you were starting to feel like you’d somehow been transported to hell in Eddie’s tin can trailer.

You woke up from your short nap to find the sheets bunched up at the end of the bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat as the heat hit you. You rose to your feet, walking to the kitchen before grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip, the bottle cold in your hand as the cool water slid down your throat.

You sighed, dissatisfied with the heat as you walked towards the living room looking for Eddie, curious as to what he had been up to while you were asleep. He laid lazily across the couch, barely covered by a pair of plaid boxers and a loose black cut off tank he’d fashioned out of an old Dio tee shirt. He laid on his back, his legs spread slightly as he leaned against the arm of the couch, his skin covered in a light layer of sweat under the sunlight gleaming through the windows.

"Hey Edds." You sighed, bringing his attention away from whatever cheesy b-horror movie he’d popped into the vcr.

"How was your nap, babydoll?" He asked, flashing you a smile while setting the cold can of beer in his hand on the end table.

"Good, but I could’ve done without the heat." You answered, walking closer to him.

"Yeah, if it wasn’t for the neighbors I'd probably be walking around the house fuckin’ nude right now." He laughed, sitting up.

"I wouldn't mind that." You sat on the empty cushion next to him, warm blush gently rising over your cheeks.

"I'm sure you wouldn't." He laughed, canines peeking out from beneath his top lip as he smiled at you. He couldn't keep his eyes off of your body and before long he leaned into you, his hands on your hips as his lips met yours.

You threw your leg over his lap, straddling him before resting your arms over his shoulders, hand running lazily through his long dark hair.

The heat growing between you came to be too much, causing you to pull back slightly and sigh against his lips.

"God, it's too hot for this." You said, disappointed as you plopped back down on the couch, pouting.

He paused, thinking for a second before an idea presumably came to mind.

“I want to try something.” His words rang in your ears and your interest peaked, prompting you to follow him down the hall.

You turned the corner to the bedroom and he motioned toward his bed, hinting for you to lay down. You did as he silently asked, stripping yourself of your shorts and tank before laying down on the bed. He moved to the dresser, pulling out leather restraints from the drawer you kept your sex toys in.

You instinctively spread your legs and placed your hands above your head, eager to see where he was taking this. He secured your arms and legs to the bedposts, leaving you fully exposed for him before exiting the room. You waited patiently, wondering why he had left, a million thoughts running through your mind. Eddie could be mean, a bit more of a tease than you preferred occasionally, but he’d never left you tied up high and dry before.

When he returned, he held a bowl in hand, that familiar mischievous grin on his face, silently taunting you. You raised a brow at him, craning your neck to see what was in the bowl.

Ice water.

You gulped, watching the ice cubes float aimlessly in the water before looking back to him, unsure if you could handle the harsh cold against your most sensitive areas.

“Your pretty little cunt was getting too hot, gotta cool you down.” He set the bowl down beside your already trembling leg before landing a small slap against your inner thigh, enjoying the way your leg jolted underneath his touch.

He brought his hand to your cunt, middle finger prodding at your folds before withdrawing his touch and dipping his finger into the bowl. He swirled it around for a moment before bringing it to your clit, the cold contrast making you yelp.

“Just relax, angel.” He cooed, voice condescendingly sweet.

He brushed over your clit again, making your hips shift away as far as you could. He traced over your folds, applying a soft pressure as he went until he reached your dripping entrance.

He pulled away again, dipping his finger once more into the cool water before returning, experimentally pushing the long digit inside of you. The action drew a strained whimper from your throat, your walls instinctively clenching around him at the cold. He hummed in satisfaction, curling his finger up into that soft spot inside of you, your hips bucking softly against him in search of more stimulation.

“Not yet.” He chided, pulling his finger from you and giving your aching clit a harsh slap. You whimpered at the loss before crying out from the sharp contact, relaxing into the bed as you waited for his next move. He picked up a small cube, the edge of it more rounded from the time it had been floating, slowly degrading until it become one with the rest of the water. His hand hovered slowly up over your stomach, letting the ice drop teardrops of freezing water onto your hot skin until he’d reached your chest, your breasts glistening with sweat from the heat.

“Gotta make sure I cool all of your sensitive areas first babydoll.” He looked up at you through hooded yet concentrated eyes, determination in his stare. He wanted to break you, make you so sensitive you’d lose all sense of self preservation and beg him to fuck you in this heat, and he sure as hell was going to make that happen. He brought the melting ice to your left nipple, the bud instantly stiffening underneath the cold, your back arching up into his touch. Your moans were tired, the heat draining you, but you couldn’t stop yourself, your need for pleasure helping you push through the discomfort caused by the weather.

He circled your sensitive peaks, alternating between breasts until they were both covered in the cold runoff from the quickly disintegrating ice cube, your nipples peaked and sensitive to just the exposure to the air after the overstimulation he provided. You were practically panting, your mind slipping further and further away as he continued to tease, prolonging your delicious torture.

He brought his hand to hover above the bowl of ice water, fully submerging his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers before removing them and allowing the excess liquid to drip back into the bowl.

He used his free hand to spread your folds, giving him direct access as he pressed his ice cold fingers into you, his thumb meeting your clit as you let out the most pathetic mewl, the shock of the cold sending a wave of warmth through you.

The rough pad of his thumb ghosting over your aching bud was almost too much, barely any friction at all and yet you felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire. He moved his thumb slowly up and down as one would when painting, each stroke making you clench around his fingers, the coolness only making the warmth inside of you grow.

The only relief you got was each short-lived break he took to refresh the icy water on his fingers, and each moment was met with a bittersweet end as your fading sensitivity immediately peaked again at the chill.

He glanced up at you, noticing the way you stared down at him. Something flickered in his eye and he abruptly stopped, standing from his place and going back to the drawer. He pulled out a strip of satin before making his way back to you, resting his knee on the bed before leaning over, bringing the fabric to cover your eyes.

“You’re too distracted doll, I need you to be completely relaxed for me.” He explained, securing the silk behind your head. You nodded, laying your head back onto the pillow when you felt him move to the end of the bed. You were practically buzzing with anticipation, every inch of your body on fire as you waited for him to touch you again.

“I need to get more ice, I'll be back soon. I need you to be good for me while I’m gone.” with that he placed what was presumably the last chunk of ice on your skin just above your clit.

“Stay still until that has fully melted. If you move, the ice will fall and I will know, and I'll have to punish you. Understood?” His tone had dipped, something dark, almost truly threatening lacing his words

“Yes sir.” You whimpered, anchoring your hips against the bed to prevent yourself from moving as much as possible.

“That’s my girl.” He laughed, kissing your knee before the sound of his bare feet padding against the old carpet filled the room.

As the ice melted the cold liquid slipped down over your clit before seeping through your folds, intertwining itself with the warmth of your arousal. The stimulation was overwhelming and you found it increasingly difficult to stay still, feeling your thigh twitch and not a moment later your hips following, a tear slipping down your cheek as you felt the ice slide off of your body.

After a short while you heard his footsteps draw near, and you couldn’t hold back the tears threatening your waterline any longer. The disapproving sigh that left him when he stepped into the room made your lip quiver before a quiet sob escaped you, tears starting to soak the blindfold over your eyes.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cried, burying the side of your face into the pillow.

“I couldn’t control it, I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” You continued, muscles tensing.

His hand met your cheek, thumb rubbing softly over your damp skin. He pushed the blindfold up to your forehead, allowing you to finally look at him.

“You could never disappoint me, angel.” He whispered, smiling reassuringly at you. You sniffled, biting the inside of your lower lip. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, wiping away your tears before looking into your eyes again.

“But I still have to punish you, babydoll.” He said, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded, smiling to assure him you were okay. He pulled the blindfold back over your eyes before moving back between your legs, anticipation setting back in.

He brought his hand to your core, gathering your arousal on his fingers before pushing two of them inside, the friction causing a moan to flutter up from your chest. He pumped them slowly in and out for a moment before removing them and bringing them to your clit, rubbing soft circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.

You gasped as he eased one of the ice cubes into your cunt without warning, causing your walls to clench frantically around it. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, each clench of your walls earning a bit of friction, in contrast with the cold heightening your sensitivity to an almost painful level.

He withdrew his fingers, letting you anticipate his next move before bringing another harsh slap against your clit. You cried out, hips bucking away from him, only to receive another hit, his free hand finding your hip, holding you still.

“You need to learn how to stay still, angel. You don’t want to upset me, do you?” He questioned, laying another hit against your sensitive cunt.

“No, sir.” You whimpered, focusing on staying still for him.

He laid a few more hits against you, each one prompting the ice inside of you to shift, the melting liquid dripping onto the sheets as it slid from you.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He taunted, thumb rubbing against the apex of your thigh. You nodded eagerly, desperate to earn his affection once again.

“I don’t think so, give me a proper answer.” He corrected, laying one last hit against you.

“Yes!” You cried out in exhaustion, your thighs tensing as the ice water settled into the contours of your cunt. His lips met your thigh and you sighed, reveling in the soft sucks and kisses he gave you in a momentary show of affection.

“Now let's get back to beating the heat.” He quipped, that dorky smile plastered across his stubbled face.

His words sent a shiver down your spine and as he brought his thumb back to your clit you moaned, each cold stroke against you that much more intense from the newly perfect amount of pressure his digit applied to your sensitive bundle of nerves, turning you into a panting, moaning mess.

You knew how needy you sounded but you didn’t care as he brought his tongue down to your slit, pushing swiftly inside of you, lapping at the melting ice within. He moaned against your heat, sending vibrations through your core and you felt that familiar pressure begin to build in the pit of your stomach.

When you started to contract around him he withdrew his tongue and you groaned, upset that he’d denied you the orgasm you’d been searching for all this time.

“Be patient angel, or I won’t let you cum on my cock.” He said, and you heard the rustling of fabric, alerting you that he was finally moving to match your state of undress. You perked up at his words, waiting patiently for his next move.

He removed the blindfold before undoing the restraints on your wrists, thumb rubbing soothingly over the red marks they left on your skin. He positioned himself between your legs, hard cock resting against your thigh.

“Is it still too hot? Or do you want me to fuck you?” He taunted, wrapping his fist around his cock and pumping a few times, knowing how much watching him touch himself turned you on.

“Fuck me, please.” You whimpered, blush creeping onto your cheeks at how brazen all of this had made you.

“Whatever you want, babydoll.” He said, planting a kiss on your forehead as he positioned himself at your slick entrance. With one swift thrust he was seated fully inside of you, moans falling from both of your lips at the friction and lingering chill from the now-melted ice.

He fucked quickly into you, skin slapping skin hard enough to bruise and you felt that familiar spring coil inside of you again, all the teasing and edging leaving you beyond eager and desperate to finally find your release. You looked up at him, bringing your arms over his shoulders to pull him down to you, lips brushing with each deep thrust of his hips.

“I wanna cum sir, please-ah!, please let me cum.” You whined, interrupted by soft gasps earned by his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you.

“I’m almost there, angel. Just hold on a little longer.” He moaned, brow furrowed in concentration. He thrust faster into you, groaning as you scraped your fingers up his back, trying desperately to ignore the fire burning in your core to hold on for him.

“Eddie, please!” You cried, clawing at his skin as you waited for his approval.

