#and argyle is who knows where
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the thought of a stranger things season five is insane btw. like. how is that shit still going
#for a brief second i was like well maybe i could suffer through it for max and chrissy scenes#them it hit me. chrissys fucking dead#and max was like. basically brain dead#and billy's apparently dead#and argyle is who knows where#and the thought of having to sit through the steeve and robiin show makes me wanna choke#also the thought of watching nancy do whatever she's gotta do with jonathan and steve.......... it's a No from me#sorry to be a negative lil dickhead about the show i run a blog about. promise i'll shut up#but its INSANE that it's literally still going like. they're really dragging that dead body through the mud huh
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gay bar (steddie)
“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”
Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar.
“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.
The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“
As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”
It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!
Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.
Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”
“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”
“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”
Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”
He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos.
Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”
What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”
“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?
Eh. Doesn’t matter.
“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”
He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”
“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”
“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”
“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”
He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”
“Which one?”
“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”
“How do you even know about that?”
Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”
“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”
He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt.
Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then.
Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole.
“That can’t be right.”
“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out.
“You were Prom King.”
“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh.
Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”
Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”
Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?
Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks.
“What?”
“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.”
Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve.
No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time.
He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country.
He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here.
“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”
What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”
Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”
Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”
“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn.
Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears.
“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”
He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken.
He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening.
“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”
“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”
“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone.
Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”
“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”
Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”
“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”
“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”
“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”
Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“Well, yeah. Duh.”
“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”
“Oh, so you’d call him because…”
“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”
“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”
“…Steve?”
“Yeah!”
“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”
“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him.
“Are you drunk?”
“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone.
“I just talked to you yesterday.”
Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, Steve.”
“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”
“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”
“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”
“Munson?”
“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”
“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”
“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs.
“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”
“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”
“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone.
“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“
“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt.
“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”
“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”
“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters.
“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”
“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”
“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”
“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car?
“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho. And that was before the melted flesh monster.”
Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”
Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”
“Didn’t he die?”
“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”
“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”
Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”
“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”
Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute.
“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is.
“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“
“That was him?”
“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”
“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”
“Don’t kill me,” Steve says.
“Oh, god, did you punch him?”
“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”
He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums.
“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”
“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”
“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”
“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish.
“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”
“Dude.”
Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham.
“Well, Harrington?”
“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”
Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.
He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.
He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.
“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else.
“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.
“Ugh. Who would want that?”
Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“
“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”
Eddie turns beet red in record time.
“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”
“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”
“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”
Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again.
Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles.
“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”
Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”
“The what?”
Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”
“…oops.”
“When?” Eddie demands.
Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”
Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut.
Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”
Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest.
Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”
Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”
“Steve!”
“You do!”
“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”
His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses.
“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”
“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”
“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”
“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”
“I do?”
“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees.
Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink.
“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”
“You could leave.”
She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.
“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”
“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before.
Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt.
He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips.
Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful.
From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message.
The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out.
The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.
Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.
The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall.
Robin has been similarly affected.
“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”
“We’re not that bad,” he says absently.
“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”
“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”
She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it.
Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them.
“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”
Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock.
“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex.
Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner.
“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity.
“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”
Eddie shakes his head dumbly.
“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!”
With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.
“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”
“I dunno, I think it might be working.”
“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument.
“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”
“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve.
Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“
“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”
Steve stares.
“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”
“I mean, not really.”
“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”
“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”
Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder.
“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”
“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”
“Thought I was fucking you.”
“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”
“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”
“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”
“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.
