#grumpy!eddie munson

[eddies-house]

Smoke Signals Masterlist

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

-All chapters with smut will be marked with a *

Ch. 1 - Damn Mailbox

Ch. 2 - Dainty

Ch. 3 - Two Old Fashioneds

Ch. 4 - Boiling Point

Ch. 5 - Cold Eggs

Ch. 6 - Sugar

Ch. 7 - Halloween

Ch. 8 - Sweet as Apple Pie

Ch. 9 - Blue Eyes

Ch. 10 - A Chemistry Lesson

Ch. 11 - Hoedown

Ch. 12 - The Holiday Season Begins

Ch. 13 - Yours

Ch. 14 - A Merry Little Christmas

Ch. 15 - TBD

[taccobelle]

WELCOME TO MY BOOK CLUB 📚

First rule about The Book Club? talk about The Book Club!

Here in TaccoBelle's book club 📚 is where I will keep a collection of all my favorite recent reads and their authors, in no particular order!

I can't always help in more impactful ways, like commissions, but I can definitely share the content!

if you'd like to join my book club give send an ask! let's make a community of these awesome reads!!

Disclaimer: due to some suspicious and disgusting events happening on this site involving a minor, I feel the obligation to reinforce that most, if not all, of these stories are 18+. They contain content that is NOT suitable for minors, so please do not interact! Mature themes will/may be discussed in these stories that is definitely not appropriate for minors. I do not claim to be the author of any of these works, merely a fan

TaccoBelle's Book Club

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader

Author: @radioactiveparker

Summery: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

What to expect: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

“A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.”

My thoughts: I am in absolute love with this series and can’t wait for updates ! I am so obsessed with the Breaksfast Club narrative, the enemies to lovers, the popular girl x school freak. It’s so enticing and I am a sucker for it! But what the author does that I am loving is that they set themselves apart from the original movie, js the interaction of the reader with other characters, I won’t spoil it, but it’s a little heartbreaking 💔 from the little that I have read from the 3 chapters so far, it is great!

Not Very Noble

Author: @allthingsjoeq

Summery: Your kingdom is placed under threat of liquidation, the villagers crying out for help as each day they enter greater poverty. As their princess you have been chosen to amend the broken monarchy, creating a truce between the neighbouring royals, and fulfilling a marriage decided by the King. A low-ranking knight and Princess both from reverse backgrounds thrusted together against choice, they descend into a journey of Hate, Lust and Love all while caught in between a circle of lies.  

What to expect: Knight Eddie x Princess Reader Disclaimer: Enemies to Lovers, Angst, eventual fluff, light smut to come. Royal and medieval references but they may not all be 100% accurate.

My thoughts: I have a huge fascination with Medieval things, and think there isn’t nearly enough Eddie Munson Medieval themed AU’s and I think that’s a problem! This in particular is so well written, so beautifully put, it made me weep, and cry like a big baby from reading this, and it’s not even complete yet!!!!!! Y’all KNOW how much I buss down for an Enemies to Lovers trope 😩 I really hope they update this soon because I am patiently waiting 🥹

Not Wholly Evil

Author: @uglypastels

Summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

What to expect: "semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

My thoughts: I LOVE me some pirate au, I think it is so incredibly fitting for Eddie to be set in this role. It is still on-going so it only has 2 chapters, but that was enough to make me sign up for the tag list!! It’s is beautifully written, the descriptions are so good it makes me feel like I am IN the Hellfire ship. Super excited to see where this is take me, and I hope they update it soon because it’s my new obsession!

Turtle dove and the crow

Author: @blue-mossbird

Summary: You’ve known Edward Munson since he moved into the farm next door with his uncle - eight years old, odd, and utterly intriguing to you. For ten years, you’ve known him, and over that time, he’s become your best friend. But now, in the dreamy haze of August heat, you begin to know him in a different way. And in this process of knowing and becoming known, lives will be irrevocably changed.

What to expect: 1940s Farm AU, featuring bsf!neighbor!eddie x fem!reader18+ (minors dni). smut; true love; unexpected pregnancy; angst, angst, angst; parental issues; corporal punishment; scheming, plotting, and betrayal; hurt/comfort; period-typical stigma regarding unwed pregnancy; angst with a happy ending. oral (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

My thoughts: holy shit my dudes, I think I found my new hyper fixation, to add to the list of stories I will check daily for updates! This is only the first episode and it already has me in a death grip 🫥 I am in love with 1940’s due to Bucky Barnes, and mixing Eddie in with that aesthetic threw me for a loop!! This is not the fic for you if you want cannon content, it is clearly set in another world, a different decade, and seems to me like it’s Eddie’s personality adapted for a 1940’s farm boy view, and I think I’m in love. Plus my fantasy of being a southern Belle (that’s my name if you didn’t know) is in an all time high with this. I can already picture all of the angst and all the crying in my bed at 2am this story will bring me, and I’m so excited 🤩

June Baby

Author: @luveline

Summary: you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue smiley face oatmeal, grossly misused power tools, desserts on the living room floor, a haircut, and an abundance of nerd metaphors

What to expect: teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is Junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, Eddie ends up being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning, etc, tw for not having much money, general loneliness, mentions of a shitty/traumatic pregnancy, general mom struggles :(, slow-burn friends to lovers, you wash Eddie’s hair!!!! this was low-key requested by anon

My thoughts: Honest to god, this is one o the best writing I have ever read on this app. The way Jade uses her words to describe the scenes, ughhhhhhh I can't explain, but Jade writes like a scene of a movie. It does not feel like the supporting characters don't feel like they seize to exist as soon as the main characters move on to a different scene. I love how the supporting characters are all incredibly detailed, feel like real people, and have real people reactions to things; weird, I know, haha. I love how much I adore this story so much. it does not feel like a simple fic, like I would invest in a start-up for this to be published into an actual book. It is so good, so sweet. I absolutely adore this story. It makes my heart do three summersaults per second every time Jade posts a new chapter, the characters have my fucking heart 🥺

Meet The Munsons

Author: @mypoisonedvine

Summary: you were barely acquaintances in high school, but his reputation as a delinquent and freak didn't exactly endear you to him. now he's moving in. at the risk of being too literal: oh, brother.

What to expect: kind of incest, but not really? male masturbation, swearing, mentions/implications of a deceased parent, reader is a tad judgmental but that's what character development is for!

My thoughts: I have read and re-read this story about three times. If I'm not mistaken, this is the only complete one on this list. I LOVE IT SO MUCH!! it made me so giddy. a grown woman giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. I love the evolution of the characters and the way, slowly but surely, their feelings start to slip out, and by the end, you are totally like, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST HOLD HANDS, I BEG OF YOU. Not gonna lie, the "kind of incest" threw me off at first, but then you find out that they aren't actually related in no way possible; the reader's mom marries Uncle Wayne, and they are not raised together, so their not that weird situation of raised like siblings, which would make it really weird when they make out pretty heavily. Can't believe I'm defending incest.

The "Yes" Policy

Author: @pinkrelish

Summary: After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.

What to expect: slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine, but Eddie's just tired, reader and Eddie are mid-late 20's

My thoughts: This fic singlehandedly made me fall in love with the sunshine x grumpy trope, the thought of Eddie being a girl dad makes my heart double in size. Him being a single dad, Wayne being grandpapi is too cute! them doing their best to provide the best for their little princess, and the relationship between Miss Mouse and Adrie has my heart.

To Have and To Scold

Author: @icallhimjoey

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It's just that... you don't really get along all that well, do you? At least, that's what you think.

What to expect: CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers (very vague, im sorry, but you'll see), language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

My thoughts: I don’t usually like reading real person fics, like when the character is actually a real life person, I much prefer a fictional character because otherwise sometimes I get weirded out. That being said, I decided to give this fic a try, and I must say that I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the story. I picked it up and couldn’t put the phone down till I finished! The characters are engaging, and story is so sweet 🫶🏼

Bad Idea

Author: @lunarzstarz

Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

What to expect: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread) Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader

My thoughts: smut, plain smut. And I love it. Eddie is kind of a dickhead, not gonna lie, but then he starts to show signs of falling for the reader, regular shmegular lowkey toxic trope, but I love it!!!!

Crayons and Cassettes

Author: @comfort-writing

Summary: You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. She bonds with you instantly, and Eddie is trying not to do the same.

What to expect: his fic will be 18+ in later chapters, so minors DNI! In this chapter, it is mentioned that rumors about Eddie still linger. no use of y/n. I can think of nothing else for this chapter because it’s just an introductory one, but please let me know if I missed anything!

My thoughts: I have not finished this fic yet, but s far it is amazing!! Eddie is so nervous and so sweet, but still nerdy, and charming.

Honey I'm Home

Author: @trashmouth-richie

Summary: you were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

What to expect: enemies to lovers trope, eventual smut, language, crude behavior, Eddie is a fucking menace.

My thoughts: I honestly fell in love with this story, it is so mysterious, and so touching, funny, endearing, and most of all, a big tease. I fell in love with these characters, and their personalities, how they are together, and how the interact with one another. The idea of an older protective Eddie, that is conflicted with the thoughts of seeing Tooty as a little girl, but now she is a grown woman is mesmerizing to read, and Richie does an amazing job at writing it all so well.

Disjointed

Author: @boomhauer

Summary: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. Faced with a lifetime worth of debt, she helps Eddie in the only way she can.

What to expect: Fake marriage. Friends to lovers. Medical trauma. Lemon/Smut. Angst. Slow burn. No Vecna!!

My thoughts: This a new type of fic for me, I had never read anything in the nursing realm, an amazing first! I appreciate the reality of it all, from what I understand the author has personally experienced some of these scenarios, and im guessing has been/is a nurse practitioner, so makes for an extremely believable, and amusing plot!!

Twenty Four Hours

Author: @ghost-proofbaby

What to expect: modern!Eddie Munson x fem!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion. strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

Summary: in which Eddie Munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty-four hours consecutively together? modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope!! This fic is full of stunning writing, amazing visual descriptions of feelings, and hot-ass characters! this made me cry on multiple occasions, in a good way! Though I am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, and mean in some chapters, but it's all for the feels!!

Smoke Signals

Author: @eddies-house

What to expect: Grumpy!Eddie Munson x shy!reader, uses female pronouns on occasion, strong language, eventual smut, PTSD, trauma, talks about trauma, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, minors dni, set in a town other than Hawkings

Summary: Relocating to the small town of Knife’s Edge in hopes of leaving your old life behind and starting brand new solves all of your problems, right? Wrong. It only creates more and one of them may live right next door. Side effects may include blaring music at 3AM, a scowling neighbor, and one too many shots of tequila on several occasions. (That The Bourbon will not be comping.)

My Thoughts: I love Enemies to Lovers trope! That much isn't any news to you guys! This fic is so lovely written, I love how real the characters feel, and how immersed I was in reading this, I am so related to the character because I too am a crybaby. Eddie is such a sweetheart in this, I just want Bambi to hug and kiss him 🥹, and mean in some chapters, but it isn't in a toxic sort of way.

Begin Again

Author: @abibliophobiaa

What to expect: Eddie’s post-S4 trauma; panic attacks; nightmares; family member loss; grief; alcohol use; mild smut in later chapters, so 18+; additional warnings to be added. Eddie Munson x afab!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes

Summary: The year is 1988. After the loss of a beloved family member, you find yourself inheriting an old coffee shop. The quiet bartender at the Hideout across the street just so happens to catch your eye.

My Thoughts: you know that I love sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie vibes! This fic is so nicely written, It has long chapters which I fiend for, I absolutely adore it when a fic has 20K words in one chapter, it only has 4 of them because it takes place as a chapter for each season, which is generous btw, wish I'd thought of this!