“Go on, angel. Let me feel you cum around my cock.” He moaned, angling his hips up to slam into that soft spot inside of you, giving you that final push you needed to let the pleasure take over you, vision blurring as he swallowed your cries in an openmouthed kiss, nails digging into his back.

He came just moments later, spilling deep inside of you with a groan against your plush lips. He pulled out, brushing your hair away from your damp forehead before placing a kiss on it, sighing against your glistening skin.

“Such a good girl for me.” He mumbled, panting above you before rolling onto the bed next to you, his hand finding yours to lace your fingers together. Somehow, even in the middle of all this heat, you’d never felt more content.

—

tagging: @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesxangel @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @your-nightmaredoll @hellfire--cult @hellfiremunsonn @doomsdaybby @hippiegoth97 @myherometalhead

please message me if you’d like to be tagged in my future eddie munson fics or would like to be untagged!

This was the hottest thing ever omg I might die

Freak

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You can't get enough of Eddie's cock and he can't get enough of you.

Tags: 18+, rough sex, pwp, p in v, smut, dirty talk, praise kink, slight degradation kink, light anal play, rough oral sex (male receiving), crying during sex, fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Started this last night at 1 a.m. and my brain wouldn't let me sleep until I finished it, so, here it is. Also using this as my entry for @huffle-pissed’s Vibes and Valentines challenge (months late, I know, ‘cause I suck) where my prompt was, “You like it that much, huh?”, and that’ll be in bold. Thank you to my darling @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing! GIF is mine. Hope you guys enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

EDDIE MUNSON MASTERLIST | STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Jesussss fuck,” Eddie lets out, low and breathy as he watches you take him all the way in your mouth. You’re on your knees, thighs spread, topless, cheer skirt still on, and Eddie reaches down to brush some hair out of your face when you look up at him through your lashes, gentle and loving, like you’re not gagging on his cock. He grabs himself at his base with one hand before pulling back, and you release him with a soft ‘pop’. “Look at me, honey — good girl — let me see —”

You already know what he wants. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, keeping your lust-filled gaze on him.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he praises, tapping his cock on your tongue. He moves to drag it along your cheek and you start to follow it, hungry for more. He chuckles deeply. “You like it that much, huh? Jesus.” 

He seems enamored with you, almost, like he can’t believe this is real life even though you’ve sucked him off plenty. You nod eagerly in response and smile with your eyes, your mouth still open and waiting for him. 

“Shit, alright. God, you’re so good, baby,” he says, pushing himself into you again. You keep your eyes on his, tears forming in the corners of yours as his cock hits the back of your throat. “So, so good. ‘Course I’m gonna give you whatever you want when you look at me like that. Shit, are those tears, sweetheart?”

You nod around his dick, and you’ve got about 30 seconds left in you before you’re gonna need some air. You can feel the first few tears running down your face, and you know all too well what it’s going to do to him.

“Fuckin’ crying ‘cause you love my cock so much? Jesus — fuck.”

You take a deep breath through your nose when he finally pulls back, because you know what’s coming. 

“I’m gonna wreck that pretty little throat of yours. Would you like that, princess?”

You nod. Fucking please.

He smirks, grabbing a fistful of your hair, and then he’s thrusting into your mouth with abandon. The room sounds like the audio to one of Eddie’s porn movies — the ones that Steve sneaks him sometimes — gagging and panting and a dirty fucking half-choke, half-gargle coming from you every time he hits the back of your throat. Your mascara’s running, and you feel like you’re on a different fucking planet when he fucks you like this. Spit’s dripping down your chin, onto your skirt, and your arousal is definitely creating a wet spot on the floor where you’re sat. 

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” He accentuates the Lord’s full name with three hard final thrusts, pulling out of you completely, grabbing you by your wrist and yanking you to your feet before you can even begin to process what’s happening. He bends you over the bed and flips up your skirt, dragging his cock through your folds once, twice, before entering you with ease. His hand is still in your hair, and he’s pulling your head up off the mattress as he resumes fucking you. 

You whine, turning your head to the side and opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out, because as good as he felt, you needed something in between your lips. 

“Oh, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me. Fuck,” he pants, giving you what you want by placing two ringed fingers in your mouth.

You wrap your lips around them, sucking and humming contently, as he keeps thrusting into you hard and fast. 

“So fuckin’ greedy, baby. Need all your holes fuckin’ filled to shut you up, hm?” He takes his hand out of your hair and moves it down to your ass, his thumb dangerously close to your hole. “Is that what you want?” he continues. “Be fuckin’ plugged up?”

You nod frantically, managing a desperate, “mhm!” around his fingers. He slows down his thrusts for a few seconds, spitting onto your crack, dragging it down with his thumb and circling your hole. 

“Right there?” he teases, and you could start crying again with need. 

You manage something that sounds like a “please”, and it’s good enough for him. He resumes his brutal pace as he sticks his thumb in, and it’s just to the first knuckle, but it’s enough to send you into a near-delirious state. 

“Good girl,” Eddie praises, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “So fuckin’ good at being so fuckin’ dirty.”

You let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine, and he sinks his thumb all the way in in response. 

“That what you wanted? Jesus, you drive me crazy with your fuckin’ whining. Shit,” he speeds up his thrusts. “I give you everything you want and you still fuckin’ whine, you notice that?”

“‘m sorry!” you manage to cry out, full on sobbing now as his cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust; moments away from your release. 

“No, it’s alright, princess. Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

You shake your head, almost violently, accidentally ejecting his fingers from your mouth. 

“Please, please, please, please,” you chant through more sobs.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he pants. His thrusts grow faster and sloppier, and you know he’s close, too. 

“Please, can I come!? Eddie, please, let me —”

“Oh, fuck. You can come, sweetheart —”

You’re pretty sure the scream you let out echoes through the whole trailer park as your orgasm hits you like a fucking tidal wave. 

“Fuck, oh my God — shit, you’re too perfect, I can fuckin’ feel you — ohhh, fuuuuck.”

You’re not even halfway through riding out your high before you feel Eddie filling you up, and you wish you could bottle up the sounds he’s making and keep them forever. 

He falls over you moments later, and you whimper at the loss of his thumb when he uses his forearms on either side of you to keep himself from crushing you completely, placing soft kisses to your nape and shoulder blades as you find your breathing again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing another kiss there before mumbling, “I mean it. You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

You giggle sleepily, slowly coming out of your daze. “Hey, it’s not the worst way to go.” 

He chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate against your bare back. “Well,” he places a kiss on your temple, “can’t argue with that… You okay?” he asks, taking in your mascara-stained cheeks and the fucked-out look on your face.

“Mhm,” you reply dreamily. “Think I want ice cream. Throat’s sore… jaw’s sore.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You need to tell me if I’m being too —”

“I will, Eds,” you interrupt, before he can start feeling guilty, “But I like the ache, I promise.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head before kissing your temple again. “You’re such a freak.”

You smile. “And you love it.”

He nods. “And I love it.”

my tattoo artist went down on me (2k words)

paring: tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson offered to design a new tattoo for you, during the session things got a little heated.

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), oral (f recieving), fingering, squirting, some strong lanuage, and some cringey writing, if i missed any please let me know.

a/n: this is a super old draft from a few months ago so I hope you all enjoy <;3

feedback & criticism is very appreciated. please let me know if you have any thoughts on how I can approve. thank you :)

You stood outside the Munsons trailer, a tad bit nervous, but it is a normal feeling…especially when it comes to getting a new tattoo. But, the thought of Eddie Munson giving you said tattoo made your heart race even more…not that you didn't trust his tattooing skills…oh come on you didn't trust that boy's art skills at all.

All of a sudden the screen door of the trailer swings open, and there stood Eddie. Shirtless. Kind of sweaty. Messy curls as always. Slightly tighter jeans than normal. This look of his caught you off guard, rightfully so…it was a stunning look. “Are you just going to stand there like a creep?” He leaned his body against the door frame, crossing his arms while examining you.

Your mouth parted slightly like you were going to answer his question, but no words were coming out. All you wanted to do was stare at him. He knew. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He whispered as you stepped through the doorway of the trailer, those words sent shivers down your spine. “Come on, I have everything set up in my room.”

“You do know what you're doing right, Munson?” You teased as Eddie led you to his room down the hall.

“Well how else do you think I got these sweet ole’ tatties, huh?” He points at the bats on his arm, “This is my newest work, you like?”

“Not really my style…but they're cool.”

“You seem hard to please…” He mumbles to himself as he sits down in a rolly chair, then opening a sketchbook turning to the page with your design on it. You just wanted some simple roses on your thigh, not too much. “Does this look like what you had in mind, darling?” He really needs to stop with these pet names.

His artwork was actually…good. Surprisingly. “Oh my gosh, I love that!” You exclaimed. He rolls over to the edge of his bed and pats it motioning for you to sit down. The workspace area wasn't the greatest but hey…it’s more professional looking than others. A single towel sits on the edge of the bed, the tattoo gun with the ink caps on a random nightstand and a pair of normal gloves beside it. “Well, I’m glad you like it…hopefully I can draw the sketch again actually on your leg”

Eddie says as he pulls out a couple markers, biting the cap off of one and spitting it out onto the floor, he rolls himself over to you. Putting his knee in between your legs, “Now which thigh are we putting it on.” His pretty brown eyes look up at you as his free hand caresses the side of your right thigh.

“U-uhm…my right one. I want it…” You pointed to the upper thigh of your right leg, making a general circle motion around the area. “About right here.” He moved his hand to that spot, retracing that circle you had made. “So, you want it right here?” You gulped at his question, feeling the slight tension building in the room. “I guess you're going to have to take these things off so we can get started.” His finger moves from your thigh to your hip, pulling on the belt loop of your jeans. “I thought I told you to wear something short.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I had just gotten off work and -”

“Y/N, i'm only playing around…” Eddie chuckled as he pushed himself back, giving you some space to take off your jeans. “Unless, you like to be told what to do?” His eyebrow raised as he watches you stand up and unbutton your jeans.

“Maybe I do, Munson.” His eyes widen at your words. “Oh really…” Eddie's words lingered as he rolled over to you, your hips perfectly in line with his head. “Maybe…I can help take these off for you, sweetheart.” His hands moved up your legs to your hips, pulling down on your belt loops. Pulling down your pants slowly. The feeling of his hands against your bare skin sends tingles throughout your body. The cold metal from his rings sent chills. The intimacy was a bare minimum, but your body craved more.

“Sit back down.”

You listened. He grabbed the marker again and began to draw the rose design on your upper thigh. About thirty or some extra minutes pass and he’s done with the sketch. It looked just like what was in his notebook. “You ready?”

“I guess so…lay it on me.”

Eddie’s been tattooing for about an hour. The vibrations from the tattoo gun piercing your skin sends tingles throughout your entire body. Causing you to grip onto the sheets of his bed, tighter and tighter and tighter. Eddie notices. He moves his free hand to your opposite leg, gripping his hand in the skin of your soft thigh. “Do you need a break?” You shook your head to signal no, you were lying.