#gay bar au#steddie#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#featuring robin as the worlds worst wingman#i'm never not going to bully eddie for walking on those tables#'why does everyone here hate me🥺' mf it's bc you keep putting ur nasty ass shoes where people eat#i've said it before and i'll say it again. someone should have yanked on his leg and made him faceplant. he would have deserved it#we stay billy bashing 💪#in this au the byers didn't move to california#jonathan still goes to school there tho#why? bc he and argyle are soulmates and time and space moved for them to make sense next question#i need u to know eddie does not have sex magic and steve isn't actually as smooth as eddie thinks. they r just obsessed with each other#that one person who was in my notes truthing ab a stoncy threesome. i was excited when i saw that bc i had this written hope u see it <3
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In reality, she’s a part of the gyroscope; she’s just another spinning fragment of an asteroid caught in the orbit of the apocalypse, and while Jonathan appreciates the steadiness of Argyle’s presence next to him, he also still feels flutters when he captures Nancy in a certain light, when she has a certain glint in her eyes that makes his stomach twist with delight.
“You okay?” she asks, head tilted to the side.
“Yeah, brochacho–you good?” Argyle adds. He tilts his head almost identically.
Jonathan wants to scream.
if you read the beautifully tender byler fic Come Away With Me by @starsarefire824 and are interested in some Jonathan/Nancy/Argyle (or Jarncy, as I have been affectionately referring to them) nonsense that was implied in literally one line of dialogue, then boy do i have the fic for you!
ft. pizza vans, purple palm tree delight, and Jonathan realizing he’s a lot more like Mike Wheeler than he ever thought he was!
#stranger things fic#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#argyle#jonathan/nancy/argyle#jarncy#or whatever#jargyle#jancy#byler#<- tagging byler because that's mainly who i'm writing for and where most people know me lol#does it help if i mention byler several times??#idk who cares
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Steve looks at Eddie and takes a deep breath. He can ask this. He really can. It's not that big of a deal.
"Hey, Eddie?"
Eddie glances up from the small book he's writing in and raises his eyebrows.
"Can you give me a hickey?"
The book shuts quickly, but, other than that, Eddie remains relatively frozen in place.
Steve shifts to sit up a little straighter against the wall of Eddie's bedroom as he explains, "There’s this girl who keeps coming into Family Video who is really persistent. I've tried to drop hints that I'm not into her, but she isn't getting it. And Robin suggested that I needed to appear to be in a relationship so she would stop."
Actually, Robin had told him that he needs to be direct and reject her, but he didn't want to be cruel. So, he suggested that the two of them should pretend to be in a relationship. But Robin only looked at him in disgust and told him that she would not be taking the fall for his problem.
"Why don't you just reject her?" Eddie asks.
Steve sighs. Why do people keep having to ask him that? "It's not the Family Video way."
Eddie snorts and glances away, pausing for a moment before turning back. "Why me?"
Steve shrugs. "You're the only friend my age that I can ask. It would scar me and Robin for life, and there's no way I'm asking Nancy."
"You know who would do it with no questions asked?" Eddie asks.
"Who?"
"Argyle."
Steve laughs. "Yeah, but I don't really know the guy."
Eddie softly smiles and nudges his shoulder. "So you're saying I make you comfortable?"
Steve looks at him, wondering why he's phrasing it like it's a question. "Yes," he confirms.
For some reason, it seems to fluster Eddie, but he quickly nods and sets down his book. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'll give you a hickey," Eddie says.
Steve swallows and runs a hand through his hair. "Cool. Cool. Uh, I guess we should do that now?"
Eddie nods, but neither of them move.
A few seconds pass before Eddie clears his throat and asks, "So, how are we doing this?"
Steve shrugs. "However you're comfortable with, but you should probably be in front of me."
Eddie nods and says, "Right." Then, he shifts and swings a leg over Steve's lap, straddling him on his bed.
Steve's heart beats a little faster. He hadn't thought this far into his plan, and he certainly hadn't expected Eddie to make him feel this way.
Eddie slowly leans his head down to Steve's neck then sits back, biting his lip in thought but not saying anything.
"What?" Steve asks.
Eddie fidgets with his rings and says, "This will be easier if we're standing up or laying down. Sitting like this is going to hurt my back."
