#Eddie as a librarian is everything to me

[theupsidedownsrealestateagent]

Have Kids They Said

(1989)

After spending most of their adolescences trying to survive and saving the world a handful of times the not so young anymore kids decided that it was time to blow off some steam, and for once in their lives at least act their ages, even if it was only for one night.

“I don’t know Mike, this seems pretty risky and besides since when are we the type to go school parties?” Will asked cautiously, opening up the discussion to the rest of the party.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree with Wheeler. Look we’re seventeen now why shouldn’t we do something fun and stupid?” Max added.

“Okay sure, but what about our parents? There’s no way we’d be able to to convince them to let us go, especially after all the lies we had to tell over the years about where we were during actual super dangerous situations,” Lucas pointed out.

“Yes, I agree with Lucas. Hop and Joyce would not be happy,” El nodded, looking over to Will. 

“Guys, guys! I think we are forgetting our best alibi,” Dustin smirks arrogantly waiting for the rest of his friends to catch his drift. He sighs when no one knows what the hell he was talking about. “Steve and Eddie guys come on!”

They spent the rest of the night coming up with a fool proof plan. There was still a lot of doubt about this working between Will and El especially. Mike, Dustin, and Max were doing their very best to persuade their friends that this was a good idea.

***

Steve and Eddie had began officially dating after two years of mutual pining. The first year was mostly dealing with Vecna, hospitals, and recovery, all while dealing with unspoken feelings for one another and eventually falling in love. But here they stood in spite of everything. The two men were able to overcome their pasts and expectations put upon them, and fully commit to each other, and they’d tell you that they’ve never been happier.

Tonight was important to the couple. It was their first anniversary of living together, and Steve was putting in so much work to surprise Eddie with a romantic night alone at their apartment. 

After convincing Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin to not put their lives on hold and actually go to college, while the two stayed behind to make sure the kids were alright, Steve and Eddie had been a little burnt out between their day jobs and coparenting seven teenagers. Steve knew that this night was what they desperately needed in order to relax and spend some romantic, intimate time together. No kids, no monsters, just him and his hot boyfriend.

While Eddie was at work at the library, Steve had a day off from Family Video and was thankfully caught up on his community college work for the week. So he spent his free time running to the market, deep cleaning the apartment, and making dinner the best he could manage for their date. Steve wasn’t the best cook but he was getting better every day. He decided that the most romantic meal he could manage was chicken parm. Was it the most romantic? Probably not, but it was best option, and coincidentally one of Eddie’s favorites. All to be paired with Melvald’s finest selection of boxed red wine. He found some dinner table candles in a random box in storage full of miscellaneous shit he packed angrily when he finally decided to get of his parents shell of a house. 

Now to get himself ready. He styled his hair a little more carefully than usual as if that was remotely possible. Shuffling through his dresser to find those jeans that are a tad too snug just because he knows it drives his boyfriend crazy, pulling them on and smirking to himself. The top didn’t really matter so Steve just grabbed whatever dark green sweater was on top. Finally everything was ready. Steve gave himself one last look over with a smug look on his face, and went to the kitchen just to make sure the food was staying warm without drying out or overcooking. 

***

Steve was humming along to a tape labeled The Munsonington Anti Divorce Album with music they could both agree on and not want to rip the other to shreds while listening together. In the middle of the fourth song the front door swings open, “Stevie!” Eddie calls out before spotting his boyfriend in the kitchen. 

The older man shrugs his jacket off, and toes off his heavy boots leaving them by the door making his way to meet Steve who was standing, back turned while he plated their dinner. Eddie’s arms wrap around Steve’s middle, and no matter how long they're together Steve’s stomach will always flutter at Eddie’s touch. The metalhead gets close to Steve’s ear and practically purrs, “Hey baby, I’ve missed you today. Dinner looks great, but oh Stevie your ass, your ass is a work of art.”

“Jesus Eds. Listen you eat your dinner like a good boy, and maybe I’ll let you have dessert,” Steve’s blush betrays his mock annoyed eye roll.

“Oh yeah? That’s funny usually you’re my good boy” Eddie plants a kiss Steve’s crimson cheek, “And what’s for dessert anyways, Steve a la mode?” He wiggles his eye brows seductively, as he turns his partner to face him.

Rather than dignify the lewd question with a response, Steve plants a teasing kiss on the surprised man’s face, pulling away far too soon much to Eddie’s dismay. “Dinner is going to get cold,” He whispers against Eddie’s lips, smiling as he grabs both of their plates and makes his way to the romantically decorated table.

After regaining his composure Eddie follows his love. Throughout dinner he can’t help but think how fucking lucky he is. Barely three years ago, he was bleeding out from the demobat bites, thinking he was going to die before he could figure out these intense feeling he was starting to have towards Steve Harrington of all people. And now he gets to call this person his boyfriend? It wasn’t supposed to work like this. People like Eddie didn’t get to love the high school prom king, more importantly though he wasn’t supposed to have said love reciprocated in anyway. 

For the last six years Steve’s life has consisted of world ending supernatural occurrences and recovering from those same occurrences. Yet he would do it all over again because they lead him to family, best friend, and soulmate. His chosen family, that Steve would die to protect every single time, and has more than proven that fact. That being said the kids were older and needed him less and less as time goes on, the friends his age were away living their own lives. He liked to joke with Joyce that soon they would both be empty nesters. Even though he joked and made light of the situation it had been a huge transition for the overprotective babysitter. With Eddie’s help Steve was able to start relaxing and taking more time to fulfill his own needs and wants. Hence this very intimate night he painstakingly planned for him and his love.

***

The mess on the table was hastily abandoned, as soon as they stood Eddie closed in on his boyfriend his ring covered hands immediately grabbed ahold of Steve’s hair, pulling them together and connecting their mouths. Steve let out an involuntary groan, and picked the older man up. Eddie got the hint and secured his place by wrapping his legs around Steve’s lower back, never breaking their kiss. He gets carried to the sofa, Steve reluctantly pulls back, eyes shining as he takes in the flushed face of his boyfriend, “I’m so fucking in love with you Bambi.” Eddie responds with a small smile, brushing a few strands of hair behind Steve’s ear, his mouth opens to speak but it gets cut off by the shrill sound of the phone ringing. This time the groan Steve lets out is far less sexy and way more annoyed, “Do not fucking move Munson, I’ll be right back.”

“As you wish Stevie.” Eddie said breathily but still sending a cheeky wink as Steve rushes to the answer phone.

Eddie was listening to the one sided conversation and was immediately confused and worried, “Munsonington residence, Steve speaking. Oh hi Mrs. Henderson! Right sorry, Hello Claudia. Ummm he’s actually in the bathroom at the moment. Yes of course I’ll pass it along. Do you want me to have him call you back at all? Haha alright, yes you have a goodnight too. We will, thank you!” 

As the dial tone comes on Steve slams the phone back in the receiver, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Steve what was that, what’s going on?” Eddie asked panicked.

“Dustin told his mom that he was here with all the other kids.” Steve’s tone was cold and deadly. He rubs his face hard before coming up with a plan.

“Oh my god, could it be upside down related? What do we do?”

“No baby, it’s nothing like that, or else they would’ve come here first and it wouldn’t have been a lie to their folks. I have to go out looking for them though, before they do something dumb.” His voice thick with anger.

“No way Steve, you are way too mad to be driving, besides we have to return them alive, and I don’t trust not to strangle the life out of Dustin right now. So I’ll go out and look, while you stay here just in case they actually come around.

Steve lets out a shaky breath and nods in agreement, his face beet red, “Okay, okay you’re right. Be safe I love you, get them home baby.”

“Aye aye cap’n,’ Eddie mock saluted his boyfriend, before planting a chaste kiss on his lips, ‘Love you more sunshine.”

Grabbing his jacket, and van keys Eddie was once again out the door. His mind was racing, although now less anxious about it being another world ending disaster, still no one knowing where the kids were was a big fucking deal. He drove by all the normal stomping grounds, the arcade, the diner, hell he even drove by the school just in case. Then in the dark of night he spotted bright red hair on a road a few blocks away from the Wheeler’s house, the van’s headlights illuminating that is was indeed his ragtag group of formally good kids. 

Eddie pulls over, rolling down the passenger window, “Get in gremlins mom’s not happy.

***

The kids were drunk, well Mike and Dustin were drunk, Max and Lucas were barely tipsy, and the wonder twins were sober. When Max realized how drunk Mike and Dustin actually were, she took over as party leader and dragged them all out of the party. 

The drunkards were arguing  about nonsense, loudly slurring about some fantasy movie that even Will and Lucas couldn’t figure out what they were even referencing. Max and Lucas were in charge of Dustin, while Will and El handled a very difficult Mike. The plan of action was to sneak into Mike’s basement, and pretend to had left Steve and Eddie’s place early that morning. Well that was the plan until a familiar van pulled up next to them. They were so screwed.

***

Steve angrily cleaned the apartment, muttering to himself about always being the god damn babysitter, when the front door opened. He took one look at the group rolled his eyes, hands on his hips about to give his best mom lecture, but was cut off before he could even.

“Okay kids, mom and dad are going to bed, you know where everything is. We will talk about this in the morning so don’t get any ideas,” The metalhead spoke calmly to their adopted nuisances.

Steve was about to protest but Eddie just gently grabbed his arm and lead him to their bedroom. Once they were in the quiet of their room Eddie began to explain the situation. He gave Steve the important parts, and made sure to give credit to the ones who were at least semi responsible. It took a bit but eventually Steve was able to calm down, and he turned to wrap his arms around Eddie, pulling him close and breathing in the smell of his boyfriend’s hair.

A whisper of a voice hit Eddie’s ear, “I’m sorry I overreacted.”

Eddie let out a small chuckle turning so he could look Steve in the eyes and gently cup his face, “Oh sweetheart I promise you didn’t overreact, I just wanted to give them the night to sober up before I sic you on them in the morning. We didn’t have parents who cared where the hell we were and what we were up to so we are going to show our problem children just how much we care when you give your little speech.”

Steve let out a laugh the rest of the tension he was holding finally leaving his body. The boys tangled all of their limbs together and fell asleep peacefully.

Just as the sun was rising, Steve started the vacuum because he was petty, and it was his house despite the gaggle of children inhabiting his living room. But he wasn’t a monster so he also grabbed a bunch of water and painkillers before he started in on his kids. The lecture went down in history as Steve’s best, and scariest. From now on they told Eddie and Steve where they were going even if they couldn’t tell their actual parents.

[spideydreams00]

Turn the lights off/on

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐒𝐡𝐲!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Trigger warnings: NSFW, witchcraft and demon invocations, dom!eddie x sub!reader, tentacles, anal sex, oral sex, lose of virginity (reader) dacryphilia, bdsm, corruption kink, unprotected sex, dubcon (it’s actually dark), oral sex (male r) non accurate descriptions of witchcraft, use of “Y/N”, reader has female anatomy, hints of YN getting bullied at school. lemme know if i forgot something. (Let’s ignore “Kas” is from dnd please) (reader is +18)

𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬.

(𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞) (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝)

Usually loneliness didn’t bother you, to be honest not much things bother you, maybe the girls that pull your hair as hard as they can but it’s not their fault, you should know better than to wear your hair down in front of them. Then there’s the guys, they never try to hangout with you either, to scared that you’ll cast a spell on them but brave enough to pick on you, “it’s none sense” you think

Of course you were aware of your “not so common” hobbies, how much they bothered everyone around, you mommy doesn’t know how to talk to you and daddy doesn’t even bother anymore “they’re bussy” you think

You grew to love nature, the sound of the rain and coldness of the wind are better company than any of your classmates at this point “that must be why no one likes me, for having those thoughts” selfish selfish girl

Anyways, that was yesterday, you shrugged at the thoughts and continued to look through the bookcases, most of them are too tall for you to reach and you’ll certainly won’t ask for help, hopefully something interesting will be there for you able to reach or not, until…. “THE UNDEAD AND ENTITIES” caught your eyes “bingo” you beamed until you read the rest of the title “Advanced witchcraft” well, here’s the thing, you’re not an exceptional witch that comprehends everything but hey! You casted a “self love spell” yesterday, this must be on the same level. Confidence is everything.

You grabbed the book and sprinted to “Susan” the librarian, she just made an annoyed sound and sighed (completely unsurprised).

To eager to get home you sprinted towards the exit until you almost slipped, the floor was wet “hmm?” It started raining and you didn’t even noticed silly silly girl.

By the time you got home your hair was soaked and your rubber boots covered in mud, dirty foot prints on your carpet but your excitement was way stronger than they worry you felt for you to actually do something, when you got to your room you stumped into the edge of your vanity, “fudge!” You cried, great, now you have a bruised hip how ever that wasn’t the important, you were more interested on the book you just dropped, it opened itself into a page the legend “Kas” was all you could read until you took a closer look.

You traced your finger over his photo “pretty” you thought this man- demon was indeed pretty, his long brown locks looked silky in the picture, he appeared to have red eyes and his skin looked gray-ish but not so much, he had tattoos and pretty factions adorning his face, if he wasn’t a demon he could be an angel or a god, “Ironic” you thought….

Finally you began to read the instructions. Salt, candles, black obsidian, 3 drops of your blood… Yeah yeah you have all of those things thank god again ironic, you traced the salt circle and pinched your finger with a needle, dropping 3 drops in your chalice and positioned the obsidians how the instructions said…

Kas

Kas

Kas

Nothing happened, you’re not sure what to expect, but absolutely not nothing! You heard the wind chimes and sighed, “well maybe it doesn’t work” you groaned and began to retire each of the items from it’s place and when you finished you sat on your vanity “why didn’t the ritual work?” Of course you were frustrated, were you a bad witch? At this point you’re not even sure it your self love spell worked too

“Why the sad face?” You heard a voice say, and when you looked in the mirror there he was.. he- that- thing- man sitting on your bed looking at you though the mirror..

“Shit!” You cried “okay it fucking worked you thought” god you don’t even swear! Wait, god?

“I’ve seen really fucked up places doll face, like really fucked up places, but i have never been invoked in a room like- this…” he judged the pink wall paper of your walls

“I’m sorry im sorry!” Pathetic little cries came out from your mouth not so brave now right? The stranger tried to take a closer look to you making you fall from your vanity chair landing on the hard floor with a thud… it made him chuckle. “Please please, don’t hurt me” he chuckled and hovered over you “why am i here doll?” He asked again caressing your soft thighs with his claws, they were sharp, but not to sharp to instantly tear you apart.

“J-just wanted t-to practice” you pleaded “practice what?” He asked sternly “R-rituals?”

He smirked, god what a pretty girl, he haven’t had much action in decades, he noticed the way you looked at him you were afraid of course, but also intrigued

“P-please…” you sounded defeated and he began to sniff you neck, taking a deep breath inhaling the scent of your perfume and your shampoo blending with fear and lust god you smell fucking perfect

“Are you scared?” You nodded. “Then why are you wet?” He asked

Shhh he cooed and you heard a slimy sound… he has tentacles hollyshit “What’s your name?” He asked “Y-y/n” you said and then you felt his tentacle began to rub little circles over your panties (skirt for easy access) the rubbing motions making your panties wet and not entirely because of you, his tentacles are wet themselves, he pressured harder making you whimper

“Does your pretty little clit feel good princess?” He asked and you cries in pleasure “it’s puffy already princess, do you neglect it? Don’t you treat your pussy right?” fuck

The only thing you can do is moan and cry in pleasure when you feel the tip of his other tentacle rubbing circles in your entrance “messy girl” “gonna put it in, gonna put the tip in” he said making you clench in anticipation, your gummy walls hugged him just right feeling the texture of his tentacles drag inside you

“I’m a v-virgin” you cried in pleasure. “well, not anymore sweetheart” he smirked and pushed his tentacle all the way inside you making you cry out in both pain and pleasure “f-fuck so tight pussy’s made for me” the soaping sounds your body was producing were addicting his eyes locked in you even though your eyes were rolling back into your head, he noticed the lack of a bra under your top now your hard and sensitive nipples were pressing against it

He pinched them through your top with his index finger and his thumb making you yelp “Y-yes! Yes more please!” Your high pitched moans drove him insane “gonna give it hard to you whore” his tentacle inside you began to fuck you faster, harder, slamming into you so hard it kissed your cervix, it hurts but the motion of his other tentacles rubbing your clit felt so good.

Then another tentacle appeared making his way around your torso and holding you in place “how does it feel bunny? You look so cute all cock drunk, well tentacle drunk” he chuckled “G-g-good ff-feels good” you babbled, he started to palm the huge bulge in his pants moaning “fuckin’ h-hell bitch got me all worked up, all because that tight little pussy-“ he noticed that way you were clenching on him and the louder your moans got “filthy thing you’re gonna cum” he angled his tentacle so now he was hitting that sweet spot inside of you, the one that makes you see stars, the one you never reach when you touch yourself late at night and hump your stuffies, then you feel it, you’re gonna piss- oh no oh no

“Stop! G-gonna- need to” “Just fucking cum!” he growled… and it was inevitable the pressure on your abdomen ceased and white hot pleasure invaded your body making you see spots, you’re soaked and your body is vibrating “Yes! Yes! Yes! Gonna fucking breed you, gonna be stuffed to the brim bitch- you f-fucking BITCH!-“ he growled, pleasure invading his body, it was too much for you, you tried to move back, away from his delicious tentacles but he grabbed your hips holding you in place that’s gonna leave a mark

Then you feel it…. Not only your second orgasm but his… the first rope of his seed “Oh-my-“ he starts but it’s interrupted by his own moans you’re crying and his moans are so hot and needy, animalistic, he’s cumming so much, enough to feel a chalice at least, he’s pumping you full of his cum “M-milk me- Milk me!” He gasps for air but you’re cumming too, clenching so hard against him making it impossible for both your orgasms to stop…

Both your moans ceased and his arms are tightly wrapped around you, his tentacle still there too, you tried to catch your breath and his head rested on the crook of your neck, it felt peaceful but it didn’t last long “Need more of you princess, need another hole” he croaked

Before you could protest he flipped you onto you stomach, now in all fours he splits your legs apart, his tentacles wrapping around your ancles, he pushes your tits out of your top too

“Look at these baby fuck” he rasped and pinched your nipples again, this time also massaging your tits. You were still trembling, tears falling from your pretty eyes, he was so fucking hard, balls blue even his dick hasn’t been in you just yet, only his tentacles that had filled you with cum too… the tentacle in your pussy moved again but slowly and you cried, over sensitive, the other one applied pressure on your clit again but didn’t move, the one thats wrapped around your torso starts to play with your nipples, flipping and rubbing them, just like the one thats on your clit.

You feel another one “fuck” you think, its sliding all the way from your calf to your ass to your tight rim, it’s circling it, making it wet, just like lube would do

“Is this little hole a virgin too sweetheart?” He asked smugly “Your pussy- fuck sweetheart, she’s the best I’ve ever had” you wanted to feel proudly but too deep into submission to even think about yourself, Kas is your master now “All of me K-Kas… I’ve n-never done anything with any-anyone” you said

“Hmm?” Cute he thought “Fuck doll, even that pretty little mouth?” He chuckled and you nodded, this time proudly, it all made sense now, you’ve always been his that’s why life turned this way

He kept circling your rimm with his tentacle and tried to test the waters by dipping just the tip in… again the texture driving you insane. You whimpered at the sensation and felt him slide deeper into you, this time making you cry out, both pleasure and pain

The tentacle in your pussy began to move faster

“You’re gonna be a slut for me aren’t you baby? Might been a virgin a few minutes ago but look at you now… the dirtiest slut I’ve ever seen, so full of my cum. Don’t worry baby, i have more for you, gonna be stuffed”

“I’m your slut Kas, all yours” you cried and it felt so unnatural to talk like this but not displeasing “Eddie” he said

“W-what?” You asked “It’s fucking Eddie!” He growled and pushed the tentacle all the way into your ass making you fucking cry, the tears falling from your eyes making him want to fuck your harder, everything he has was slamming into you faster Harder He got rougher

Now you were crying and panting like a bitch in heat your mouth fell open and it was too late for you to protest when you felt another tentacle sliding into you mouth muffling your moans, cries and whimpers, it was too much, but it felt so good

“Fuck!” Eddie cried in pleasure, you didn’t know and he wouldn’t tell you but you were overstimulating him. How was it possible that a human was making him feel this good?