Beast of Burden

Author: @neonghostlights

What to expect: Fuckboy!Werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: (doesn't really have a summary, but this post the author made pretty much sums up) "I’m thinking about fuckboy!werewolf Eddie. Let’s say he’s gotten around with every girl in Hawkins because he never thought he’d have a mate. That was until you, a human, showed up and proved him wrong. Now he has to find a way to prove himself to you."

My Thoughts: yeah! fucking sue me, I like werewolf fanfictions! I can't really blame it all on Twilight, except I absolutely will blame it all on Twilight. But I swear this is really cute, and I live for it!

[cldhead]

i seek out your warmth on cold winter mornings <3

[kofi]

[somebodytoundress]

steddie is “grumpy one is in love with sunshine one” except the metalhead with all the tattoos is the sunshine one and the popular pretty boy is the grumpy one

[morganbritton132]

Dustin posts a series of videos on his Tiktok account of his time babysitting Steve and Eddie while they’re sick. He claims it’s evidence because no one would believe that two grown men act like this.

The first video he posts is literally just him asking why they are in the living room and not in bed anymore. Eddie says that he didn’t want to be alone and Steve grumbles something about this being his house, Dustin can’t tell him what to do. Dustin just sighs, “I’m glad we’re going to be mature about this.”

In the second video, Steve is throwing the pillows off the couch in search of his glasses. Eddie’s in a blanket burrito on the floor, throwing out suggestions. None of with are ‘hanging off your shirt’ with is where Steve’s glasses are.

He post one later in the day of Eddie bitching about how he can’t even walk up the stairs without needing to use his inhaler despite the fact that he doesn’t need to walk up the stairs at all. Steve is snoring so goddamn loud in the background of this one.

He post one where he and Eddie are trying to take Steve’s temperature while he’s asleep. They fail. He wakes up and he’s pissed off. He also has a fever.

Dustin post a video of the absolute death glare Steve gives Eddie the entire time Diane is reheating the soup she made for them in the kitchen.

In a different one, Eddie suggests they ‘screw the sickness away.’ Steve with his head in his hands says ‘that has literally never worked.’ Dustin tells them to knock it off or he’ll leave for real this time.

In a different video, Eddie walks into the room and sees Ozzy laying on Steve like he does when Steve’s had a seizure and tries to get up before he should. But that context isn’t known to the wider world so it looks like Eddie walks into the room and says ‘I took a shower,’ frowned, and then said ‘oh no.’

He post one of Eddie and Steve asleep with the caption ‘thank god’ and then another when he’s leaving for the day and they’re both upset that he doesn’t want to hang out with them. He ends it with, “It’s literally been a nightmare, guys.”

<- Last Post | Next Post ->

[steddieas-shegoes]

It’s not that Steve didn’t want a tattoo.

He’d wanted one for years. Just something to piss off his parents the way they pissed him off constantly.

Asking when he’d find a girlfriend (he wouldn’t, he’s gay), when he’d find a better job (he liked his job as a guidance counselor), when he’d move out of the tiny apartment he shared with that girl who couldn’t give them grandchildren (Robin gagged at the mere thought of any of that).

But Robin promised she’d go with him when he made this appointment a month ago and she’d just cancelled at the last minute. Something about a work emergency.

She didn’t have a work emergency. She worked at a Starbucks.

He knew what she was doing. It’s what she always did.

“I just wanna get you out of your shell! People should see the Steve that I see!”

Robin did get a different version of Steve, one that didn’t feel like he had to hide his surprisingly bubbly personality. His students got a calm, kind counselor. But everyone else?

They’d be lucky to get a smile during a conversation.

He wasn’t, like, an asshole.

He just had asshole tendencies.

Robin called him her Oscar The Grouch.

He allowed it because deep down, he knew it was true.

And now he was even MORE grumpy because he had to get this tattoo alone. In a place he’d almost certainly be the outcast in his glasses and business casual attire. With people judging him for not already having tattoos and piercings at the age of 27.

Robin owed him.

When he walked into the shop, he was surprised to hear classic rock instead of heavy metal. The front counter was covered in pictures of bands Steve didn’t know, tattoos he would never get, and signs that had enough vulgar words to fill up the swear jar he kept in the apartment for shits and giggles.

Nervous was an understatement.

A head popped around the corner, bright smile lighting up the face of a man who looked like he belonged here.

“Be right there!”

Steve didn’t bother to say anything because as soon as he started to respond, the head was gone.

He frowned, but figured the guy might be with another client and he was pretty sure they had rules about touching things with their gloves on. At least, he hoped they did.

He stared down at the picture on his phone.

It was small, simple. Something he wouldn’t even have to cover up at work.

One of his students drew it for him last year when he’d missed some work because of the flu. He’d only missed two days, but because he so rarely missed, his regulars were pretty worried about him.

His regulars being three students who sat with him during their lunch period to avoid bullies.

It was a sun, with beautiful yellows and oranges combining into a near perfect circle, small lines randomly jutting out and fading into nothing.

It was beautiful art.

And he was getting it permanently etched onto his body.

He loved his students, what could he say?

The head popped back around the corner, interrupting his thoughts again.

“Sorry for the wait. I had a customer on the phone. How can I help ya?”

“Steve Harrington. Here for a 6:00 appointment?”

The guy beamed at him, nodding along.

“Perfect! You said you already knew what you wanted?”

Steve held up his phone to show this still nameless guy the picture.

“You want the colors like that?”

“If you can.”

“If I can, he says! Of course I can! This is really nice. Did you make this?”

Steve snorted, but he wasn’t that amused. This guy was like a ball of energy and Steve was already exhausted.

“No. One of my students did.”

“Oh, are you a teacher?”

“Guidance counselor.”

“That’s cool! So you, like, make sure the youths of today are on the right path? Keep them interested in the right things?”

Steve blinked at this man.

“I guess, yeah. So can we uh, get started…”

“Oh shit! I always forget to introduce myself to the newbies. Eddie.” He held out his hand towards Steve to shake. Steve stared down at it for a moment, knowing his face was doing that judgy thing Robin always warned him about, but not being able to stop it. “Not a handshake guy?”

Steve cleared his throat, finally reaching his hand up to shake Eddie’s.

The rings on Eddie’s fingers were cold against his own, his grip was strong but not the type of string that made Steve uncomfortable.

Eddie was smiling at him. He never stopped smiling, this guy.

It was kind of…cute. Steve would never admit it to anyone, but the way Eddie just seemed genuinely happy was really doing it for him.

That was annoying.

When he finally remember to let go, Eddie was already turning around to grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind him.

“I’m just gonna have you send that to this email,” he pointed to the contact info on the piece of paper he’d grabbed. “And I’ll get it printed on transfer paper so we can get started.”

Steve nodded and sent the picture as requested.

He ignored the shaking of his hands. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a tattoo. Most adults have them. Robin had four. Eddie here seemed to have hundreds.

Eddie must have noticed his visible anxiety. He felt Eddie’s hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“First tattoo?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah. I’ve just done a lot of first tattoos.” Eddie pulled up the picture on his own phone while he spoke. “I promise it’ll be easier than you’re thinking.”

“I’m not worried about the pain.”

Eddie glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the phone in his hand.

“It’s just permanent, ya know?”

Eddie let out a laugh and held up both of his arms, fully covered in tattoos.

“I know. That’s what’s great. Nothing in life is permanent, but these are. Even when you’re long gone, these will still be on your body.”

Steve hadn’t thought about it like that.

Permanence was something he’d always struggled with. It’s why he was so standoffish according to the two therapists he’d tried talking to. His parents had never given him an idea of what someone staying around was like, his friendships all ended when he realized he wanted to be a better person than they were capable of being, and his only serious relationship ended when he was ready for marriage and she wasn’t.

He’d been through a lot of personal growth since then, most of it thanks to Robin and some experiences at the gay clubs she took him to, and now he felt better about who he was.

He just didn’t think anyone or anything would stick around.

Robin was proving she might, but only time would tell. Plenty of time for Steve to fuck it up.

“You can still back out, man. I won’t charge you the cancellation fee or anything.”

Oh, how nice. Eddie thought he was a wimp and wasn’t even gonna follow his own policy to let him back out.

That’s shameful. He was ashamed.

“Not backing out.”

He folded his arms in front of his chest, trying to tone down the glare he could feel on his own face.

Eddie threw his hands up as he waited for the printer to finish.

“Alright. Just letting you have an out.”

Eddie looked over the few copies he’d printed, all slightly different sizes, and then lined them up on the counter facing Steve.

“What size were you thinking? Where’s this going?”

Steve pointed to the middle one, barely an inch wide.

“I was thinking my wrist?”

Eddie smiled at him.

“Sounds good, sunshine.”

Oh. That was not good.

That little thing his stomach just did?

Nope. Not good at all.

Eddie walked around the counter and gestured for Steve to follow him around the corner.

Steve found himself in awe of the room he was walking into.

He’d never seen such variety in anything. Some of it resembled the front counter, but there was also a Bob Marley poster, a rainbow flag, a whole wall of funny bumper stickers, and graffiti along the ceiling.

It was certainly a lot for the eyes to take in.

Steve kind of loved it.

He even let out a smile.

He quickly hid it away again when he heard Eddie hit his hand against the chair.

“Got it all clean already for ya. Just take a seat and get comfy.” Eddie reached over grab some gloves from a shelf before he sat in front of Steve. “Gonna put this on you first. Make sure the placement is good. Then I’ll shave that area and get all my stuff ready to go. The tattoo itself probably won’t take more than an hour, and most of that will be shading these beautiful colors. Need anything before we get started? Water? Bathroom? Snack?”

Steve’s head was spinning.

Eddie’s energy was relentless, and he had a smile on his face the entire time.

Steve couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Eddie nodded and started humming along to the song playing over the speakers.

He went through everything quickly, but still took his time explaining everything. Steve was kind of grateful he didn’t have to sit in silence; His brain wasn’t his friend when there was silence.

“Alright, sunshine. If you’re good, I’m good.”

Steve felt his face heat up, blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck.

“I’m good.”

And then he started.

It was sharp, the needles carving ink into his skin causing a new sensation up his entire arm. But it was also…good?

He’d expected it to be painful, maybe even go numb. He hadn’t expected the pain to feel like this.

He lost focus. Everything felt distant and blurry, but in a sleepy way, not in a pass out way. Steve felt himself smiling slightly, but didn’t have the energy to stop it.

He was watching Eddie work, but wasn’t really seeing anything beyond the way his fingers splayed his skin tight and the tattoo gun left ink behind.

His eyes closed at some point, but he wasn’t asleep, the faint buzz of the tattoo gun keeping him present enough to stay awake.

“Hey, sunshine. Doing alright?”

“Hm?”

He tried to focus in on Eddie’s face. Eddie was very close. He was holding his wrist.

Steve was still here.

“Need a break?”

“No. I’m good.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’d say so.”

He continued, and Steve let his mind wander again. It was nice to drift. He’d never felt this relaxed before, not even during the massage Robin got him for his birthday last year.

“Alright, sunshine. You’re done.”

Steve looked down at the tattoo now covering his wrist.

It was beautiful, even better than the picture.

He started to cry.

If he wasn’t so far gone, he’d probably be embarrassed or angry about it, but surely other people had cried after a tattoo before. Maybe Eddie would just ignore it.

“Oh, sweetheart. Do you not like it?”

“No. I love it.” Steve took a shaky breath, then another. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Eddie was rubbing his back and smiling sadly down at him.

“I’m glad you love it. I just have to wrap it up and go over some care instructions, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steve was never this vulnerable, not even with Robin. He was pretty sure she’d only actually seen him cry once when a student moved away.