Steve knows that either position is going to kill him, but the thought of his knees buckling while standing up has him deciding, "Well, we're already on the bed, so..."
Eddie nods at him and moves so Steve can lie down.
As he gets comfortable, Eddie climbs on top of him, hovering in a way that must be a damn workout.
Steve laughs, "You don't have to do a plank over me. You can get comfortable."
Eddie blushes a bit then settles his weight over Steve's body. And oh. Yeah, that feels nice.
Steve reaches up to hold Eddie's hair back so he can look at him. And shit, he didn't realize this is an angle he wants to see Eddie at more often.
"You're still okay to do this?" Eddie asks, voice slightly rougher than before.
Steve nods quickly. "Yes."
Eddie nods back and leans down as Steve tilts his jaw to expose the right side of his neck.
Eddie's breath is hot against his neck, mouth hovering but not touching yet. "Where do you want it?"
Steve tries not to sound so strained when he says, "Right under my jaw."
Eddie's lips finally brush against the sensitive area almost like a kiss before he opens his mouth wide and presses his lips firmly against the skin, tongue brushing lightly against him before he begins sucking. Steve's eyes squeeze shut when Eddie's teeth brush slightly against him. He slaps a hand over his mouth and fists his hands into Eddie's sheets.
This was not part of the plan. This was definitely not a part of it.
Soon, Eddie pulls away, and cool air makes contact with the wet spot against his neck as Eddie breathes out.
Steve's hand clamps over his mouth tighter before he opens his eyes, thankful that Eddie is staring at the mark and not at his face. But he's confused about why he's frowning.
Then, Eddie's hand comes up to lightly tilts his jaw back to him, but he still stares at the mark with his brows pinched.
"What's wrong?" Steve asks, a little more breathlessly than he wants to sound.
Eddie finally looks him in the eye and says, "It's...it's good. Like, a solid hickey... but it's right under your jaw like you asked so it's not extremely visible." He crawls off Steve and grabs a small mirror off his side table.
Steve grabs it, trying to ignore how flushed he looks before he stares at the hickey. Eddie's right. It's nice and red, standing out against his skin, but only when he tilts his head just right. Hell, someone could brush it off as a hit to the jaw.
Steve sighs. He doesn't know if he'll be able to survive Eddie giving him another hickey.
"I can give you one on the middle and bottom of your neck if you really want to sell it," Eddie offers.
"Sure," Steve says without thinking. Because shit, if he doesn't think he can survive one more hickey, how the hell is he supposed to survive two??
But Eddie takes the mirror back and is on top of him again before Steve can really think.
Luckily, Eddie looks him in the eye and asks, "Are you sure you're okay with this? We could just put makeup on you to make it look like hickeys."
Against his better judgment, Steve shakes his head and replies, "No, it's okay. I want this to look as realistic as possible. But, hey, are you okay with this?"
Eddie nods quickly and enthusiastically in a way that makes Steve feel like maybe he's not the only one enjoying this a little too much. Honestly, it makes him feel much better... but also knowing that Eddie's into it makes him feel h-
His thoughts are cut off when Eddie's hand fists into his hair and gently pulls to expose his neck more. Without thinking, Steve's hands come up to grip onto Eddie's back tightly as he sucks another hickey into his neck.
Steve pinches his lips together as best as he can, but he's sure his heavy, quick breathing gives him away.
Then, Eddie moves on from his neck to the junction between his neck and shoulder, pulling at his shirt to get better access as he trails his lips over his skin, never losing contact as his wet lips leave a trail connecting the two areas.
But when Eddie starts sucking a mark into his neck again, something about the area sets something off in Steve causing him to moan loudly. He slaps a hand over his mouth again, but the damage is already done.
Only, Eddie doesn't pull away. He sucks harder.
Steve's back arches off the bed, and his hands fist into Eddie's hair pulling him off of him.