He pushed himself back slightly as he lifted the machine up from your skin, placing it on the table beside him. “I can tell you need a break…” His words faded off almost like he was going to say more, which made you curious. Your eyes met his. He uses the chair to pull himself closer to you, leaving you face to face, merely inches apart. “Maybe, we can do something else…instead.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” He pushes your body against the bed, now hovering over you. His finger pulls your chin up closer to his face, staring directly at your lips. You need him. All of him. You couldn't take the tease anymore, so, your arms wrap around his neck and pull yourself up to meet his lips. Clashing into each other. You wanted more. His lips trailed off yours, moving down to your chin, then your neck. Leaving a few marks on his territory. “Let me take this off of you.” He whines into the crook of your neck while pulling at the edge of your t-shirt. His hand starts pulling it up as you move with his movements finally taking it off. Exposing your bare chest.

Suddenly the heated makeout session paused. “Oh shit, I don't want you getting an infection with this thing being exposed. Stand up real quick.” He said as he stood up, reaching his hand out to help pull you up. He put a few layers of paper towels over the half-way done rose, taping the edges to your skin, making sure he doesn't make it too uncomfortable for you. “Does that feel okay?” You nodded at his question.

Eddie places a few soft and gentle kisses on your other thigh, getting closer and closer to you. You feel as his hand moves from the side of your thigh to palm your clothed pussy. His touch caused you to jump a tad, “Oh. Do you not want that?” He said as he looked up at you.

“N-No, I do, trust me. I want that.” You whined, practically begging for him at this point. A smirk grew on his face. Using his pointer he slid your panties over, running said finger down your pussy, “You’ve been this wet the whole time?” He sighed, “Fuck Y/N.” His pointer finger then enters your core, making slight pumping motions. Then pulling it out, putting his hands on your hips, his face directly in line with you.

“Take them off, please.” Your voice was breathy. Eddie wasted no time, pulling your hips closer to his face then using his teeth to drag your panties down your legs. Finishing taking them off using his hands. He stood up from the chair, towering over you, “Lay down on your back, bend your legs too.” He demanded.

You did just as he said, of course. Watching him get down to the right level, he threw your legs over his shoulder. His fingers danced around your entrance, sending pains to your stomach as the heat began to build. Your pussy was throbbing, craving for him to do something…literally anything. You weren't really an impatient person, but you just craved him. “Can you please do something Mun-”

You were cut off by him licking your cunt, tasting you from bottom to top. Sending you to throw your head back letting out a soft moan. Using his pointer and middle he spread your lips open even more, sticking his tongue into your core. Your hands reached between your own legs to his hair, yanking and pulling at his roots. “We’ll see if youre so hard to please…” He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations from his voice causing that heat to build even more in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie put his lips around your throbbing clit, while locking eyes with you. Your back pressed harder against the bed, he continued to lick and suck on your cunt, randomly pulling up to plant kisses on the inner thighs. His ringed hand rubbing up and down your thigh as the free fingers finds its way to your core again. His lips stayed on your clit as his fingers fucked your tight hole, his tongue dancing around your clit in circular motions. That intense feeling in the pit of your stomach gets warmer and warmer. “Eddie fuck!” You moan out, trying to catch your breath while he hasn't eased up one bit. “Are you already getting close sweetheart?” He whined as he pulled up from your pussy, removing his fingers from your center, “God, youre so fucking wet…” His hand reached up to your mouth, “Open for me…” His fingers that are covered in your juices enter your mouth, you take them deep, nearly down your throat.

He pushes your legs from his shoulders and plants them down to the bed, spreading your legs open further. Making his access to your pussy easier. “You can only cum when I tell you to, okay?” He says as he gets back down to your level, maintaining that intense eye contact still.

You nod, “O-Okay.” His tongue meets your core, in and out, circular motions, he then licks all the way up your cunt again taking in all your taste and juices. The feeling was incredible. He definitely knew how to use his tongue. He sucks on your bulging and throbbing clit again, using his pointer and middle to pound your hole again. Pumping them in and out. His free hand moved to your hip pushing you down deeper into the bed, the cold metal from his rings against the warmth of your skin. You were getting close, but he hasn't told you yet.

“Are you close, princess?” He moaned as he came up to catch his breath, how in the fuck did he know. “If you're close…you can cum.”

He didnt have to say anymore, “Eddie, fuck.” You cursed out as your head flung back, your chest rising up and down faster and faster. That warm pit in your stomach is nearly on fire. His fingers got faster and faster as they pounded into your core, “Cum for me baby…” he groans, your legs start to shake as an even more intense orgasm builds.

Then you did exactly what he said. As it snapped, you screamed, Eddie pulling his thick fingers from inside you, still pushing against your clit, a hard stream gushing forth. After a few moments, you are still shaken by the sensation. As his digits plunge into your dripping pussy,a few curses and moans of his name escape your lips, he pumps in and out a few more times before pulling them out and watching you squirt again.

“Fuck Y/N.”

“Shit Eddie, I am so fucking sorry.”

“No, I dont give a fuck about that.” His tongue licks off the excess cum dripping from your warm cunt. “That was fucking hot.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” You leaned down to his level planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Then let’s finish this tattoo.”

“Another round once I'm done?”

if you enjoyed please consider commenting or reblogging, it makes a huge difference ♡

Johnny and Joseph appreciation post because I love them ♡

strange love- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: eddie has a date, with someone who isn’t you. you’re less than thrilled about it

Warnings: ANGST, jealousy, unrequited love, eddie being clueless, cursing, mentions of vomiting, me knowing nothing about D&D (i’m sorry but it deserves a warning), eventual best friends!-to-lovers!

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: alright y’all this is the imagine i had talked about a few days ago and as someone who loves these kinds of fics, i’m quite proud of myself. also i apologize for my lack of knowledge about D&D, eddie would definitely be disappointed, but i had a friend read it over and he thinks it makes sense so we’re going with it! i hope you all enjoy :)- sava

part two

“Well hello everybody!” Eddie exclaims, scaring half the Hellfire lunch table with his presence. You hear groans and curses fill the table as Eddie laughs at the reactions he pulled from his friends. You just sit in the seat that’s located on the left of his, laughing at his usual antics, but curiosity begins to strike when you take a look at Eddie.

His face is bright and shiny, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he sits down with his lunch, pulling out some pretzels to munch on. You take in the other details about him, how his hair looks actually kept up and how he doesn’t reek of his usual pot smell, but of…cologne? You had no idea who it was that was sitting next to you, but it sure as hell wasn’t Eddie Munson.

“What’s got you so happy today, Eds?” You ask, nudging him with your elbow. He flashes you a big smile, pretzel bits showing along with his pearly whites. He looks adorable as ever.

“Well I’m glad you asked, sweetheart. I, Eddie Munson, have a date tonight,” he announces. Your heart does a summersault at the nickname, his nickname he always uses on you, before you fully process the second part of his statement, making your breathing stop for a moment. What the fuck?

You didn’t make this fact known, but you were crushing on Eddie…hard. The two of you have been close since your middle school days, having really connected with his band Corroded Coffin playing at the school talent show and approached them afterwards to share your appreciation. It’s been history ever since.

But it wasn’t until your freshman year of high school when you started crushing on Eddie. You had been having a hard time at home due to your parents divorce, and your father winning full custody meant you moved into the same trailer park Eddie and his Uncle Wayne lived in, the two of you growing closer than before now that you only lived a few doors down. You and Eddie would spend most of your nights together anyway, and one particular night your freshman year, you felt these butterflies flutter around in your stomach as your head rested against Eddie’s shoulder watching Sleepaway Camp, your and his favorite movie that you’d watch at least once a month together. Since that day you had kept your feelings hidden from him, not wanting to ruin things between you and your best friend. You thought the pain of not having him in your life at all outweighed the pain of being stuck in love with him, and that was a fight you’d be willing to battle.

“W-what? W-with who?” You ask, trying to cover up your slight stutter with a cough.

“Okay so you remember our latest show at the Hideout? Well with more and more people starting to show up as of recently, we’ve been getting some fans. And this girl, her name is Shirley, gave me her number and I thought ‘What the hell?’ and rang her up yesterday,” he explains to you and everyone at the table, the freshman not being able to help their curious little selves. 

“That’s cool Eds,” you reply back, trying with all your willpower to remain neutral and shove the emotions you were actually feeling down deep inside.

“Yeah. We’re actually hanging out after Hellfire. She even said she might swing by, she’s been curious about the game a little. At least, that’s what she told me,” he tells you, causing you to drop your fork and look at him. He shoots you a weird expression at your reaction.

“Oops, sorry. But uh, I thought you weren’t allowing non-members into the meetings anymore?” You ask, your eyebrow raised.

“That’s true, but, as Dungeon Master, I’ll make an exception this one time. Who knows, maybe she could become an honorary member. She’s really cool, Y/N. You’d get along with her great,” he tells you as he clasps his hand on your shoulder. 

“I seriously doubt it,” you mutter lowly, hoping your close proximity to Eddie didn’t allow him to hear. As if a saving grace occurred, the lunch bell rang and you jolted up from your seat, collecting your trash. You could see Eddie eyeing you from your peripheral. One thing there is about Eddie, he’s observant as hell. You’d usually applaud and commend it, but in cases where you were trying best to hide your feelings, you absolutely hated it. Sometimes you wondered how you were able to get away with him not knowing how you truly felt, but all the more relieved that he didn’t.

“Hey sweetheart? Is everything okay?” He asks you. You quickly turn to him with a slight smile and nod, before rushing towards the trash can that sat behind him.

“Yep, all good. Just gotta go tend to some newspaper stuff. I’ll see you at Hellfire!” Your words moving as fast as your legs as you bid the table goodbye until your meeting tonight, practically sprinting towards the newspaper room, where you’d spill your feelings to one Nancy Wheeler in your secluded gossip corner.

Nancy was one of the only people who knew about your crush on Eddie. The two of you have been super close since you started high school, and even more so with all the shit that’s happened with the Upside Down that started when the two of you were sophomores. Plus, with her brother now joining the Hellfire Club, she asked you to keep an eye on him, especially with everything that’s already happened in Hawkins, but you really didn’t blame her for that.

Stumbling down the hall with your backpack sliding off your shoulders, you open the doors to the newspaper room and see Nancy’s head pop up from her collaborating with Fred. You walk down the stairs calmly while giving her a pleading look, nodding your head towards the corner the two of you have your major discussions at. She gives you a small nod before returning to her conversation with Fred.

You unpack your bag and begin working a bit on the paper while you wait for Nancy. You were trying your best to remain calm, focussing on your breathing so you didn’t get worked up more than you were when you started talking with Nancy. Your mind had a habit of working against you, running a hundred miles a minute coming up with the absolute worst scenario of every situation you encountered. You didn’t need to be thinking doubtfully about your friendship with Eddie, but you physically couldn’t help it.

How could Eddie have a date with someone and not tell you sooner?

The two of you were best friends, he always told you when something great happens to him immediately after, and you do the same with him. Living just a few doors down, you had that luxury of always being near the person when you celebrate your wins, or comfort one another in your losses. So him keeping this from you until the next day? It definitely hurt, in more ways then one, and you didn’t quite understand it. Would you still be upset about it? Absolutely, so that bit didn’t matter much. You just wanted to know why. Why he’s choosing to date someone now, after being single for so long. Why he-

“Hey, I’m here. Sorry, I was working with Fred on the basketball story,” Nancy tells you, pulling you out of your zoned-out state.