His whole thing was that he didn’t show emotions. His job required it to an extent, though he was always caring to his students, giving them smiles when they came in to make them feel welcome.

But here he was smiling and crying to a stranger over a tattoo.

“Sunshine?”

“Yeah?”

“Got you some water. I need you to look at me while I go over the instructions okay?”

“Okay.”

He felt himself coming back down to earth as he looked at Eddie, a soft smile making Steve focus in on his mouth.

“That’s good. Keep this wrapped for four hours at least and longer if you’ll be outside. When you take it off, make sure you wash it with antibacterial soap gently and then use moisturizing lotion, unscented is best. If you need some, I can give you some. Make sure to keep it moisturized over the next week. It’ll peel a little, that’s normal, but if you see anything that’s a lot of color falling out or something, come see me and I can fix it. No long exposure to direct sunlight for at least 4 weeks, and use sunscreen on it if you think you will be.” He took a breath and smirked. “Got it?”

“Um.”

He handed over a paper with a laugh.

“It’s all right here. I just needed you to come back down from space. Drink your water and relax for a minute. I’ll go get the card reader.”

Steve did as he was told, enjoying the way the ice cold water helped him focus back in on his surroundings.

With the focus came the grumpiness. He was crashing from his adrenaline high, and his first instinct was to pout.

He didn’t think he was visibly doing so until he heard Eddie snort from a few feet away.

“Welcome back. Sorry to burst your bubble. If I didn’t have another client in 20 minutes, I’d probably have let you stay there for a bit. Seems like you needed it.”

“I. What do you mean? I was just zoned out.”

Eddie froze where he was typing something into his phone.

“Have you never…? Oh. Jesus Christ. Okay. Well. I don’t.” He looked genuinely concerned about what to do. “Okay. I don’t feel comfortable letting you be alone yet. Do you have someone you live with or who can hang out for a bit?”

“My roommate had a work emergency or she’d be here.”

Steve’s arms were crossed again, but the pull of the wrap around his wrist reminded him of the dull ache he was still experiencing. It made him shiver, but he couldn’t explain why.

“Okay. Can you stick around for a bit? I’ve got an office with a couch in the back.”

“Are you gonna tell me why?”

“Ever heard of sub space?”

“Like…the kinky thing?”

Eddie facepalmed.

“Yeah. Like the kinky thing.”

“I mean, I’ve heard of it. Why?”

“You just spent the last hour in it.”

Steve was usually pretty good at keeping a pretty stoic face, but his jaw dropped.

“No I didn’t.”

“Sunshine, you were gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that deep from a tattoo before.”

“If this is just a way to get me alone in your office or something…”

“Steve. I know you don’t know me, but I would never do that. If I wanted to get you alone, I’d just ask you.”

“I’m sure I’d say no.”

“Exactly. So you’ll stay so I can keep an eye on you?”

Steve shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do and Robin wouldn’t be home for hours.

“I guess.”

Eddie’s eyes were practically glittering.

“Good. Go lay down, sunshine. I’ll bring you more water in a minute.”

So despite Steve having no idea what just happened, and barely any idea who Eddie even was beyond a talented tattoo artist, he made his way to the office and curled up on the couch.

Pout firmly in place because he was still Steve, after all.

Chapter 2 /  Chapter 3

[afewproblems]

I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.

The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.

She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.

It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.

The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.

Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.

Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.

"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."

Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.

He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.

"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.

Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".

Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.

God Dammit.

He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.

"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.

It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.

"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.

Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.

"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"

Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".

Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.

"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"

"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.

"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.

He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"

"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.

And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.

Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.

And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.

Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.

"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.

Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"

He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".

[lesservillain]

— i. did you get what you deserve?

summary: the beginning.

cw: season 4 canon divergent, grumpy eddie, medical talks

an: this is a wayne heavy chapter, but i doubt anyone will complain.

Ringing. A very loud ringing. That’s all Eddie can hear.

Something’s pushing on his chest.

The ringing gets louder, until it peaks and starts to fade. Muffled voices all around him, and he can feel his body shifting. 

Then it shifts a lot. Ouch, that hurts.

Everything is dark. Or maybe his eyes are closed?

His eyes flutter a bit, but everything is blurry. 

There’s some yelling, but it’s too garbled in his ears to make out what’s being said.

It was dark one moment, then suddenly very bright. Like a flash directly in his eye. And then again. 

Everything hurts, he notices suddenly. But only because he feels it all slipping away. His body starts to float, suspended in black with a light just above him. Instinctively he swims towards it. It feels like warm sun rays on his cold, cold body.

When he hits the surface, everything starts to hurt again. His eyes open to a dimly lit room. Every part of his body feels heavy. Even moving his head is a challenge. There’s something next to him though, a presence that he can see out of his peripherals. He tries to call out, but there’s something in his mouth, his throat, obstructing his ability to talk. With all he can muster, he lets out a groan through his nose. Whatever is next to him shifts, moving quickly with a screech. 

“Ed? Ed, you awake son?!”

“I can help who’s next!”

Feet shuffling beneath you, you clutch your handbag close as you move through the bodies of your classmates. A handsome man about your age with a million dollar smile sits on the other side of the table. He looks at you expectantly as you take the hint, fumbling in your bag for your student ID.

“Sorry,” you mumble as he gives the card once over. He says your name and laughs when you respond with a yes?

“Thank you for coming,” he beams, “We’re happy to see so many people volunteering to help out.” He clicks his pen and copies your name down on a paper. You look him over as he does this. Thick, dark hair styled perfectly, with long lashes to match. His name is Sam, per the Hello my name is sticker on his shirt. He’s cute, you think.

“Yeah,” your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth so it comes out weird. After licking your lips, you continue. “Our teacher told us we could get extra credit. I guess everyone could use it after our last test.”

Nursing school is hard. Even harder when you don’t know anyone in your class. A lot of the girls all went to the surrounding high schools and knew at least one other person in one of their classes. But that wasn’t the case for you.

“I’ve heard some of those classes you all take are no joke,” he laughs, flipping through a stack of papers next to him.” 

“I certainly wasn’t laughing.”

He stops his flipping, looking up at you through those thick lashes, his eyes creased at the corners from his smile.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

The question catches you off guard. Was it that obvious?”

“N-no, I’m from up north.” You gesture upward, pointing above you.

“Like Canada?”

Now you’re smiling, “Try Anderson.”

“Oh, jeez,” he shakes his head, “That’s hardly north.”

“More north than here.”

“You got me there.” 

He pulls a small stack from his pile, sliding it across the table until it’s in front of you. You look down at it, immediately noticing that a large portion of the top page is blacked out by sharpie. Flipping it over, you see that the second page is pretty much the same, barely any information to be gathered at all from this “info” sheet.

“You look confused,” Sam says in a sarcastic tone.

“Um, just a little,” you sass him back, looking at him with a silent plea for answers.

“Okay, so, this guy here,” he points to the top of the page, finger just above the name Eddie Munson. “He’s not a very…popular guy around this area. I’ve been trying to get someone to take him as their case all morning and everyone’s turned him down.”

Your head tilts, eyes skimming over the paper as he talks. Under his name is an address in Hawkins, but most everything else is blacked out, even his age.

Still, even with the lack of knowledge you’ve hardly ever been one to turn someone down.

“Okay,” you say with a nod. 

“Okay?” Sam parrots back, shifting forward excitedly in his seat. 

“Yes, I’ll take him.”

“That’s great!” 

He grabs his pen and writes your name next to Mr.Munson’s on the paper, before sliding it into a white folder.

Sam pauses for a moment, a hand running through his hair as he looks around. “Hold on,” he says as he stands up, “let me find my lead and I’ll try and get you some more information on him.” He looks into your eyes, then up and down at you. Was he checking you out? Ugh, why did you have to be in your uniform right now?

You stand awkwardly as he leaves, taking the time to flatten the wrinkles in your dress and adjust your flossie. This school was one the only schools who hadn’t gotten with the times, still mandating the Nightingale uniform over scrubs for any female students. 

“Okay, so,” Sam tucks some papers into a red folder, “I wasn’t able to get anything too specific to tell you. I guess there’s a lot of hush hush going on with him right now. But, my lead did tell me I could give you this care packet. It’s all stuff you should know how to do, but it’ll give you a hint on what kind of care he’s going to need.”

You take the folder from him, opening it up to peak inside, only for him to place another paper with a card attached on top. 

“That paper is for the organization itself. You just have to have the patient or guardian sign when you go over there as proof to get your credit. Oh and,” he points to the card,” that’s my information. Feel free to call me if you, uh, have any questions.”

Suddenly, someone bumps into you. You close the folder quickly and turn around with wide eyes. 

“Sorry, sorry,” your classmate, Rhonda, apologizes with a wave of her hands as she keeps walking down the table. You breathe in, giving her a nod of acknowledgment before looking at Sam again. 

“Okay, um, thank you for everything,” you say, backing up from the table and making your exit. He calls out to you, but your ears are already starting to ring before you can even get to the double doors. 

Your feet carry you out of the building and into the hot August air. Sweat immediately beads at your hairline under the unforgiving sun, a most brutal summer that feels like it’s never going to end. 

You make a beeline for the parking lot, fumbling with your keys as you unlock your car and immediately begin rolling your windows down to try and let the non-existent breeze cool down your interior. Reaching inside you grab your pack of smokes and lighter from your middle console, lighting one up and feeling immediate relief as the smoke fills your lungs.

The drive to your friend's house is quiet other than the low tune of the radio playing. Tonya’s car isn’t in the driveway, and you say a silent thanks under your breath to have some time alone. You love Tonya, she’s been with you through everything, but you need some time to mentally decompress before dealing with her big personality.

After a quick shower and a bit of rummaging through the fridge for something quick to eat, you sit at the dining room table and start going through the red folder Sam gave to you. The top paper with the signature spots had a section on the top that you hadn’t noticed before where some information had been filled out. 

“The patient would like to be seen at…” You see a few time slots printed on the paper starting from 8 am ranging all the way to 5pm, the ladder being the time circled. You suddenly realize Sam never asked you what your availability was, or much of anything really. Not that you asked him anything either.

Five pm was pretty late in the day, and as you kept reading, you noticed that the next section asking for “frequency of visits” had Monday through Friday circled. 

This guy wants to be seen every day? You think to yourself. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to cook for him or something.

Going through the different directional packets doesn’t make you feel much better. Information on post op care, wound disinfection, dressing changes--things you’ve done before, but not by yourself, and certainly not in someone’s home. 

Why do you do this to yourself?

The drive to Hawkins isn’t terrible. The “Welcome to Hell” didn’t do anything to settle your nerves, but you persisted.

A lot of closed roads lead you to take some detours, but you’d still be able to see how badly damaged the town was after the earthquake hit them. Businesses, houses, streets, all completely ruined by the way the ground split the town in fours.

You mustered up the courage to ask one of your classmates from here about what happened, and she told you that some serial killer tried to destroy the town by sacrificing teens to the devil. “Oh, okay,” was all you could give as a response. It was hard to tell if she was fucking with you or not, so you just decided to go and see Sam instead.

That turned out to not be a fruitful endeavor either. He seemed to dance around your questions, dodging them by asking you about yourself instead. You left with none of your questions answered other than a start date for your visitations.

The start day is today, a blazing hot Monday. You didn’t have time to change out of your uniform since your professor asked you to stay over to help clean up after labs, clock getting closer and closer to 5pm as you drive down this woodsy road.

A mailbox appears ahead with numbers that match the address given to you. You slow down and turn onto the gravel path, expecting to see a house as you do. Instead the drive continues into the woods, the thick lining of the surrounding trees blocking you from seeing past the brush even with full sun. The gravel crunches under your tires as you keep going down the path, following it up a slight incline before reaching a clearing. 