The tentacle slides trough you throat fucking it, the other one pistons into your ass and your pussy is nothing more than a fleshlight he’s fucking roughly… the circles in your clit we’re erratic now, faster than your fingers will ever allow you to go and your nipples? Oh god your nipples… You think you can cum only from the way he’s playing with them

Your eyes are rolled back and at this point you’re squirting, soaking everything and cum falls from your pussy making a little puddle on the floor

You can’t let him know you’re gonna cum… how?

“B-baby baby-“ he cried “gonna make me cum g-good girl? I’ll breed you okay? Gonna let me breed you?” Its a rhetorical question, even if you don’t want him to, he’ll do it, he’ll fucking do it

It’s building in you again, it’s too good it’s too much and you can only hear the wet sounds your body is making You cry again in pleasure and everything went white… your vision the only thing you hear now is…

“I’m cumming! Fucking whore I’m cumming!” Your tears blur your vision but you feel all the cum filling all your little holes… a literal cum dump

it’s over it’s over….

You feel him collapse on top of you, his whole weight into you is welcomed and you feel all the tentacles leave your holes slowly

You’re covered in sweat and so is he, it’s too sticky to be comfortable and you try to move but-

“Shhh shhh” he cooed “Don’t move baby, let me have this” you noticed the huge wet patch on his pants he came untouched your breath calmed down and he picked you up gently and placed you on your bed “Eddie” you rambled, the dizzy look on your face letting him know you were still tentacles drunk

“Fucking precious little thing” he growled, “I’ll come back later okay? You’re too interesting to let go now” He kissed your forehead and disappeared leaving you all sticky on your bed

Fuck

[bimbobaggins69]

𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬𝟔𝟗 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✰ Series

fooled round and fell in love series

hard times series

gamer boy series

welcome to the dungeon… (steddie x fem reader) - nsfw

right down the line… - (eventual steddie x librarian reader) - nsfw

✰ Two parter series

dial-a-thrill - (part two) - nsfw

new year, old habits. - (part two) - nsfw

✰ One shots

destructive solutions (steddie x fem reader) - nsfw

daddy issues - nsfw

show me - nsfw

meet me in the library - nsfw

don’t be sorry - nsfw

stripped (steddie x fem reader) - nsfw

just call me mr. munson - nsfw

love confessions… - nsfw

heavy metal parking lot - nsfw

wanna try something? - nsfw

first time for everything… - nsfw

love in the locker room - nsfw

in the flesh (steddie x fem reader) - nsfw

angels with filthy souls - nsfw

don’t blink tonight collab with @xxhellfirebunnyxx

my angel is the centerfold - nsfw

all wrapped up - nsfw

stuck in the middle - nsfw

new year, old habits. - nsfw

✰ Blurbs and thots

frotting with Steve and Eddie - nsfw

getting Steve ready for Eddie - nsfw

soundgasm!eddie - nsfw

professor!eddie - nsfw

eddie’s newest piercing | (part two) - nsfw

✰ Moodboards

me x eddie - date in the city

late night drives with steve - nsfw

bully steve - nsfw

picnic with best friend steve - sfw

pretty girls make graves

professor harrington

my 5k celebration

beach day with stevie

© bimbobaggins69 2024 all rights reserved I do not consent for my work to be copied, translated or posted elsewhere.

[headkiss]

you’ll always know me (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie misses you too much when he’s away, so he comes home again and invites you to join him on tour. the two of you figure some things out, too.

word count: 12.2k

warnings: fluff, some angst (i’m sorry!), childhood friends to lovers, librarian!reader, still idiots in love, and a kiss!!!

a/n: hiii thank you guys so so much for all the love on part 1 of this one!!! i hope u love part 2 (the finale) just as much!!! i really really enjoyed writing these two and hopefully you enjoy it too!!! please let me know what you think <3

♫♩♪♬

It’s about a month later when Eddie has another break from tour.

Rather than hanging around wherever in the world he is for the short time like he normally would on the short breaks, he finds himself booking a flight to Hawkins. Sure, he’ll only be there for about 48 hours, maybe less, but he doesn’t mind.

He really, really wants to see you.

Considering how often he talks to you on the phone now, it’d be tough to surprise you this time, so he doesn’t. Last call, he’d told you he had a couple of days off, with a seed of hope in your chest, you’d asked him what he was going to do, and the happy cheer you made when Eddie told you he was coming home is something he’d never forget.

“Is Wayne picking you up?” You’d asked, knowing Eddie would rather not take a driver if it’s possible.

“He’s gotta work.”

“Why don’t I come get you, then?”

And, well, how could Eddie ever say no to that?

That brings him here, walking along the familiar floor of the Indianapolis International Airport, a beanie tucked on his head despite the weather, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes despite being inside.

He’s lucky that it’s not a busy time at the airport, that people don’t really pay him any attention whenever he’s closer to home. One day, that might change, but he’s glad for now, for the sort of peace it brings.

His suitcase is tugged along behind him, wheels spinning against the tiled floors, his legs are stiff from the flight, his neck has an ache in it from his nap, but the discomfort sort of melts away when he sees you.

Eddie suddenly feels more aware of himself than he ever has around you, the pickup in his heart rate louder than ever. He assumes that’s got something to do with those feelings he’s got for you. Feelings he’s had and only just recognized.

You're standing by your car right outside the doors with the ‘pick up’ sign hanging over them, sweater sleeves long enough to cover your palms and a sign (a flimsy piece of paper, really) with the word ‘loser’ scrawled in sharpie.

“You’re still my loser,” he remembers you saying, that night in his van. That night he kissed you and you kissed him and everything felt exactly right for just a minute.

A soft chuckle leaves his chest as he walks through the doors, and even with his poor disguise on, you know it’s him right away. A pair of black jeans, ripped in the knees, a faded band tee, and messy curls. So clearly Eddie.

You want to say his name as soon as you see him, shout it excitedly and sort of embarrassingly. Instead, you let go of your paper with one hand and wave, bouncing on your feet just a little.

Your best friend, the best boy you’ve ever known, back sooner than you ever could’ve hoped.

A smile splits your cheeks, and a mirrored expression spreads on Eddie’s face, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses with the force of it.

When he’s close enough, he drops his suitcase handle and rushes to you, his arms going around your waist and crumpling your piece of paper between your bodies. His hug knocks the air out of you in the best way possible, the smell of his soap and cologne hitting your nose; pine and sandalwood and smoke and something sweet like vanilla.

His hair tickles your nose and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Your arms go around his neck, face tucked against his shoulder.

“Hey, trouble,” he breathes. There’s something like relief there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you say, and it’s quiet enough that he’s the only one that could hear you. He squeezes you even tighter, his hug so crushing you’re standing on your tiptoes to stay in it.

“Thanks for coming.”

You’d go to a lot of places for him, almost anywhere. The Indianapolis International Airport isn’t all that special.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, then remember that you’re still in public, that he’s Eddie Munson, and that you’ve been hugging for a long time for something friendly. Clearing your throat, you pull away and tear the edges of your paper between your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.”

He does, a smile still on his face, though it’s softer now, a little shy. As soon as you pull away from the airport, Eddie tugs off his beanie and sunglasses. He’s often the one driving when you’re together (or, he was when he was always in Hawkins), so he takes this chance to lean his head against the seat and watch you drive.

There’s a small squint in your eyes when you look at some signs, and then he’s thinking about how you’d look in glasses, morning eyes bleary behind the frames. Pretty, he thinks. You hum along to the radio and he’s joining in.

“You’re one-upping me,” you say when he does. “It’s kinda unfair, mister famous singer.”

It’s sort of crazy, how you can say something so simple, so out-of-mind, and it’s enough to wash away any ounce of worry Eddie had that things would be weird now. He guesses you two are too far in now for something like a kiss—the best kiss of his life, probably—to change anything.

Too far into your friendship, of course.

“Stop, we used to sing together all the time,” he says.

“That was before you got a record deal! Now it’s unbalanced!”

“This is the best part of the song, trouble,” Eddie reaches over and twists the volume knob, turning it up, “sing along.”

You’re shaking your head and you’re smiling and just like that you and Eddie are harmonizing on the bridge. It’s pitchy (on your part) and easy (on his) and it’s pretty perfect.

The sun sits lower in the sky by the time you’re in Hawkins, pulling into the trailer park. There’s an orange hue in the sky, fading into pinks and blues.

Wayne’s car still isn’t back from work, and gravel crunches beneath your tires as you park in front of Eddie’s trailer. You look over at him, the time spent in the car talking and singing and soaking in his presence like a plant in sunlight doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like everything at the same time.

“Welcome home, Eddie.”

He glances over at you like he has time and time again on the way, eyes flicking over your features even as you turn to look towards the sunset out the window.

“It’s good to be home.” His eyes are still on you.

-

Eddie tried to wait up for Wayne that night, but he seemed to be working way later than he should’ve been (some things never change) and Eddie was more tired than he thought.

He showered, laid down, and he was out.

He wakes up with hair even messier than usual, his arm stiff from where he’d been using it as a pillow, and indents from the blankets on his bare chest. Telltale signs of a good sleep.

Walking out into the kitchen, that smell of crappy coffee and the sight of his uncle has him smiling, “morning, Wayne.”

“My boy,” his uncle sets down his newspaper to greet him, pushing back and standing up to give him a proper hug, hand slapping his back affectionately. “Back so soon. You missed me that much?”

“Sure,” he says, pulling back and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “I wanted to say ‘hi’ when you got back yesterday, but I was out.”

“I know,” Wayne chuckles a little, “I checked on ya and found you snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“You snore, kid.”

“You have no proof,” Eddie says, sitting across from his uncle the way he has forever. “What kept you out so late, anyway? Car giving you trouble?”

Sinking into his seat a little, Wayne fights a smile, “no, not a car.”

“Wayne Munson! Were you on a date?”

The thought has Eddie grinning. His uncle deserves someone, he deserves to be loved in that way and to be less lonely.

“I’m the parent here,” he says, though it’s clear in the out-of-character shyness that Eddie’s right, “I’m the one who gets to ask questions.”

“I’m happy for you,” Eddie says.

“Shut up and go to the library, I know that’s why you came back.”

Eddie never really stopped to think of the exact thing that pulled him back here so soon. Obviously he wants to see you, he always does, but that hasn’t always been enough to get him home, as awful as that sounds. This time, it’s like he was searching for an opening, any sliver of time so that he could see your face and hear your voice at the same time.

So, yeah, maybe that is ultimately why he came back. And maybe he abandons his coffee mug in favor of getting dressed and driving his van over to the library.

You’re going through your system and finding overdue books, calling people and having to stay sweet even when they’re cold with you. It’s your least favorite task of the job, probably.

Then, the door’s opening and when you glance up to see who it is, it’s exactly who you’re looking for. Eddie, spinning his car keys around his finger, humming softly.

“So, where can I find a book on rock ‘n’ roll?”

“Dork.”

It was only yesterday that he saw you, and still, you’re a total breath of fresh air.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?”

“Of course I am. What are you doing here?”

“Um, hanging out with my best friend. Put me to work, trouble.”

Best friend, best friend, best friend. The words tug at your heart in two ways. One: even though he’s met so many new people, he still considers you his best. Two: you’re only friends.

“Okay, here,” you pat the desk beside you where the phone sits, “you can call my overdue books for me.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He walks around the desk to go behind it with you, pulling over a chair from the closest table and sitting down.

For every phone call you ask him to make, Eddie puts on some sort of voice. A British accent for one, his terrible high pitched old lady voice for another. You’re hiding your giggles behind your hand and you’re definitely not thinking of what your boss might say to you if she found out.

It doesn’t matter, it’ll be worth it to feel this way. Like no time has passed at all, like you and Eddie are kids hiding out in his trailer with the phone book open making prank calls for hours until Wayne had to cut you off. It’s then and now mingling the way they do when you’ve known someone this long.

The door opens again right after Eddie hangs up the last call, right after you’ve looked at each other and burst out laughing because of the reaction he’d gotten on the other line.

“My stomach hurts, Eddie,” you lean back in your chair, and he wipes at his eyes, “stop making me laugh.”

“I can’t help it, I’m just so funny.”

You slap his arm lightly, shaking your head. “So humble, too.”

You sit up when whoever had walked in comes up to the desk, and you find a young boy and a woman who you assume is his mother.

“Go ahead,” she urges him.

Nervously, the boy steps forward, “are you Eddie Munson?” He asks, and it’s then you notice the small Corroded Coffin pin on the strap of his backpack.

Eddie doesn’t really get approached in Hawkins, usually. The people here didn’t really like him for a long time, for the most part, and then they just sort of seemed to accept it. He doesn’t mind one bit, though. He’s lucky above a lot of things.

“Sure am. What’s up, buddy?”

“Could I get an autograph?” The boy asks.

“Totally!” Eddie stands up, grabbing a sharpie and a piece of paper from your desk before walking around it to greet the boy properly.

He kneels down in front of him, gives him a fist bump and wears the kindest smile you’ve ever known. You’re basically a puddle, watching the interaction with fondness melting in your chest.

“Who do I make it out to?” Eddie asks.

The boy looks up at his mom, who nods at him, and he turns back to Eddie, “Frankie.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie. Sick name.”

Eddie uses his leg to write on the page, scrawling a small message that you can’t make out from where you sit. When he’s done, he looks back at Frankie and hands him the paper.

“There you go, buddy.”

“Thank you!” His smile is so wide, his eyes disbelieving as he shares a look with his mom.

“Thank you,” the woman says. “Sorry to bother you, have a nice day.”

“It’s no bother, no worries,” Eddie tells her, waving at the pair as they leave, “have a good one!”

When he turns back around to face you, you’re smiling all soft and adoringly and he’d sign a million autographs if you’d always look at him that way afterwards.

“What?” He asks, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“That was so cute, Eddie. Did you see his face?”

“What can I say, the people love me.” Eddie shrugs, playing it off. “Think you have some competition for number one fan, trouble.”

Yeah, right. If only he knew about that damn shoebox you have.

“Not a chance, Munson. That spot’s mine.”

-

It feels like you’ve blinked and you’re already driving Eddie back to the airport. Even so, you’re happy knowing that he came home again. It’s like that distance that had painfully wedged itself between you has been growing smaller and smaller, despite him being away.

With every phone call, every laugh, every utterance of the word ‘trouble’ in Eddie’s voice, something welds itself back together, healing over where miles apart had wounded it. Mending like a bone, fractured but never broken.

Beside you, Eddie’s been fidgeting with his rings, twirling them around his fingers as you drive. You’re not sure why, and you haven’t asked, because if he wants to, he’ll tell you and you’ll listen. He’s nervous, that much you know.

Eddie’s been thinking about asking you something for a while, and with how his gut twists when he thinks about not seeing you for months at a time again, he figures it’s worth a shot.

He wants to have you around when he’s doing what he loves, when he feels like he’s on top of the world. He wants you there and he thinks it might feel better than ever that way.

You drive up to the drop-off spot, pulling over and parking the car. Eddie turns to look at you, and you do the same so that you’re facing each other. He’s got a beanie on again, black with a small pair of dice embroidered on the front. There are dark circles under his eyes, and somehow his tiredness makes them shine even more, like the morning sun reflects differently.

“So,” he starts, dragging out the word. “I have a question for you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Well, he’s gotta do it now, no matter the nerves or the fear of rejection.

“Will you come on tour with me?”

“What?” Is what comes out of your mouth because you’re not sure that you heard him right. Sure, you’ve seen him live plenty of times, but not at this stage of his career, not alongside him that way.

“I want you to come on tour with us, with me. We’re gonna be in New York for a bit, and you should be there.”

“Wow, Eddie, I- what about the library? Or traveling? I can’t afford-”

“A week,” he cuts you off, hand finding yours on the center console, his fingers weaving their way between yours so easily, like magnets finding each other, like it’s meant to be that way. “Come for a week, and obviously it’s covered, honey.”

You want to say yes, you want to shout it and kiss him again, really. Instead you worry a little. The library would be fine, you’ve yet to take any vacation days, anyway, but what if he regrets bringing you? What if he’s asking you on a whim and he doesn’t mean it?

“You really want me there?” You ask, gaze flicking down to your hand in his. His rings are cool against your skin, but his palm is warm, and when he squeezes, it’s an unspoken reassurance.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t, trouble. I promise.”

“You’re serious?”

You’re still looking at your hands, and that changes when Eddie ducks his head to catch your eye, his gaze is soft and serious all at once, his smile sticky sweet.

“I want you there. If that works for you, I want you there.” His thumb runs a pattern over your hand, back and forth again and again. “If you want to, you’re more than welcome, and I'll take care of it.”

You might not even let him leave if he keeps talking to you like that, delicate and kind with zero trace of doubt. None at all.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you'll come?” His hand is holding yours tighter, like hope spills from Eddie’s body and needs somewhere to go.

“Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll have to check with my boss, but-”

You’re cut off by Eddie’s arms pulling you into a hug. It’s uncomfortable, leaned across the center console, seat belt digging into your stomach, but you wouldn’t dream of pulling away.

“I’m so glad,” he says.

Your face is hidden in his hair, your smile hidden just the same. You’re glad, too.

“You’re gonna be late, Munson.”

He breathes you in again before pulling back, “trying to get rid of me?”

“Trying to make sure you don’t miss your flight.”

“I know. I’ll see you soon?”

He’s unbuckling his seat belt, pushing the door open, but he doesn’t move to get out until you respond.

“Yeah, you will. You’ll have to call me, though. I don’t know where you’ll be.”

“I’ll call you, honey.”

When he gets out and grabs his bags, when he turns to wave at you one more time before going inside, it doesn’t feel so bad this time. Your chest feels whole, your smile still on your face.

I’ll see you soon. It feels much better than a goodbye.

-

True to his word, Eddie covered everything. Your flight, booking the hotel, and more he probably hasn’t told you because he knows that you have a hard time accepting him paying for everything.

You’d even tried to argue it over the phone, and he’s said “too late, babe. It’s already done.”

Now, with a week ahead of you, you’re in New York City of all places, trailing your suitcase behind you as you exit the airport in search of the car Eddie said he’d send for you. Black, tinted windows, guy in a suit standing by it. It’s easy enough to spot when most people around are wearing sweats.

“Hi, you’re here for me, I think?” You say to the man by the car, telling him your name and getting a nod in affirmation.

“I’m Hank, nice to meet you.”

Hank takes your bag for you, even when you assure him you could do it. So, with nothing else to do, you open the back door and slide into the car, door swinging shut behind you. You’d fully expected to be by yourself, and okay with it, too, but you aren’t.

Right there in the backseat with you is Eddie.

You practically tackle him in the seat, surging forward to hug him, leaning across the leather to get to him. You’re not sure what carried you to do it. Maybe it’s the fact that he paid for everything, that he wants you to be here enough to do that. That he wants you here at all.

The wind is sort of knocked out of Eddie when your arms wrap around his neck, your hug crushing in his favorite way. He’s not complaining one bit. He’s so excited to have you here to see this world of his, for you to be able to see something you helped him achieve, whether you know it or not.

So, with a huff pushed from his chest, his arms curl around you, too. Smooth and easy.

“Happy to see me, trouble?”

“I thought you’d be busy,” you say, because his question is already answered with the tiniest squeeze of your grip around him. “And you jerk, you got me first class?”