“No worries,” you say, your voice residing somewhere distant. You feel a slight kick come from under the desk, prompting you to look down for a second, before bringing your eyes up to see Nancy, who shoots you a look of concern. Nancy too, was very observant, from what you’ve seen over your friendship the past three, nearly four, years. The people you surrounded yourself with the most were some of the most observant people in Hawkins, which was both a blessing and a curse. You sigh, turning slightly closer to her, ready to confess.

“Eddie has a date tonight,” you whisper softly. You watch her jaw open, as shocked as you were. At least, hoping in the same sense that you were, and not in a negative way. You never really knew about Nancy’s stance on Eddie, whether she liked him or not. The way you talk about him all the time you would think she’d be sick of it all, but never stopped you from spilling your secrets out to her.

“No way! With who?” She whisper-yells, scooting closer to you. You watch over her shoulder at Fred and some others looking your way, so you fake working on a spread, signaling Nancy to do the same.

“Some girl that came to their gig at the Hideout on Tuesday. I didn’t see it so it must’ve been when I went to the bathroom,” you continue to tell her while fake focusing on the piece of paper in front of you. Your entire demeanor suddenly became deflated, saying it aloud and hearing it from yourself. All becoming so real.

“That’s crazy. Are you okay, Y/N?”

“No, but what can I do about it? He and I aren’t dating, so I have no room to say who he can or can’t date,” you answer. You peak over at her and see her looking you dead in the eye, to which you couldn’t blame her. Even you didn’t believe what you were saying.

“Yeah, I know. He said she might stop by Hellfire, and, Nance, I have no idea how I’m supposed to get through the meeting tonight if she’s there,” you tell her. She reaches out and squeezes your hand and you give her a tight-lipped smile. 

“Hey, if you think it’ll help, I can pick you up from Hellfire tonight and we can chill at my house for a sleepover. Junk food, distractions…I can even invite Robin and see if she’ll pick up some tapes after her shift at Family Video tonight,” Nancy suggests. You eyes widen in excitement and nod, truly needed a night where you don’t talk or think about Eddie. Just a night with your girls.

“That would honestly be the best, thank you Nance,” you tell her. She flashes a warm smile your way and scoots a bit away from you.

“Perfect. I’ll pick you and Mike up at 9 after I get Robin from her shift, if she’s free. It’ll be fun,” you tells you. You agree and continue working on your spread, excitement flowing through your body at the thought of a fun night ahead, even with the dread buried in the pit of your stomach at the thought seeing Eddie tonight at Hellfire with a woman at his side. A woman that wasn’t you.

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

Running down the halls and towards the room behind the theater, you look at your watch and try to pick up the pace. You had lost track of time in your efforts in avoiding Eddie by doodling some drawings in the sketchbook that you kept on you at all times, which in turn made you late to Hellfire, something you never did. But in your defense, you usually had Eddie giving you a ride to and from the meetings. Today was not like the rest. Walking through the threshold of the meeting room, you give yourself a few moments to catch your breath.

“Sorry I’m late, I-“ you began to say, but were interrupted by giggling coming from Eddie’s throne. You see a girl with strappy heels and a short, short dress leaning against it playing with Eddie’s brunette fringey curls. That must be Shirley.

“Oh good, you’re here. We almost started without you,” Dustin exclaims, his goofy smile appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I doubt it,” you tell him, throwing your bag in the seat closest to him and ruffling his hair, him protesting and swatting at you in return. You notice out of the corner of your eye Eddie giving you a confused look, then looking towards your usual seat, which remained empty. It was no secret that you had your own seat in Hellfire, right next to the Dungeon Master himself, but today, you knew it was best to keep your distance. Didn’t want to interfere with his date and all. 

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Eddie pauses, giving you a look. You chose to just look at the table in front you to avoid eye contact. “Lets start.”

Dustin is the first to roll the dice, and everyone around watches as the campaign for the week begins. You try your best to pay attention to the game in front of you, but keep getting distracted by the amount of giggling coming from Eddie’s throne, due to himself and Shirley. They were acting like those couples you and Eddie would make fun of in the halls that were practically fucking in the halls of Hawkins High, and you’d always make fake sick sounds as you passed by them. Now that he’s acting those same people right in front of you and the rest of the club, you felt yourself growing sick, for real this time. 

You stood to the side as you watched Shirley climb in Eddie’s lap, draping herself all over him and her lips ghosting over his ears as she whispers little things in his ears, and the reactions he gives to her words make you want to punch a wall. Not in anger, but in jealous. The green eyed monster had awoken inside you, and you felt yourself getting riled up at the thought of them continuing this act throughout the rest of the meeting. The worst part of it all? You knew this isn’t where the night ended for them, and you could only imagine what other kinds of plans they had up their sleeves.

“Y/N, you’re up,” Mike whispers to you, snapping you out of your small jealousy-induced trance. You take the dice from Gareth and shake the dice in your cold hands a few times, before tossing them on the table.

6.

You didn’t have enough health to pull any big moves. No luck to play the hero tonight. You sigh and slump your shoulders as the rest of the group lets out an annoyed groan. You were completely off your game for the night and you knew with how observant the club was, they could tell. But luckily for you, they didn’t press you about any issues you may be having. 

“What’s your move, Lady Y/N?” Eddie asks you, his smug look making your skin crawl. Usually his dramatics during the game always wowed you and you’d join in, but it was hard to take in anything he was saying or doing with the leech that was attached to his hip.

“I…retreat,” you say, taking a step back from the table and Mike is quick to take the dice and roll for himself in order to save the campaign. You walk over to the seat you set your stuff in and take the sketchbook out you’d been busy with before the meeting and begin to draw.

“Do you know where the closest bathroom is, rockstar?” you hear Shirley ask. You mentally groan.

“Sure thing. Y/N, can you show her where it is?” Eddie asks, turning to you. You place your sketchbook back in your bag and stand from your chair. Flashing Eddie a fake smile, you nod and begin to walk towards the door, the sound of Shirley’s heels clicking behind you filling your ears.

The halls are quiet as you make your way to the bathroom around the corner. 

“So you and Eddie, you’re best friends right?” Shirley asks you as you continue your journey to the bathroom.

“Yep, since middle school,” you answer.

“Oh that’s cool! I’m gonna be honest, I was a little worried when Eddie told me he had a girl best friend. I always think guy girl friendships are weird and don’t last. They usually always end up dating in the end or ending the friendship because one likes the other, and the other doesn’t feel the same way. At least, that’s how I see them,” she rambles. You slowly nod and point out the bathroom, her thanking you and doing a fake little run inside.

Pressing your back against the wall outside the bathroom, you can’t help but think on the words she said, the thoughts of you and Eddie ending your friendship lingering and seeping into every fiber of your body. It’s the exact reason you kept your feelings deep down and hidden, but would that work out in the end? Are you putting yourself through the pain and heartache for nothing?

The bathroom doors opens once more and she comes out.

“Thanks for waiting for me. I’m really excited to hangout with Eddie after your club ends,” she tells you. 

“What exactly do you two have planned?” You ask, your curiosity getting the best of you. Part of you didn’t want to know, but your brain was screaming at you to find out.

“Nothing special. We’re gonna go back to his place and hangout, maybe smoke some. He also mentioned something about watching a movie…Sleepaway Camp? Have you heard of it?”

You froze.

Did she really just say that?

She stops and turns to you, giving you a look of concern. You felt the world around you starting to spin, the feelings from everything starting to come up.

“I-um, I’m sorry, but I-I’m not feeling too great right now. The theater’s in there, but I’m gonna go outside and get some air. C-Can you tell someone to bring my stuff out to me when everything ends?” You ask, your voice shaking as you lean against the wall for support. She gives you a nod and scurries inside the theater, leaving you to bolt out the doors of the school and towards the parking lot. 

You bent over and held onto the railing by the stairs that spilled out into the parking lot, convincing yourself you needed to wretch. The feelings clouding your brain were mixed, swirling together in a nasty mixture that you weren’t sure how you’d describe to Nancy and Robin. The feels of hate and sadness blurring the lines and becoming one as you stood outside, wishing you had your jacket to protect your from the harmful feelings and the cool March temperature. 

Sitting on the stairs with no luck on spewing your guts out, you let out a sigh and hug yourself in a pathetic attempt to warm up a bit. Your body grew cold rather easily, something that was always an issue, but the solution, or rather the two, were inside. You kept your jacket on you at all times, even despite the temperature being hot, because you never know when you might need it. In the event you forgot your jacket, Eddie would either lend you one of his, or just wrap himself around you, rubbing your arms with his big ring-clad hands to get you in a good place. You always welcomed that comfort. It felt nice being so close to him, even if he may not feel the same.

Your pity party is interrupted by a car pulling into the lot and parking right by the stairs. As the window rolls down, you see Robin pop her head out in a cheerful manner, but soon her features soften when she takes in your sour expression and sad body language. 

“What happened?” Nancy asks from the driver seat. You rise to your feet with a sigh and walk over to the car, leaning inside through the window.

“More like what didn’t happen,” you respond, shaking your head and shrugging. 

“Did that girl show up? Nancy filled me in on everything when she picked me up, so I have a ton of movie choices for tonight,” Robin rambles.

“Yeah she showed up. And they were being gross and lovey-dovey all night. Made me want to puke,” you explain. You feel Robin’s hand touch yours in an attempt to comfort you, to which you place your other hand on top of hers and give it a pat.

“And what prompted you to be out here instead of inside?” Nancy asks. 

“Well first off-“ you begin, but hear laughter coming from behind you as the school doors open. You turn and see everyone laughing and walking together, the meeting drawing to an end for the week and you let out a soft sigh. Everyone goes in different directions, with Jeff, Gareth, and Dustin going off in one direction, Eddie and Shirley going towards their van, and Lucas and Mike coming towards you guys. Mike nor Lucas had your bag in their hands, which made you worried that you’d have to go all weekend without your supplies and homework.

“Wait, Y/N, where’s your stuff?” Robin asks. You shrug your shoulders and turn to the side, Eddie standing by Nancy’s car. You see his unreadable demeanor comes closer to you, his eyes fixed on yours as he holds out your bag to you. Taking it, you sling it over your shoulder and slide over as he kept walking closer to the window you once hung out of.

“Wheeler, you might if I borrow Y/N for a sec before you take off?” He asks. You watch Nancy nod and Eddie leads you over away from her car, out of ear shot of both Nancy and that crew, and Shirley, who’s waiting at Eddie’s van. You both just look at each other for a moment, you not really knowing what to say.

“Thanks for grabbing my-“

“What’d I do?” He asks you, his voice sounding neutral. You look towards the ground and swing back and forth on your feet for a moment, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for your behavior today.

“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes glued to the ground.

“You can’t even look at me, Y/N,” he says, looking down to try and catch your eyes. You let out a huff and look back up at him, trying to get this conversation over with, which was something you never wished with Eddie.

“There’s nothing wrong, okay? I promise,” you tell him. Now it was his turn to huff, added with a kick to the ground. You could see that you’re irritating him, and if you were him, you’d be irritated as well. But today was not your day, you just needed time away from him and try to bury the feelings you had towards him even further down. Take the weekend and recoup. Not to mention, his date was merely a hundred feet away and waiting for him to go back to your place and watch a movie together. Your guys’ movie.