In the center of the clearing is a one story ranch style house, half brick and half light blue paneling. It has a covered front porch, bare except for a small table and a single chair,  an overflowing ashtray dead in the center. Well that’ll be good for you.

The house looked brand new, and completely out of place in the middle of the woods. It was almost creepy in the way it contrasts against the trees and dirt, no grass to be found. 

That's what it is, you realize. This house feels void of life.

You park your car next to an old gray pick up truck and sit there for a moment. Maybe you could smoke one more cigarette before going in. But what if they heard you coming and wonder why you’re taking so long?

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, grabbing your supply bag and pushing open the car door. 

You keep your head down, watching the dirt stick to your black uniform shoes as you cross the yard to the front porch. You knock on the door, wiping your feet on the welcome mat as best as you could. A pair of dirty work boots sits just outside the door. 

There’s movement behind the door that makes your head snap up, taking in a deep breath as you wait for the door to open. A quiet pause is interrupted by the sounds of multiple locks being undone and the door pulling open just enough to make the chain lock taught. 

An older gentleman’s wrinkled face makes its appearance in the crack of the door, looking at you up and down. “Can I help you?” He has a slight southern drawl, voice a bit horse as if he had just woken up. 

“Y-yes,” you squak, “um, are you Mr.Munson?”

His eye narrows and you see his arm shift behind the wall. 

“Depends on who's askin.”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m here volunteering with Visiting Angels? I was-“

He cuts you off with your name, asking it as a confirmation of who you are. You nod, “Yes, that’s me!” He looks you up and down. He grunts, shifting a bit until the sound of something hitting the ground slightly catches your attention. 

The door closes slightly, and with a click opens fully to reveal the older man in his entirety, standing aside enough for you to walk in, but his eyes scan the area behind you suspiciously. 

“Come on in,” he says, closing the door behind you, “I honestly didn’t think anyone was gonna come.”

“Well, I don’t mind the drive,” you say with a tight smile. Mr.Munson stands in place as you let your eyes wander over the house. The smell of fresh paint filled your nostrils, and the new furniture and bare walls gave you the same creepy feeling as the outside of the house. As your eyes reach the front door, you suppress a physical reaction to the large shotgun leaning against the wall next to it. 

A deep sigh from the man has you turning to face him, his rough hand running over his face to the back of his head. “You don’t have any clue, do you?”

“I’m sorry?” You’re having a hard time hiding the nerves that are bubbling up in your chest, body entering fight or flight mode. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, walking away from you and plopping down in one of the recliners. He gestures to the couch, “Have a seat, I’ll try and explain.”

You hesitate. You’re right by the door, you don’t have to do this. This guy doesn’t seem like he needs any help anyway. Sam’s words about him not being very popular in this area come to the forefront of your mind and now your head is swirling with possibilities as to why. 

A small ringing from another part of the couch pulls you from your spiral. 

“Shit, hold on a second,” the man says as he rises back to his feet, “let me go see what he wants and I’ll be right back.” He walks past you and down the hall, leaving you by yourself. 

This is it. Just turn around now and leave. 

“Whatcha need, Ed?”

Your ears perk up. Was the man you were talking to not who you came here for? Maybe it’s his dad, and the man you’re talking to is just Eddie’s tired son who needs help taking care of him. But why would he call his own dad Ed? Maybe it’s an uncle or a family friend? He did say he was a Munson…

“Okay, let me whip something up for ya.”

The mystery Munson walks back down the hall, slowing down enough to talk as he walks by. “The boy’s hungry, can we talk in the kitchen while I heat him up somethin?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you say after a moment, following behind him into a large dining room/kitchen area. There’s a huge table in the center of the dining area that’s covered with boxes labeled with things like “dishes,” “salvaged photos,” “salvaged misc.” It all the sudden clicks for you.

“So, I’m not sure what all they told you,” the man starts, speaking with his back turned as he pulls some things from the fridge. 

“I was given a name and an andress,” you say almost playfully, letting some of the tension leave your body. 

“Should’a known,” he says, looking over his shoulder at you with a smile and a roll of his eyes. “I think its for legal purposes, they can't disclose much about my nephew or something like that. But, uh,” he nods his head to one of the bar chairs at the counter between the two of you, “I can.” 

And so he did. He told you about how a murderer had escaped from prison and snuck back to Hawkins, murdering teens and attempting to pin it on his nephew. The killer had killed a girl in their old trailer, right in front of Eddie, almost killing him, too. 

But, since no one had realized that the killer escaped, the whole town had believed it was Eddie the whole time. Four teens were killed, almost 5, and Eddie was brutally tortured before his friends were able to save him. 

“Oh, my god,” you gasp with a hand over your mouth. 

“I know,” the man, Wayne, says as he scoops the macaroni and cheese into a bowl. He opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon with a large, grippy handle that you recognized from your nurse shadowing. They’re normally used for people who’ve had strokes or other hand mobility issues. He shoves the spoon into the bowl and walks around the counter. 

“I guess I’ve talked about him enough, might as well meet him for yourself.”

You slid out of your seat and follow Wayne down the hall to the very end. He gives the door a knock before opening it with a quick “coming in!” 

Stepping in behind him, you see a large, mostly empty room with more new looking furniture and a few boxes in various places. In the center against the wall was a hospital bed with a large pull bar dangling above it. You were expecting to see someone laying in the bed, but were met with the sight of a lump of blankets and comforters instead. 

“Ed, food’s ready boy,” Wayne says as he pulls a bedside table from against the wall to the bed. “Got someone here for you to meet, too.”

The lump on the bed moves a bit, and for a brief moment you see a set of eyes and a few wild curls peek from under the covers. But, just as quickly as you see them, they’re hidden once again. 

“Ed—“

“No,” his muffled, strained voice calls from under the covers. 

“Boy, don’t do this. You know I can’t leave you alone when I go—“

“No!” The voice squeaks, followed by a harsh cough. Wayne sighs, setting the bowl down softly.

“Let me get him set up and I’ll, uh, meet you back out in the living room.”

“Oh, okay,” you say quickly, backing out of the room and closing the door behind you. You’re barely down the hall when you can hear some strained yelling coming from the last room at the end of the hall. 

You settle back in the kitchen where you can’t hear the conversation happening between the two men. You thought about dark and dull eyes that looked at you briefly, how even with only that small glance of him, Eddie looked tired. Just about as tired as his uncle, who rounded the corner a few minutes later. 

“I’m so sorry about him, he’s just a little weary about strangers,” the older man says walking over to the phone sitting on the wall, picking it up and dialing. 

“It’s okay, I can understand that.” You give him a small smile, which he tries to return, but is distracted as whoever he’s calling picks up on their end. 

“Hey, Chief, it’s Wayne—sorry, yeah, Jim. Listen, Ed’s new caretaker is here, but he’s throwing a bit of a fit about ‘er. Think you’d be able to come and sit with him f’r the night until we can try again tomorrow?”

Disappointment washes over you. Not that you weren’t used to rejection, but you’d hardly been able to even give a first impression. Maybe your uniform put him off? Gotta start keeping clothes in the car to change into from now on…

The phone clings as Wayne hangs it up, body relaxing as a slow breath leaves him. He looks over to you, rather looking through you for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Little miss, can I be frank with you?”

“It’s the uniform isn’t it?”

Wayne barks out a laugh, and you chuckle even though your inquiry was serious. “No, no--well, maybe a little.”

“I knew it,” you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to wear it when you’re here. S’long as you’re decent I don’t really care what you wear here to be honest. But, I did want to talk to you more about what we’re actually needing here.”

You look up at him, head tilting to the side in confusion. Several questions sit on the tip of your tongue, but you chose to just nod for him to continue.

“Okay. So, uh, I’ve been off work this whole time. Since March. I’ve been with the plant for a long time and my boss’s took a lotta pity on me with everything that’s going on. But…well that time is running out, and I can’t rely on anyone else to keep these bills paid, ya know?”

“Yes, yeah, I totally get that. Broke college kid here.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “So, I gotta go back to work. Tonight, actually, and, uh, I know this is short notice, but I need someone to stay here…while I’m at work.”

Your eyes go wide. “Oh, you wanted me to be, like, an overnight caretaker?”

“Yeah, I just, ya see with everything I told you about what happened, I couldn’t get anyone to come out and take care of him. Either they couldn’t pass a background check or once they realized who he was…So the Visiting Angel’s place was my last ditch effort to try and get someone in here. They said that it would be free if we went through the volunteer program, and that even though y’all are students that you’d still be able to help--But I understand if you can’t. You probably got a job and a family and a boyfrie--”

“I’ll do it.” The words fly out of your mouth without much thinking. But this poor man in front of you has been through hell with his nephew and how can you say no to him?

“Wait, really?” It’s his turn for his eyes to bug out, hardly able to believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t mind. What time do you need me to be here?”

Wayne’s face softens, head hanging low like he still can’t wrap his head around your words. “Well, uh,” he starts, “I gotta leave here ‘round 6:30 and I work til about 5 am give or take depending on the night crew. If you'd be here about 6 or quarter after, that would be just fine. I don’t know how to cook much, but I could try and whip ya up something when I make Ed’s dinner, and you could work on yer school or watch tv or whatever girls your age like to do.”

“I’m plenty content to just work on school or watch tv,” you assure him.

“Good, good,” he says with a nod, turning to look into the living room. “We don’t got a bed in the third bedroom yet, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch until I can find the time to go and get one. Am I gonna have’ta talk to your parents or anything about why you’re not coming home during the week or anything?”

“What? Oh, no, no,” you wave your hands at his question, “Not unless you know how to talk to the dead.”

“Ah, shit, sorry,” Wayne cringes, hand running through his barely there hair. 

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you say as you stand from your chair, “I will have to figure out how to tell my roommate. I don’t think she would like it if I told her that I was staying the night with a guy who was acquitted for murder.” 

Oops. You bite your tongue between your teeth, wishing you could take the last bit of that sentence back. But Wayne’s laugh makes you feel less bad.

“Trust me, if I was in your roommates shoes I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

The ring of Eddie’s bell echoes down the hall again, pulling both of your attention to the sound. 

“Better let me go myself. Don’t want to upset him again tonight. Why don’t you go head and head home and in the meantime I’ll talk to him. Try again tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Good,” Wayne says, walking you to the door. He lets you out with a goodbye, the closing of the front door being followed by the sounds of locks being put back in their place.

The drive home was quiet, but your head was swirling with thoughts. Your brain goes back and forth on the situation you just got yourself into.

Instead of focusing on the negatives, you decide to make a list in your mind of things you’d need to bring with you to stay the night; a toothbrush, deodorant, your own pillow and blanket—would they let you take a shower there? Hopefully so, since some days you’re going to have to come over straight from work or class. So add shampoo and conditioner. Probably body wash, too. You doubt that two men living together use anything other than head and shoulders.

You cringe when you think about using feminine products while there. Maybe you’d just keep them in your bag and grab them as you need them. It wouldn’t hurt to bring an extra towel in case you need to put it under you while you sleep. 

Going through your mental checklist helps make the drive go by. Before you know it, you’re turning onto your street, where, surprise, surprise, Tonya’s boyfriend is once again parked in your spot in the driveway. You park on the street with a huff, thinking of all the things you want to say, but know you ultimately wont, not being one for confrontation.

“Hey, girl,” Tonya calls out from the couch. The smell of delicious food filling the whole house, so you know Charles must be cooking. “Go get a plate, Charlie just finished cooking.”

“I’m good, I grabbed something while I was out.” A lie, but you’d rather retreat to your room until Charles left. You’ve never been a fan of him and his pompous, know it all attitude. It was just better if you kept your interactions with him to a minimum rather than having to pretend he doesn’t get on your nerves. 