You draw back into your seat when Hank gets back into the car, unsure of how much he knows or how much he’ll say. Not that you’re ashamed for hugging Eddie, but you’re afraid that he might read things the wrong way and you’ll have to (painfully, achingly) correct him the way you did with Argyle a while ago.

You distract yourself by tugging your seatbelt over and clicking it into place.

“‘Course I did. Had to get the best for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” you say, and looking at Eddie’s face you don’t feel so worried about Hank anymore. You practically forget he’s there. “But thank you.”

“Goin’ soft on me?”

His voice is teasing. He deflects because he can’t exactly tell you that he chose first class, that he covered everything, that he flew you out to him because he’s burying his feelings for you into it all, that it’s easier to do these things without you realizing what it means than it would be to come right out and say it.

He needs more time for that. Time to get brave, to see if you might feel the same. If you might let him kiss you again.

“Maybe I’m just tired. Getting delirious.” You’re really not, but just to be safe you add on a small jest of, “loser.”

Still, your tone betrays you, affection woven into the word.

You share a smile with him, eyes sparkling the way they seem to do when you’re with each other. The glow that only appears when you’re in the presence of someone you like this much, someone you know this well. It says enough.

Turning your head, you look out the window, skyscrapers surrounding you, the skyline flying by as you go. Your mouth drops open a little in awe, the busy streets and towering buildings a far cry from the small town you’re so used to.

While you peer outside, Eddie looks at your face in the reflection of the window, accomplishment blooming in his chest at the widening of your eyes and the look on your face.

Shit, he’s so happy to have you here.

It’s not long until you reach the hotel, the sight of the city enough to occupy you for the drive. Even from the outside, it looks expensive, and you’re about to tell Eddie you can’t let him pay for this again when he stops you, “I already paid for your room, so don’t say anything. Just enjoy it, okay?”

“You’re insane, Munson. Wow.”

He knows you mean it as a compliment; he can pick out the intentions from your voice with ease by now, he thinks.

“Wait until you try out the bed.” Eddie pulls on a beanie he’d had in his pocket, then the sunglasses that had been hanging from the neck of his shirt. “Ready to go in?”

“Hell yes. Need to wash the airport off of me.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie then turns towards your driver, “thanks Hank. And don’t worry about the bag, I’ve got it.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.”

He opens his door and you follow suit, stepping out of the car and watching as Eddie gets your suitcase from the trunk.

“I can take that,” you offer, reaching for the handle as he walks you towards the entrance.

“Kindly, fuck off, trouble. I got it.”

You hold your hands up in surrender, a little too happy with the way his hand flexes around the handle of your bag, too happy with his insistence to do this simple thing for you.

Even though he doesn’t need to, he stands with you during your check-in process, and he carries your bag over to the elevators and down your hallway, too.

“This is you,” he says, stopping at your room even though you’re the one holding the key.

“How’d you know that?”

“‘Cause I’m right next door,” he says, grinning at you, “I booked it, trouble. We’re neighbors!”

“You’re such a dork.” You’re grinning right back.

-

The crowd’s cheers are piercing. Chants of the band’s name covering every other sound in the venue.

You’re backstage, watching them all warm up in their own ways. Gareth tapping his drumsticks together, Jeff shaking out his hands, Eddie bouncing on his feet. It’s a complete whirlwind of crew setting up, of commanding voices left and right and it’s sort of unbelievable to be standing in the midst of it all.

You move out of the way with an apology when a stagehand moves by you with a guitar. Eddie’s guitar, red and black and the same one he’s been using since he could afford the instrument. The familiarity of it has you smiling.

The memories that guitar must hold, you wonder, the places it’s seen.

With his guitar now over his neck, Eddie turns to you, energy practically rolling off of him, like every shout from the crowd charges him up further.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, stepping close enough to talk into your ear, over the screaming and the bustle of the crew. “So fucking glad.”

“30 seconds until you’re on, guys!” A woman wearing a headset shouts.

Eddie pulls back enough to look at your face, but he stays close, his nose inches from yours, his excitement somehow spilling from him and into you. It’s the sort of infectious feeling you get when it’s obvious someone’s doing what they love, when their passion is palpable.

“Break a leg, Munson.”

“Five seconds!”

“See you on the other side, honey.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, gives it a firm squeeze, and then he’s off, jetting onto the stage behind his bandmates. The crowd roars even lowder, enough to leave your ears ringing but you don’t care. You take it in.

It’s one thing to read about it, to see pictures, to see footage on TV, even. But seeing it for yourself is a whole new kind of crazy.

The size of the audience is a far cry from the shows they used to play at the Hideout, the words to the songs being known and sung just the way Eddie had always dreamed. The pride that swells in your chest is huge, a balloon expanding and expanding only you don’t think it’ll ever pop. There’s always more room to be proud of someone you love.

You stand side stage, exactly where Eddie had told you to. Just far enough that the audience can’t see you, hidden by shadows, but close enough that he can see you.

Eddie hasn’t felt this way at a show for a long time. Not to say he doesn’t love every show, because he does, but sometimes the energy will feel different, better, higher. The crowd is a great one, and even more importantly, you’re here.

You’re here and Eddie flicks his eyes over to you constantly during the show because he just can’t help it. The wide smile on your face makes him want to work harder to keep it there, the way you bop along and mouth the words to his music is something he’ll never forget.

You know the words. Of course, you’d known them to the early songs, when his only performances were in Hawkins and you were at every single one. But even now, albums later, you know the words.

And to top it all off, you’re wearing Corroded Coffin merch, a baggy t-shirt tucked into your jeans. God, he can’t stop fucking looking at you.

Between songs, he goes over to Gareth, and then Jeff, speaking into their ears without a mic so you don’t know what he’s saying. But by the gleam in his eyes, you know he must be up to something.

He walks over to the side of the stage where you stand, trading off his current guitar for his acoustic one, even older and worn than the last. The painted letters reading ‘this machine slays dragons’ scratched and faded by now.

You’d been there when he painted them on, giggling at the lopsided way they turned out, pouting when Eddie smeared paint on your bare arm in retaliation.

He’s gone from playing it in his bedroom in the trailer to playing it for thousands of people.

“Alright guys,” he starts, back at his mic. “We’re gonna slow it down for this next one, that sound okay?”

The response he gets is a wave of cheers.

“Alright, alright. Cool.” He starts strumming, chords you recognize right away. “We’ve got a cover for you tonight. I want to dedicate this song to my best friend. This one’s for you, trouble.”

Your eyes are misty with unshed tears. He’s playing your favorite song, the only one you’d ever learned on guitar because you forced him to teach it to you. Your hands go to your cheeks, warmth bursting through you at his gesture.

And he’d called you ‘trouble.’ Hadn’t used your name because this is something that’s just for you and him. Yours.

Eddie flicks his eyes over to you (again) as he sings, his hands moving with ease on his guitar because he’s known how to play this song for ages. Longer than his own songs, even.

His heart sort of melts at the expression on your face, dripping down his ribs in oozing, pink waves.

Even from where he is, even with the lights beaming down on him, he can see the tears in your eyes, the way your hands hold your face the way they do when you’re overwhelmed. He hopes it’s in a good way, and with the way the words of the song are broken up by a smile on your face, he thinks it is.

After the song, with a quick ‘thank you’ into the mic, Eddie walks offstage, towards you again, to switch his guitar back. Before he puts the other one over his neck, though, he rushes to you.

The arm that isn’t holding his guitar tugs you around your neck into a hug. He’s sweaty and breathing hard, his chest rising and falling where it’s pressed to yours, but you don’t care. You hug him around the waist and squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, loud enough for only him to hear.

“Thank you, trouble.”

A kiss to the top of your head, and he’s off again.

Eddie’s back at the mic quickly, his guitar in place again. “Alright everyone, back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

-

After the show, Eddie brought you back to the green room with the rest of the band, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as soon as he ran off stage to tug you along with him. Insistent but kind in the way he did it, sure not to pull too tight, turning his head to check on you behind him along the way.

Even when you’re worlds away from his, from the fame and the constant travel and the fans, Eddie makes you feel like you’re a part of it. Like you belong here.

There’s a couch pressed to one of the walls in the green room, chairs set up around it for more seating, a table of snacks and water bottles set up near the door.

Conversations happen all around you, crew members, photographers, big paper writers, but yours is seperate.

After the well-deserved congratulations on a great show, you, Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff found your places on the couch, heads turned towards each other. You’re on the edge, Eddie next to you, his thigh, arm, shoulder, all squished against yours.

It’s nice. The warmth of his skin against yours, the post-show adrenaline that has all three of the boys in a great mood.

After all, Gareth and Jeff were your friends, too. Not in the way Eddie’s your friend, of course. You don’t think anyone could ever come close. Being with all of them reminds you of when you’d watch them practice in Jeff’s garage in high school, sitting sideways in a chair they’d left in there for you, legs kicked up on the armrest.

“What a show,” Gareth says. Eddie’s told you before that a good crowd makes a huge difference, and it’s clear in the way the three of them talk about it, the way they smile and shake their heads at what they’ve accomplished.

“I mean, someone flashed me their tits, so it’s definitely a good night,” Jeff, on the opposite end of the couch from you, sighs happily.

You scrunch your nose.

“Gross, dude.” Eddie leans over Gareth to shove Jeff’s shoulder. “There’s a lady present.”

“Come on! She hung out with us in high school. Peak outcast status.” Jeff defends himself. “She’s hardly a lady to me. No offense.”

“None taken, Jeff.” You lean forward to address him, smiling kindly.

“See? None taken, asshole.” Jeff shoves Eddie back.

By doing so, he’s pushed even closer to you, his weight against you further. Eddie stabilizes himself with a hand on your leg, his palm warm through the fabric of your jeans. He leaves it there even when he sits normally.

“So,” Gareth grabs your attention with your name, “how’s Hawkins? Missing us horribly?”

“Let’s just say, the Hideout is pretty boring now.”

“Good riddance.” Gareth teases, giving Jeff a high five.

You know it’s mostly a joke, but it also isn’t, really. These boys weren’t treated right there. Ridiculed for having passions and hobbies that weren’t so conventional. They’re right to be glad to be away, to be glad to be loved now.

Still, there’s a dull ache at the thought that Eddie feels the same. That Hawkins is too small, too awful for him. That you’re not enough for him, having your life there.

Then, you’re reminded of his hand on your leg, and you shake off your thoughts, covering them with a smile.

“You know,” Jeff, the most lacking of a filter of the group, says, “this guy’s a whole lot happier now that you guys are talking a bunch.” Eddie, he means. You know by the way he ruffles his hair.

Eddie shifts in his seat. He wants to tell Jeff to shut up, to stop because he could say too much, could give away too much. He knows he loves you, and he will tell you, he will. But not like this.

He settles for a glare in Jeff’s direction.

“Oh, I’m not-” you start, flustered at the idea of being any kind of reason for Eddie’s happiness, especially being one that causes a noticeable shift.

“No!” Gareth jumps in, “it’s true. He used to grump around the hotel room and yell at us for having the TV on too loud-”

“I did not yell.”

“-and now he doesn’t care ‘cause he’s on the phone with you, anyways.”

“Right!” Jeff again. “First thing he does when we get to a new hotel is lock himself in his room and call you. It’s soooo cute.” He pitches his voice up for the last bit, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, a faux-innocent smirk on his face.

Eddie thinks he might punch Jeff right now. He thinks that often but he’s actually, really considering it (he’s not really, but still). He sounds like an absolute dork, the way Jeff puts it, even though he’s right. Relying on your voice through the phone to make his nights, counting down the minutes until the next time he can call.

He’s so pathetic over you. So pathetic and so in love he doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

He musters an: “okay. Shut up.”

That’s when you look at Eddie, who’s spinning the ring around his thumb on the hand that isn’t on your leg, looking down at his lap all sheepish. There’s a tinge of pink spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears that you can see with the way he’s wearing his hair, a messy bun at the back of his head.

It’s fucking cute. You want to kiss him so bad for it. Instead, you hold the hand that’s on your leg, nudging your shoulder into his.

-

The next day comes and goes. You have the day to yourself to explore New York, wearing in your platform mary janes and doing enough walking to wake up a little sore tomorrow, but it’s great.

You eat brunch by yourself in a quiet cafe, your current read open on the table in front of you. The rest of the day is spent being a full-on tourist, which you’re a little embarrassed about, but it’s a big city, and you definitely aren’t the only tourist around.

Well, the rest of the day minus dinner.

Eddie couldn’t join you because of some press stuff, feature pictures for a magazine, a couple of interviews, a small writing session. Of course, he’d invited you along, but you didn’t want to get in the way, and there were things you wanted to see. It worked out.

Nonetheless, Eddie made sure to meet you for dinner, because there was no way he wasn’t going to do anything with you at all. He’s got about 4 days left, he isn’t going to waste a second.

He’s there before you are, signaling you over before the hostess can offer to seat you, and you send her a smile as you make your way over to Eddie’s table. He’s gotten you both a booth in the far corner, an echo of the table you’ve claimed as yours at Benny’s back in Hawkins.

Eddie trusts this place, it’s private and small enough to have no sign or awning outside. A good place to hide in plane sight.

Despite the reminder, the place is much different than Benny’s. Fancy enough to have you kicking Eddie’s leg under the table at the prices, which he tells you not to look at, tells he’s buying and you don’t have to worry. You still stick to the cheaper side of the menu.

So no, it’s not Benny’s, but Eddie still steals food from your plate, still smudges whipped cream on your nose after convincing you to split some dessert with him.

Over bites of cake he tells you about the song they were working on today—leaving out that he’d written a lot of lyrics about you—and how far they’d gotten.

“It’s not done, but it’s getting there.”

“Does that mean you’ll play it for me?” You ask.

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Eddie taps his chin like he’s contemplating. “You did kick me earlier.”

“Hey! I’ve kicked you before without consequence.”

“You know you’re really not helping your case here, trouble.”

“I’ll hear that song, Munson.”

And it’s left at that, because you will. Eddie can't really say no to you (has he ever been able to?) and he misses playing his songs for you before anyone else. Minus those involved in making it, obviously.

With the bill paid by Eddie, after much stubbornness, the two of you slip out the front doors with twin smiles on your faces, so saccharine it’s insane that the two of you are mostly oblivious to the other’s feelings.

Your smiles fade quickly when a wave of camera flashes go off on either side of the doors, surrounding the entrance to the small restaurant.

There’s a rock in Eddie’s stomach, sinking in dread that you’re with him as this is happening. It’s not what you signed up for and it’s not something you deserve.

“Eddie, over here!”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

The shouts come all at once, overwhelming and intimidating and you have no idea what to do. Your hands shake a little, your heartbeat a rapid thumping in your chest.

Eddie’s instincts kick in quickly, though, having been through this many times before. This time, it’s worse. This time, there’s you.

He tosses an arm over your shoulder and rests his hand on the back of your head, gently urging you to look down so that they don’t get your face, his other hand grabbing your arm lightly to take you to the car where Hank waits.

Eddie opens the back door and urges you in first, shielding the entrance to the car as you shuffle across the seat to give him room. He slams the door as soon as his feet are inside, telling Hank to head back to the hotel.

Your chests are rising and falling in tandem, a matching rhythm. Scared, overwhelmed, anxious, and all for different reasons. You, from the completely foreign situation. Eddie, from how badly it could’ve fucked things up.

“Shit.” He breathes, and then his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks to turn you towards him. “Shit, honey. I’m so sorry. I had no idea they’d- are you okay?”

His touch is grounding, his immediate concern being you and your feelings casting a warmth over your nerves, the sun breaking through the clouds of your mind.

“I’m okay. It just startled me.” You grab his wrists in hopes that your touch can help him, too. “But I’m okay. Don’t be sorry, Eddie. It’s not like you called them there. This isn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t think anyone knew me there.”

“People know you a lot of places, mister rockstar.” You’re trying to ease the atmosphere, but the worried furrow in his brows stays put. “Eddie, I’m okay. I swear.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop with that.” Then, another attempt at brightening things, you try to joke, or maybe you’re thinking out loud. “What if they call us a couple?”

Your voice has a teasing lilt to it, but there’s more underneath it. For once, Eddie can't exactly read what it is.

His thumbs stroke over your cheeks mindlessly, his eyes flicking all over your face. So fucking pretty, he thinks. And so his reply isn’t what you expect, but he can’t help it when you look the way you do and when you’re fighting off his concerns with only a few words.

“Would that be so bad?” He says it more than asks it.

It’s your turn to study him, the endearing blush to his cheeks, the way his bangs fall over his forehead, the way his eyes flick between your own.

“No, I guess not.”

For a split second after you speak, you think he might kiss you again, his face barely inching towards yours, his fingertips easing into your hairline.

And then Hank coughs and Eddie’s hands are gone and yours fall away from him, too.

Eddie clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Be normal, he urges himself. So, he offers, “how ‘bout I play you that song?”

And when you get back to the hotel, that’s exactly what he does.

-

It’s hours later and you’re still in Eddie’s room. There was the song—the fucking song, played acoustically since that’s all he has in the room, his voice and his guitar and his lyrics—and then a movie paused halfway through so that you could change into pajamas in your room, and then the rest of the movie.

Now, it’s idle chatter, the paparazzi speed bump gone from your minds by now, replaced by a debate on whether or not the movie you just watched was good.

“It was so bad, Eddie. Are you joking?”

“You just don’t have the sophisticated movie knowledge to know good cinema when you see it.”

He’s totally lying. The movie was awful, but Eddie likes to argue with you. He likes the way you scrunch your nose or eyebrows at his stupid jabs, likes the way you’ll smile the entire time because you’re never actually arguing.

“‘Sophisticated movie knowledge,’ he says. Like you haven’t just rewatched the same twelve movies your whole life.”

“And those twelve movies are all amazing!”

“I think to consider yourself sophisticated you’ve gotta watch twenty-five movies. At least.”

“Since when are there rules? Knowledge is knowledge, babe.”

“There are rules since now. We can’t go around letting just anyone say they know movies.”

“Who’s we?”

“Um…”

“Hm?” Eddie urges, a smile growing on his face because he hasn’t had this much fun, hasn’t felt this light, in a long time.

“I don’t know.” You give up, shrugging your shoulders. When a puff of breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, the failed holding back of a laugh, you lean over and shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of Eddie’s hotel bed. It’s huge, a king size with like ten pillows and crisp, white blankets. It’s a mess now, the blankets shifted and wrinkled, some pillows tossed on the floor, one on your lap.

“I totally just won that.” Eddie says.

“You did not! That movie fucking sucked, Munson.”

He’s sitting near the end of the bed, half facing you, half facing the TV. After you speak, though, he fully twists towards you, shifting so that he’s leaning on his hands in front of you.

“You wanna say that again?”

“That movie sucked.”

“Okay. That’s it.”

And then he’s on you, his fingers pushing into the soft of your tummy to tickle you because he knows that’s where you’re the most ticklish. This is how he used to win all of the arguments.

“Jerk!” You try to push at his shoulders, words broken by giggles, but he’s relentless. “Get off me!”

“Admit you lost.”

“No.”

“Well, then. Your fault.”

Eddie keeps going until you’re breathless from laughing and attempting to overpower him. As a last resort, you bring your knee up and hit him in the thigh. Being the dramatic he is, Eddie clutches his leg and falls onto the bed like he’s been shot.

“Ow, fuck. How am I gonna perform in these conditions?”

“Oh, stop.” You’re laying beside each other now, your face turned towards Eddie, his up at the ceiling in his fake pain. “I just won, by the way.”

His act falls away after you say it, and you think he’s gonna strike again, tickle you or make another silly counterpoint. Instead, he turns towards you, too, your noses a whisper apart, breath hitting each other's faces.

“I fucking missed you, trouble.”