“Y/N, please, I know you better than anyone. Can you please ju-“

“Eds! Are we going soon?” Shirley yelled from the van.

Ouch.

She just used your signature nickname for him.

What else did they plan on taking from you today?

“Soon sweetheart, I promise,” Eddie yelled back.

Double ouch.

Now he was using your signature nickname.

“You know what Eddie, just go, she’s waiting on you. Have fun watching Sleepaway Camp,” you tell him. Shit, why’d you just say that.

Your mind was starting to think before your mouth, the feelings that have been brewing the entire day bubbling to the surface and taking over the part of your brain that had rational thinking. That green-eyed monster was started to show her true colors. You turn on your heel and begin to take off towards Nancy’s car, when you feel Eddie grasp your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait, Y/N, how’d you know we were watching Sleepaway Camp? Did she tell you that?” He asks. You sigh and shift towards him.

“Yeah, we talked in the hall. But it’s not big deal Eddie, just go,” you say, not understanding why he was so determined to make things right between the two of you right now? Yeah, the two of you hated leaving things in a bad place, but you never pressed him about anything he was super upset about or just didn’t feel like talking about, and usually he was the same with you. Maybe today was not destined to be in the cards for you after all.

“You’re jealous,” he says matter-of-factly. You scoff and cross your arms, trying to add another layer of defense between you and your fragile heart that was about to break loose with all these feelings. You were starting to lose your resolve, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to hold yourself together.

“I am not jealous!”

“You are totally jealous! Jealous that I’m spending time with someone, a girl, who isn’t you. Don’t worry, Y/N, you aren’t being replaced, I’ll always make time for you,” he tells you, thinking he’s helped, when really, it only hurt more. Like he thought he’d have to pencil you into his life.

“It’s not that Eds-“ you begin to say, but his laugh cuts you off.

“Then what is it then? You mad you don’t have a ride? Or-or-or upset that we’re watching Sleepaway Camp?” he pesters you. You could feel yourself getting really worked up and uncomfortable, wanting to just jet off to Nancy’s car and ride far away from this conversation.

“Oh wait, do you like me or something Is that it? Do you have a big ol’ crush on me?” He asks mockingly, making you freeze. “Just tell me what’s wrong Y/N, please.”

You hesitate.

Fuck.

You. Fucking. Hesitate.

“N-no, I don’t have a crush on you,” you say, brushing it off with a weak laugh. You see Eddie himself freeze, looking at you with a deadpan expression. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Wait, Y/N…you have a crush on me?” he asks. That was definitely an understatement. You swallow down a breath that wasn’t able to escape, your body beginning to shake in fear.

You see the way his entire demeanor changed when he realized. The dramatics you so desperately loved stopped all together, replacing it with a scared look. Scared that it’s true and he had to let you down? Scared that he didn’t feel the same way? Scared it was you, of all people? That familiar feeling of wanting to throw your guts up began to boil in the pit of your stomach, your chest tightening as you continued to stare Eddie down like a dear caught in headlights, the silence booming throughout the parking lot. You couldn’t handle this, not tonight. You’ve already had the shittiest day possible, you need to escape before you lose your best friend forever.

You take off in the opposite direction, towards Nancy’s car as you hear Eddie calling after you. The tears were brimming your eyelids, desperate to fall and let every emotion you’ve been bottling up all day to come out in a flood. You open the car door and hop inside, practically shoving Mike in the middle.

“Drive Nance,” you say, shooting them a pleading look.

“Wait, Y/N, what happened?” Robin asks.

“Nancy, can you please drive away, now,” your voice raising as you plead. Nancy responds by changing the gear and stomping her foot on the gas pedal, making your escape out of the parking lot and away from Eddie Munson, who you can see still standing in the empty lot watching you leave. You let out a shaky breath as you turn and face out the window, hot tears rolling down your cheeks and sobs racking your body as you all make the journey to the Wheeler’s house.

i hope y’all enjoyed! comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! :)

Edward Munson my beloved

(What sharp teeth he has...)

Just watched the movie "warm bodies," and I feel like it would make for an interesting steddie zombie au

Like you've got zombie Eddie and like scavenger Steve, Eddie sees Steve and thinks he's absolutely gorgeous, and helps save him from the other zombies.

Idk something like that

I really want to do a Eddie Munson x transgender Y/N but Y/N will be my oc Luka James Harrington if your interested pm me asap I'm bored XD

Let me convince myself that all the people that have been killed in the upside down, or due to upside down related problems are alive in the upside down and just unconscious or something. And that they’ll all come back when El finally stops it all.

I had the funny thought of a soulmate au in which you can hear your soulmate’s thoughts specifically when they think about you, so you what their thoughts regarding you and whatnot, very cute could be very funny.

But I imagine Steddie still in high school. Steve not really thinking about Eddie in particular besides the occasional passing “what is he doing on that table”, “I wonder if he is selling after school today” and once a “that’s a cool jacket” which leaves Eddie on a high for the rest of the week.

Steve in the other hand keeps hearing the most raunchiest, horny, things imaginable sitting in class like “this girl wants to do what to my ass???”

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

I love only child Steve Harrington, but how about I suggest something else that's really angsty? Stay with me here, please.

CW Ahead: Death of a Sibling, Grief/Mourning, Minor Suicidal Ideation, Steve's Sacrifices to Prove Self-Worth

Steve Harrington had a twin. They were identical.

They'd chase each other around in the Indiana sun, when it was at its lowest, grass green in the field, lightning bugs about. Barefoot in the backroads, dust particles, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Riding their bikes up and down their street, seeing who could go faster. Swimming laps in the pool, trying to beat the other.

Their parents are happy. A good marriage. Lovely kids. Living that smooth, good life.

Both of them super young when it happens. He and his twin are roughly...12? 13? Middle school age.

It's another summer night. No school. Not a care in the world. The Harrington family go out of town for a lake house vacation. Steve and his twin swim laps and laps around in the lake.

They've got beach toys, playing in the very little amount of sand. Then, Steve accidentally drops his little plastic shovel into the water. It sinks, or at least begins sinking. His twin tells him to stay out of the water, that he'd go down and retrieve the shovel. His twin had the better swimmer's lungs after all.

But then thirty seconds pass. Forty-five...a whole minute.

Bubbles come to the surface. The water rippling like somebody's thrashing. And then...nothing.

Of course, Steve runs up to the lake house to get his parents. To get help. But he was too late. He couldn't save his brother.

After this, he can't even look himself in the eyes. Can't look into a mirror. After this, his parents grow distant from him. They leave more and more frequently, leave him alone in his guilt. Affairs and arguments...it all happens too frequently now. Steve keeps to himself. He's quiet and weird. Barely has any friends. Won't talk about that summer evening. Won't consider going around a lake again.

But...but then he goes to high school. He tries out for the swim team, just to give himself something to do. It made his dad pay attention to him. It made his parents stay. It made a small part of him proud, when he did good at his meets, when he was eventually given the co-captain spot. He worked as a lifeguard over the summers.

Barb goes missing from his backyard. He isn't aware that she was dragged through the pool. Didn't see it, never knew.

Nancy lives with the same sort of guilt that Steve did. But Steve only knows one way of coping: moving on. Busying his brain with stupid things: drinking and partying and sports and other things that seem meaningless. He seems fine, doesn't he? It's not like he's weighed any of the shit he's been through.

(He is. He won't tell anybody this.)

Dustin asks for his help that one day, the same age as Steve's twin brother was—will forever be. And Steve knows, even if he accepts reluctantly at first, that this is his duty. It's what's going to prove that he can care, that he isn't fucked up over this thing that happened, that he can do better.

Helping where he can, that's what makes him proud. Being somebody to step in, to throw themselves at the danger rather than letting anybody else experience it.

And then Lover's Lake.

He hasn't been out on a lake, not even dipping his toes in the water since the incident. But when it comes down to it, to the group he's sitting on that rickety boat with, he knows he must. He must prove that he can help, that he can swim best, that he can use his skills for good; rather than sitting by, almost uselessly.

He's being dragged back under the surface, something wrapped around his ankle. He's panicking, of course he's panicking—there's questions and broken sentences flashing through his brain: did this happen to him? is this what he felt like? am I going to die like this, too?

For half a moment, he expects to die. He's ready to die. Like maybe dying will break him free from the guilt he's been carrying. Like a cycle will be reset.

He's relieved when he doesn't drown.

Yet, when that demobat releases his throat and he can get enough oxygen to focus on his surroundings, he sees all the others around him in the Upside Down. And he's furious. Furious that they had to go after him, to save his sorry ass. Because, again, he's put himself in a position of complete uselessness.

Always the one needing help, needing to be saved.

He'd rather do it alone. Rather be the bait, the hook line and sinker.

And when the fight is over, when Dustin loses Eddie...

Steve sees himself in Dustin's eyes. Helpless, scared, vengeful—

Guilty.

He considers his new duty to be to actually help Dustin's guilt. To try and make it better. But he's fucking it up, he constantly fucks it up. Just like he did with Nancy. He still can't look himself in the eyes.

Not without seeing his brother's face. Not without seeing scars where he failed to fully protect. Not without seeing Dustin's guilty, angry gaze. Not without seeing himself.

And somewhere along the lines, he knew his self-worth was low. But it's even lower. Like it was when he lost his brother; it shouldn't have been his brother. It shouldn't have been Eddie. It should've been him.

But he doesn't tell anybody this revelation he has. He continues on, life normal, trying to be helpful where he can. No matter how little, no matter how much he must sacrifice.

————

Another version here:

Dustin is guilty because Eddie got so injured, but Eddie's saved by Steve. Steve makes it his only mission in that moment to resuscitate Eddie—he learned CPR after his brother died just in case, he's thankful for his anxious self-nagging.

But Dustin is still guilty and Steve still sees himself.

And Eddie's trying to reassure both of them, but nothing seems to get through. He's the only one who can really see through Steve's cracks, he ends up not liking what he's seeing. Under the surface, Steve is just hollow. Not hollow like he's dumb or boring or unimportant. Hollow like there's nothing keeping him tethered, nothing fulfilling him, nothing to keep him satiated and happy.

Under the surface, Eddie sees a version of a man he doesn't really know. He sees Steve constantly fighting a mental battle, some sort of self-worth argument, some prattle with his own thoughts. He sees a man barely living; he sees a man willing to die for anything.

Again, he ends up not liking what he's seeing.

AU where Eddie is supplementing his music aspirations with a job at the grocery store and he’s crushing hard on a customer that comes through his line with increasingly weird grocery combos.

Gareth thinks he’s doing it on purpose as some kind of joke. Jeff thinks that Eddie should just ask the guy out. Grant, Eddie’s usual bagger, disagrees, “Uh, last week, Hot Guy bought thirteen pounds of raw meet and rope. We sure he’s not a serial killer?”

This sets up an argument crowded around Eddie’s register that’s usually reserved for the break room. His friends weigh the pros and cons of dating a crazy person while Eddie watches Hot Guy realize that his line is busy and walk to another register.