It was a few hours later, nearing 10 pm when you finally heard Tonya shut the front door, signaling that it was safe to leave. She was cleaning up Charle’s mess in the kitchen when you walked out from your room. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, keeping a comment about cleaning up after a child to yourself.

“I was wondering when you were going to come out,” she teases. “Thought I was gonna have to slip you a plate under your door.”

“Ha, ha,” you deadpan, opening the fridge to pull out leftovers from the weekend. 

“So why’d you come home so late today?”

The calendar with both of your schedules scribbled in stared you in the face as you closed the refrigerator door. You weren’t a very social person, usually just coming straight home from school or work. And even though Tonya was a very chill person 99% of the time, that wasn’t the case when it came to you. 

“I, uh…” you stuttered. You had the whole drive home and you forgot to think about what you’d tell her. If she knew the truth, she’d flip her lid and talk you out of it. You could try to lie, but there’s no way she’d believe you if you told her you were staying with a new guy that you’d never talked about or that you were helping out another friend she knows you don’t have. 

“I had a job interview!” It was the only sensible thing you could think of that may be somewhat convincing to her. “For a…nursing home. As a nurse's assistant.”

“Woah, really?” Tonya sets her cup on the counter, jaw dropped in excitement. “Omg, okay, how did it go? Are they going to have you do another interview? Details, girl, details!”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, putting out your hands to keep her from shaking you. You wrack your brain, trying to come up with a story on the spot. “It’s a newer nursing home…very small. Um, I would be able to do some of my nursing stuff under supervision of a nurse. And…it’s overnights—“

“Hold on, overnights?” Tonya interruptus, “Girl, that’s a lot with your school schedule.”

“Oh, um, I know, but its super casual and I can sleep in the afternoon when I get out of class or after work—“

“Wait, you’re not quitting CoffeeHouse?”

Shit.

“Ah, about that, um, I’m…still going to try and work there, just in case. Like if this doesn’t work out.” 

Tonya eyes you, making your hands feel sweaty under her scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t understand,” she states with a concerned tone. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you need to have two jobs? You don’t pay rent, Charlie cooks for all of us a couple times a week. I take care of the bills—“

“I feel guilty,” you blurt out, feeling actually guilty when you see her face contort with sadness. 

“No, babes, I told you that I didn’t want your money. I want you to focus on something for you for once.”

“This is for me though. It’s a chance to actually get a more authentic experience in my field, and — and I can’t just take and take from you forever.”

Tonya lunges forward, enveloping you in her arms. “Why noooooot,” she wines, fake crying into your shoulder, “just let me take care you, baby giiiiiirl.”

“Stooooooooop,” you cry back, “I’m an independent woman who don’t need no man, remember? I believe you’re the one who told me that.”

“Right, no man. But you do need me!” She pulls back flashing her picture perfect smile at you that has had guys folding for her since middle school. 

“You’re right,” you sigh in faux defeat, “if only I was enough for you…”

“Oh my gooooood, just get over your hang ups and learn to love him. He’s really not that bad.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“Not like you have room to talk.”

You gasp, putting on a dramatic display at her poking at your taste in men. 

“Don’t even try it,” she flicks your forehead. “When you find a guy that’s not totally batshit, then come talk to me.”

“I can’t help that I attract the crazies.”

After a few more white lies and half truths, the conversation shifts to other topics, including that of a retreat that Charles is planning for the two of them for their one year anniversary. Eventually you wind down and head to your room, making sure to check the locks on the door and windows on the way. 

thank you for reading.

[unamused-boss]

Tip Toes

Prompt: "Shut up, you know I'm literally obsessed with you"

Billy Hargrove x Fem Reader

(Billy maybe a little OC) May have some misspelling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It all started with a simple question "You free Saturday at 1?". Such a simple question right? What could possibly happen when your boyfriend of 6 months, Billy Hargrove, asks if you're free Saturday afternoon. Well lets start from the beginning right after your shift at the record store...

The chime of the bell at the front door gains your attention, putting on your customer service smile and voice. "Hello welcome to- and it's just you." Your voice going somewhat flat after seeing it was your boyfriend and not a customer.

"Wow, do you welcome all your favorite customers like that?" Billy grinned at you.

"What do you want?" You said to him, "You know I don't get off till 6:45." You lean your body over the counter and crossing your arms under your chest to be closer to Billy. Billy, having the same grin on his face that he walked in with, does the same motion as you. In a result your noses almost touching. You giggle at his antics.

"Well. I was wondering if you were free Saturday at 1?" Billy asked.

"Why?"

"Cause your pretty and I wanna take you out" Billy said like that was reason enough.

"Why?" Now you got playful.

"Cause it's a surprise." Billy said.

"Why?"

"Can you go Saturday or not?" He laughed.

"Yes I can go Billy, I would love to." You smiled. Billy leaned forward an gave you a smooch on your lips. You giggled into the kiss as he parted ways from your lips.

"Okay, Saturday at 1. Just look pretty like you always do." He said making his way out of the store. Now you get to be giddy till this Saturday when your date is.

Saturday, current time-12:55

You have been meticulously been putting yourself together for you date. Your make had warm tones and put delicately onto your face to enhance your already pretty features. Your outfit was put together perfectly in the case of being outside, going to a cute restaurant, or the need for back seat action for after.

You stared at the clock on your bedside as the hour changed to 1:00. At that moment the doorbell rung through the house. You jump up from your bed and down your stairs to the door, running past your mom to the door to open it.

"I got it!" You yelled.

"Alright, honey." Your mom laughed. You opened the door to see your dashing boyfriend. With his usual unbuttoned shirt that showed off his chest and jeans that fit him right. Billy smiled when he saw you.

"Hello gorgeous."

"Hey handsome." You said to Billy. "Bye mom!" You shouted to your mom as you shut the door leaving. Making your way to Billy's car, he opened the door for you to get in.

"Wow, doing all the stops are we." You joked.

"Just get in sweetheart." Which you did. Then Billy got into the drivers seat. And the date has begun. The short drive you thought that was going to be taken turned into a two hour drive to Indianapolis. You started looking out to all the tall buildings, "Billy what are we doing?" You asked as you still looked out at the city.

"Don't worry pretty girl, I know what I'm doing." Was all Billy answered with. It was another twenty minutes till Billy parked that car in a parking garage. He took my hand. We walked for what felt like five minutes; we then arrived to a familiar building, 'well at least for me.'

"Billy, why are we at the International Indianapolis Museum?" You looked to him. Billy just smiled to you.

"Because your super amazing boyfriend got two tickets for the limited time art expedition for his sweet girlfriend that he loves." He said, flashing two tickets to you. You stared wide eyed at him, mouth gaped an all. You've been talking his ear off about the exposition. Painting from not only the British museum is here but the Louve as well, only for two weeks here in Indianapolis. You couldn't afford ticket so you thought it was out the window. But some how your boyfriend got you tickets.

"You got us tickets." You said.

"Yep."

To go to a museum?"

"Yes I did."

"But you hate museums?!" You are flabbergasted by this.

"Yes, but I love you." Billy smiled, " I'm gonna have ten hour shifts for a while but it's worth it." Putting his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him. Your chests meet: Billy is just smiling down to you.

"But-" You were cut off.

"Shut up, I'm literally obsessed with you." Billy stated, holding you close. "You are the only girl I wanna be with, and the only girl that stand my bullshit." You laughed at him hugging him close to you.

"Okay, let's go in lover boy." You both made your way to the front, Billy giving the tickets to the man in the booth. With the transaction down with you made your way in.

The colors blasted into your face. Never letting Billy's hand go, dragging him from one painting to another. Whispering small notes and facts about each painting to him. Billy letting you do it with a smile on his face. You and Billy made it to a hall of art pieces. They were gorgeous. The pinks were bright, the purples, the yellows... the red. Everything was perfect. Faint classical music played in the back. What also surprised you was what small number of people were here. Well it was the last day of the expo, so it made since. You and Billy did kinda stick out a bit; being that you guys weren't as well dressed as the others. Nothing mattered though. You were with Billy holding his hand the entire time, no one else existing to either of you. In front of you, for real life, was The Kiss by Gustav Klim. You just stared ahead at the piece, unknown to you was that Billy was staring at you.

"Isn't she beautiful." You simply said.

"Yeah, you are." Billy answered. You look to him with wide eyes; a smiled then forms on your face. You realize that it was only you and Billy in the exhibit room now. You felt Billy lean back a bit dragging you with him, taking your other hand within his.

"Okay do it." He said with no context.

"What?" You asked.

"Really." He laughed, "You dance on my feet, now do it I find it cute."

"Okay bossy." In your doc martins you step onto his motorcycle boots, even on his feet you were still kinda on your tiptoes. You both gently swaying to the music that played over head. Nothing mattered to either of you except for right now. The light were dim but you both could still see each other. Your hand in his the other on his shoulder; with his hand also in yours as for the other is on your hip. Billy guided you both across the floor of the museum following the melody. You both just stared at each other, lovingly. Billy leaned toward you kissing your cheek softly then moving to your lips. This wasn't your first kiss with Billy, obviously, but this was one your few kisses like this. Nothing but soft. passion that you hold for each other. Your kiss felt like the universe was yours, nothing else could ruin this. Billy separated from the kiss.

"I love you." He said sweetly.

"I love you too." You smiled. Stepping of his boots, locking your hand with his and continuing you way through the museum. After a few more expo rooms and a few sculpture pieces, you and Billy made your way outside. Billy's watch reading 5:30.

"So what are we doing now?" You asked.

"We, my sweet girl, are going to the best restaurant in all of Indianapolis." Billy stated walking with you in hand down the street.

"Really?" You were shocked.

"Yeah we're going to Burger King." You laughed at his response. "Hey we are on a budget from the point out." He joked back at you.

"Alright, whatever you say lover boy." You wrap yourself around his arm and continue your prefect night with you perfect boyfriend. Laughing and kissing the night away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!

Also I will start working on Part three of California Dreaming soon!

@capitanostella

@maackiimoo

@mystargirl-interlude

@bbarbiegurll

[rip-quizilla]

Polyjamourous

Eddie x GN!Reader

Description: You get a job at the record store, where you terrorize Eddie with so many different genres of music that he gets whiplash, but your energy is adorable so he's instantly soft for you.

Tags: big grumpy/sunshine trope here, fluff, workplace relationship (kind of), outgoing!reader, Hannah putting her liked songs on shuffle and using them here shamelessly, no physical description of reader other than hinting that they have a glorious gyatt that Eddie can't help but stare at.

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: I didn't coin the term "polyjamourous"! I saw it in a TikTok by Viktor Fellbrink. Does it describe me perfectly though? Absolutely.

🎧🎧🎧

When Eddie had interviewed you for a job at the record store downtown, one of the first questions he’d asked was about your taste in music. Your response had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“I’m polyjamourous.” you’d said. 

Eddie had blinked a couple of times, a snorted laugh jumping from his throat. “Polyjamorous…” he’d repeated, an amused grin ticking up the corner of his mouth. “That’s one I have not heard before.”

You had shrugged, smiling the same way you’d been smiling throughout the entire interview. “I listen to a little bit of everything, I like pretty much all music.” 

What Eddie had expected from that was mostly pop, maybe a classic rock hit here and there. Judging by the ripped jeans and Doc Martens you were wearing the day of your interview, he suspected there may have been an emo/alt rock phase in your history so maybe some Paramore or MCR. 

What he hadn’t been expecting was the fact that when you said you liked all music, you meant all music. 

A month into working with you, and he already dreaded the days that you’d signed your name on the list entitled “Aux Cord Dibs” that sat on a tattered clipboard under the counter. The first hour of your shuffled liked songs on Spotify, and Eddie already had whiplash. 