“Yeah.” Your chest is rising and falling steadily, still recovering from Eddie’s tickles, maybe from his words, too. “Me too.”

Your hair has fanned across your cheek from the movement, and Eddie reaches out to push it away, behind your ear. His fingertips are gentle, featherlight, but they have your face nudging into the touch anyways. Like you couldn’t help it, like it’s an instinct.

And then, in a moment, a simple blink, Eddie’s pushing himself closer, putting his lips on yours. Eddie’s kissing you again.

His hand settles itself fully on your cheek, fingers splayed over your skin, sure to leave behind streaks of gold. Or, at least, you’d think they would. The feeling sparkling in shimmers across your cheek.

Your brain takes a second to catch up, but when it does, you’re already kissing him back, your fingers tucked into his guitar pick necklace to tug him closer. It’s easy, you think, to kiss him. Easy to want this, to move your mouth in rhythm with his.

You’ve only kissed once before, but it’s like you’ve been doing it a lifetime with how right it feels.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was going to kiss you until he was doing it. His thoughts were all you you you and then his eyes were on your mouth and then he was there, kissing you.

He nudges his knee between your legs, shuffling himself even closer to you without breaking it because he’s afraid that if he pulls away, it’ll be the end and he doesn’t want that. He could kiss you forever, could kiss you until he’s completely sick, until there’s no oxygen left in his lungs because all he can breathe in is you.

Your other hand holds his arm, fingertips just under the sleeve of his t-shirt, his warmth seemingly seeping into you through your hand, spreading down your arm and into your stomach and everywhere.

You really like kissing him. You like it so much.

Eddie’s wondering how he’ll ever let you go home after this, how he’ll be able to say goodbye to you at the airport and go back to touring with his bed empty and nobody to give him shit over a movie. Luckily, he doesn’t have to deal with that now.

No, now it feels like he’s dreaming. Because he’s kissing you and it’s even better than he remembered from last time and he wants to be allowed to do this always.

He leaves it at kissing, this thing too delicate to risk, too long spent building up to this and he wants to enjoy every moment. He’d be content if all he could do is kiss you, because it’s the best thing he’s ever had. You’re the best thing he’s ever had.

It’s long before either of you pull away, a push and pull of your mouths, breaking apart for less than a second before jumping back in. When you do pull away, it’s mutual, both of your breathing coming out in pants, both of your mouths slightly agape, eyes locked on each other’s.

Eddie moves first, pulling you over so that your head is tucked beneath his chin, nose pressed against the neckline of his shirt. He’s got a hand tossed over your waist, palm flat on your back, the other holding the back of your head to him.

You fall into place easily, just like you had when he kissed you. One of your hands is wedged under his neck, the other still on his arm. It’s like you’re a set, two pieces meant to fit together just like this.

“I think I won, trouble.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, you wake up in a similar position, having fallen asleep with the TV humming in the background and the haze of your kiss still heavy over you both.

Now, however, you’ve shifted a little bit. Eddie’s on his back, but he’d brought you along with him in his sleep. Or, you’d followed. Either way, your head’s rested on his chest, your arm tossed over his stomach where his t-shirt rides up to reveal a patch of skin.

You’re struck with the thought that you’ve shared a bed before, countless times, but never this close. You’ve cuddled before, too, but it’s never felt like this. Intimate, affectionate, more.

You close your eyes and go back to sleep, not quite ready to give this up.

-

When you’d woken up the second time that morning, Eddie was already up, the door to his ensuite shut with light slipping under the doorway. And when he’d walked out with a “good morning, sleepyhead,” it was like everything was normal.

You’d fallen into your routine with him, and now, after not nearly enough time, you’re at the airport again. The last couple of days a blur, your parting ways this morning even more so.

Hank had driven you again, and Eddie made sure to be in the car with you, to squeeze out every second of time left. You’d hugged each other in the back seat, whispered ‘I’ll miss you’s and ‘thank you’s for the week you had.

The ache slipped into you again, the uncertainty of when you’ll see him next, the feeling of missing him that lingers and lingers.

Still, you’d twisted around and waved to the tinted windows of the car with a smile before going inside, knowing he’d be behind them, really hoping he’d be looking.

Of course Eddie was looking. He peered into the glass doors of the airport until your figure was completely out of sight, until Hank had to ask him if he was good to go. He should have kissed you goodbye, he thinks. Should have kissed you and told you how he felt but he has no idea how. Next time, he’ll say it. He has to.

The trek through the airport is boring, and you’re still early by the time you get to your gate. Hoping to pass time, you head into one of the duty-free shops.

That’s when you see it.

There’s a wall of magazines and newspapers, a whole shelf taken up by a picture of Eddie. A picture of you and Eddie. It’s from that night at the restaurant, and you’re lucky that your face can’t be seen, ducked down and covered by shadows and Eddie’s hand.

Surprisingly enough, the picture isn’t what gets to you, it’s what’s written about it. You drift over and flip to the page indicated on the cover to see the ‘full story.’ It feels like a punch to the gut.

‘Metal Heartthrob Eddie Munson was seen leaving a restaurant in New York City with an unknown woman. How could she get his attention, I’m sure you’re wondering. We’d love to know, too. Is Munson the type to settle for a normie? Or is she only a fling? The second option would make the most sense, we think. Keep reading to learn why she doesn’t fit.’

You slam the paper shut, setting it back on the shelf and standing there like an idiot, your hands shaking a little, your heart in your throat.

“Can you believe it?” A woman says to you, pointing at the damn picture. “He could do way better. I’m just saying.”

“Oh. Yeah,” you offer weakly, walking away and finding a seat at your gate.

It stings when you know you shouldn’t let it get to you, but it’s like every insecurity you’ve had has been splashed onto a page for everyone to see. You don’t belong in his world anymore, you aren’t enough to be in it, he doesn’t want you that way.

It’s a disgusting spiral that eats at you as you sit and wait, as you board your flight, even as you find your seat next to a man who’s already asleep. You can't believe the things people feel okay saying about someone else, and even worse, you can’t believe how they wedge themselves under your skin.

You wrap your arms around yourself, peering out the window and trying to convince yourself that whoever wrote it is wrong, that the woman in the store was wrong. But all your mind can conjure is reasons why they’re right.

You aren’t a model, or an actress, or anything of the sort like the other women Eddie’s dated since becoming the star he is. You never will be.

Worst of all, these last few days you really thought he could feel the way you do, even a fraction of it. You thought that he buried feelings he couldn’t say into that kiss, that maybe, maybe he could be in love with you, even just a little bit.

Now, you feel like an idiot for ever letting yourself think that could be true, your eyes blurring with tears of frustration and a hurt that shouldn’t even be there, but cuts deep.

You’re just friends, it’s always been that way. It’s your own damn fault, really, for falling in love with him. Falling in love with the best boy you’ve ever known, with your best friend, with the only person who makes you feel the way he does.

It’s your fault that you let a tear slip down the slope of your cheek as your plane takes off. You wipe it away quickly.

Eddie feels strange as he lays back onto his hotel bed after dropping you off. There’s a cold present in his room now. The evident and devastating lack of your presence, like the chill that washes over a summer day when the sun is swallowed by a gray cloud.

He already wants to call you, but you’re miles in the air by now.

He really should’ve kissed you goodbye.

-

Eddie ends up calling two days after you get home. He wanted to do it sooner, but the whirlwind got to him, and after a week in one place, it was back on the road. He got caught up, but he has the time now, and he’s been eager to use it.

Your number is practically muscle memory by now, dialed without a second thought. He listens to the ringing, fingers pulling at the threads in the rip of his jeans as he waits sitting on his bed. He counts the seconds until you pick up.

Back in Hawkins, it was hard to believe that only a couple of days ago you were in New York City with Eddie, watching him play, having dinner with him, kissing him. Being home, it feels like the whole trip had been a dream.

You fell into your life here quickly, a full day shift at the library, a visit there from Dustin with a stack of overdue books and questions of how Eddie’s doing.

It’s impossible not to think about him, still. So of course you’d pick up the phone on the chance it’d be his voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

Eddie’s head thumps back against the headboard when he hears your voice, “hey, trouble.”

“Eddie.” You were hoping it was him, yet you’re still a little surprised. You shouldn’t be, he’s been calling often for a while now, but you’ve been feeling nervous ever since reading that stupid article. Insecure, stupid, a whole bunch of negatives that won’t leave you alone. But he’s calling, so you try not to think of that. “How are you?”

“Good! I’m good.” He shuts his eyes, tries to picture what you might look like right now. He doesn’t think his mind could ever do you enough justice. “Jeff totally ate shit during soundcheck today, you would’ve loved it. You’re good?”

“It’s kind of weird being back here.” You say, your honesty spilling the way it does over the phone. You’re braver this way. “But I saw Dustin today. He asked about you.”

“Yeah?” The grin on Eddie’s face is immediate, your voice soft and somehow exactly what he needed. “Did you tell him I’m still the coolest guy ever?”

“Sure,” you drag out the word.

“Whatever. I totally am.” There’s a lull for a second, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end as he shifts on the bed. “You said it was weird being back?”

It’s hard to read his tone through a phone, but he sounds sincere as ever, his voice softer when he says it. You shift a little, too.

“A little. Just getting back into things, you know?” You’re on your back now, eyes fixed on a spot on your ceiling. “New York is a lot different than Hawkins.”

Eddie’s not sure what makes him think it—your voice going quiet, the way it takes you a little longer to answer—but he can tell that something’s off. You sound sad, and there’s a twinge in his chest at the thought of you upset. You’re undeserving of it, and he’s got the urge to break the rules of the universe and jump through the phone to be there for you.

“Yeah, it is. You okay, honey?”

The question strikes you. You hadn’t known that you’d been acting any differently, but you suppose that’s how it goes. You can only hide so much, and those words splashed on a page about you have weighed heavy on your mind since you’d seen them.

But you can’t bring yourself to tell Eddie any of it. What if he hasn’t seen it? Worse, what if he has and he doesn’t want to bring it up because he agrees?

So, you come up with a lazy excuse, “oh. I’m okay, Eddie. Just a long shift today.”

“You sure?” Even though he can’t see you right now, there’s something in him telling him you aren’t being honest. It’s like he’s got a sense for these things when it comes to you, embedded in his heart the way you are.

“I’m sure. I’m just tired.”

He knows that there’s something else to it, but he won’t pry. All he wants to do is help, so he lets himself say what he’s been thinking since you’ve left. “Is it pathetic that I already miss you?”

A smile flickers on your face.

“If it is, I’m pathetic, too.”

“At least we’re in it together, then.”

After you eventually hang up, Eddie can’t fight off the feeling that something's happened. He’s gotta figure it out, he wants to fix it, to pull away any pain you might be feeling. He’d take it for himself if he could.

So, although he’ll get endless shit for it, he finds Gareth and Jeff watching TV in the living room of their suite and figures he might as well ask them.

“Hey,” he starts, standing in front of the TV despite their groans to make sure they’ll listen. “Did either of you say something to her? About… um, you know.”

The way that he doesn’t even have to speak your name for them to know who he’s talking about says enough about the ‘you know.’ He’s slightly worried that they’d told you how he felt about you and it scared you off. He really, really hopes that isn’t it.

“About you being grossly in love with her?” Gareth checks, though he surely didn’t need to.

“Yes, asshole.”

“Nope. I didn’t. Jeff?”

“No, man.” Jeff huffs, “and you’re blocking the TV.”

“I know! I need you guys to help me out.” Eddie starts pacing in front of the TV. He explains your phone call, how he felt like something was wrong, that you were upset. They both listen, though Jeff occasionally tries to lean around to see the screen. “So? What do you think?”

“Maybe it has to do with that article,” Gareth says.

“What article?”

“You know, the one with that picture of you two leaving that restaurant.”

“There’s a fucking article about that?” Eddie twists his ring around his thumb. Shit.

“Oh, yeah,” Jeff points towards the small table near the entryway of the room, “it’s over there. Kinda brutal.”

“You idiots didn’t think to tell me?”

“Um, it’s pretty popular, actually.” Gareth shrugs. “Thought you would’ve seen it by now.”

“How are we idiots for helping you?” Jeff asks.

Eddie flips him off over his shoulder as he goes into his room, shutting the door behind him. He’s still pacing, flipping the pages to find the right one. His stomach sinks when he lands on it and skims the words written.

‘Is Munson the type to settle for a normie?’

He makes an actual sound when he reads it. Something of disbelief and shock. He knew that having the life he does comes with these things, and he’s learned to deal with them when it comes to comments about himself. But you? No fucking way.

If he was ever lucky enough to have you, he wouldn’t be settling, he’d be the happiest he could ever be, probably. Maybe it’s time he finds out.

If you’d read any of this, if you believed it, he can’t help but feel at fault. Sure, he didn’t write it, he didn’t publish it, but he brought you to that restaurant and he’s the reason that paparazzi was there. If there’s anything he can do to fix this, he will.

So, he makes a plan. He calls his manager and gets himself a spot on the next flight out to Indianapolis. He can miss a studio session or an interview, it doesn’t matter.

This is far more important. You’re more important.

-

Eddie doesn’t pack anything for the flight. He doesn’t have the time nor the concern to do it. He’s got the beanie on his head, sunglasses over his eyes, and a hoodie pulled over it all.

He doesn’t take the time to get a driver, so he takes a cab back to Hawkins once he lands in Indianapolis. It’s already dark out, probably way too late to head straight to your place but he does it anyway. No time to waste.

Slamming the cab door, he tells the driver your address and tells him to drive quickly. He gets a thumbs up in return and that’s it. Eddie’s forced to sit there, his leg bouncing anxiously as he waits impatiently to get to you.

He should be tired, should be fighting heavy eyelids and yawns, but he isn’t. Eddie’s determined and nervous, eager to get to you and agonizing over whether or not this is the right move.

But, he’s made his choice. He’ll stand by it. There’s no denying the way he feels, and he’d do anything to make you feel okay.

Eddie spends the drive trying to figure out what he’ll say to you. His thoughts are a mess of speeches and phrases that just don’t sound right. He doesn’t think there’s a way with words that really conveys the extent of his affections, but he’s going to try. He figures a four letter word is a good place to start.

His palms are sweaty as the cab pulls up to your place, your apartment in a building that’s been converted from its original use. Eddie grabs cash from his wallet and hands it to his driver, telling him to keep the change.

He stands there and stares for a minute, taking off his hat and sunglasses now that he’s on a quiet, deserted street. He’s got no idea what time it is, no idea whether he’ll be waking you up or not, but he huffs and heads to your door, lucky that he can access it from outside.

With his fist raised, Eddie takes as big a breath as he can muster, and knocks on the door.

You were having a hard time sleeping, tossing around uncomfortably until you gave up and grabbed the book from your nightstand. You’d been mid-chapter when you heard the knocking, almost convinced you’d imagined the sound.

And then it comes again, four quick taps on your door. You don’t have a single guess for who it could be, but you set your book face down and kick your blankets off, turning on your light on your way to the door and squinting at the brightness.

You’re not sure what exactly you were expecting to find on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t this. Wasn’t him.

“Eddie? What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a second to look you over, his hands stuffed in his hoodie’s pocket. You’re wearing a pair of floral pajama shorts, ruffled at the hem, and your fucking Corroded Coffin t-shirt. Yeah, he made the right choice coming here.

He avoids your question. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” You open the door further and step aside, closing it after he steps inside. “Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”

“I needed to see you.”

Needed to. Like it’s bigger than a want.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, leaning against your door. Eddie’s not far, only a step away from you.

“That article was bullshit.”

“What?”

He takes the step, his feet toe to toe with yours now. You’re forced to tilt your head up due to his proximity, his eyes unwavering and still, the way they always are, soft. You fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“That article about us, it was total bullshit.”

“I don’t-”

“I know you saw it, and it was wrong. You aren’t a fling to me, you aren’t a fucking normie. You’re my favorite person in the entire world.”

Eddie’s found, now that he’s started, he can’t stop pouring things out. He pushes your hair from your face, trails his hand lightly down your arm until he’s tugging yours from behind your back, weaving his fingers between yours.

“My favorite, okay?” He continues, his stare flicking between your eyes, like he’s making sure you believe him. “Whoever wrote that is a shithead and I don’t believe any of it. None, honey. I’m sorry that I put you in that position, you didn’t deserve it. But it’s bullshit.”

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, your fingers squeezing around Eddie’s as he speaks like you’re making sure he’s real. That he’s here and he’s saying these things and he’s looking at you the way he did before he kissed you.

“You-” you clear your throat, voice weak at first from his words. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

His free hand tugs at the neckline of his hoodie, his gaze flicking down to your hands and then back to your face. “Yes.” There’s the lightest blush to his cheeks, “among other things.”

“Other things?”

You don’t want to guess, shouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up and up and up. But your mind does it on its own accord. What if he-

“I love you,” he rushes it out in a breath, but you hear it all the same. “I’m in love with you, trouble.”

“You are?”

Your eyes are wide, your hand tight around his, and Eddie smiles because he can’t help it. He made the right choice.

“I’m in love with you,” he says again. “I have been for a long time, I think. I only figured it out a bit ago, but it doesn’t feel new.”

“Me too, Eddie.” You barely register your own words, your grin spreading wide or the way you laugh in disbelief. Finally. “I love you, too. For a long time. But I knew it.”

His heart squeezes. He wonders how long, how hard it must’ve been for you to keep it inside while he took forever like an idiot to register his own feelings. But he’s got you now, and that’s more than enough.

“Well, you’ve always been smarter than me.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

And then his free hand is cupping your jaw, his nose nudging yours. “Shut up.”

He kisses you then, broken by your smiles but the best one yet. Because it’s out there: you love each other. It isn’t a question of whether or not, it’s a certainty. You’re in love and you can have this. You have this.

Your hand that isn’t clasped in his holds the back of his neck lightly, your fingers tangled in his curls, keeping him close.

Eddie doesn’t go far when he pulls away, his forehead tilted against yours, his hand still on your face. The corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile, and you can’t help but kiss him again. A peck, another, and another.

“I’ve got like 36 hours. Think I could stay?”

You nod, your smile mirroring his. Lovesick, totally stupidly happy.

“Yeah?” Eddie swings your joined hands lightly. You nod again. “Good. I would’ve had to walk back to the trailer if not. I probably would’ve died.”

“Always dramatic, Munson.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“Guess I do.” Your fingers gently tug at tangles in his hair. “You’re sure about this? Even with the distance?”

Eddie lifts his forehead from yours to make sure you can see his face fully. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone.

“I’ve never been more sure. Ever.” And he hasn’t, not even when he knew he wanted to do music forever. Because he’d give it up for you if he had to, though he knows you’d never ask him to. “I’ll call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And you can come with me when you have time, and I’ll come home when I have time. I want this so much, okay? So much.”

“I do, too.” You look at your hands, thinking about how you’d always thought they were meant to be holding one another. “You’re okay with dating a normie?”

“Fuck that.” His hand on your face tilts it just a little, urging your sight onto his. “You’re my trouble. Nothing else matters.”

My trouble.

“And you’d really come back to Hawkins more for me?”

“I’m going to.” Eddie understands why you’re asking. In the past, he’s gone quiet, he’s gotten caught up, but after tonight? He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the band, that’s for sure. “You’ll totally get sick of me, you’ll see.”

“Don’t think that’s possible.” You look at his face, the eyes you could never forget, the dusting of stubble across his jawline. A face that’s been on TV and countless magazines, albums and posters. “I always thought you outgrew this town.”

“I never outgrew you.”

You know there’s more to figure out, more worries to be had, but you’re in love and you can say it. That’s what’s important now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

The shoebox that sits in your closet has served you well, but you won’t need to pick at the scraps anymore. Won’t need to hold onto this boy through magazines and newspapers.

My trouble.

When you kiss again, you’re sure that you’ll never want to be anything else.