He’s has nothing but a pack of nails, hairspray, and a tomato in his basket.

Eddie mourns his bi-weekly interaction.

While Eddie is living it up in a workplace romcom, Steve is fighting for his life with a group of pre-teens determined to get themselves killed saving the world.

Steve will drop lore on Eddie in this ‘everybody knows this, catch up’ kinda way when it painfully clear that everybody absolutely did not know this.

Like, Eddie asks Steve to move his chair so he can slide passed him like three time in the middle of a party at the Byers and is being ignored. Finally, he’s like, “Ground control to Major Asshole. Can you hear me?”

Steve’s only notices him because he kicks his chair in the process and is like, “Oh, sorry, man. Gotta talk on my other side. I lost my hearing on this side.”

Which, great.

Eddie feels like an asshole but he can actually put that to the side because the whole table is just like, “…what? Since when?”

“Um…” Steve says, like. Yeah. This is common knowledge. “Two years ago?”

One time in the middle of the summer, Eddie is ogling the freckles across Steve’s shoulders at a pool party when Steve yawns. Eddie jokingly asks if teaching Robin to drive tired him out that much and Steve’s like, “Nah, I had a seizure this morning. Those tire me out for days. It’s so annoying.”

“Woah,” because Eddie didn’t even know that was something on their radar. Neither did Nancy judging by the whole plate of hotdogs she just dropped on the ground.

Steve causally mentioned that he didn’t have his appendix anymore a couple weeks after they closed the gate officially. Eddie asked when he had the surgery expecting an answer to be when he was a kid, but Steve gives him a weird look like, “Uh, couple weeks ago.”

“A couple - what?” Jonathan sputtered from across the room. “A couple weeks ago, we killed Vecna.”

“Yeahh???” Steve rolled his eyes. “And then I had my appendix taken out. That’s what happens when you’re stabbed.”

“You were stabbed?!?”

“C’mon, man. You were there. Keep up.”

Eddie is shut up mid-sentence by lips against his and, wow. Whoa. Steve Harrington kissing him right now and Eddie should definitely kiss back but, “You like guys? I’ve had a chance this whole time?”

“I’m literally bisexual.”

Look, Eddie’s not in love with the fact that one of his new little sheep is Steve Harrington’s number one fan, but he’s got to give Dustin credit.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie says at their nearly silent lunch table. “You want Steve Harrington - King of Conformity - to come to Hellfire.”

“Just until he gets the heaters in in his car fixed,” Dustin replies. He doesn’t even do Eddie the decency to look intimidated. “Otherwise, I got to leave exactly at six. It’s too cold for him to sit out in his car for hours and he’s my ride.”

Eddie has the flicker of an idea run through his mind and does the opposite of what he should. He says, “Fine.”

There’s a knock on the door a little after five and then there he is. The king gracing them with his presence, flashing a peace sign to them and taking a seat in the corner. And yeah. That won’t do.

Eddie reaches over and grabs the chair, pulling Steve closer to him and announces, “Meet the hostage, boys.”

Eddie rambles over Steve’s protest, laying the groundwork to build an hero’s journey upon. He describes the captive, where they’re at, what they’re doing which is - “Nothing, because our pretty, pretty princess is tied to a chair and-“

He snaps the ring of a handcuff around Steve’s wrist and then the other cuff to one of the rungs in his chair. He smiles at Steve, “-and can do nothing about it.”

And then Steve promptly has a panic attack.

Eddie has never sold to Steve Harrington.

He has never nor will he ever sell to Steve Harrington. Sure, he sold to Steve friends who probably give him the drugs but that’s rich boy money.

And sure, Steve has never actually tried to buy from him but it’s the principle of the matter. Which is what makes this so interesting because, “Harrington?”

“Hey.”

Steve has been MIA from school for the past week and Billy has been telling everybody that he beat him to death, and well. It certainly looks like he gave it a good effort. So really.

What’s Eddie supposed to do here? Uphold his morals?

“Can I…help you?” Eddie asks, opening the screen door for him.

Steve hobbled insides and immediately asks, “You sell stuff, right? Whatever anybody wants, you got it?”

“That’s what they say. Got something in mind?”

“Sleep.”

“What?”

“I need - I just need sleep,” Steve says, words fast and a little desperate. “I can’t sleep at my house, man. I can’t. It’s - god, it’s been four days and my head is killing me. I - I feel like I’m going to die. I need sleep.”

Eddie just stares at him, blinking slowly because it doesn’t actually sound like Steve is asking for drugs. It sounds like he’s scared to have his guard down at home so, “Yeah, okay. Um, take the couch.”

Steve is asleep almost as soon as he sits down and when he wakes up a couple hours later, he gives Eddie ten bucks and leaves.

Eddie kinda thinks it’s going to be a one-off situation but a couple weeks later, Steve is back. He only ever sleeps for a couple hours, pays Eddie, and goes.

The only changes are that he eventually graduates from sleeping on the couch to in Eddie’s bed (so Eddie doesn’t have to explain Steve to Wayne again) and Eddie shows Steve where the spar key so he can come in when Eddie is at band practice.

Dont get Eddie wrong, this situation is weird but there are worse ways to make money.

It is what it is until it isn’t. Until it’s… “What the fuck is this?”

Eddie knew Steve was here because he religiously leaves his shoes neatly by the front door but - “A girl? He brought a girl.”

Because, yeah. That’s a blonde sailor girl next to Steve in his bed. They’re both open mouth drooling on his pillows, smell like fire, and look like hell. The only reason he doesn’t kick them out because he knows Starcourt caught on fire last night.

He does pull the blanket off them and goes to sleep in the living room.

He wakes an hour later to the feeling of someone watching him and when he opens his eyes, he’s met with - “Robin Buckley, nice to meet you, Eddie Munson.”

This feels like a trap.

“Uh, yeah. Same.”

She gives him a smile like she has secrets and then holds up a stack of Polaroids, “Does Steve know you take pictures of him while he’s sleeping?”

After checks calendar 84 years, I am once again offering Smart Steve content lmao

Listen the writer's block has been hitting recently if you couldn't tell, but I'm still happy with how this came out.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :P

----

So.

Steve Harrington is smart.

Like, smart smart.

Like, the kind of smart where he not only understands shit, he can explain complicated shit to Eddie without sending his brain into a coma.

It's been two weeks, and Eddie is still trying to come to terms with this discovery. He's four tutoring sessions in and a little spark of surprise still rocks him whenever Steve can easily explain a new topic using the stuff Eddie likes.

He explained velocity using D&D spells. He explained electrical circuits using the concept of plugging a guitar into an amp. After asking a few questions about Lord of the Rings, Steve Harrington managed to explain the in-depth concepts of magnetism using the fucking One Ring.

How the fuck is Eddie supposed to be normal about any of that? Ignoring the sheer fact that Steve is capable of it, how is Eddie supposed to feel about the...the willingness to learn what Eddie understands best and meet him on that level?

If the answer is awed and practically starstruck, he's ahead of the game.

"Hey, you doing okay? Kinda spacing out over there, man."

Eddie blinks, the textbook in front of him coming back into focus. Steve had been explaining the concept of momentum, but his words just floated in one ear and out the other because Eddie was once again consumed by the absurdity of the situation.

It's not like he can say that, though. So, instead, he settles for a grimace and pushes the textbook away. "I think I'm all fried out for physics," he says, looking up at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, blinking a few times before nodding. "Yeah, sure, uh, sorry."

"Wait, what are you sorry about?"

Steve looks away, an awkward frown tugging at his lips. "I...probably wasn't explaining it too well, huh?"

"Woah, woah, no way," Eddie says, putting a stop to that train of thought before it can leave the station. He turns in his chair to face Steve directly, ignoring how the metal rod that attaches it to the desk digs painfully against his shin. "Listen, Stevie, I've never understood physics more than when you explain it. Like, I don't know, man, whatever you're doing works."

Steve must have been more worried than he let on, because Eddie can literally see the tension draining from his shoulders. "Great," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he glances away. "Seriously, that's great. I'm glad nothing's been confusing."

"Yeah, so, nothing you did," Eddie says, feeling like he needs to reiterate that point to drive it home. "Honestly, you could probably even make me understand geometry. Not like our teacher is doing shit to help."

"Do you...not understand geometry?" Steve asks, looking a little unsure like he can't tell if that's a joke or Eddie's attempt at suggesting another class he needs help in. This one is a class they share, which means Steve will have seen Eddie's floundering attempts at answering questions, and he feels a whole new burn of embarrassment course through him.

"Do you?" Eddie asks in return.

"Yeah. It's just, like, angles and shit, man."

Eddie stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing and trying to figure out if Steve is somehow, subtly, making fun of him. But of course he isn't. If Eddie has learned nothing else, it's that Steve doesn't ever think Eddie is actually stupid or deserving of ridicule. He just thinks Eddie hasn't been taught properly, which is more on the teacher than him.

After a moment, Eddie twists around to dig in his bag. He pulls out his geometry homework, slaps it on the desk, and gestures at the triangles and squares and other shapes with unidentified angles and side lengths. "I have literally no clue what the fuck is going on here," he says.

Steve moves closer, looking over the sheet with a slight frown. Eddie knows this face by now. It's the one Steve makes when he's searching for the relevant knowledge in his own brain, pulling it to the front so he can easily identify the gaps in Eddie's understanding. "So, how would you start?" Steve finally asks, offering his pencil.

Eddie takes it, twirls it between his fingers a few times, and looks over the questions. He eventually chooses one asking him to find the length of a side. "I know this one. It's the equation with the squares and shit," he says, carefully writing it out and plugging in numbers under the triangle.

"Right. Pythagorean theorem. A squared plus B squared equals C squared."

"Yeah. That," Eddie says, working through the math on a separate sheet of paper instead of in his head. He can do easy addition and subtraction, but one of the first things Steve did was get him used to using scratch paper. His brain doesn't feel quite as crowded by numbers anymore; now it's just crowded by the endless rotation of bites of knowledge and equations that have nothing to do with the work at hand. It's like his brain can recognize that it needs to remember something, but can't identify what exactly, so it just offers up everything.

When he's done, Eddie shows Steve his work, the answer circled at the bottom of the scratch paper. "Perfect," Steve says, flashing a smile that makes Eddie's heart lurch dangerously. "Okay, so that's solid. What about this one."

He points at a right triangle with only one angle listed and the other marked as unknown. "No fucking clue," Eddie says.

"This one is asking for the unknown angle. It'll just be some subtraction."

"It's only giving me one angle, Stevie," Eddie points out, gesturing to the angle marked as 53. "What the fuck do I do with that?"

"Well, the main thing is that a triangles angles will always add to 180. Also, this is a right triangle," Steve explains, taking the pencil from Eddie to circle the L-shaped corner of the triangle. "This angle will always be 90 degrees on right triangles. Should I keep going?"

"No," Eddie says slowly, drawing the word out as he takes the pencil back. "I'm starting to get it. Lemme try."

Steve waits patiently as Eddie hesitates before adding the angles together and subtracting that from 180. When he gets to a solution of 37, he gestures for Steve to check.

"That's right," Steve says, nodding as he points to another triangle on the sheet. "For this one, I'll teach you about the SOH CAH TOA trick."