The songs that played (in order) were:

Satisfied- The Broadway Cast of Hamilton

Raise Hell- Brandi Carlile

The Offering- Sleep Token

Magical- Ed Sheeran

Dream a Little Dream of Me- Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

Just to name a few.

Not only were you completely unashamed that the first song to pop up under your aux cord time was a fucking show tune, but you knew every word. You sang, rapped- acted- every word. 

Eddie was now absolutely sure that you had had an emo phase, because this meant you were also a theater kid (same as him, but he wasn’t about to admit that to you) and in Eddie’s experience, most theater kids were also emo kids in some way, shape, or form.

“How much coffee did you drink this morning?” he’d muttered once you’d finished your one-woman show whilst shelving new records. 

“No coffee, this is all natural.” You’d said that with a grin so wide, it was obvious to him that you knew how obnoxious that sounded and you were taking it in stride. 

“You’re just the Energizer bunny… naturally?” 

Somehow, you grinned wider. “Yes!”

You can imagine how terrified Eddie was when you pulled a Celcius out of your bag an hour later. What happens when you give an energy drink to a person with natural energy?

You get impromptu dance breaks. 

Eddie had been boxing up an online order when out of the corner of his eye, he saw your oversized sweatered form bouncing around between aisles to the beat of whatever K-Pop bullshit was currently assaulting his speakers. 

Wordlessly, his eyes drifted to the monitor displaying the security camera feed where he found a full view of your hopping, stepping, and jumping to the bouncy rhythm of a Korean song with random English words sprinkled in. The grainy feed from the camera even picked up the subtle motion of your lips moving, and Eddie’s lips couldn’t help but twist into an amused little smile when he realized that must mean you were even trying to lip sync to the words, and he might be wrong but he was pretty sure you didn’t speak Korean.

His shoulders shook, silently chuckling at your antics until the music slowed down in tempo. Your hips began to move in slow, pronounced circles, sending the rest of your body rolling with the momentum. Eddie knew you didn’t mean to turn him on with the way your hips were moving… but you had an ass that shook when you walked, much less when you were actually wiggling your hips around. It wasn’t a you problem that was making Eddie’s eyes bug out of his skull and glue themselves to the screen; it was definitely an Eddie problem.

He had to keep it professional; Eddie was a shift manager, and while he wasn’t technically your boss, that was a gray area delicate enough that he didn’t plan on rushing into anything risky. The last thing he should be doing was ogling you on the security camera like a fucking creep. So, he made a point to pay attention to literally anything else whenever you started dancing around the store like some sort of coked-up cheerleader.

After a few shifts with Eddie, you started to notice that he was pointedly ignoring your antics- which made forcing him to pay attention all the more entertaining. The job could be boring on slow days, so this was how you entertained yourself- annoying the shit out of Eddie Munson.

Eddie: “If I hear one more show tune, I’m commandeering the aux cord.”

You: Proceeds to belt all three parts of Sincerely Me from Dear Evan Hansen, complete with choreography.

Eddie: “Is there any metal on this playlist? Just one song? I need a breather…”

You: Introduces Eddie to Babymetal.

One day, you even forced Eddie to suffer through Lizzo. That was funny as all hell, if you’d ever seen it. 

“I feel like I’m walking through a Forever 21.” He’d grumbled as you cheekily shimmied your shoulders at him and mimed a toss of your hair for good measure. 

“First of all,” you laughed, “I’m impressed you know what Forever 21 is.”

“I have been to a mall, you know.”

“Second,” you continued, “You’re starting to come off as a bit of a music elitist.”

Eddie shook his head, shelving new records from the stack of crates on the floor. “It isn’t a crime to know what I like and don’t like, kid.”

You smirked, reaching wordlessly over to the media center behind the counter and turning up the music. It was empty in the store save for you and Eddie, so the change in volume wouldn’t hurt anyone. Lizzo’s Like a Girl rang out through the speakers, and you made a show of losing yourself to the beat just to spite the metalhead before you. 

Eddie sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if God himself could save him from this torment; he couldn’t stop the whisper of a smile from creeping into the corners of his lips. “What did I do to deserve this shit?” he groaned.

Your grin was blazing, infectious in the way you wore it with reckless abandon as you danced from shelf to shelf with one of the crates of records. When the crate was empty, each album carefully nestled in its appropriate place, you set the crate down on the floor right as the chorus started and your hips shook in time with the drop of the beat. 

Eddie had been looking out the corner of his eye the whole time, but averted his gaze immediately once you were shaking your ass in the air. Unbeknownst to you, he was doing everything in his power not to stare.

Bouncing as you perked back up, you flashed him a sadistic grin and shrugged. “You just make it so much fun to torture you, sorry.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, “That was the emptiest apology I’ve ever heard.” To which you laughed and heartily agreed, launching your whole self into shaking all you had to the beat, even going so far as to plant your foot on the edge of the counter. 

You looked more silly than sexy, even Eddie could admit that, but it was your reckless abandon and giant fucking smile that made him break in that moment. You were shaking your ass- was that twerking? Eddie didn’t think it was twerking, but then again, he wasn’t an expert- and singing along to the music with so much energy that Eddie’s smile finally won his face over. He nodded his head to the beat, even shimmied his shoulders a little, and watched you make an adorable fool of yourself. 

That was when the door opened, sending a chime through the shop as a very confused Steve and Robin walked through the door just in time to see you shaking your ass in their direction. 

As far as you knew, these two were customers, so you swiftly tore your foot from the counter and started to apologize before Steve cut you off with a lopsided grin and a midair brush of his hand. 

“Please don’t apologize, because that might be the best first impression you could’ve made on me.” He confidently strode forward, already extending a hand which you happily accepted. Steve had a way of putting people at ease, Eddie had noticed, even if they had been the opposite of “at ease” before he’d entered the scene. 

He watched straight-faced as Steve struck up a conversation with you about being friends with Eddie and stopping by to say hello, then proceeded to introduce himself and ask you about yourself with the confidence and coolness that came so easily to people like Steve Harrington. Eddie chewed his lip and felt an unwelcome flare of jealousy in his stomach when you gave Steve the same smile that- up until now- you’d been giving him. 

 “So that’s the new hire you told us about?” Robin asked, voice low enough that only Eddie could hear.

He nodded, eyes trained on Steve as he said some joke that made you laugh. “Yeeeeeuup.” Eddie drew out the word, lacing passive aggression into every extra syllable. 

“I see.” Robin looked at Eddie, arching an eyebrow as she wordlessly assessed him, then slowly looked at you and smiled knowingly. “Well, if you’re gonna make a move, better beat Steve to it.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head, murmuring out the corner of his mouth “Stay. Out of it.”  before picking up his crate of records and moving to a different shelf. You were out of sight, but your and Steve’s voices still carried to where he worked. 

“...a little bit of everything.” Eddie heard you say, picking up on your conversation as he silently shelved new inventory. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Nothing in particular, I just jam to whatever’s on the radio.” Already inwardly cringing at how Steve must be shrugging or tossing his hair or some shit, Eddie eavesdropped inconspicuously. “Compared to a seasoned listener like yourself, I must sound like an idiot. You should make a playlist for me, so I can know what an expert would recommend.” 

“Expert?” you snorted, “Oh I’m hardly an expert. Half of what I listen to is garbage, but it’s fun garbage so I’m not ashamed. Eddie’s the expert.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if you knew he was nearby enough to hear you, but he wasn’t about to miss out on whatever you were about to say about him, so he remained silent and out of sight. 

Harrington scoffed. “Expert on metal, sure, but unless you’re into headbanging and screaming, I think he’d be pretty lost-”

“Not true.” you interjected. “He likes some classic rock, a bit of old school jazz- you know I played a song by Bob Dylan one day, and he started rattling off all these facts about the guy?” 

Eddie remembered that day. He’d almost told you that he knew all those facts because his mom had loved Bob Dylan, but he thought talking about his dead mom might be a little more personal than you were prepared to get with him so early into knowing him. 

“When Eddie hears music he thinks is good, it doesn’t matter what genre it is- he respects it whether it’s his taste or not.” Eddie had long since stopped shelving; he stood stock still, listening with wide eyes as you spoke with more admiration in your voice than Eddie had ever expected to belong to him. “I play a crazy wide range of music when I work with him, and every time a song I really love comes on it’s hard for me to not focus on how he’s reacting to it. It’s like every time, I’m in my head like- will he like this one?”

Steve was quiet for a moment before Eddie heard him reply, “Sounds like you’re hoping you’ll impress him.” 

Eddie felt his heart start beating a little faster. Were you?

You giggled a little, and for a moment Eddie’s heart fell when he thought you were laughing at the very insinuation that you might want to impress him.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” he heard  you say. “I haven’t known Eddie long, but I’ve always thought he’s an impressive person. It’s hard not to want to impress him back.”

Eddie couldn’t suppress his smile even if he’d wanted to. Sneaking around the shelves where you couldn’t see him, he turned a corner to continue his work as he hummed to himself.

After you’d locked the doors at 8, the two of you were closing down the shop alone as your playlist quietly painted the quiet evening air. You were walking through the store doing your final check while Eddie took inventory, and Eddie had been silently nodding his head to the beat of the music as you came into view of the checkout counter.

“What song is this?”

Your eyes widened, and the eagerness in your gaze made Eddie’s heart just about burst. 

“Uh, it’s Chicken by Your Neighbors.” you stuttered, “You like it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, softly, “it’s good.”

There was that blinding grin again, contagious in how it fed his until it doubled in size. “Yeah, it is.” 

A pause settled between the two of you, song lyrics potent in the evening’s silence. 

You ain’t got no time to wait

You don’t get what you don’t ask for

“Hey, uhh…” Eddie was quick to grab your attention, and you watched him wide-eyed and expectant. “...feel like getting pizza after this? Surfer Boy doesn’t close ‘til midnight, and I was gonna stop by to see my buddy Argyle after closing anyway, so-”

“Yes!” you agreed, a little more eagerly than you had originally intended to come across. You cleared your throat, “I mean, if it’s no trouble-”

“No trouble at all, it's just down the street, I’ll walk with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were both grinning like idiots, but neither of you seemed to care. You continued your closing duties, both of you nodding your heads to the beat of the music and enjoying the feelings that, though unspoken and undefined, were currently nestling comfortably into your chest and his. 

Taglist: (really just people I have been talking about this to, I hope you like it❤️) @the-unforgivenn, @vintagehellfire, @munson-blurbs, @hellfire--cult, @word-wytch

[eddies-house]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Two - Dainty

W/C: 4.6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

You need a job, The Bourbon needs a server. The math is there but the owner won't acknowledge it. How will you win over such a crabby man that only sees you as a gnat forcing its way into his space?

A/N: The response I received on the first part fic was so unexpected but I'm so glad everyone liked it!! I can't wait to get deeper into this story

Masterlist

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I’m sorry for running out so fast yesterday.

No.  Too forward.

I think we got off on the wrong foot, by we I mean me.

No, not sincere enough.

I just wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly—

“Excuse me, dear?”

Your train of thought was dissolved within seconds as you turned your focus to the older gentleman that had called for your attention.  A hum in place of an answer as your brows raised expectantly but ever so friendly awaited his follow up question.

“Can I just squeeze past you to grab that jar of peaches?”  He asks, wrinkles around his eyes upturned in perfect harmony with his smile.

“Of course.  Yes!”  Panicked, you rush to the other side of the aisle, the older man waving you off, insisting that it was ‘quite alright’ while he reached for his beloved peaches.

You’d been bouncing back and forth, up and down between several opening statements to provide Donnie, a sour taste left in your own mouth at the way you left her hanging the day before when she was merely being kind to you.  It was something you couldn’t stop, the anxiety eating away at your flesh like bacteria from the fact that you could’ve caused someone to be less than satisfied with their interaction with you, as if you were some kind of service.  People pleasing was a disease.