♫♩♪♬

hi!! thanks so so much for reading these two <3 i’ve had so much fun with rockstar!eddie and i hope u guys did too!!! if you did, a reblog would mean so much <3

i don’t usually do tag lists, and i probably won’t again after this, but the demand was high for this one (like, crazy! thank u so much!) so here’s the rockstar!eddie tag list

@5sosjay @paleidiot @emma77645 @onceuponathreetwoone @copycatkillerfics @munsonmecrazy @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @lbhmoon @icant-hangout-imdrumming @freakymunson @blackcatwoman @l3xiluve @littlestarfighter03 @yujyujj @totally-bogus-timelady @kimmi-kat @spitefulscreenwriter @amira0303 @mylovelycrazyworld @esme-viridian @pippipsquirtsquirt @brassreign @madneedshelp @emilyslutface @alana4610 @crystalr @kirisuteg0men @hesvoid34 @cutiecusp @nerium21 @angel-ann-pops

[bcyhoods]

lovefool — “you’re welcome to stay, if you want” w eddie!!

librarian!reader is always calling my name so i needed to do something before i combusted | 1.1k fem!reader

Eddie’s got his feet propped up on the study table and his chair teetering on its hind legs. The dull sound of his rings tapping the hardcover in his hands fills the immediate space. Despite the fact that he’s actually read this particular horror novel at least thrice before, today it only serves as bookworm-ish guise.

The boy aimlessly flicks through the pages, eyes reflexively leaping over entire paragraphs to peak over at the reception desk. With each glance, he feels his heart start racing, his stomach starts flipping. And it has nothing to do with Stephen King, everything to do with you.

You’re sitting behind the polished wood with a pair of deep auburn-colored reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Every so often, they slide down and prompt you to scrunch the muscles in your face and wiggle them back up. Whenever you ultimately give up and push them back into place with your finger, Eddie smiles to himself.

The pair of you have spoken quite a handful of times, but it only took Eddie seconds within that first interaction to be smitten. You’d worn a pretty color on your lips, an even prettier smile behind it. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the tower of Tolkien novels he’d placed in front of you to check out, then you’d complimented his taste, then his hair. Then as if to seal the deal, you reached underneath the desk to retrieve a flimsy bookmark with a map of Middle Earth and placed it on top of the stack.

Now, he’s proud to be a frequent library-goer. Admittedly he feels a little silly about it, at first. But the flash of recognition that crosses your face before you wave at him makes him forget.

You float through the building, burning hot under his watchful eye, shutting off yellow desk lamps and bidding farewell to patrons with a sweet smile. The closer you get to him, the more the familiar aroma of cigarettes and his cologne seem to engulf you. It’s your turn now to have your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your saccharine voice cuts through the silence and has him immediately closing his book. He gazes up at you, big brown eyes boring right into yours. Like he knows you’re about to swat his feet, he grins and kicks his legs down onto the floor.

“Hey,” he sighs out.

“Carrie’s that good, huh? ”

Eddie’s head twists in confusion. It’s like your presence sent him face first into a stupor, and now he’s racking his brain trying to figure out what you were asking. Only when you smirk and point at him does he realize you’re talking about the book. The book that’s in his hand, that he was meant to be reading this whole time.

“Oh! Yeah, Carrie,” he confirms with a gummy smile as he waves the novel up, “What can I say? The lady calls to me. You finished it yet?”

You wince at the question. A few weeks ago you’d each recommended each other a book, per Eddie’s suggestion. He’d read your recommendation within the week, returning it with a broad smile that made you feel giddy. It’s taken you a little longer. He sees it all over your face and gasps.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read it, yet? You’re really hurting my feelings here, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your heart catch in your throat and stumble on your words for a second. “It’s—I just…I started it! I promise. I just haven’t had time to read the whole thing,” you explain through a shy smile.

Eddie chuckles at your suddenly bashful demeanor before an idea pops into his mind. Even thinking about it makes him blush. He doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on the idea of your rejection before he’s blurting it out.

“I can read it to you.”

You watch him, surveying his expression to find any hint that he’s joking. But he’s got a doe-eyed look on his face. He’s dragging one of his rings across the curve of his lips with uncertainty.

“You’d…? You’re kidding,” you decide matter-of-factly.

He vigorously shakes his head, hair flying in every direction as he throws his hand over his chest. A bright smile shines across his face. “Cross my heart. I’ve been told I got a shot in the audiobook industry. Might even hear me on one of those little cassettes in the future.”

The boy is lying through his teeth. It’s rare that someone indulged in a positive conversation with him, let alone complimented his voice. Though, it makes you huff out a laugh, maybe a little too loud for a library setting and he swears his heart is about to break out of his rib cage.

You nod at him rather emphatically and agree, “Must be your charisma.” Your hand drops to pick at the chipped wood of the table and your gaze drops with it to hide from him.

“Hey, your words.” He tosses his hands up in the air, smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat before asking, “What do you say? Think it’d be good practice for me to have a live audience.”

He looks so genuine, a soft expression taking over rough features. His leg bounces under the table with anticipation. His fingers move to where yours are, and he hesitantly reaches his pinky to your own. It’s just a tap, but it sends a tingle up your entire arm and has you reciprocating the touch.

He’s making it so hard for you to say no. You glance up at the clock on the nearby wall and frown. “Well, right now I’m kinda supposed to tell you that the library closes in a few minutes.”

Eddie spares a glance behind you and realizes that he’s the last person on this floor, maybe the entire building.

“Oh. Yeah, well…some other time.” His shoulders sink just slightly before he’s standing upright and smiling at you. “I’ll get out of your hair, m’lady.” He bends at the waist to bow at you, waving his arms theatrically.

You’re smiling at him again, something warm and entirely too sweet. As he turns to the exit, you feel something tug at your chest. Like he’s taking a piece of you with him. It has you calling out before you’re able to stop yourself.

“Eddie?”

He twists back and hums.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I mean I’d love to take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind following me around while I reshelve some returns?” A nervous laugh falls from your mouth as you hitch your thumb towards the non-fiction shelves. Eddie spots your other hand still picking at the chipped wood.

He beams at you with flushed cheeks and a puffed chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[soda-sparkss]

HOME-BOUND

Its me again, hi <3 I've made yet another Welcome Home Au called Home- Bound where You're on a Train to Escape Your Mundane Life. Every friendly neighbor has their own cart on the train, with Julie's being the first one you're seated at and Wally's being the conductor car. Make your way through this whimsical little train ride that seems to last for Eternity! Where are you headed? Who knows! Trying to Escape the train once you're on will result in a proper Punishment. If you get off before the train Stops, there will be no moving from the spot that you landed on. Any physical or emotional violence caused to the train will result in consequences varying in severity depending on how much damage you've done. Please do Remember that the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your H Oh, and one more thing! Don't Forget Your Ticket.

Cars are in order starting from the back. Sleeping/Boarding Car Jullie's Car Poppy's Car Sally's Car Howdy's Car Frank's Car Eddie's Car Barnaby's Car Wally's Car/Conductor Car

First off, We have our Humble Conductor, Wally Darling!

Being at the front of the Train, Wally has many responsibilities as a Conductor. Once you board the Train, he will come back to the Boarding Car to punch your Ticket. It is Imperative that you have it, lest you be sent right back to the station!

Second up is Barnaby B Beagle! Wally's very very very close "Friend".

In this lovely dog's car, he can be found cracking so many fun jokes! Heck, he has an entire book full of Comedy skits from passengers who were Fortunate enough to make it up to his car all the way from the Boarding car! Though, if you want to leave, you'll have to give him another skit to add to his book!

Next up is the darling Mailman, Eddie Dear!

This dearest mailman send out all the letters and Tickets to future Residents of the Home Bound Express. He's quite the workaholic, especially during the nighttime hours! If you happen to make it to his car, be in for a load of sorting letters, snacks, and lovely stories about all of his travels on the Train! Poor guy is a afraid of snails too..

Next up is the trains Librarian, Frank Frankly!

If you enter his car, you'll be greeted with books up the Wazoo! He will insist you look at any one that interests you. The books are written by him and consist an encyclopedia of facts about every existing bug on the planet. Not one bug left out! Unfortunately, if you want to leave, you'll have to take a quiz. Find a book about a specific bug he tells you about, read through it, and then tell him what you learned. Careful not to let the bookflies(book butterflies!) distract you! After you tell Frank the facts you learned, you have to navigate your way through a maze in the garden behind his library. Don't worry, the bugs will guide you!

Next up is the 'local' Grocer, Howdy Pillar!

Who can resist a Pillar who advertises his wares so well? He has everything from the little doodads to wild thingamajigs! Careful you don't get lost in the maze of his stock. If you want to leave, however, you must buy something or solve a little riddle of his!

Next up is the ONE AND ONLY!! Sally Starlet!

This Star is always putting on a Show!(With sleep and snack breaks, of course.) Her seemingly endless act will have you wrapped up in a world completely different from your own! Her whips and twirls will thread a story right before your very eyes! It's Almost Impossible to Look Away!! Also, nighttime shows are provided for people with insomnia, headphones are provided for those with sensory issues, plushies and hand santizer are provided for people with anxieties or obsessive compulsions.

And following right behind her is Poppy Partridge!

Who doesn't want an absolute sweetheart to take them under her wing and provide a comfortable place to Relax! Treats are baked for anyone who wants one! Beanbag chairs cots, futons, and a plethora of cushions are provided, as well as DvD players and a TV for Entertainment. Careful, too many sweets from this lovely Partridge will send you into a Deep Sleep.

Then we have the lovely Julie Joyful!

Julie is so playful! If you step foot into her car, you're in for a whole day full of fun games like Tag, Tic Tac Toe, and Hide and Seek! Hide and Seek is her favorite game! Though I can't say the same for her victims Passengers.

And then the Train himself, Home!

While Home is the train, pictured above is his physical manifestation. If he doesn't have a cup of tea, he'll probably be smoking Candy Cloud, which is their form of tobacco.

And Last but not Least, You!

That's right, You! YOu reading this right now! Go ahead and put yourself in the au, draw yourself interacting with the neighbors! You can use this base, I'll post a blank version soon enough! A HUGE huge thank you to @mumimoondrops and @severalbonez for helping me with designs and the story! Mumi is a co-owner of the au. Notes and Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in Welcome Home. They all belong to @partycoffin. And while two people have already made train conductor au's I wanted to make my own story and designs for the cast! Design Inspirations: @chez-cinnamon, @clownsuu Tags: @3amclothesmonster, @dottyorange, @doggwwoggy23, @kennethmoop, @snowshinefivez5, @larzuen, @nyx-mrbones-2360, @vixxproductions, @sedittedice, @mumimoondrops, @ari-jay, @strugglebugglemoth, @wheatlover, @unpleasantbread, @mockhound, @purplefoxy14, and @anonymous-paperbag

[strangersmunsons]

read 'em and weep #3

you and Eddie spend more time together. romance blossoms.

Chapter 3 Eddie x Bookworm!Reader Series Read Ch. 2 -> Here!

Contains: Eddie x Reader, fem!bookworm!reader, lowkey shy!reader, new love and giddiness all around, and a brief cameo from Steve. No mention of reader's physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Word Count: ~5.5k this took me sooo, ridiculously long to finish. work, writer's block, etc kept getting in the way! hopefully this is okay. i've spent far too much time at this point editing & second-guessing everything, i finally just had to stop overthinking & post!

You’re lying on your bed, nearly dozing when the telephone on your nightstand starts ringing shrilly.

The shock of it startles you from your half-sleep, and you blearily push yourself upright from the prone position. One hand smashes into the pages of the magazine you’d been skimming through, which slips forward on the soft bed covers.

Too comfy to really want to move, you stretch over and clumsily pick up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Eddie,” says the voice on the other end. There’s a fuzziness around the edge of his words as they crackle through the speaker.

It’s not the first time he’s rang you at this hour, but a thrill still shoots through you at the sound of his voice. “Hi.”

Eddie has quickly become a fixture in your life over the past few weeks. Your friendship continued to blossom with each visit he paid you at the library, where he gave you live updates on his reading progress, not even bothering to wait until he was finished before sharing his opinions. He was nice, and funny, and you became increasingly fond of him.

Then one day, while he was chatting your ear off about something or other, it hit you: you think Eddie’s pretty. His face is sculpted but soft, everything just looks so soft. The rounded chin and cheeks, the bulbous tip of his nose that looks like the perfect place to plant a tiny kiss…

He had kept on talking, but you could hardly hear what he was saying. Suddenly all you could focus on was the prickly warmth creeping up the back of your neck and into your ears. It was reminiscent of a feeling you’d had once or twice before around him, but this time it came in swinging. And finally, you could see it for what it really was. Oh.

“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I know it’s kinda late.”

“No, I was still up.”

You sound a bit groggy, but if Eddie notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Okay, good. How are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?”

“I’m alright,” he echoes back wryly. “How was your day? Did you have to work?”

“Yes, I did. It was good.” You reconsider, an uncomfortable moment spent with your boss flashing back to you, and grimace. “Mostly, anyway. How was your day?”

“Listen, don’t worry about me yet, I’m trying to ask about you. Tell me about your day, why was it only mostly good?”

Eddie seems to have a knack for that; saying things that make your heart flutter in a very nonchalant way, like it’s no big deal. You’re glad this conversation is over the phone, so he can’t see the dopey look on your face.

“Well…” You bite your lip. “It’s not a big deal, but do you know the librarian at all?”

“Marissa? Unfortunately. She’s kind of a bitch.”

“Yeah, she is. And today she overheard me telling another clerk what I have planned for Story Time this weekend, and she doesn’t like it. So she got kind of nasty with me.”

“Why? Are you reading something very inappropriate?”

“I want to read them this Dr. Seuss book, Bartholomew and the Oobleck, do you remember that one? And then for the craft period, we’ll make the oobleck. It’s really easy, just cornstarch and water. But she’s saying that I shouldn’t do it because it’s going to make too much of a mess.”

“Oobleck is supposed to be a really thick slime, right? The whole point is that it gets everywhere and they can’t get rid of it?”

“Well, yeah,” you admit. “So she might actually have a point.”

“Are you kidding?” he replies brightly. “They’ll love that shit. You should do it anyway, I think that’s a sick idea.”

“Thank you.” There’s a touch of pride in your voice. You really do try your best to come up with fun and interesting things for the kids. Encouraging them to read and sparking their creativity is all you ever hope for. “I also think it’s a great opportunity to teach them all about non-Newtonian fluids.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, and it digs sharply into your ear.

“You’re funny sometimes, you know that?”

You were being serious, but if it means you’re making Eddie laugh, then you suppose you’ll take it.

He continues without waiting for an answer. “If you need help cleaning up after, I can be around for that, since I don’t work until later.”

Immediately, your brain conjures up visions of green goo splattering everywhere, getting stuck to the low tables and entrenching itself into the carpet. You can’t bring yourself to inflict that upon him. “That’s awfully sweet of you, but you absolutely do not have to do that,” you reassure him.

“I’ll be there,” he says firmly.

“No!”

“I wanna play with the oobleck. I’ll be there.”

“Fine,” you concede with a laugh. “I won’t argue with that.” There’s a warm pause, mutual affection running through the miles of telephone wire connecting the two of you. You fiddle with a small pilled spot on the bedspread. “So how’s the latest book coming along?”

“Well,” he heaves out with a great sigh, “I finally finished Left Hand of Darkness, which was really good. I can’t say I liked it better than Earthsea, but I enjoyed it. I get why you like it so much.” 

“Comes down to personal preference. I’ve never met a bigger fantasy nerd than you, so Earthsea would be tough competition.”

“For my own sake, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment. Oh, and Genly and Estraven definitely had sex when they were alone on the ice together. I don’t care if they say otherwise.”

“Oh, they totally did!” you concur with a giggle.

“They were definitely kemmering, or whatever it is you’re supposed to call it. Anyway, I’m on to Geek Love now, and frankly, I’m shocked that you recommended this to me.”

“Why? You don’t like it?” It is a little grotesque, but you thought he’d be into that.

“No, I do. But I just can’t believe that a sweet thing like you would read a book like this.”

Your cheeks flood with heat as the word bounces around your head. Sweet, sweet, sweet — he thinks I’m sweet. “I like all kinds of books,” you mumble, and mentally kick yourself for not coming up with something more flirtatious to say back. The banter came a little more easily before you realized just how much you like him.

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Just you wait. I’ll have you reading the Brontës in no time.”

He huffs in disbelief. “Right. That’s likely.” He clears his throat. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” There’s an edge to his voice you’re not used to hearing. 

“Shoot.”

“Do you wanna come and hang out at my place this weekend? We could get food and watch a movie, like Lord of the Rings or something, if you still wanted to see it. Or we can go to the video store and pick something out. You can choose.”

So far, Eddie’s only ever come to visit you at the library. The prospect of spending time with him alone — truly alone, without coworkers and patrons lurking just around the corner — makes your heart hammer dizzyingly against your ribs. You keep your answer simple. “Yes. I would like that.”

“Awesome.”

Wayne can hear one side of the discussion drifting through the trailer when he comes home, kicking his work boots off and leaving them by the door. Halfway across the living room he spies his nephew in the kitchen, and his eyebrows shoot up at the state of him.

Eddie’s leaning with his back against the wall, the phone held in place between his cheek and his shoulder. One ringed hand is twirling the phone cord around his finger as he speaks in a low voice, goofy grin plastered on his face.

They make eye contact across the trailer. Eddie immediately straightens up and tries to neutralize his expression.

Wayne snorts out a laugh.

“So, um, so anyway—“ Eddie fumbles with the phone “— does six o’clock work?” He turns to the side in a poor attempt to muffle the conversation. 

Wayne steps into the kitchen and tosses his jacket and lunchbox across the table. He makes a kissy-face at Eddie.

Eddie gives him the finger.

The day Eddie is meant to see you takes forever to arrive. However, as he stares at his reflection in his dresser mirror, he starts to feel like maybe it actually came way too quickly.

He’d spent the past half-hour wildly picking through his closet, combing his hair with his fingers, trying to figure out how he should present himself as more and more clothing gets flung around the room. Eventually he gave up on his hair, and came up with an ensemble he liked, but would you like it? Would you like him?

To the untrained eye, Eddie is wearing his standard Eddie-uniform: tight black pants and a band t-shirt. On the surface, it’s a regular outfit for him. But if one is a truly acute observer, they should clearly be able to see that there are subtle variations within this basic framework he’s donning that scream “Eddie Munson is Trying to Impress a Girl!”

His ripped jeans have tears that expose swaths of skin not just on his knees, but his thighs as well (scandalous!) and he’s wearing his coolest Slayer t-shirt, the one that he ripped the sleeves off of so that his tattooed arms are on full display. And it’s just loose enough so that when he leans forward, the fabric gives way so you can catch a glimpse of his chest, with its sparse hair and winking nipple ring.

It’s all very deliberate.

But as much as Eddie doesn’t want to admit it, he’s nervous. While he becomes increasingly enamored of you, unable to keep the sly compliments and saccharine terms of endearment from slipping out, you get more shy. He still hasn’t figured out if that’s a good or bad sign.

Both of you seem to be hovering in romantic limbo, tiptoeing along the fine line between friendship and flirtation. Playful and insecure. Tender and uncertain. Was your puckish rapport a new experience, or were you like that with every person you met? Did you like it when he phoned you late at night and called you honey and sweetheart, or were you just too polite to correct him? Did you hold his name and face in your soft heart when he wasn’t right there next to you, like he did yours?

He’d chickened out at the last minute, dancing around the word ‘date.’

Eddie could be smooth on occasion, sure. But it was different when you knew you didn’t actually have a shot in hell with the person you were talking to. He didn’t have to be afraid of rejection when he already knew it was coming.