Eddie's lips are red and wet with his own saliva and his pupils are blown wide in juxtaposition with the panic filling his eyes.
Steve breathes out, "Please tell me I'm not the only one who wants this."
Eddie shakes his head quickly and rasps out, "Fucking hell I thought you were going to murder me."
"Eddie, the last thing I want to do to you right now is murder you."
He leans down, brushing his nose against Steve's, and whispers, "And what do you want to do to me right now?"
"First, I want to kiss you," Steve confesses, heart hammering in his chest.
Eddie leans down, lips brushing against his as he asks, "And then?"
"I'm thinking something that involves a lot more hickeys."
Eddie smiles. "I like the sound of that."
Finally, they both move together, kissing deeply in a way that makes Steve think that maybe Eddie's lips are magic everywhere.
And shit, he's going to have a hell of a time explaining the hickeys to Robin and the kids, but it'll be worth it.
Now including an Ao3 link :)
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When Eddie is introduced to Jonathan, they both give each other a look that says “if you say anything, you’re dead” and naturally, Nancy clocks it immediately.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” they said at the same time, only growing the suspicion.
“Seriously? Do you know each other already?”
“No!”
“Yes, but-“
They glare at each other, but Eddie speaks up again.
“He bought from me a couple times. No big deal.”
Nancy looks between them, shakes her head. “There’s something else going on. But we’ve got bigger problems.”
And they did.
For months, their problems seemed to get worse by the day. It was a great distraction.
But honestly, anytime Eddie spent more time with Jonathan, it got harder not to say how they actually knew each other: a make out session in a bathroom at a party when Jonathan was yearning for Nancy.
He told Steve eventually, had to with the way he kept finding ways to avoid being around Jonathan and Steve got suspicious.
“If he said something to you about us, I’ll take care of it. He doesn’t get to say shit about what makes us happy.”
And Eddie couldn’t have Steve lose another fight, so he told him.
“So wait. You and Jonathan…”
“Made out. Yes.”
“Like…with tongue?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember tongue being involved.”
“And hands?”
“They were there too.”
Steve puts his hands on his hips, lifts one to wipe over his face, then settles it back on his hip. “And you liked it?”
“Considering at the time my options were Jonathan or the girl in Hellfire who insisted I wasn’t gay because I looked at her during campaigns, yeah. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve been through.”
Steve huffed. “Yeah, but like. Compared to me-“
“Oh my god.”
“What?!”
“I cannot believe you’re jealous of Jonathan Byers. Again.”
“I’m not! I’ve never-“
Eddie raised his brows. “Never? Not once?”
“That was different!”
“That was worse.”
“I dunno, finding out your boyfriend has made out with the only other guy in Hawkins who’d be up for it is arguably worse.”
Steve pouted for hours. Eddie let him.
It was cute, alright?
And when he got over it, they made out for hours in his bed.
Steve, of course, was the one who told Nancy.
In his defense, he was very high, and Nancy had been pushing him all night, from the moment she caught wind that he might know how they knew each other.
Eddie went inside to grab them all water, and she pounced.
By the time Eddie got back, Steve was half asleep and Nancy was smirking at Eddie.
“You could’ve just said.”
“He’s never getting high for free again.”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s back to being a paying customer, too.”
Nancy laughed, startling Steve into opening his eyes. He smiled up at Eddie, no clue he’d just given up one of their secrets.
“Hi, baby. You know Nancy didn’t know about you and Jonathan?”
Eddie glanced over to see Nancy rolling on her side, laughing hysterically.
“Yeah. I’m sure that was on purpose. How about we get you to bed, superstar?”
He managed to get Steve onto the couch, where he immediately passed out.
Nancy hugged him, kissed his cheek, like she always did before leaving.
“It’s not a big deal, you know. He’s mentioned that he isn’t only into women. We’ve talked a lot about the Argyle situation.” She walked towards the door. “Steve will get over the jealousy eventually. It’s not like Jonathan wouldn’t have made out with him if he could have.”