Sometimes the affected party was blind to its symptoms, oblivious to the way their illness consumed them.  And that’s why you found yourself purchasing a single pack of gum, eyes large and sorrowful before you were even next in line.  Various ways to get the point across were mentally rehearsed and the closer you got to the register, the more you focused on one singular sentence, clinging onto the desire to not stutter or mess it up.  

“Hey you’re back!”  Donnie greets.  “Thought for sure we’d scare you off by now.”

With a wince, you hand her your pathetic excuse of a conversation starter, a pack of spearmint gum with your trembling hand.  If she notices she doesn’t bring attention to it, instead she gracefully takes the pack and rings you up. 

“N-no, no.  I don’t scare that easily.”  You try to convince yourself more than her.

You note that the shop is nearly empty once again just after a handful of customers had done their shopping and went on with their day.  A few patrons still linger, carefully picking out each item from their weekly grocery list; however, you wouldn’t know they were there if not for the squeak of their carts every few feet as they inched forward.

“Could’ve fooled me.”  Donnie respectfully hands back the gum in exchange for your cash.  A crinkled five that had seen better days.

For a moment you debate fleeing once again, nerves tingling and breathing becoming shallow before internally reprimanding yourself.  You can cry all you damn well please in private but right now you need to stand up to the little voice in your head.  “Yeah.  Um, I just–I wanted to say I’m sorry for running out so suddenly like that.”  It didn’t come out as smooth as you’d planned but you’re hoping it came across as sincere enough.  If you could at least look forward to a friendly face at the supermarket every week, well it would be a win.

“Honey, I don’t get offended easily and it seemed like you had places to be.”  She waves a dismissive hand in the air at your apology, not unkindly, more so letting you know you didn’t need to be so formal with her.  And yet you couldn’t help yourself, an unwanted backstory spilling from your lips almost like second nature.  Excuses plucked from the top of your brain.

“I didn’t–I didn’t mean to leave and just not introduce myself.  I just got caught up, with moving and all–”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.  Just your name and we’ll call it good.”  A genuine smile stretches across her face, contagious enough that your lips tug upward as well as you offer your name, a proper introduction this time.

Your shoulders relax ever so slightly, not fully letting your guard down but no longer feeling the need to tense every muscle in your body.  It’s then that you realize that this is the only grocery store that you ever found visually appealing, with its darker toned walls and red checkered floors, the lighting not being so fluorescent and in your face, a bit dim even.  Which for some may be a flaw but for you it was perfect.  You don’t feel so exposed and couldn't be perceived so clearly, the ideal cocktail of a situation for someone so socially anxious.

“I, um, I saw your sign.”  You gesture to the letters reading ‘help wanted’ posted against the window.  If you could land a decent job then maybe living wouldn’t feel so terrifying.  Then again, several things would come into factor other than just your means of income.  

Donnie’s expression turns empathetic and you can feel your breath hitch in anticipation for a brutal rejection.  To be told that you had it all wrong, that you were too unprofessional and too meek and that your help was most definitely not wanted here, that you shouldn’t have even stepped foot in this town to begin with.  The five stages of grief practically take over in mourning over the loss of a potential job.

“I’m real sorry but we already filled the position.  Tom was supposed to take that down around two weeks ago.”  She sounds irritated at the mention of what you assumed to be her coworker.  “Can’t rely on anyone.”  She sighs, striding over to the window and pulling the sign from its temporary home only to abandon it behind the shelf that displayed several boxes of cigarettes.  

“Oh I’m–”

Before you can even begin to apologize for something completely out of your control, Donnie’s eyes light up at something, or rather, someone behind you.

“Hey, Ed!  Isn’t The Bourbon hiring?”

All she receives in return is silence and when you dare to peek over your shoulder behind you, you briefly meet the eyes of the neighbor you had the displeasure of running into twice the day before.  Today he fronts with a black leather jacket and the same black jeans with rips in the knees.  The only thing noticeably different is the chain now dangling at his side and the band shirt you’re unable to read, the letters obscured from your view.  Oh, and a few chunky rings decorating his hand that should make him look tacky as hell but somehow they pull the look together.  

“I dunno, who’s asking?”  He counters, brow raised as he glances at you once more.  You’d barely even spoken a few words to the guy and he was acting as if you committed the most heinous act against him.

“Ed.”  Donnie warns.

“Don, she wouldn’t last a day.”

You were beginning to think that this so-called ‘Ed’ was going to turn into an issue…fast.  Who was he to judge a stranger who he knew absolutely nothing about.  His audacity startled you and while you should step in and defend yourself, you can’t bring yourself to do it, tongue tied in every literal sense, words caught in the back of your throat like they were physical refrigerator magnets lodged in place.

“You don’t know that!”  She grins at him, a grin that silently says ‘watch it’.  “Honey, you got any work experience?”  Attention shifting to you, you felt as if you were burdening two people who had everything figured out in their quaint little lives, guilt plaguing your mind at the fact that you’d shaken things up between what seemed to be good friends or maybe even just well acquainted individuals.

“I–uh–yes.  Yes, I’ve worked at the–at the library and-and–”

“The library?”  Ed questions.  You didn’t dare answer, knowing very well he wasn’t seeking a response.  “What good would that do me in a bar?”

“Well I–”

“Think The Bourbon’s too rowdy for someone like you.”  He continues, only fueling your inner rage as well as pricking the embarrassment that held a permanent home within you, your cheeks flushing hot and palms becoming clammy.

“I’ve also worked at a diner.  Back home.”  Somehow you find a voice, one that isn’t shaky and timid but rather more calm and collected regardless of the absolute fear that pounded in your heart.  

Both Donnie and Ed stare, seconds passing that only feel like lightyears.  Ed still seems bored beyond comprehension, opening and shutting his wallet as he narrows his big brown eyes.  You aren’t sure what to do next, if you should make a dramatic exit once again or continue proving yourself to some stranger who had no business even making you do such a thing in the first place.

“A diner.”  

He says it like a statement rather than a question, as if to mock and discredit you.  

Tears are not an option, tears are not an option.  

“See she’s got experience!”  Donnie attempts to mend the situation, acting as an unofficial moderator.

“Don, no offense but I came here to buy the usual, not recruit.”  Some cash is slapped onto the counter, his patience clearly wearing thin by the way he begs with his eyes.  Donnie’s tolerance appears to be at a dangerously low level based on the glare she forces upon him.  You were beyond unprepared to witness a standoff in the middle of the supermarket at 5:00 PM on a Wednesday.

“Thought you were desperate for a server.”

There’s some bite behind her words, focus never wavering, the two seeming to have a telepathic conversation right before your eyes until Ed breaks the stillness in the air.

“Not in the slightest.  Can I have my shit now?”

Donnie’s sigh lets you know Ed has won and in the process, drained her energy.  Reluctantly, she snatches the cash from the counter and opens the register before grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the shelf behind her and handing them to him along with his change, an unfriendly exchange.  It doesn’t seem to bother him as he clutches the cash and the pack in his hand, not even sparing you another glance on his way out.

Clearing your throat, you pull Donnie’s attention away from the insufferable man now making his way down the cobblestone sidewalk outside.  “It’s okay.  I’m sure other places are hiring.”  

She rolls her eyes and you know it’s not meant for you but you can’t shake the paranoia that screams that she might be fed up with you as well.  “Don’t mind Eddie.  He acts like a hardass but he’ll come around.”

So his name is Eddie.  You only nod in response, unsure of where to steer the conversation from here.

“He’s like a scary dog.  He’ll roll over for the right people.  So if he doesn’t take to you, don’t take it personally.”  She advises.

“Yeah.”  You whisper.  

You were so going to take it personally.

–

As it turns out, no one in Knife’s Edge was hiring, not a single soul seeking a random girl from out of town who urgently needed a job.  Not that you could blame them, they had it all figured out.  Many of the shops were owned by families thus being run by said families and not requiring the additional expense that would come with hiring another person.  And those that did seem to hire outside of their family had already filled in every necessary position.  

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.  This is what you get for uprooting your life and sticking it somewhere it probably didn’t belong.

And now you were moping along the cobblestone, trying to figure out how to pay the bills, working out how much of your savings you could survive off of until you’d run out.  Then The Bourbon came into view.  Almost like it wanted you to see it, the beaming red lights spelling out its name specifically for you to see.  Mainly because it was the only place you knew to be hiring despite what Ed–or–Eddie–whatever his name was, had said in his unpleasant remarks from earlier.  It seemed to be your only shot at employment.

The bar had a few neon signs flashing in the window, one being the very obvious ‘open’ sign and then of course one that read ‘happy hour’ with a margarita.  The rest appeared to be different beers they might have on tap.  It didn’t look like anything fancy but didn’t seem like a hole in the wall either.  The exterior was paneled in wood just like almost every other building in the area, giving it a cabin feel without actually being a cabin.

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach from just staring at the place so if you were going to act, it needed to be now, before said dread morphed into pure panic.  This was going to determine your foreseeable future, if you couldn’t land this job then you might as well toss yourself right back down that mountain with no money and no plan, right back to square one.

The door was heavy, built out of metal and a bell ringing just above, notifying any staff and patrons of your presence which you could do without but you had to push yourself.  If they were staring, your gaze was glued to the ground and you didn’t notice, too occupied in rehearsing an improvised script in your head.  Some kind of rock or metal song blasted through the bar and you weren’t sure if it was overstimulating or comforting.  Your initial thought was that for being in a small town, they would be inclined to play country music so it only relieved you that your possible future workplace wouldn’t be subjecting you to the unbearable twang you just couldn’t seem to stand.  You’d endure it when all was said and done but it was appreciated that it was one less nuisance in your life.

It was a standard bar, the atmosphere mellow with dull lighting and a haziness smelling of tobacco swirling throughout the room.  What immediately drew you in was the obvious game of bingo, suddenly shifting what was a designated spot for happy hour and a cheap therapy session with the bartender into a retirement home full of seniors.  A man that looked to be in his fifties sat on a stool on the tiny stage in the corner, calling out numbers, which elicited a few victory yells from those who had obviously been having better luck.  

However odd the scene may be, several senior citizens occupying the tables of a bar at happy hour, business still seemed to be booming considering that it was a weekday.  Aside from the group of elderly yet energetic individuals, there were also what looked to be the regulars perched on their assigned stools at the actual bar.  They paid no mind to the intense game happening behind them, sipping away at their beers and mixed drinks leisurely.

A vacant seat called to you, two more on each side guaranteeing that you could sit comfortably without awkwardly scooting in next to someone and disturbing their possible winding down time, no doubt trying to blow off some steam after work.  That’s why people came to bars, right?  It was lost on you, this wasn’t your scene and if you’re truthful, you’re not even sure you should be here begging for a job in the first place.  That Ed guy clearly didn’t take a liking to you and though you didn’t exactly have any knowledge on his role within The Bourbon, he seemed like he had a say in the day to day operations just based on the tiny snippets of information you picked up on.  Hopefully someone with the same level of authority would be working now and actually respect you as a person enough to at least give you a chance.  

Playing it cool—as cool as one could be with constant nagging thoughts and shot nerves, you decide to plant yourself down on the stool, the worn leather material partially squeaking in protest as you wiggle into a comfortable enough position, setting your bag in your lap and clutching it in paranoia.  A glance from the left to the right and back to the left lets you know that no one seems to mind your presence though you still close in on yourself regardless, taking up the least amount of space possible.