Like, he could flirt and wink at Chrissy Cunningham all he wanted and invite her to the Hideout because he knew full-well that she was never really going to show up to watch his band play — let alone dump her boyfriend to go out with him. So he could ham it up, make a fool of himself, and then shrug it all off when nothing happened.

Only a few girls had ever taken him up on his offers. And they always ended up being private affairs; nobody wanted to risk being seen out at dinner with Eddie Munson. Instead there were quick and clumsy trysts in the back of his van or in the woods behind the school, and he was reduced to a novelty notch in the bedpost, a secret for them to whisper about at slumber parties, the eponymous who of a giggly “Guess who I hooked up with!” 

It took Eddie a minute to catch on. He remembers the first time, when he hooked up with a girl at a party he was dealing at during his junior year. The next school day, he tried approaching her in the hallway as she chatted with a fellow cheerleader, and she quite literally turned on her heel and ran — but not without shooting him a look of such intense disdain that it made Eddie physically flinch. Her friend snapped her locker shut, and snickered knowingly at Eddie before following suit.

He won’t lie, that one stung. He’d stood there in mild shock at being brushed off so harshly, while other students milled about, completely oblivious to his distress; someone deliberately knocked their shoulder into his as they passed by, causing the handle of his lunchbox to slip out from his sweaty fist. It fell to the floor with a loud clang that echoed about his ears.

Eddie had already had a pretty good idea of what other people thought of him, but boy, did it really sink in that day.

It set the framework for what his love life would look like for the rest of high school. Which maybe wouldn’t have been so horrible to deal with, if only he hadn’t been in high school for two years longer than he’d expected to be.

So he leaned into it. It was really the only thing he could do, and hey, at least it meant that he could get some every now and then. What did it matter if they refused to make eye contact with him the next day? He didn’t need all that relationship mess, anyway. He didn’t care.

He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t care — if he tried to tell himself that one more time he was going to explode.

In reality Eddie’s a pretty lonely guy. But since meeting you? He’s hopeful for the first time in a long time that maybe his life doesn’t have to be that way.

Eddie raps on your front door with his fist, biting the inside of his cheek. Pizza and movies. Easy breezy. There has never been a more relaxed person than you, ever, he thinks, buzzing with nervous energy.

After a moment the door swings open. “Hi,” you greet him, stepping out onto the welcome mat, tugging at the shoulder strap of your purse. 

“Hey,” he responds with an easy smile on his lips, one that doesn’t betray his anxiety. He gives you an approving once-over and lets out a low whistle. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

And you really are. He’s never seen you in anything but your work clothes, so he appreciates this chance to see you in an outfit that’s true to your style. 

You let out an embarrassed chuckle and wave a hand at him. “Oh, please.” 

“No, I’m serious! You look very nice.”

You can hardly meet his gaze, a flustered grin forming on your own face. “Thank you. So do you.”

He shrugs modestly, but his dimples show. He gestures to where his van sits parked by the curb. “Shall we?”

The interior of the van is plush and blue and smells of tobacco and something vaguely minty. Eddie insists on running around the vehicle so he can open the passenger-side door for you, and holds out his arm for you to grasp while you climb in; an unexpected act of chivalry.

“Wow, I’m getting the full VIP treatment here, aren’t I?” you ask him jokingly as you clamber onto the seat.

“Get used to it, sweetheart. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman of the highest caliber.”

“I’m sure you are. I’ll bet Emily Post writes to you for etiquette tips.”

Eddie turns the engine on, and music starts blaring from the speakers. He quickly turns the volume down, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I, uh, I like it loud.” He gestures to a shoebox tucked away on the floor by your feet. “There’s a bunch of other tapes in there, you can pick a different one if you like.”

You’re delighted to realize that you have an opportunity to tease him. You tilt your head up, lips pouting as though you’re deep in thought. “Okay. Let's say I pull out a different tape.”

Eddie looks at you quizzically, but plays along. “Okay. Let’s say you do.” 

“Now, hypothetically, I would do this because I want to hear something different from what’s playing currently. Right?”

“Right…”

You reach into the box and pull out the first tape you make contact with, and end up with the latest W.A.S.P. album. You cock an eyebrow at him while you hold out the tape for him to see. “So riddle me this: what are the chances that this album — or any of these albums, for that matter — sound any different from what you’re playing right now?”

Eddie attempts to stifle a laugh and fails. “Hey now,” he says, trying to sound stern, “there is something incredibly special and nuanced about every single tape in that box. I would never deign to compare Ride the Lightning to The Headless Children. Completely different. Worlds apart, in fact.”

You shrug, pleased with yourself. “If you say so. You would know better than me.”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be metal,” he promises, peering over his shoulder as he backs out onto the street.

You continue rifling around in his box of tapes. “Do you really think I could be? My job is reading picture books to preschoolers.”

“Totally. There’s nothing more metal than the public library.”

The first stop you and Eddie make is at his favorite local pizza joint, where he insists on paying for dinner himself — he wouldn’t even let you throw a dollar in the tip jar. The shop is conveniently located in the same strip mall as the Family Video, so after putting your order in, the two of you cross the road to browse for a movie while you wait.

When you enter the store, you’re greeted by the little tinkling sound of bells and a bored ‘Welcome’ from the employee seated at the counter.

The cashier is cute — not as cute as Eddie, you think — and probably about the same age. When he finally looks up from the counter and sees the two of you together, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise before furrowing again as he makes eye contact with Eddie.

The two boys stare at each other in mutual distaste. He nods coolly at Eddie. “Munson.”

Eddie’s reply is flat. “Harrington.”

As you approach the counter, the employee’s name tag comes into view: Steve. 

Eddie strides past him and doesn’t stop, even when Steve calls out to his retreating back —

“You still haven’t brought back Spinal Tap!”

“I know,” Eddie replies, not bothering to turn around.

You follow Eddie across the store, skimming through the colorful titles. He stops abruptly in the middle of an aisle, and you bump softly into his back.

He gives you an amused smirk from over his shoulder. “Easy there.”

“Sorry,” you reply, giving him a little smile that’s all too apologetic for his liking. He can’t resist the urge to reach out and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go again.

You beam at him.

“So what are we feeling?” he asks, feeling needlessly scrambled at the brief but lingering affection. “Something scary? Funny?” He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Romantic?” 

Your response is automatic. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Eddie frowns at you. “I told you, it’s your choice. I already picked out a two-hour cartoon.”

He’s being very sweet. But you want to pick something that he’ll enjoy, too.

Acting on a little tip from your new friend Steve the Cashier, you ask Eddie —

“So you like Rob Reiner movies, huh?”

Eddie slaps The Princess Bride down on the counter in front of Steve. 

“Nice vest,” he comments.

Steve shoots him a dirty look. “Your late fees are gonna pile up.”

Eddie ignores this.

Steve sighs and begins the checkout process. Eddie can’t help noticing Steve casting you sidelong glances, his eyes flitting up and down your figure appreciatively. 

Eddie clears his throat pointedly.

“Here.” Steve pushes the film back over the counter.

Eddie grabs it and heads for the door without saying anything; you, confused and a little put off by the attitude, offer Steve your most polite “Thank you!” before scurrying out after him. 

Eddie holds the door for you when exiting, a pleasant expression on his face that’s a stark contrast from the one he wore when talking to Steve. When you’re both back outside, you can’t help but wonder what that cashier ever did to him.

“I take it you’re not a fan of Steve from Family Video?” you press.

Eddie looks sheepish. “You caught that, huh?”

“It was kind of hard to miss.”

He hesitates. “Well, we went to school together, and he wasn’t very nice. Let’s leave it at that.”

You simply nod, understanding his reluctance to say more. Reliving your high school trauma isn’t exactly something you’re interested in right now, either.

As you and Eddie head back across the street, your swinging arms cause your hands to brush against one another. After a moment’s hesitation, he clasps your hand in his, and your fingers intertwine, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

Eddie starts the drive home, and he feels a wave of apprehension.

He told you he lived in Forest Hills early on, and you didn’t bat an eyelash. But with you being so new in town, he wasn’t really sure that you even knew it was a trailer park.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed, exactly, or even that he thinks you’ll really mind — nothing you’ve said to him thus far indicated that his economic status would bother you — but being called trailer trash as many times as he has…well, it’s enough to make anyone defensive.

By the time he pulls up to the Munson trailer, he still hasn’t dared to look across the cab to see your reaction. “Well, here we are!” he exclaims in a hearty voice that doesn’t match what he’s feeling inside at all.

While you fumble between unbuckling your seatbelt and balancing the pizza box on your lap, Eddie darts out of the van so he can help you climb out again. When he opens the door he’s relieved to see that you don’t seem phased by your surroundings; you flash him the same happy smile you always do, and it gives him a boost of confidence.

Hopping up the porch steps, he unlocks the rickety front door and gestures for you to enter, bowing slightly. “After you, miss.”

You curtsey back. “Thank you, sir.”

Eddie pretends that that has less of an effect on him than it actually does.

Inside, he watches you peer around the trailer in interest. He’s glad that he did a deep-clean yesterday: there’s no clothes hanging over the furniture, any garbage he could find was bagged up and taken out, and he wiped down all the flat surfaces with the lemon-y spray cleaner that lives beneath the sink. He even dumped out all the ashtrays; when Wayne saw that, he commented that he must really like this girl.

“That’s a lot of mugs,” you comment, looking admiringly at the shelves that display years of Wayne’s little hobby. “I’m impressed.”

“They’re my uncle’s,” says Eddie as he kicks off his shoes. “I keep telling him he’s got a problem.”

“No, they’re great,” you insist. “Everybody collects something. Don’t you?”

Eddie pauses, hovering by the boxy television. “I guess so. Music. D and D shit.” He sets the pizza down on the coffee table. “Here, have a seat. I’ll get us some plates.” 

Eddie walks to the kitchen and starts rifling through the cabinets for some paper plates and napkins. You call out to him from your seat on the worn sofa. “Is your uncle working right now?”

“Yeah.” Eddie pads back into the living room. “He works a lot of night shifts.”

“Are all Munsons generally nocturnal?” you ask, referring to his bartending gig at The Hideout, a job that keeps him busy well into the night.

Eddie chuckles as crouches by the coffee table, pulling off two slices of greasy pizza and laying one on each plate. “I guess you could say that,” he says, handing you your share. Brown eyes find yours and he nudges your knee with his elbow playfully. “But it leaves me free to come and bother you at work during the day, doesn’t it?”

You dig the toe of your sock into the rug and look down at the food instead of him. “I wouldn’t call you a bother.”

His full lips turn up at the corners. “You wouldn’t?” He rests his hand on your leg, and his fingers swirl a gentle pattern over your skin.

You swallow. “No.” The word comes out subdued and breathy.

Eddie doesn’t move, but stays positioned by your knee, staring up at you. “Look at me again,” he says softly, leaning in a little closer.

You do as he asks and it’s almost too much. His eyes are huge and warm and they look like everything you’ve ever wanted.

A few seconds tick by, and then the phone rings and Eddie’s standing up again, whatever momentary spell the two of you were under, broken.

“Hang on,” he says, face tinged pink.

You settle back into the sofa and squirm, feeling feverish. 

Eddie wrenches the phone off the hook in annoyance. “Hello?” When the person on the other line answers, he huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away so his back is towards you. Still, you catch snippets of the exchange:

“Henderson, I said tomorrow, okay?” Eddie hisses in aggravation. “No, I don’t care if you don’t wanna do it in the morning, man. I’ve gotta work tomorrow night. You guys either come early or it’s not happening.”

You watch him curiously.

“Suck it up.” Eddie pauses to listen to the person speak again, and turns and glances at you across the trailer. Then his tone becomes noticeably gentler. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know. See ya.”

He hangs up the phone with a sigh, and his face relaxes into a smile again.

He strolls back into the living room and claps his ringed hands together. “So! Are you ready to experience a cinematic masterpiece?”

Some three hours later, you and Eddie are slumped back against the worn cushions, now one and half movies deep. Over the course of the night you’ve slowly closed the distance between your bodies, so his leg is pressed against yours. Eddie has one arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers dancing just above the skin of your collarbone. Both of you are stuffed to the gills, and more than a little sleepy. Even Eddie, who kept up a stream of commentary during Lord of the Rings, eager to discuss his favorite bits of Middle Earth lore with you, is tuckered out.

Shenanigans play out on the television screen. You let out a huge yawn. 

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulder, hand digging into the meat of your bicep, pulling you closer to him. “This okay?” he murmurs.

You nod clumsily and start fidgeting, your hands twisting in your lap. 

Eddie says your name softly. You hum in acknowledgement. 

“I really like you. And I think you like me.” He cocks his head to the side. “Is that right?”

Your heart throbs.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Can I kiss you then, sweetheart?”

You nod; Eddie leans in slowly, then presses his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back again. It’s quick, chaste and sweet, and not nearly enough. Your hands find his face, palms landing on both his cheeks so you can bring his mouth back to yours.

He’s happy to oblige. 

Eddie sighs, tongue dipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. One hand cups the back of your head, keeping you right where he wants you. The other snakes around your thigh, and he uses the leverage to abruptly pull you up and over his lap. A small “Oh!” of surprise escapes you at the jolt, but Eddie wastes no time in securing his mouth to yours again.

His kisses are wet, heady, and grow increasingly frantic as the two of you clutch at each other. Your hands weave into his hair — a longtime fantasy of yours come true at last — and he lets out a soft moan when your fingers tug gently at the tangled tresses. 

Your skin feels tingly, sensitive, alight at every little touch he gives you. Your head is full of nothing but Eddie, the way he looks and feels and smells, and the way he makes you feel, like a shaken-up pop bottle, full of pink fizz and ready to burst.

Eddie suddenly laughs against your lips, smiling into another kiss.

You pull back hastily, self-consciously. But he looks jubilant, cheeks dimpled in joy, chocolate eyes crinkled at the outer corners.

“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “it’s just — I couldn’t tell — I wasn’t really sure where your head was at.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “You kept gettin’ quiet on me all of a sudden.”

You let your head fall forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and let out a tiny groan. “I know. I’m sorry, it wasn’t you.”

You lift your head back up and face him. “I’m not usually very good at this stuff,” you admit. “Connecting with people. It’s harder, when you’re introverted…and have different interests. But you were so easy to talk to when we met! And I was so excited to make a new friend, but I…,” you trail off.

“But you what?” he prompts.

“The more I looked at you the cuter I thought you were.” The words come out in a rush. “When I realized what was happening I got nervous.”

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Oh, something’s happening?” 

You swat at him playfully.

“I’m kidding!” He rubs your shoulders soothingly. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me. I’m just some guy, y’know?”

“You, Eddie Munson, are certainly not just some guy.”

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me blush.”

The movie has long since ended, and a peaceful darkness settles over the trailer. The only sound is the chirp of the summer crickets outside and quiet breathing.

Eddie’s fully sprawled out over the couch with you nestled in his arms. It took some coaxing, but eventually he convinced you to lay on top of him, your warm weight better than any blanket, the sweet fragrance of your perfume soothing his senses. Your face is half-hidden in the crook of his neck, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a confession to make,” he says sleepily.

“Ooh. It better be something juicy.”

“It is. Excellent gossip. You can tell all your friends, I won’t even be mad.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I scoped you out at the library,” he admits. “I came in that day specifically to talk to you. Y’know, turn on that Munson charm, and sweep you off your feet, and all that.”

“Really?” You blink, trying to jog your memory. “I don’t remember ever seeing you before that.” You think of his tousled hair and clunky jewelry. “And you’re pretty memorable.”

“Well, there’s a slight chance that I, um, ducked, and hid behind a shelf when you got close. It was the Saturday right before we met, after you did your reading.”

That recalls something for you. “Wait, wait, maybe I do remember…” It’s hazy. Pale face, brown hair? You can’t quite place this person as Eddie, but it must have been him. “I think I did see you creeping around.”

“What can I say? Your story telling enthralled me.” 

It’s the truth. He’d been browsing for a Clive Barker book when he caught sight of you in the children’s area. You read We’re Going on a Bear Hunt with an enthusiasm usually reserved for trained Shakespearean actors, and it left him undeniably impressed. 

You cuddle closer to him, burying your face in his chest. “I’m glad you decided to nut up and talked to me.”

He smiles against your hair. “Me too.”

Early the next morning, in the hazy gray-blue dawn, the front door opens quietly — cautiously even. Wayne’s not sure what he’ll be walking into. All he knows is that his nephew really likes this girl, and that for Eddie’s sake he hopes that his date went well. He’s not sure how much more disappointment the boy can take. He wants to see him happy.

So he’s pleasantly surprised to see you and Eddie piled up on the couch like two puppies, fast asleep and — thank Christ — fully-clothed. Eddie’s arm is slung over you protectively, his soft snores just barely audible. 

Good for him.

And if they wanna sleep in the living room, that’s fine. 

Wayne’s gonna take the bed.

thank you for reading!! <3 Read Ch. 4 -> Here! taglist: @eddiesgirlforever, @eds6ngel, @sheisahauntedhouse, @lokis-tardis-companion19, @teary-eyed-egg, @whenshelanded, @nanaminswhore, @witchwolflea

[katyawriteswhump]

Pin-up boy (steddie microfic)

For @steddiemicrofic March prompt, ‘pin.’ Thank you <3

WC: 388. Rating: T. CW: None. Tags: Steve and Eddie return to High School (because I say so!) post S4 healing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers.

…

In the library, Eddie found Steve slumped at a table, face pillowed in his arms. Robin sat beside Steve, rubbing his back.

“He okay?” asked Eddie.

“Bad headache,” mumbled Steve. “M’not deaf, Munson. Yet.”

“Came on sudden.” Robin’s obvious worry mirrored Eddie’s. They’d persuaded Steve to re-take senior year, and these ‘study meets’ rocked Eddie’s days. Though Robin tried, no ‘studying’ happened; they’d be idiots till the librarian booted them. It was really an excuse to check each other was okay, post-Upside Down everything. Plus, Eddie dug hanging with Robin… Aaaand with his secret crush.

“Got your meds?” asked Eddie.

“In my locker.” Steve threw his keys at Eddie.

“You trust me with your car-key too?”

“Like you need those to boost my wheels.” Steve blinked blearily. “The pink pills, ’kay?”

Steve’s locker contained a ton of meds. Some—for PTSD, anxiety—Eddie took also. The ‘pink pills,’ however, were hardcore painkillers that Eddie had been able to ditch. He’d snatched them up, when a grainy pic—pinned discreetly at the back—caught his eye.

IT’S ME! Ax-wielding at a Corroded Coffin gig. 

The love-hearts pencilled in the margins set Eddie’s world on fire.

…

When Eddie returned, Steve wouldn’t raise his burning face. He couldn’t handle Eddie knowing, even after the painkillers kicked in. The old Steve Harrington would’ve powered through, but… Ouch! Not today.

Eddie cornered him near the lockers. Steve glared.

“Feeling better?” asked Eddie.

Steve shrugged.

Eddie slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Wanna show you something.”

Steve tensed, nearly bolted, but… Christ, it was better said: “Yeeeah, my locker. I got all brain-foggy and forgot that pic was there. It’s a dumb joke—”

“Sure hope it’s not.” Eddie flung his locker open. A shirtless picture of Steve by the pool was pinned, very visibly, to the door. My Little Pony stickers formed a love-heart around it.

“For once, skulls and crossbones didn’t nail it,” said Eddie. “I owe Lady Applejack a billion dollars for those babies.”

“Is this some twisted joke?”

“My Little Ponies aside, I’m deadly serious, Stevie.”

Steve fixated on Eddie’s gorgeous eyes. Jesus, this was real! The guy who’d shared his healing, who got who he was now, felt the same.

“Screw it, me too.” They couldn’t be alone quick enough. Steve let Eddie pin him to the wall, and they made out forever.

...