She left before Eddie could respond.
Eddie suddenly understood exactly what Steve was feeling.
“Not gonna happen,” he mumbled to himself before joining Steve on the couch and pulling him close.
#eddie munson#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things#sorry but it’s a very funny thought to me that Eddie and Jonathan made out once and Steve gets jealous#and it’s way way worse than any jealousy he had over Nancy#it’s also absolutely hilarious to think of Eddie getting illogically jealous in return#it’s just a silly brain worm#it took up 10 minutes of my day so now it can take up 5 of yours
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Steddie brainrot continues to worsen to a concerning degree but here's a crack idea that is absolutely sending me:
Famous Spicy Six in which Jonathon is a director who decides to work on a passion project: a Scooby-Doo movie. His ideal cast is as follows:
Nancy Wheeler (investigative journalist with a few special appearances on crime dramas) as Daphne Blake
Argyle (an actor with a habit of playing small parts; he acts only because he thinks it's fun, so he's not concerned with significant roles) as Shaggy Rogers
Robin Buckley (a well-known voice actor who is more well-known for her social media posts and clap-backs) as Velma Dinkley
Steve Harrington (basketball star who is also more well-known for his social media clap-backs and for being Corroded Coffin's number one fan) as Fred Jones
Eddie Munson (frontman for Corroded Coffin, an insanely popular metal/punk/rock band and "infamous" for unashamedly posting Steve Harrington thirst tweets) as the voice of Scooby-Doo
Corroded Coffin is also creating an entirely new, original soundtrack for the movie
And because I think it's funnier this way, this is also an AU where the Upside Down still happened, so Jonathon just calls his friends up and is like "Okay, so hear me out"
The absolute insanity that breaks out when both the movie and cast are announced because nobody can figure out how Jonathon managed to convince all these powerhouses to join his movie.
The further screaming online after one of the movie promo interviews where a reporter asks how they all agreed to the movie and Nancy hits them with, "Well, Jonathon asked, and he never asks for anything."
Which leads to the discovery that they all knew each other in high school, and the reporter jokingly asks if that means they've all dated each other, too, which leads to Eddie jumping in with absolute delight like, "Well, that's a funny story, there. See, Stevie here dated Nancy, who then dated Jonathon when they broke up, who then dated Argyle after they broke up. And I thought Stevie and Robin were dating, so I was very confused when I saw Robin and Nancy kissing. But then I found out that Robin was a true-blue lesbian, which meant Stevie here was open for the taking, and we've been banging ever since."
and Steve is just sitting there, head in his hands while Robin cackles and decides to tell the reporter all about Steve's "fuck I have a crush on Eddie" crisis
This interview, of course, leads to even more freaking out online and comments like "I know I asked for poly Scooby gang, but this is ridiculous," and "I can't believe that in this, the year of our lord 20xx, ScoobyXFreddy became a canon ship," and "if I had a nickel for every romantic relationship the Scooby gang actors have had with each other, I'd have five nickels, which is way more than any of us fucking expected to have," and "suddenly Eddie Munson's thirst tweets make a lot more sense, but can we talk about Steve Harrington's CC tweets now," and "everyone say thank you to Eddie Munson for revealing that mess of a relationship map," and "finally, the canon lesbian velma and daphne we deserve"
The movie is a box office hit, btw, and bloopers from filming roll with the credits, among which is Eddie Munson making Steve Harrington lose his shit laughing on set while dressed in a Scooby Doo onesie and singing Corroded Coffin songs with his Scooby Voice
#Steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#Jonathon Byers#argyle stranger things#Nancy Wheeler#Robin Buckley#scooby doo#Scooby Doo is my special interest btw#I know more Scooby lore than you could dream of babygirl#thoughts of this AU completely send me into absolute fits#please appreciate the sheer crack-value of it all I'm begging
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Steve has a problem. Not a big problem--not an Upside Down-sized problem--but still. A problem. In the form of Eddie Munson. And not the person Eddie Munson, who is second only to Robin in the hierarchy of Steve's heart, but his feelings in regard to one Eddie Munson. Namely, his enormous, devastating, gay crush on the guy.