Eddie nods, paying as much attention as he can, but he can't help feeling a little distracted by Steve's happy smile and relaxed posture. He's never seen Steve like this during class, and he's struck by the sudden notion that nobody else will see Steve like this, either.

------

When Steve gets home, he drops his bag in the hallway, grabs a soda from the kitchen, and collapses onto the couch.

A few National Geographic and Scientific American magazines are still spread out across the coffee table. A brief glance reminds Steve that none of the stories were particularly interesting in these editions.

He pops the tab on his soda, takes a sip, and glances at the phone on the end table next to him.

Steve had noticed something today. Eddie's shirt. Most of the band shirts Eddie wears are popular enough that Steve sort of knows them. Metallica, KISS, and AC/DC were recognizable since he's passed their albums on display in record stores.

Today's band, though. He didn't recognize that one. What the fuck was Manowar?

After a few seconds of thought, Steve reaches out and grabs the phone. He's just doing research. Wanting to understand the music Eddie likes is reasonable. That's how Eddie learns. There's no other reason for Steve dialing the number of an old classmate.

The phone rings a few times before picking up. "Amare residence," a girl says, sounding distracted.

"Hey, Dee. It's Steve."

"Hmm, Steve. Steve. ...Steeeeve. Oh, is this Steve Harrington, deserter of friends for the woes of public education?"

Despite everything, Steve can't help an amused smile. "Yeah, that Steve," he says. He doesn't apologize, since he knows that's not what she wants. If she was actually angry, she would've hung up.

"Well, how kind of you to grace me with your voice," Dee says, sounding distant like she's set the phone down. "I suppose I can give you until I finish braiding my hair."

"Great. You know about metal, right?"

"Like iron? Duh, Steve, I'm not thirteen."

"No, like, heavy metal."

"Iron is pretty heavy."

"Music, Dee. Heavy metal music."

"Oh! Aren't you a Tears for Fears kind of boy? What are you doing asking about heavy metal?"

Steve starts to answer but stops himself. He doesn't know why. Dee tutors kids all the time. Everyone in their private school group did. That's how they made money. She'd understand that he's trying to learn more about Eddie's interests for tutoring purposes.

So why can't he just say that?

"This long pause says you're thinking about lying to me," Dee says. "Don't bother, Steve."

"Well, I do want to know for the guy I'm tutoring. But not just because I'm tutoring him."

"Awww, are you trying to make a friend?" Dee teases.

Steve grimaces, wondering why his stomach twists slightly at the question. "Yeah, kind of. I want to know more about the stuff he likes. And he likes heavy metal. So, ya know, I thought of you."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Dee says. "And I love talking music, so I guess we can keep talking even after I'm done braiding."

A relieved smile tugs at Steve's lips. "Thanks, Dee, I appreciate it. So, first question, what's Manowar?"

-------

Tag List!

@estrellami-1, @ravenfrog,

Musical prodigy Steve, who is way too casual about this gift. He plays seven instruments and could read sheet music before he could spell his own name, and literally never mentions it.

He has perfect pitch and can perfectly replicate a song he’s heard once on the radio. If you gave him an instrument he’s never played before and an hour, he’d made something beautiful out of it. And no one knows.

Well, some people know.

His mom still signs him up for recitals and performances out of state, but Steve never talks about it. He just says he has something to do with him mom that weekend, and then goes to preform in a concert hall in front of hundreds of people.

Honestly, Steve kinda assumed everybody was like that.

His parents never made it seem like it was a big deal. Hell, he doesn’t even consider that he could go to college for music (not that his dad would ever allow it). It’s basically a hobby.

It’s only after concussion number two when he’s sitting in English class listening to Eddie Munson complaining for a week straight about how he has an ‘epic vision’ for a ‘new song’ but it’ll never come to fruition because he’d need a full string orchestra.

And then another week listening to him hum the melody of the song.

And then a couple more days with the studio equipment that his parents got him for Christmas that Steve starts to think that maybe this ability isn’t all that common.

Eddie - still complaining - just stares at him with shock and confusion when Steve sits a cassette down in front of him and tells him to, “Stop talking.”

Honestly, that should be it, right? Steve has spent more effort making mix tapes than that cassette and those were barely a blip in the week so…

So, why is Eddie Munson confronting him at his locker the next morning? Eddie’s hands are all over the place like, “Did you really find and pay an entire orchestra to play my music just so I’d be quiet?”

“No,” Steve says slowly because that’s insane. “I played your music so you’d be quiet… it clearly didn’t work.”

“You can play…”

“Yeah?”

Eddie just stares at him like he’s something worth staring at and then asks seriously, “Do you want to be in my band?”

Steve Harrington, who has a very “in name only” relationship with his parents, the people who claim they love him lots but have simply given him cash for his last six birthdays without bothering to send a card. 

Steven Harrington, who lost his connection to the only adults in his life who actually parented him when he had his final fight with Tommy and Carol-- not that they ever really did that much. Having an adult put a bandaid on his knee and complimenting him for being tough was plenty enough. 

Steve Harrington, who drove Dustin and co. to the Byers house that one Christmas and was told by Hopper not to come in; that Joyce was still mad at him about the ‘demodog in the fridge’ and figured his exclusion was fair--it wasn’t like Hopper actually liked him. Joyce certainly had no reason to. It wasn’t like he was doing anything for Christmas anyways. 

Steve Harrington, who is fairly certain Robin’s parents have clocked her as queer but who still treats him in that careful way many parents do when he’s hanging around their daughter. There’s a barrier there, in the way of firm handshakes and “get her back safe”’s that keep things formal. (It’s never bothered him before, and he swears it doesn’t bother him now.) 

Steve Harrington, whose relationships with adults are defined by words like “networking”, “proper connections”, “favors”, and “finances”, who has at best been treated like a miniature version of his father and at worst as a spoilt moron, who encounters Wayne Munson and has no idea what to do with the man. 

Wayne Munson, who asks him actual questions about his life. Who asks him to watch the game with him. Who calls him “boy” and “son” in ways that sound affectionate and not frustrated. Wayne, who shoos him away from the dishes and compliments his cooking, who has invited Steve over when Eddie isn’t even home.

Steve Harrington, who keeps apologizing to Eddie because “I’m not trying to steal your Uncle man, I promise.” and doesn’t believe Eddie when the latter just laughs at him.

(“You can’t steal Wayne, Steve.” Eddie says with a snicker, when he finally figures out what Steve is apologizing for.  The guy apologizes a lot for things that make no sense, it’s a bad habit Eddie’s working on him with. “Though I do believe he has been trying to steal you.” 

“Oh.” This does not relieve Steve. In fact, this seems to make him more nervous looking, which Eddie does not want. 

“I uh. I don’t want to come between you guys so I guess we can just hang at my house…?” The voice he trails off with is downright painful for Eddie to hear, and he’s already slashing his hand in the air in a wild ‘No’ before Steve can even finish speaking.

“Dude you’re fine. I’m glad you guys are getting along! Wayne needs someone to talk sportsball with and clearly so do you because you keep trying to talk about it to anyone who will listen.”

“I guess if you’re alright with it…”) 

Steve Harrington, who allows himself to be adopted by the Munsons much in the way a feral cat lets itself become domesticated, and who starts looking at Wayne like the man hung the moon. 

Wayne Munson, who is referred to by Steve as “Dad” exactly once, and feels so fucking happy about it he misses the panic attack Eddie has to talk Steve through. 

He also misses that that is the moment when Steve accidentally confesses his feelings to Eddie in the Munson’s (new) cramped bathroom, on grounds that “I can’t date you and also call Wayne dad like that, that’s weird! Isn’t that weird!? It feels weird!” 

(“Sweetheart,” Eddie says, trying not to smile and failing entirely. “I get what you’re saying, but I think in your panic you missed something kinda key, there.”) 

Steve Harrington, who gets himself an entire family in the end (and gets to both call Wayne “dad” and Eddie as his boyfriend, without issue, because “we’re not related babe, you can call your inlaw whatever you want.” 

“Now who's skipping steps? When did we get married?”

“The very second it’s legal, that’s when.”) 

--and has never been happier in his life.

Steve and Eddie, who are both in a city for some music awards the next day, who both decide to go out for a couple of drinks the night before, who entirely thanks to destiny sit next to each other at the bar, who hit it off quickly and start talking and go on and on and on and on...

Steve knows that he recognizes Eddie from somewhere, but he is not entirely sure where from until a guy approaches them asking for a picture with him, that Steve takes very amused, and he realises he's the metal guy Dustin had asked him to take a picture with if he saw him at the awards.

Eddie, on the other hand, doesn't recognise Steve at all, even though he is objectively way more famous than him. It's just that Steve always wears a wig and sunglasses, a moustache that is sometimes fake. It's not like his identity is a secret, he does some interviews without the costume. It's what robin has called his 'drag persona' and not his hannah montana. Gives him some peace in the way that only dedicated fans recognise him when he's out.

The night is coming to an end and Eddie gets a brilliant idea to see Steve again. He asks him to be his date to the award show, like a full date, stand at his side at the red carpet and pose with him and everything, he thinks it will be fun and a very amused Steve agrees.

Eddie is very confused and surprised when the photographers ask to take pictures of his date alone at the red carpet, when some interviewers call out to him and he goes to them easily, but he is too caught up on his own interviews with his band to really pay attention to whatever shenanigans his very hot "anonymous" date has decided to pull.

Eddie is absolutely shocked when his hot "anonymous" date wins artist of the year and kisses him before going on the stage.

more twitter thoughts with @pukner and @sangrientojoe

It’s lonely at the top

Part 1 | part 2 | here / final part

Read on Ao3

wc 1,698 | Steddie | angst with a happy ending!

“You need to give him some space,” Robin said over the phone. Eddie frowned. It’s been three days. He missed Steve. He nearly leaped over the couch to answer the phone, assuming it was him. Robin was the next best, he guessed. “You really hurt him.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “And I’m sorry. I really am. Will you tell him I’m done with the parties? Done with Trick? He means more to me than being liked.”

“Yeah,” Robin huffed. “You sure showed him that.”

“I mean it,” Eddie said honestly. “I do. I’m done with it all.”

“I think you need to tell him that yourself,” Robin said.

“How can I?” Eddie asked. “You won’t let me talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” Robin corrected. “You need to let him be ready to accept you.”

Eddie sighed, pressing his forehead against the cabinet where the phone hung. He wished there was a way to tell Steve how sorry he was. As much as Eddie wanted to take the Green line to Robin’s dorm and talk to Steve, he can’t cross that boundary. But he needed a way to pour out his emotions, to let Steve know that he’s loved. That Eddie’s sorry. “Can I — Can I send him a letter? That way when he’s ready, he knows I’m there for him?”

There was silence on the other line as Robin thought it over. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “Just address it to me. He’s not …”

“Supposed to be there,” Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I figured. Thank you, for being there for him.”

“Yeah. Look,” Robin huffed. “If he does let you back in again, and you fuck up again. It’s your balls, Munson.”

“Understood,” Eddie said. “I promise. Never again.”

Robin hung up with a click. Eddie sighed, running his hands over his face. He fucked up. Bad.

He guessed there was no time to start writing like the present.