All my Steddie fic can also be found here on AO3 :)

[thornsnvultures]

anywhere || eddie munson x plus size!reader

cw: angst, talking about drug usage, eddie's in the hospital post-vecna, your mom kinda fuckin sucks, best friend!eddie who likes you more than you realize

a/n: that one line in the muppet babies theme song fucks me up every time. literally every time I hear it I tear up. so thanks for that jim henson.

-----

"When your world looks kinda weird and you wish you weren't there," Eddie's terrible Kermit impression makes you laugh so hard you almost spill the bowl of cereal you're pouring. You hit him back with your equally terrible baby Miss Piggy voice.

"Just close your eyes and make believe that you could be anywhere!"

Eddie snorts at the way your voice cracks trying to hit notes your voice was not made to hit.

"Shut up, that was flawless and you know it," you hand Eddie his bowl with a grin and plop down on the couch next to him. Were you watching cartoons made for children? Yes, but who didn't love Kermit the Frog and his adorable little muppet friends?

You missed this, being here with Eddie. A lot had changed since you started going to college last year while Eddie stayed behind to be a senior for a third time, but not this. Your friendship never changed. It was something you treasured coming home to, when you could. School was starting to pile up and these visits were becoming few and far between, but Eddie would always be your Eddie. You were sure of it.

"So you're leading up Hellfire now, huh?," you asked Eddie as you finished your cereal. He took your bowl and put it on the coffee table with his, not meeting your eyes. Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. The two of you didn't talk about it much, him still being in school. Like you didn't want to break the spell that everything was normal. The two of you hanging out like normal, like you did since you were kids. It was comfortable, you didn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah the, uh...yeah. It's up to me now I guess. The guys know they can't compete with my campaigns."

He's smiling, all cocky because it's true, they're always amazing. But his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Weren't your just saying nothing had changed? Maybe you a lot had changed and you just weren't paying attention.

"I miss adventuring with you," you sigh, snuggling into Eddie's side until he puts his arm over your shoulder. "And the guys."

"Yeah, they miss you too," Eddie's voice sounds strained. You try to move thinking you're laying on him in a weird way, but he just pulls you closer, tighter.

You spend the rest of the morning watching cartoons. Eventually you forget the weird tension, putting it aside to enjoy your day with your best friend before you have to leave again.

-----

It's a year before you see Eddie again.

School was tough, taking up so much of your free time you barely saw anyone besides the librarian and the two people you shared a dorm room with. You had tried to join a DnD club at school but your schedule didn't line up well with the rest of the group. And it wasn't the same. You missed Eddie's energy, his frantic dramatics. The guys were cool but sticklers for rules and, to put it nicely, boring.

You couldn't take being away from home any longer, you missed your friend.

So when your mom called one Friday afternoon and told you, in her own bizarre and nonchalant way, that Eddie had been in some trouble recently and, "I'm sure you saw the news about the earthquakes," you came straight home.

"You know, I always thought he was a nice boy. Did you know he was selling... grass," your mom whispered the last word like police officers would be knocking down her door if she spoke too loud.

"I didn't." You did. You also partook, but your mother didn't need to know that.

"Anyway, everyone got all upset when that little cheerleader died, but when they found him, like that, I guess they thought he was a victim too. Can't maul yourself like that, that's for sure."

"Oh my god, mom," you stand up, your chair harshly scraping against the linoleum. You can't sit here and listen to this any more.

"Where are you going? I have a pie in the oven."

Your mom follows you to the door, huffing like you're the one being ridiculous. She never liked Eddie much but the ease with which she talks about your childhood best friend being... mauled...

"I'll be back later."

You don't wait for her to respond, slamming the door as you go. You hop in the hand-me-down car your dad gave you before you left for school, peeling down the drive and heading straight for the hospital like you should've done when you got back. Tears cloud the edges of your vision until they spill over, you don't bother wiping them away.

-----

"Hey, you're Eddie's girl."

"Excuse me?"

A short, curly haired boy in a baseball cap appears next to you when you ask the receptionist where Eddie's room is located.

"It's okay, Brenda. She's with me." You snort out a laugh when the boy tips his hat to the woman behind the desk. Her smile and the wave of her hand tells you she is in fact used to this.

"I'm Dustin," the kid explains as you follow him through the maze of hallways and elevators. "Eddie's told me a lot about you. Recognized you from the picture he thinks I don't know about in his glove box. Not my fault he just shoves stuff in there. If he didn't want everything to spill out he should organize. Not that I'm great at organizing either-"

"I'm sorry," you stop Dustin's rambling, your head spinning from all that information, narrowing in on the one that stuck. "He keeps my picture in his van?"

"Yeah a few in his room too. He's just down here. You just missed the guys, Jeff had to go to work and he was their ride so they left. Wayne will be in later. He usually stops by after work."

Dustin kept talking and you tried to keep up but the closer you got to Eddie's room the more your ears rang and your chest felt tight. You knew it was bad, he'd been in for a few days and was still heavily sedated after a number of surgeries. Wayne told you the day before you came back on the phone that he might not be awake when you got here. The old man might've been trying to spare you the trip, but you were coming to see him no matter what. You should've come back a long time ago.

Standing outside his room now, the year you were away felt like an eternity now. How had your Eddie changed? Was he your Eddie anymore? Was he ever yours?

"Hey, you comin' in? He's still sleeping."

Steeling yourself with one deep breath, you enter Eddie's room. With one look at Eddie and you're asking Dustin for a minute alone, pulling up a chair by his side.

"Sorry I'm late, Eddie. Traffic coming out of the city is crazy." You laugh at your stupid joke because you'll cry if you do anything else. You don't think about the air tube in his nose or the beeping heart monitor, the bandages on his arms or how hollow, how fragile he looks.

"My mom said you've been selling 'grass'," you chuckle as you twist one of his curls around your finger. "Should I tell her how many times I snuck out to smoke with you? She's already mad at me for taking time off from school to be here."

Eddie lays there as you talk, sleeping softly as you compliment the cards and flowers on the window sill. You tell him how the past two semesters of school have been, how miserable you've been without him, how guilty you've felt for "missing" his calls, not reading his letters because you've been too exhausted to do anything that wasn't surviving and work.

You're holding his weirdly ring-less fingers, contemplating leaving instead of holding out hope that he'll wake up while you're here, when you hear a familiar theme song on the television.

"When your world looks kind of weird,"

Your gaze falls from the TV to your friend in his hospital bed.

"And you wish you weren't there,"

Your eyes close wishing you were back in Eddie's house, stoned out of your mind doing muppet impressions.

A tear falls down your cheek as you close your eyes and sing along with Miss Piggy, not caring how ridiculous you sound.

"Just close your eyes and make believe and you can be anywhere."

You choke on a sob, suddenly angry at this stupid kids show for making you lose it when you were holding yourself together so well.

"Still sounds awful."

You open your eyes, wiping your tears away with your hand not in Eddie's at the groggy sound of his voice. He's holding the other one tight, almost too tight, like you'll run if he lets go.

"That was a perfect impression," the words stutter on a heaving breath but you're smiling through it.

"I'm on so many drugs."

"I'll go get the nurse," you laugh, trying to pull yourself together.

"No," Eddie just barely tugs on your hand, not yet strong enough to pull you close. "Don't leave."

"I'm not, I won't. I'm here, Eddie. I'm sorry."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut, too tired yet for a full conversation, but he won't let your hand go. You find the call button next to the bed to call the nurse and wait.

"I'm not going anywhere."

---

--

-

🖤

[powderblueblood]

everything looks better on me (especially you)

eddie's missing something and lacy gets a new accessory. (825) cw: fluff the house down, thank GOD these two get to be CUTE for once in their stinking lives. happy valentines day palentines part of the hellfire & ice universe

that looks familiar.

the note bounces over your shoulder, landing in a crumpled little ball for you to unravel on your desk. first period. monday. history with kaminsky, enforcing tyrannical rule by reading about the ottoman empire at an excruciating pace. the morning is passing at it's usual torturous tick, only helped by the warm reassurance of eddie, sat in place behind you.

you make sure to shake your stupid hair all over his desk as you pass back your reply.

oh, this old thing? you like it?

eddie holds his breath as he watches you slide the slip of paper by your ear for him to snatch, fixated on the flow of your neck to your shoulder. said flow, which he so frequently admires, is now obscured. a wrap of fabric around your neck that he knows well. real well. super well. part of the uniform well.

you'd thought it'd be a cute look--a coquettish little necktie element to set off your otherwise rote skirt-and-satin blouse set. a nod to sexy librarians, contrarians, know-it-alls with edge-- oh, okay, fine. who are you fucking kidding. you wore it around your neck because you knew it'd make eddie's dick twitch from a thousand yard reach.

you knew it'd make him go all doe eyed and grin stupid and maybe even make him do that thing where he hides behind his hair. you love that. it makes your heart flip like a speed freak olympian. makes you want to shove him to the ground and make out with him until he suffocates.

you knew it'd be a statement, too. i'm intentional about every single thing i've ever put on my body. i want you. i want this.

you reach up and wind the end of eddie's bandana around your little finger.

you think you hear his breath hitch. (you totally do.)

you look really pretty.

eddie catches you off guard, y'know. with his earnestness. with how hard he means things.

really pretty.

he'd left his bandana on your bedroom floor the night he stole away out your window. remember? "i'm coming back for you, lacy doevski?" all that? well, you'd found it after getting third-degree cross examined by your father and lay awake with it held close to your face. it'd gotten caught on a pin or something and tore, so you darned it back together with your limited sewing skills. you didn't want to give it back right away--it's such a part of the eddie munson ensemble that it made you feel like you had a real piece of him with you, 'til you could see him again. which was only 48 goddamned hours, but let's slice off a little slack here.

and so came this morning. and you wound it under your collar, tying a windsor knot.

you feel him lean in a little closer to tuck the note next to your shoulder.

really REALLY PRETTY.

pretty enough to meet me in the bathroom? you write, tossing it back to him with a stretch. you don't wait for an answer as the bell trills.

moments later, eddie has you pinned against the wall of that bombed out boy's bathroom (say thank you lack of school funding!), pressing his lush, pink lips to the line of your jaw.

he makes your whole body feel as tingly as tv static.

eddie's forehead finds yours and you don't have anything in you but to sigh and smile, just a breath away from his mouth.

"hello," you say, watching the sparkle in his dark eyes.

"hi," eddie mumbles, grinning away. he brushes a knuckle down the side of your face. "pretty. pretty. you're so pretty, lace."

god, even the way he says it knocks you clean out. pritty. like there's some tennessee twang still left in the highest reaches of his voice.

your lashes flutter. you're lightheaded and girlish and you can't for the life of you stop smiling.

eddie's smile breaks into a little laugh, breath brushing against your nose.

"what's so funny?"

"you like something i wear," he croons, fingers brushing the knot of the bandana, settled beneath your collarbone. "you like me."

"so what if i do?"

"you like me. i melted you."

"i wouldn't call this melting," you chuckle softly, but your eyelids drop and chin tilts back as eddie brings his mouth to your neck. "this is defrosting at best."

"you tryin' to say you want it... wetter?"

"shut up, eddie."

"i could get you so soaked with this wit alone..."

a delicate snort. "ladies and gentlemen, the friars club presents..."

"mm, you lost me."

"i'll tell ya later."

his hands travel all over your body, groping you with a sweetness driven by desire. eddie is all want when it comes to you; wants to touch you, talk to you, listen to you, lay with you. bug the shit out of you.

and you want him too, is the thing. it's reciprocal. you're wearing it right around your neck.

you could both die happy before fourth period.

[eiightysixbaby]

UR LITERALLY SO GORGEOUS BBY GIRL!! I have glasses too and it makes me happy seeing other cuties with glasses!

Makes me wonder how Eddie or Steve would react to reader who shows them her glasses for the first time. Eddie gives me vibes that he would refer to reader as a sexy librarian and likes to see the reader on her knees sucking him off, glasses hung low on her nose and eyes looking up at him brimmed with tears. He would cum instantly. Steve gives me nerdy role player. He will put a letterman jacket on for the jock role and try to fluster the “innocent nerd” during tutoring. Hiking up her skirt and fucking her making her read from her textbook, stopping his thrusting every time she stops reading out loud 🥵

okay first of all thank you SO much 😭 glasses gang for the win 🤓

second of all - oh my GOD everything about this has me sweating. the sexy librarian bit for Eddie is so accurate - something about your glasses just gets him going and he loves watching you peer up at him through them when you’re sucking his cock. he’ll role play the librarian thing so hard, making you keep as quiet as possible while he fucks you as if you’re actually sneaking around in a library. he’s whispering in your ear like “yeah? dirty girl likes taking my cock when we could get caught? so naughty of you, baby.” and just anytime you have your glasses on around eddie he’s calling you his sexy thing, he just adores them. also, I feel like we can’t make eddie too serious - there’d absolutely be one time where he jokingly hits you with a “hey what’s up four-eyes,” and you want to be mad but you can’t even keep yourself from laughing.

steve would go crazy for the jock/nerd role play, oh my god. it’s basic, but the glasses just spur him on to have you play the nerd. he has you in a plaid pleated skirt and a sweater vest, cute little frilly socks on your feet looking oh so innocent. he has the flashcards you made for school, quizzing you on them as he teases you with his fingers, spanking you if you get an answer wrong. you’re barely able to form sentences you want him so bad, and it only gets worse when he flips you over and starts fucking you from behind. he’d love listening to you try to read your book for him and just stuttering and stumbling over your words - moans of his name slipping out because you can’t even focus on anything but him.

so yeah, uh, glasses. glasses are good. 🫡🤭

[crazycookiecrumbles]

Idiots, Total Idiots

Masterlist

A/N: VERY MINOR S4 STRANGER THINGS SPOILERS BARELY SPOILERS THO

✨✨Reblog/ comments PLEASE i love feedback ✨✨

Pairings/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader; Dustin Henderson; Mentions: Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Billy

Warnings: swearing, smartassery

Summary: Dustin is so exhausted by this dancing around each other you and Steve are doing, yet again, during another pressing mystery of Hawkins.

Dustin stared at Steve without blinking for far too long. It was unsettling, and Steve was fighting the urge to turn and smack Dustin in the face. Groaning, Steve finally put down his comb and glared at Dustin, “What, asshat!?”

“Okay. First of all, so rude and uncalled for,” Dustin said as he stared at Steve. “Secondly, you’ve been fixing your hair for the last ten minutes. For a library. Who the fuck fixes their hair for a library?”

Steve rolled his eyes as he put his comb away, “You said we needed information — “

“I mean, really, you’re going back to Douchelord Steve. That’s so Season 1 of you.”

“Season 1? Really? Of what?”

“Of your coming of age story, duh.”

“I was already of age — “

“Whatever,” Dustin shouted over him. “What are you doing? No one’s in the library except for that bitter old librarian who I think is upcharging my fees and —“ he paused as his eyes lit up in realization. He smiled, eyes half-lidded now as he stared at Steve with his big, cheesy grin. “Y/N’s new job is here.”

“No, it isn’t,” Steve scoffed, but Dustin saw through his lies. “How did you know?”

“I saw her after her guitar lesson with Eddie before Hellfire Club,” Dustin shrugged easily. “Still makes really good cookies, by the way. I mean, is she traumatized from the mall? Probably, but, like, who isn’t? Still, can’t believe you blew it like that.”

“I didn’t blow it! You can’t blow it if it never started.”

“Right and it never started because you wanted to practice dating and get out there in the world before settling down with Y/N. Like she’d even want to settle down with you, which is bold, by the way. I mean, maybe before, but now? Definitely not.”

Steve groaned, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to help him keep from strangling Dustin, “What, she too busy with Eddie Munson?” He asked, venom dripping when he said his name.

“Oh, my god, you’re so sad,” Dustin laughed in his face. “Dude. Get over yourself.”

“I’m totally over everything!”

“It’s guitar lessons you fucking freak, not sex lessons!”

“Ew, Dustin. Don’t talk about her like that — “

“She was my god damn babysitter, I get more leeway here!” Dustin scoffed and threw his hands up in the air. “Look, man. They’re just friends — “

“Why does she even need guitar lessons? Like, for what, you know —“

“Believe it or not, hobbies exist, you hair-obsessed freak,” Dustin replied. “Dude, they’re just friends —“

“You know who else she was just friends with? Billy.”

“Here we go fucking go,” Dustin leaned back in his seat while Steve bolted up and now had hands out in front of him as he spoke animatedly about your past.

“She and Billy were just friends! Billy! You know, the guy that tried to kick my ass?”

“He did kick your ass,” Dustin mumbled.

“No! I had him on the ropes, everyone knows it,” Steve replied. “But, right, yeah, her and Billy are totally just friends.”

Dustin took off his hat, looked up, begged Thor to give him strength, then scratched his head before putting his hat back on. He turned to Steve and grabbed his shoulders, “Dipshit, she tutored Billy, and that didn’t even last long. She tutored him a few times because his dad was threatening to beat his ass over his grades, and that was that. She didn’t even like him that way. And, I don’t know if you remember, but Billy kind of, oh, I don’t know, kidnapped her with the intent of feeding her to the Mind Flayer.”

“Okay—“

“And immediately she was all, ‘is Steve okay?’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, “Because she knew Billy hated you and she was worried about you, as told to me by Will, who also thinks you two are stupid for each other.”

“Can it, Henderson —“

“So, really, you two idiots have just been dancing around each other the entire time and wasting everybody’s breath because we keep saying you two should be together and you’re being stupid and she’s being stupid and you’re both stupid!”

“Eloquent. Are you done?”

Dustin thought for a moment before nodding, “Yes, I am. You talk to your not-girlfriend, and I’ll look for clues. I thought Nancy and Robin were doing this. Why are we—“ he stared at Steve who cleared his throat and looked down. “You are the biggest waste of resources, Harrington.”

“What!”

“We could be doing other things — “

“Oh, whatever,” Steve got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Dustin followed behind him, muttering that he was wasting precious, valuable time and energy over nothing because he wasn’t going to have the balls to talk to you, anyway.

Steve looked for you, of course, instead of asking anyone who worked there where they could find you. After wandering around, wasting time, avoiding Nancy and Robin and hiding from Dustin’s prying eyes, he finally found you. You were in the fiction section organizing Stephen King books and humming to yourself. Steve slowly made his way towards you, standing behind you and staring down, watching as you picked up the books from the floor, reorganized them quickly, and stood back up to place them on the shelf as they should be.

Turning around, you saw Steve staring at you and jumped. You started to shriek, which scared the life out of Steve who quickly looked around as he covered your mouth and pressed you against the bookshelf.

“Jesus, Y/N!” Steve whispered loudly. “You’re going to get us in trouble here. People are going to think I’m some sort of weird pervert.”

You lowered his hand and clutched your chest, “Aren’t you? Jeez, Steve, you gave me heart attack.”

“Sorry about that —“

“What are you doing here?” You asked, as you came down from your fright and looked around to see if anyone else had followed your cries to the aisle you were in. “Shouldn’t you be at work or on another date?”

He grinned, “You follow my dates, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, “As if, Harrington. You know people talk when you’re the slut of the town. Anyway, what do you want?”

Ouch. Slut of the town? Was that how lowly you thought of Steve? Okay. So it may have been the truth at the moment, but still! He didn’t sleep with everyone, he just went on a bunch of dates…and stuff.

Steve floundered for a moment. He could hit on you right now, ask you out on a date, leave you alone after that, but that would defeat the true purpose of being there. 

Steve didn’t come to the library because he thought you could help them do research — even if it was true and that you were smart and capable of doing so, but, no. Steve didn’t want that from you. The truth was, Steve was worried. The second something fishy started happening around Hawkins for the millionth time, his first thought was you. Last time something happened, you two were separated the entire time. You had been kidnapped by Billy of all disgusting people — okay, he was possessed, but it still counts — and he wasn’t there for you. Steve wasn’t there to be your knight in shining armor, the kids were. Steve wasn’t there to keep you safe from harm. Steve wasn’t there to kick Billy’s ass for you. Steve was hopelessly and utterly helpless to keep you safe. 