And he knows, okay, he knows Eddie is gay, but that doesn't mean he wants Steve. Eddie is probably into other metalheads or dnd nerds. What could Steve, with his sports and his polo shirts, possibly have to offer?
He's coping, though. Or, at least, he thought he was until the
Family Video phone rings and Jonathan invites them to the New Year's Eve party he and Argyle are throwing at their new apartment.
"We have to make a no-date pact." He tells Robin as soon as the phone is back in the cradle.
"Or you could just ask Eddie."
"You could just ask Nancy." He raises an eyebrow.
She lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, okay. No-date pact. I'm down."
It's just as easy to get Nancy and Eddie on board. Nancy just laughs and says "yeah, like I'd bring a date to the party my ex-boyfriend is hosting with his new boyfriend. How you do you even start to explain that dynamic?"
And Eddie snorts right in Steve's face (it's not cute, it's not), says, "Right, cause my dating pool in Hawkins, Indiana is just ripe with guys who want to ring in the New Year with me."
Steve wants to say that he would be that guy, happily, giddily, but he can't risk blowing up his second most important friendship like that, not when Eddie's never given a fraction of a hint that he wants Steve too.
But that's his problem solved, right? The four of them aren't bringing dates. Easy-peasy.
Unfortunately, Steve's life hasn't ever worked out like that, and the party turns out to not be only their little end of the world crew and a handful of people Jon knows from his grocery store job, but an actual motherfucking party.
It takes almost ten minutes for him and Robin to navigate through the sea of strangers to find Jon and Argyle handing out solo cups in the kitchen.
"Who are all these people?" He shouts over the pounding music, nothing like Steve's ever heard.
"Argyle got a job at the record store down the street," Jon yells.
"Co-workers." Argyle nods. "And a few of their friends."
"A few, right."
"The more the merrier. Right, my dude?"
"Sure." Steve takes a cup. "You seen Eddie around?"
"Living room, last time I looked." Jonathan answers.
"See you around?" Robin asks.
"At least meet up for the ball drop," Argyle answers.
They push their way into the cramped living room, and Steve searches for that familiar cloud of hair, the ripped black jeans. It takes a minute just for the sheer amount of bodies pressed into the small space, and when he sees him Eddie's--
He's standing against a wall, next to the stereo (of course), but there's someone with him. Someone who is tall and leanly muscled in a way that Steve isn't. Someone with long hair pushed back from his forehead. Someone with facial piercings in places Steve didn't even know you could pierce and tattoos and a chain hanging from his worn blue jeans and a bandana in his back pocket, just like Eddie.
And Eddie he's--he's gazing up at this dude with clear stars in his brown doe eyes, body angling towards the other man like he can't help but push more into his orbit.
Steve turns hard, Robin colliding with his side. "Steve, what the--oh."
"I hate New Year's Eve," Steve sighs, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It's always been the kind of holiday that is high on expectation and low on follow-through.
"C'mon, I think I spotted Nance over by the bedroom."
He lets Robin guide him across the room, steadfastly not looking back at where Eddie is very obviously finding himself a date. It's okay, Steve reasons. It's okay because that was obviously the kind of guy Eddie would be into it. He knew he had, like, no chance. He shouldn't be disappointed. He shouldn't.
The evening slips away in the shove of people, in the solo cup that manages to always be full in his hand, and he tries as hard as he can to ignore the way Robin and Nancy start sharing the same space.
So much for the no-date pact. He would laugh if a sort of deep loneliness wasn't seeping into his bones.