The bartender, a man maybe in his early twenties who had short dark hair seems preoccupied as he shakes a drink while balancing a conversation with another man at the end of the bar, the two laughing every other sentence like old friends.  And so you wait.  Never intentionally draw attention to yourself and never disturb anyone else’s night until you find it polite to chime in when the bartender doesn’t seem as busy.  Even then, he doesn’t hear your small ‘excuse me’ every time he rushes by onto his next task.

A sad little ghost settled among lively customers, you don’t seek pity, only a glance your way so that you could get this over with and either face rejection or anxiously resume the job search.  Though no one seems to bother looking your way, you can’t help the heat traveling to your cheeks in pure humiliation, the fact that you’re the only thing out of place weighing heavily on your mind.  More celebratory howls and yells sound from behind you, the room erupting into laughter shortly after from a joke you didn’t care to understand.  Even a few select chuckles are heard from the men scattered along the bar.

“Do you just not listen?”

A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts, forcing you to peek up from where your focus remained on the bartop, where moments before you’d seemed entranced by the surface.  In reality you were running in circles in your head, hoping to make sense of your current situation.  Through your lashes you saw him.  Ed.  Or Eddie.  You didn’t put much effort into feeling too bad for not remembering his actual name, especially when he’d never even had the decency to ask for yours.  His leather jacket was absent from his torso, now only showing off a plain black t-shirt that also allowed you a view of various tattoos scattered along his arms.  You were first drawn to the faded bats on his forearm before becoming puzzled by what seemed to be some kind of a doodle on his inner bicep, not a very good one at that.  And then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“I’m not allowed to have a drink?”  You ask innocently.  Genuine innocence.  No sarcasm.  You weren’t brave enough for that.

“Only if you’re not here to also beg for a job.”  He grumbles.  A man a few stools over gestures down for another round and in response, Eddie nods coolly.  With a certain kind of smoothness, he pulls a new glass out before slamming it down on the counter.  “If you are, the answer is still no.”  The way he quickly pours liquor into the shaker seems so effortless, measurements probably burned into his brain that allow for more efficiency on busy nights.

“Can I at least speak to someone in charge?”  You do your best to keep your voice steady and unwavering in the presence of someone with infinitely more confidence than you, his eye contact never breaking.

“You’re lookin’ at him, doll.”

His voice drips with his signature condescending tone, the corner of his mouth pulled up slightly in a smirk.  One that tells you that you’ve hit a dead end. 

“You—oh.”  Like an idiot, you swallowed any words that bubbled in your throat, unable to find it within yourself to at least come up with a snarky comeback.

“We’re not hiring.”

“That-that’s not what Donnie said.”  Lousy.  The argument just seemed to fall from your tongue involuntarily, not much thought put behind it before coming to fruition.  It would only give him more ammo.

His eyes further surveyed you, meticulously analyzing your every move, every twitch of every muscle in your face.  An unwanted spotlight shining on you, revealing every flaw in your approach to the current conversation.  You wanted a job and he wanted nothing to do with you, your last statement only sealing your fate, only giving him more reason to deny your advances.

“Donnie doesn’t work here does she?”  Without expression, he begins expertly shaking his concoction, forearms flexing with the movement.  He was a character, some kind of figment of your imagination.  He had to be.  You’d never encountered someone so standoffish, so ill-tempered, especially toward someone he’d never even met before, already passing judgment on you based on seconds of interaction.

Ignoring his rhetorical question, which came off as more of a deterrent than anything, you pursue a fair conversation, a deserving interview at the very least.  “Listen, I’m a really hard worker and—“

“And a fast learner right?”

The interruption was unwelcomed though you gave no indication that it was, face set in a straight expression as you processed his uncivil personality.  You couldn’t even find it in you to convey shock, your brain malfunctioning upon his words, outdoing himself with every sentence he uttered.

“Well, yes.”

“Of course.  And you can multitask too I bet?”

This wasn’t the interview you were hoping for, this was downright degrading.

“If you would just let me talk.”  You plead, fingers digging into the wood of the bartop.

“Listen, kid.”  The liquid he had been shaking for quite some time is poured into the glass, an amber colored liquor filled to the brim.

Kid?  

If you had the guts you would degrade him right back.  But you were you and you could only sit and take each hit to your fragile mental state with as much grace as possible.  And soon after the tears would come.  Not yet, though.  Not just yet.

“You look like you’re about to cry and you haven’t even been hired.  What makes you think you can handle a full house on a Friday night?”  The drink is topped off with an orange twist and a black cherry before he slides it to its awaiting consumer, not a drop spilling over the edge of the glass, clearly a perfected craft that he was proud of.

When he’s met with silence you gather that he thinks he’s won just by the smug look on his face, barely there but still evident nonetheless.  That little voice inside your head screams at you to keep pushing, keep bugging him until he has to give in.  Even if by pure annoyance.  And although you can feel yourself trembling in terror, something urges you to just gulp down the fear and prod at the arrogant man just beyond the bar.

“I work well under pressure, I’m very organized, I’ll clean on my down time…”  You begin to list off your abilities and if he wanted to stop listening, the way he glared at you wasn’t convincing you that he was going to.

This time his response is delayed rather than the other way around, suddenly at a loss for words as his large eyes take in your sudden change in demeanor.  Your slight assertiveness takes him by surprise, you can tell from his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.  It’s all a front for you to at least get one foot in the door but as they say, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

“No.”  He answers suddenly, sternly.  His disinterest is obvious when he pulls out a rag and starts wiping down the counter, no longer letting his gaze fall on you but instead, the droplets he works vigorously to clean up.

If he wants a fight, then a fight he shall receive. 

“I’m a team player, I’m super reliable, my time is flexible, if you need me in a pinch consider it done–”

“Do you understand social cues?”  

Ouch.  If you had an inflated ego it would’ve surely been destroyed by now but you were already working with close to nothing.

“Yes.”  You reply, not a trace of sarcasm, only an honest answer.

“So I think by now you’d understand.  We.  Are.  Not.  Hiring.”  Each word is enunciated and slathered thickly with bitterness, topped with the intention to send you running like a dog with its tail tucked in between its legs.  

What he doesn’t know is that your soft spoken voice and bashful exterior isn’t all there is to you and that deep down, if you wanted something, you were stubborn and able to manipulate the situation should it be required in the most dire of situations.  Whether it would work on him seeing as he was also just as stubborn, if not more, you weren’t sure yet.

“Are you turning me away because I’m a woman?”  

The pure horror in his eyes almost makes you chuckle because now you know you have the upper hand and had anyone overheard, they would probably question their beloved local bartender’s work ethic.  

“I mean–not that I’m accusing you…”  You were definitely accusing.  “I just don’t see any other women working and–”

It doesn’t have the effect you’re hoping for as he leans toward you, forearms resting on the bar, his eyes returning back to their spiteful nature while he taps his clunky rings against the surface in thought.

“I’m turning you away because you don’t belong in a place like this.  Things can get rough and you’re…too dainty.”  His voice is much more hushed than before but his expression remains serious, without a trace of that stupid smirk.

Dainty?  Dainty.  Noted.

“What–you don’t think a woman can handle–”

“It’s not about you being a woman.”  He seethes.  “It’s about the fact that you are dainty.  Polite.  Shy.  I can’t have that when I’ve got a few drunks refusing to leave at 2:00 AM.”  

“I know when to hold my own.  Especially if it's for a job.”  You attempt to convince him.

“What, so you’re just gonna respectfully tell them to leave, then what?  These guys get out of hand, I can’t be babysitting you, I’ve got a business to run.”  He reasons, straightening his posture, conversation already forgotten as he starts to turn away before you speak up again.

“At least let me prove you wrong before you dismiss me.”  You quietly demand, hands clasped in front of you.  “Think I can handle a group of senior citizens.”  You motion to the intense bingo game still going strong behind you.  

With a roll of his eyes, he seems to ponder his thoughts, bouncing them around in his head.  An exasperated sigh escapes his parted lips while a hand drags down his tired face.  

“One night.  A trial.  If you can handle it, fine.  You’ve got a job.”  He finally declares.  “But if I have to stop what I’m doing to babysit you or you so much as–”

“I’ll find another job.  Promise.”  You nod persuasively, a glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t miss but quickly ignores.

“Good.  Tomorrow night.  Eight.  And just this one time you can park in the back lot.”

He tries to dismiss himself again but your next question forces him to linger a little bit longer.  He was patient, you’d give him that.

“Wait–what, what’s the dress code?”  You ask sheepishly, a contrast to the business woman you’d molded into just seconds before.

He does a once over, as if to judge your fashion choices but what he ends the conversation with only leads you to think that he favors one word way too much.  

“Casual.  Nothing too dainty.”

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel

[florallylly]

eddie munson losing a corroded coffin or hellfire shirt at school one day, and steve harrington being so tired after basketball practice that when he can't find his shirt (maybe hargrove has stooped to juvenile tricks), he just grabs something random from the lost and found. it's not like he's going to be wearing it for long.

but as gross as it is, it does fit rather comfortably. and maybe steve washes the shirt afterwards, finding it folded in the back of his drawer a month later. he shrugs it on, the fabric soft and worn with use, and deems it his new pajama shirt.

and then one day eddie munson happens to see steve in the morning, sleepy and a little bit grumpy. eddie has to do a double take bc not only is steve like a cat waking up, but he's also IN HIS SHIRT. looking like some type of groupie or a member of hellfire

he self combusts. steve is too tired to deal with it and falls asleep at the table.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Grumpy Eddie, Sunshine Reader

💖

Eddie couldn't help staring at you, anytime you were in his vicinity he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

This was no good. Eddie didn't need to be distracted and especially not by you. You were literal sunshine and Eddie couldn't help but notice you all the time.

There was always a smile on your face, you were always happy and smiling, upbeat.

Usually, Eddie found this type of shit annoying but with you he found it endearing.

Right now he was meant to be knee deep in a campaign but when he wasn't furiously scribbling down notes for it (weaving an intricate tale that would blow the Hellfire members minds) he was drawn to you.

Gareth sniggers as he catches Eddie's eye and is about to tease him for his obvious crush on you, not that Eddie had admitted it yet but it was common knowledge to everyone.

Everyone even Jason knew that Eddie was a goner for you, well all except Eddie himself. You were the only one wasn't on his list of the shit that was wrong with Hawkins.

You were the only one who could tease a smile out of Eddie when he was in a mood, who didn't have to fear the wrath of Eddie the Banished when you talked to him if he was grumpy.

Unbeknownst to everyone else you were the one who made Eddie's heart skip a beat and his day a little bit brighter. One word from you would quell his annoyances and calm the chaos of his mind.

One look from Eddie quietens whatever Gareth was about to say and then he hears you shriek and he almosts upends his chair thinking you were in trouble.

Eddie was no hero- as much as he portrayed in Hellfire that he was - but for you he would be.

He acesses the cafeteria for the threat to you and finds none, just you with a pout on your face, your lunch tray on the ground.

You tripped. Eddie's racing heart calms as he sits back down and your eyes meet his, there's a sheepish grin on your face.

That little smile pratically melts his usual cynical heart and he swears under his breath.

Fuck, you really were trouble, he's sure you'd be the death of him and that realisation is met with another one that he's very much in love with you.

...

[inlovewithrain]

ok i understand the hype of sunshine!eddie and grumpy!steve, but like ur telling me that this man is grumpy?

no. give me grumpy!eddie and sunshine!steve.

steve would a literal ray of sunshine that makes everyone laugh and smile and cheers everyone up while eddie just sits there pouting and pessimistic

[pizzaqueen]

Eddie grumpily pining after Steve is just so good. Like him just being so annoyed about his gigantic crush, liking Steve so much and being so mad about it. But he loves having the crush, too, which makes him madder. It gets me every time!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 3

of  this post /  Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn’t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve. 

Chapter 4

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