He couldn’t repeat that.

“It’s happening again,” Steve said quietly, head tilted down as he spoke to you. He found it hard to hold eye contact with you, because if he did, he was just going to blurt out his feelings for you. Instead, he kept his eyes on the choker you were wearing so he could keep his focus. “There was —“

“The high schooler, yeah, I heard, “You nodded once. “I thought —“

Steve shook his head, “It’s weird again, Y/N. And I just want to make sure you —“

“I don’t want to be involved, Steve. First couple of times, whatever. But after last —“

“I know,” Steve nodded quickly and grabbed your hands, holding them up and giving them a squeeze. “Trust me, I know. You deserve to be totally normal in your totally normal and not-at-all-boring job — “

“Wow — “

“ — but I would feel so much better if you were with us. I know you don’t want to be in this, but I’d feel so much better if I could keep an eye on you, rather than worry about something happening to you and I’m not there to keep you safe. Just….just let me try to keep you safe, Y/N.”

Your cheeks were burning. Steve Harrington, Grade A idiot with a heart growing to be one of gold, coming over to your place of work and saying how he wanted to keep you safe during all of this. It was sweet. It made you wonder where this was coming from. Was it from your new friendship with Steve that started when he got sucked into the drama with Dustin’s friends a little while back, or was it from the other place of shared, lingering glances, touches, and running to each other the second you saw one another during these life-changing events?”

“Steve —“

Dustin, of course, with his impeccable timing, showed up right beside the two of you. “Are you two going to kiss and get it over with so we can get the fuck out of here?”

Narrowing your eyes, you cast one look at Dustin. His own eyes widened as he quietly nodded to himself, turned, and walked out of the aisle to give you two some privacy.

Steve stared in awe, “You have to teach me that.”

“Sorry, it’s a gift,” you chuckled softly and looked up at Steve. “I’m not gonna lie, Steve. I’m really scared this time around. Things just keep getting worse.”

Steve nodded, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, “I know, but we’ll be together, we’ll keep an eye on each other. Okay?”

Nodding slowly, you finally agreed to go with him. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Great — “

“So you want to kiss me, Harrington?”

Now was Steve’s turn to be flushed. He chuckled nervously, hand coming up to run through his hair as he looked down at you and bit his bottom lip.

Before he could speak, you did, “Is it going to be that same kiss you’ve given all your latest conquests, Sluttington?”

Steve shook his head as he stared at you and saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes, “When I kiss you, Y/N, it’ll be unlike any kiss you’ve ever had.”

“I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. It’s not concerning at all,” Steve said as he leaned in close, lips ghosting over yours, “It’ll be mind-blowing.” He stood up tall again, took your hand, and started leading you down the aisle, “Now, come on. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

[nervousgardenerkid]

yello could u do an eddie munson x reader where the reader struggles w selective mutism (becoming mute/being unable to speak in some situations usually because of bad anxiety, or at least in my own experience) and usually communicates through little notes but feels real bad bc they don’t want eddie to be disappointed and he comforts them and says it’s ok bc he loves them anyway

pls i’m having big sad rn and i think that would be so adorable, also considering that selective mutism and stuff like that is v rarely seen in media/fanfics lol, it would be a big win for us

ty <333

a/n: i hope i got to this in time anon! i'm sorry you're feeling sad rn :( i tried to do my best with it cause personally i have no idea what it's like but as someone with anxiety i understand a bit! I hope you like it :D credit to the gif owner!

Notes to you

Blue skies in, grey clouds out. Blue skies in, grey clouds out. You thought to yourself. You weren't sure what was in the air today but school seemed so much more packed when it came to basketball games. Maybe school spirit was more alive in the students thus causing them to be louder and more obnoxious than usual. Or maybe the universe decided to give you the middle finger and held a pep rally. Either way, you weren't the biggest fan of it.

Your hands start to grab at the straps of your backpack and you try not to cry when the kid next to you gets pushed into you. You just want to go home, you don't even want to spend the rest of the day in school. Your eyes frantically search the flooded hall looking for a familiar face, but so far no luck. I could leave now you think to yourself. Home isn't that far from school and I'll be okay if I miss a day of school. You turn around and try and make your way toward the school exit when finally, you see him.

Relief washes over your body and you push your way through the crowd and grab onto his jacket as soon as he's within arms reach. Eddie quickly turns you thinking you were a bully but smiles when he sees it's you.

“Hey, there sweetheart, where are you off to?”

You open your mouth trying to get the words out but you're stuck. Your brain goes blank and you struggle to think of the words you want to say. You look around the halls trying to find something to focus on but everything is too bright and too loud. Eddie notices the panicked look in your eyes and turns Dustin around to reach into his backpack.

“Hey! You can't just go digging in there-”

“Can it Henderson.”

“Yes sir.”

Eddie pulls out his notebook and rips off a page before stuffing the notebook back in and searching for a pen.

“Man, I had a whole system in there.”

“I'll let you sit on my throne for ten seconds if you stop talking.”

“Done.”

Eddie let out a small “ah ha!” when he found a pen. He holds onto your hand tightly and starts to lead you out of the school screaming for students to get out of his way. Once you're out of the school you take a deep breath, it doesn't help as much as you would've liked it to but it's better than being surrounded by warms of people. Before you know it, Eddie has you standing in front of his van the paper on the hood of his car, and he places the pen in your hand.

“What's going on in your pretty little head?” he asks you softly.

You take a deep breath feeling the pen in your hand as you try and call down. Your hand is shaky as you write.

I hate basketball games.

He let out a hum. “Me too, way too many people. Do you want to go to the library? It's nice and quiet in there.”

It's locked. Even the librarian has more school spirit than me.

Eddie chuckles and leans against the van smiling at you.

You can go back in, I was just going to walk home.

“Pft. Walk home, yeah right. No way I'm letting you walk home in this horrible heat.”

You glance at him and smile.

You didn't have to let Dustin sit on your throne for me.

Eddie shrugs his shoulders. “It's not a problem. Plus, I kinda ruined his whole backpack system or whatever he has going on in there.”

Ruined. Dustin's bag was ruined because of you. The whole system he made up is ruined all because Eddie had to scramble to get a piece of paper for you. Your breathing began to pick up again and you closed your eyes trying to take deep breaths. Eddie stands straight again stands nearby.

“What do you need sweetheart? How can I help you?”

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you can't get them out no matter how hard you're trying to.

“Hey, hey listen to me,” he says softly. “One tap for yes.” He taps on his van once. “Two taps for no. Sound good to you?”

You click the pen twice instead of tapping on the car. Eddie nods his head saying he can work with that.

“Can I touch you? Is that okay?”

Click.

He wraps his arms around you.

“You want me to hold you tighter?”

Click.

His arms squeeze you tight enough for you to start grounding yourself. You take a deep breath catching the scent of Eddie's cologne. Your hand wrapped around the back of his shirt feeling the material beneath your fingertips. The cotton was soft, yet worn out. You could tell it was one of his favorites. You started to calm down when you heard his sweet voice reassuring you that everything is okay and that you're gonna be okay.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper to him.

He pulls away from you and wipes away at the stray tear that fell down your face.

“For what?”

You shake your head. What were you sorry for? You didn't do anything bad, Eddie was just trying to be a good boyfriend and help.

“I don't know.”

tears are streaming down your face and Eddie pulls you in for another hug. His hand is gently scratching at your scalp and he's swaying you both back and forth while gently rushing you.

“You didn't do anything wrong. I promise you didn't, okay?”

You nod your head choosing to believe him as you take a shaky breath. You know better than to ask this, but sometimes the reassurance helps more than you think it would.

You gently pull away from him and turn your body back toward the van. You grab the piece of paper, fold it in half, then click the pen getting ready to write your question out.

You still love me?

Eddie grabs the pen from your hand, he clicks it a few times pretending to think of his answer. He messily writes down his answer and slides the note back to you hiding his smile behind his hair.

Always. :)

[bmodiwrites]

I got a request for single dad!steve & I'm so here for it! I think this little ficlet is going to be the first part in a little series. I have so many ideas, so let me know what you think!

It’s a rare Thursday off that changes Eddie’s life forever.

He’s sitting on his favorite bench in the park when a high pitched yell catches his attention. Looking up from the drawing he’s been zoned into for the past hour, Eddie glances left and then right over his shoulder to see a small girl trying not to cry on the ground.

As a children’s librarian, Eddie is more than familiar with the little lip wobble that’s happening and the usual tears that follow. If he were back at work, his arsenal of book references and character impressions would be the perfect fix. Out in the wild, Eddie isn’t as well equipped.

It doesn’t take a genius to comfort a hurt person, however.

Setting aside his pencil and sketch book, Eddie gets up from the bench and walks quietly over to the little girl. He’s impressed she’s not screaming with agony – the scrape on her knee is worse than most and more than worth a wail or two. Instead of questioning this little girl’s integrity as he approaches, Eddie slowly kneels down in front of her.

“Everything okay over here? I was halfway through my drawing of a goblin when I thought I heard one squealing in the grass.”

It only takes a second of sniffing for the girl to look up at him with a wet attempt at a smile. “I’m not a goblin. I’m a girl. A human girl.” Said girl tries to sound defiant and strong, despite the tears still welling up in her eyes. She’s so close to forgetting her pain, it’s almost comical.

“Are you sure? Some of the goblins I’ve seen sort of look like little girls. They even have pigtails like you,” Eddie says, pointing at the two long braids thrown over either shoulder. The pink helmet she’s wearing does nothing to hide them.  

Just like that, the little girl’s mind is no longer on the injury to her knee – instead, her ire is pointed right at Eddie and his theory on goblins. It’s both sharp and adorable. Especially when the little girl says “I’m absolutely positive. My name is Judy and I’m a human girl, not a goblin.”

This time, Eddie can’t help himself, a chuckle is let loose.

“Okay, okay. You’re a human girl. I just needed to make sure. Goblins are very tricky and I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” Eddie pauses for a second to watch Judy’s eyes grow as interest in his words settle in. It’s still astounding to see wonder light up a person’s world.

Instead of lingering on that thought, Eddie puts a hand between them, intent on introducing himself the proper way now that her goblin status is ironed out. “It’s very nice to meet you, Judy. I’m Eddie.”

Judy doesn’t hesitate to slip her little hand into Eddie’s. Her grip is firm and so is the look she gives him as they shake hands. “There’s a man at the library that’s named Eddie. My daddy talks about him all the time.”

For a second, Eddie is stumped by the girl’s ability to be so candid and loose with her words. He always forgets that children have no filter; it’s both gloriously refreshing and shocking as all hell. Once he’s past the initial rock of his world, Eddie tries to push past his befuddlement. “Huh, it’s kind of a small world. I’m the children’s librarian at the library in town.”

Judy’s adorable hazel eyes lit up as Eddie spoke, realization colors her expression. “That’s why you look so familiar! You’re Mr. Munson, who does all the voices when you read.” She crosses her arms then, trying to look petulant. “No wonder you thought I was a goblin!”

After that, it’s easy to check over Judy’s wounds while they talk about the book he’s going to be reading at story time this week. She’s a fast learner that immediately catches onto the runaround that Eddie is trying to subtly give her. By the third attempt at asking him for the book’s title, Judy gives up with a loud sigh. “You grownups and your secrets. Don’t tell me, then!”

Eddie believes he might cave into the cutest little pout he’s ever seen, but his willpower comes back just in time. “You’ll have to come to story time to find out. The surprise is half the fun.”

Before Judy can agree with him, another loud voice registers in Eddie’s ears. This time, it’s very deep and masculine, more than likely belonging to the dad that Judy’s been mumbling about. He’s proven right a second later when she pipes up “I’m over here, daddy!”

Eddie is not prepared at all for the sight of Judy’s dad running towards them. Everything from the moment Eddie heard Judy’s voice to the familiarity of talking to her makes sense now – Judy’s father is the man Eddie’s been checking out behind the counter for months. The strong thighs and wide shoulders are strong players in Eddie’s fantasies. To be perfectly honest, it’s all a bit too much.

He’s thinking about how small the world really is when that deep voice cuts in –

“Judy, oh my god – I thought you got lost on the path again. What happened to you? Are you okay?”

It’s almost like Eddie isn’t standing right there with a couple of his lunch napkins pressed to Judy’s leg. Even Judy seems to think so.

“Daddy, I’m fine. Eddie is taking care of me. He’s the man from the library, daddy. That does the voices!”

Like he’s been shocked, Judy’s dad jolts to the present where Eddie is there next to him, where their shoulders are brushing and a little girl is watching the whole thing unfold. Eddie lets him come back to himself before using his free hand to wave. “Hi, Judy’s Dad!”

The worried look that’s been on the man’s face since he walked drops down to the ground with Judy’s bike, only to be replaced with a soft smile, sort of like the one Judy first flashed him a few minutes ago. Eddie’s taken aback by how beautiful the man is – despite him being kind of a jerk for a quick second, Eddie is absolutely still on board the hot dad train. Especially now that he knows the little girl the dad belongs to.

They share a look that’s way too long in the presence of such a young person, so Eddie clears his throat. Only then does Judy’s dad start acting like a human again. “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington. Not uh – not just Judy’s dad.”

“Steve Harrington. You’re the middle school guidance counselor, right? I supply a lot of books to Nancy in the library and she’s always talking about you. I had no idea this little one was the kid she’s forever going on about.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s me. I – you know Nancy? It’s crazy to think we’ve been running in the same circles and never met before.” Steve’s cheeks turn a little red then, almost as if he’s admitting to something more than just curiosity.

It’s a gorgeous sight, one that Eddie hopes he gets to see more often.

“She’s been trying to get me to meet her friend Steve for a while. I never thought much about being set up but now I’m kind of sorry I never took her up on the offer.” He stops for a second and looks between a dad and his daughter. “Maybe this way is better, though. More raw – organic.”

The blush brightens on Steve’s cheeks and Eddie knows he’s got him.

“Are you up for it now? I hear the ice cream sundaes at Hop’s are the perfect treatment for a scraped up knee.”

The gasp he gets from Judy is almost as telling as the large smile on Steve’s lips. There’s no hesitation in the way Steve nods eagerly.

“I think that’s exactly what the doctor ordered.”

[loserdiaz]

buddie fic recs pt.3 ( fics i've read this month that i've absolutely loved )

i was in a bit of a readers block, but! i'm back with recs! gotta earn that buddie librarian title. like i said, i haven't been reading much but these ones made me feel a little less better this month. <33

let me lose myself (explicit, 39k words) by @cowboy-buddie : this fic means everything to me!! i will never shut up about it!!! if you like the step up movies and you loved ryan in them, this fic is definitely for you!!

wait for me (mature, 14k words) by @woodchoc-magnum: this fic was so good!! i read it super fast and it felt very on character (at least imo), the way they wrote buck and him needing a little time... *chef's kiss*

they're bringing up my history (you aren't even listening) (mature, 6.8k words) by @monsterrae1: the trope is child actor buck and it's so good! it's about him trying to have a normal life and move on from his past in the spotlight. it's super cute and such a great read!! i recommend it with my whole chest bc seriously!!! so fucking good!

if i loved you less (teen and up, 1.9k words) by @spaceprincessem : i really loved this one! buck can't use his phone for two days. eddie sends him text anyway. akhsjs just??? perfect. amazing! made me giggle and twirl my hair ngl.

running home to your sweet nothing (general audiences, 1.9k words) by the_oncoming_stormageddon: eddie has started ending every phone call with an “I love you”. buck doesn’t say anything, not until the day eddie doesn’t say it. loved this!!! short and sweet and made me feel all fuzzy and warm inside. so soft! idiots in love!

[cherrycherryking]

Hi! I love your stuff with Wally!! I was wondering if you could do Wally (Or Eddie if you write for him) with a reader who likes to write and make up fun stories to share with friends? (You don’t have to but I think it’d be cute) Oki have a nice daaaay :))

sooo idk if you just wanted this to be just and x reader or a character ideas, so, i did both!! hope you like it <3

(+some drawings!)

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Wally Darling x Gen!Reader (platonic or romantic) Eddie Dearest x Gen!Reader (platonic or romantic)

Writer Character

✧We got ourselves a little writer!

✧Or maybe an author, or a librarian, or a poet- point is! You love to write and create this silly funny stories for all of your friends to see.

✧Some fun concepts for a character like this could be a bee cause spelling bee! Or a mouse because library mouse (or just whatever you like)

✧We know in the show there was storybook sections. I think a lot of these would be narrated and a lot of times even created by you!

✧I can picture your segment starting with the camera focusing on you reading or writing, then inviting the viewer to follow the story along. As you may imagine for a kids show they all had a neat message at the end.

✧Oh, and another resident smarty pants! I can think of some chapters or scenes where you teach spelling and grammar. "No, is not t-h-e-y-r-e, they're birthday, but t-h-e-i-r, their birthday!" (or maybe like me you suck at spelling, so ignore this lol)

✧For outfits i can suggest plaid pattern, glasses, a vest or maybe a cardigan! You can either go for a well put together smart little guy or a mess of a bookworm (that's like a scale on my head.)

✧Sally and you could be good friends now that i think about it! She loooves to make her friends perform her plays and you're just the perfect helper for that.

(if you use this as a base credit me and tag me so i can see!!)

✧Maybe appear with Frank as well, I think he could borrow books if you have a library or even have a little book club with other neighbors :]

───────────.★..─╮ Eddie x Reader ─..★.───────────╯

✧Oh you appear to help when he's teaching arts and crafts!

✧If you're big into reading, or trying to publish a book or any other sort of thing then you would see Eddie pretty often because he would always have a package or letter for you.

✧He's a bit of a forgetful klutz so you always make sure to help him a little by organizing a calendar for him! Writing down stuff you know for sure he'll forget.

✧Yes it makes him a little bit embarrassed to say the least but he's infinitely grateful of your help.

✧Every single morning in his usual route if he has the time, he always goes past your house to say hello and catch up on what you have been writing! Eddie is interested in the story you have and always listens to it with so much focus, almost as if you were telling him the hottest latest gossip of them all.

(help my poor soul im getting into an art block. eddie someday i will make you justice i promise.)

✧Or maybe you walk with him a little to accompany him. Just a heads up! Be ready to catch him when he inevitably falls because of some marbles julie forgot to pick up, a plastic duck (Barnaby- pick up your trash!) or just because!!

✧But is all worth it at the end of the day. Eddie always has time for you and your rambles. Only problem is he likes everything you write so he's not the best person if you're searching for criticism!

───────────.★..─╮ Wally x Reader ─..★.───────────╯

✧As the most prominent character of the series the plot follows Wally, and that's a way you two end up talking so much for a starters.

✧Any time Wally is staring at his canvas with no idea of what to draw he thinks "Well, they surely will have an idea" and go search for you (that is if you're not already there).

✧Thinking about how many chapters could follow the formula of you and Wally brainstorming ideas for a story, with him drawing what you narrate (and we come back to the storybook sections of the show!)

✧He would ask you "what are you doing today, neighbor?" to which you respond that you are writing about something! He asks what, you respond, he asks for more context of your story and- well now you're infodumping to him telling him all about what you have so far.

✧Oh but he would definitely be the type to draw your characters because "they are a lot of fun".

✧Picturing calm afternoons consisting of the two of you doing parallel play and every so often showing the other your progress <3

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by the end i kinda got into an artblock 😭😭 og plan was to make two rendered drawings, one for wally other for eddit yet it appears i flew too close to the sun. my god.

also this is my first time writing eddie so i'm not sure if i captured him correctly! in any case thank you so much for reading.