💌💌💌💌

“Steve, someone at table 13 requested you personally,” Jenny, the hostess said. “He’s — uh — a little scary. So if you have issues, get Rod.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” Steve said, pulling his order book from his apron. He wasn’t sure who would request him at 3 pm. Most of his early birds on Saturdays stop by the diner for brunch and he barely saw a soul until 5.

When they first moved out to Chicago, Steve had no clue what he was going to do for work. He was attending Harold Washington College to get his associates in early education, and then potentially apply to UIC. Then one day, he got off a stop too early and saw the help wanted sign. It was easy for him to pick up, he made decent tips, and it worked with his schedule well. Plus, he was able to take home food at the end of his shift.

Robin’s been enjoying the pancakes lately.

Plus, Steve loved when it was slow and Eddie would —

He closed his eyes, letting the thought disappear. He missed Eddie. His heart ached any time he thought about him. But he was afraid that Eddie didn’t miss him in the same way.

He took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile as he greeted his table.

“Hi, welcome in. I’m Steve. I’ll be taking care —“ Steve stopped as he looked at the patron. He felt his lips turn into a frown. “Trick?”

“Patrick’s fine,” Trick winked. “I mean, we’re in your court, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve nodded. He pressed his lips together, feeling like he couldn’t stop staring at the black and blue circles under his eyes. “What happened to your — uh —“ he gestured to his own face. He winced. Trick didn’t like him in the first place. He wouldn’t give Steve the time of day. Why would he bother to tell him about an injury like that. “Sorry — shouldn’t have asked that. What can I get started for you?”

“Your boyfriend, actually,” Trick smirked. It was like ice water was dumped over Steve as the words washed over him. Trick’s smirk dropped. He leaned over the table. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hey — hey, sorry. I didn’t mean — It’s cool. It’s — Eddie and you — are cool, I mean.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he felt any better or worse. All he could say was, “Oh.”

“Yeah, uh —“ Trick ran his fingers over his buzzed hair and exhaled. “Half of our friends are gay or lesbian or queer. It’s — that’s fine. Promise.”

“Oh,” Steve repeated. He sat on the other side of the booth, across from Trick. “Okay.”

“I just —“ Trick looked up to the ceiling before turning his attention back to Steve. “We shouldn’t have judged you. We saw you and immediate thought you were gonna be some straight jackass like we’ve dealt with our whole lives. We built this community of accepting outcasts, and outcasted you while doing so.”

Oh.

Steve wasn’t sure what to think.

When Eddie and him started to date, the Corroded Coffin boys treated him similarly. But Eddie called them out on that before it got bad.

Before it got like this.

“I guess what I wanted to say was sorry,” Trick said. “For pushing you out. And name calling.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “I don’t recall any name calling?”

“Yeah, you weren’t around for that,” Trick winced, gesturing to his nose. “Eddie made sure I knew that was wrong.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathed. “My Eddie?”

“Yep,” Trick said. “I hope he gave you a big apology for everything. So, tell me. What do you got that’s good to eat here?”

Steve took Trick’s order — one strawberry milkshake and an order of fruit loaded French toast — sent it to the kitchen, then went into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and pulled out Eddie’s letter from his apron pocket. The first letter arrived last Monday. And he received a letter every day that he’s stayed with Robin.

With a shaky breath, Steve opened the letter.

💌💌💌💌

Dear Steve, there’s nothing in the world that I can do to make this up to you. But I will try every day to make sure that you don’t ever forgotten again. You are the stars that light my way home, the sun that brings warmth into my light, and the moon that shines love over me. To experience your love is something truly unreal. And to think I put you on the back burner for a taste of popularity? It was like the Ring of Power overtook my mind. I got lost in the feeling of being admired by many, I forgot what it’s like to be loved by one. I’d travel to Mordor and back for you. Through the Gap of Rohan and through the Mines of Mora.

In a world where everyone could know my name, I’d only want to know yours.

My apologies will never be enough. Love, Eddie

💌💌💌💌

I hope you are well. I hope your classes are going good and that you’re excelling. I know you are. You’re so fucking smart, you blow me away with every new piece of knowledge you brought home. I hope that basketball at the YMCA is going good. I’m sorry I missed your last couple of games. There is no excuse. I hope one day you’d allow me to be by your side again, cheering you on.

You deserve the world, baby. Nothing will stop me from showing you that. Everything from the water in the rivers to the trees in the forest. From the canyons in Arizona to the mountains in Colorado. It’s yours. It’s all yours. You deserve everything. You deserve the best. And I promise that I will prove that.

Forever in love, Eddie

💌💌💌💌

I’d move heaven and hell

Just to see you smile again

Or remember how it felt

To have you in my arms

When I begged God for mercy

In the depth of hells

It was nothing compared

To begging for the mercy of you

To hear you laugh, to see you smile

To counting the stars across your skin

To pick up where we left off

To start all over again

I’d move heaven and hell for you

💌💌💌💌

Steve folded the letters, slipping them back into the envelope and set them on his nightstand.

He laid back down, turning to his side. Eddie’s side of the bed was empty. Like it has been for four days.

After Steve read the first letter, he found his way back to their apartment. Eddie was hope and nearly wrapped his arms around Steve, stopping as if there was an invisible barrier in between them. Eddie stopped, respecting that boundary at the threshold.

It was Steve to crack.

Steve who took that step over the threshold and fell into Eddie’s arms, burying his face into Eddie’s neck. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” was all Eddie could say.

They agreed they needed to slowly integrate back into each others’ lives. Communicate when they’re feeling alone and listen when one’s feeling distressed. Nightmares seemed easier to deal with, but they were going to work it through.

Eddie said he would sleep on the couch until Steve was ready for him. “No matter how long it takes, sweetheart,” Eddie said, pressing a kiss against Steve’s knuckles. “When you’re ready for me, I’m here.”

And Eddie truly meant that. They could go back to just friends and Eddie would accept it. He would be heartbroken, but to have Steve in his life again?

That’s worth everything to Eddie.

Eddie was jostled awake, feeling the couch cushion shift underneath him. The blanket on his body lifted up and a familiar weight settle on his chest. He felt at home again. Eddie tugged the blanket back over the both of them, one hand around Steve’s waist and the other tangled in his hair as Steve laid his head on Eddie’s chest. Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, taking a silent vow to never lose him again.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Fic where the Corroded Coffin boys need money for The Battle of the Bands in Chicago.

They’re getting high and thinking of ways to come up with the money - selling their shit, donating blood, ect - when one of them suggest they do a ransom.

Dick Harrington is the richest guy in town. Surely, he’d pay big bucks for his only son, right? They could get enough cash to get to the Battle of the Bands and also buy new amps. They should do this, right?

It’ll be easy.

Turns out, it’s not easy to kidnap someone because Steve fights back surprisingly hard. Gareth is limping. Jeff has a broken nose. Grant has an asthma attack chasing Steve when he runs.

The only reason they get him is because Eddie hit him with his van and now they’re all panicking about how he’s probably slowly dying from a head bleed. This what they’re doing when Steve slowly regains consciousness, tied up in Gareth’s mom’s basement.

They don’t stop panicking until he’s like, “Um, can I get a cigarette?”

Steve is both the best and worst hostage they’ve ever had (also the only hostage they’ve ever had). He doesn’t scream or cry like they thought he would, but he’s really bitchy and kinda mean, and he does try to escape when Eddie unties him so he can use the bathroom.

It’s like three hours later when Steve tells them that his dad is not going to pay a ransom because like, “He doesn’t even like me.”

“He’ll pay,” Eddie says, breaking his hour long streak of ignoring Steve. “Anybody would pay to get their kid back.”

“He didn’t last time.”

Freeze. Record scratch. “What?”

“What do you need the money for anyways?” Steve asks. Grant tells him and a Steve nods like, “Oh. Yeah, I can get you the money. Easy peasy.”

Cut to a genre change. This is a heist now and the Corroded Coffin boys quickly learn that Steve is fucking insane and also, maybe their manager now?

So... I'm writing a fic. It's been sitting on my drafts for over six months, that's why I think it's time to post it even though I barely have anything more written.

Maybe now that it's published I'll have more motivation, anyways; here it is:

Erlking. / (ˈɜːlˌkɪŋ) / noun. German myth: a malevolent spirit who carries children off to death.

Jonathan just wanted to find his brother and was looking wherever he could, and if 'wherever' meant Harrington's backyard, he would look at it.

It was just that Jonathan was expecting to find his brother. Not... King Steve and Eddie 'The Freak' Munson having a pretty enthusiastic make up session.

Or. Stranger things through out the seasons with established steddie, Steve being friends with everyone, Hopper and Wayne being surrogate fathers and death lurking at every corner of Steve's life.

Archive Warnings:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death (temporary).

Categories: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationships:

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & The Party, Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Steve Harrington & Everyone, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Additional Tags:

Steve Harrington-centric, Queer Steve Harrington, Queer Eddie Munson, Canon Rewrite, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Secret Relationship, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington Friendship, The Party as Family (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington Acting as The Party's Big Brother, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie MunsonProtective Wayne Munson, Protective Jim "Chief" Hopper, Found Family, Everyone Loves Steve Harrington, Final Boss Vecna, Death, Temporary Character Death, Major Character Undeath, Talks About Death, Body Horror, Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Grief/Mourning, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Indulgent, Gratuitous use of italics, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Graphic Description, Tag – Freeform.

Eddie is trying to get a book off the shelf at the library and Steve is in his way so he just tries to reach around him. Steve interpreted Eddie’s arms reaching around him wrong and hugs him.

They are not friends.

They have literally never talked to each other.

It’s a good hug and Steve pats Eddie on the back afterwards like, “Good talk.”

And then just leaves him there with a crush that is growing.

(In the same universe as this post because it’s funnier that way)

Wayne spends an hour talking to Steve, trying to build some connection with the kid since it seems like he’s gonna be around for a while and Eddie really likes him.

It’s not the most natural conversation because neither seem to be big talkers but Wayne feels pretty good about it. Until Steve leaves and Eddie opens his trap.

Eddie, trying his best to destroy their can opener in the kitchen, says ten minutes after Steve leaves, “Wayne, I thought you hated being in marching band.”

“I did.”

“Why’d you spend an hour talking about it then?” Eddie asks. “I’ve literally never heard you say that much about anything.”

“Steve’s in the marching band. Just trying to find some common ground.”

“Steve’s not in the marching band.”

“Yes, he is,” Wayne says. “He was wearing a marching band tshirt.”

“No, Steve’s wearing Robin’s tshirt,” Eddie grins, finally succeeding in opening a can of peaches. “Robin is in the marching band. Steve graduated last year.”

Well. Fuck.

“What the hell does that kid like?”

“I dunno,” Eddie shrugs (he absolutely does know). “He kinda just goes with the flow.”

Steddie soulmate first words are fun and all but Eddie Munson will forever be a dramatic motherfucker, Steve has a full 3 page essay scrawled over his back about the dangers of capitalism and his dad hates it, you think Eddie would get the chance to speak to the Steve Harrington and wouldn't milk it for the most Shakespeare worthy performance you've ever seen in your goddamn life

Bonus points, Robin is his platonic soulmate and she'll ramble till the sun goes down so steve just has no space left on his body by the time those two are finished