There's a girl, though, across the room. She's in a short dress and glances at Steve from under hooded eyelids. He could make a move; could have someone to kiss at midnight; have someone just for the night. But then--his heart makes a pathetic patter--Eddie.
Eddie who is practically in that stranger's lap.
He goes out for a cigarette.
When he comes back inside, it's five minutes til midnight and Nancy and Robin are dancing slow and sweet to a song that is neither.
He's happy for them, almost incandescent with it, but the loneliness sinks deeper, reaches marrow, especially after he fails to find Eddie in the crowd.
Steve thinks it might be time to give the whole failed endeavor up for good, but Jonathan and Argyle, both in tiny 1987 novelty top hats, appear at his side.
"Stevie-boy!" Argyle bellows. He lifts Steve at the waist, twirling him, and Steve laughs despite himself.
"Keeping busy?" He asks.
Jonathan pounds him on the back, just a little too hard.
A guest yells from deep in the apartment, "one minute to midnight!" and the music turns off, the TV tuned to Dick Clark and turned up.
Nancy and Robin find their way over, Robin mouthing "sorry," on her way. He pulls her into a side-hug; he'll never begrudge her any happiness, even on his worst day.
From across the room, there's a crash, a short yelp, and then a familiar head of fuzzy brown curls makes its way to them.
"Sorry, sorry." Eddie apologizes as he shoves through the other guests.
"Hi, guys!" He beams at them, cheeks flushed. Steve looks away so he doesn't have to think about how beautiful Eddie is; about how he's not the one who made him blush so pretty.
The countdown on the screen reaches 30 seconds, and the party goers start chanting.
"What happened to--?" Steve can't help but asking.
"Psh, that dude? He's a punk. Plus, I couldn't imagine ringing in 1987 without you guys by my side."
Steve blushes and rolls his eyes. "Sap." He knocks his hip into Eddie's.
"You love it," Eddie wraps him in a loose hold.
The count is down to 10, the ball almost dropped, Jonathan and Argyle and Nancy and Robin making soft eyes at each other.
"What's going on in that head of yours, sweetheart?" Eddie knocks his head gently against Steve's.
"It's nothing."
"You're pouting." Eddie mimics him with a poked out lip.
The count is down to 5.
"Fuck, I just--I wanted to have someone to kiss at midnight, you know?"
The ball drops, the year changes over, the room cheers. His coupled up friends cling to each other in soft, joyous kisses.
Eddie's eyes flick to their friends, to the guests, all kissing and embracing and celebrating, then back to Steve.
With two careful fingers, Eddie lifts Steve's chin, makes it so he can't look away.
"Fuck it," Eddie says. He leans forward, kisses Steve with soft authority.
And Steve just--he just fucking--crumbles into it. He makes a soft noise, curls his fists into Eddie's t-shirt.
Eddie's hands work their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Steve goes eagerly, crushes their bodies together.
They kiss and they kiss, and it's already so far from a friendly New Year's kiss, but then Eddie's tongue swipes into Steve's mouth, and the kiss breaks.
"Um," Eddie says.
Steve can't respond because all his focus is on not giving into the weakness in his knees and collapsing to the floor.
"I've wanted you to do that all night," Steve says.
"Oh." Eddie's face blossoms into a slow smile. "Me too. A lot longer than that, actually."
It's Steve's turn to smile, and he does, so hard it hurts his cheeks. "Me too."
Eddie presses their foreheads together. "Happy New Year, Stevie."
Someone starts singing Auld Lang Syne loudly and off-key, but they're quickly drowned out by a chorus of accompanying voices.
"Happy New Year, Ed."
Steve pulls him in for another kiss. 1987 is already shaping up to be the best year of his life.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#new years eve#spicy six#ficlet#angst#fluff#mutual pining#angst with a happy ending#first kiss#nye party#ronance#jargyle#this is very loosely based on the nye episode of friends where joey kisses chandler#hold on to the memories they will hold on to you
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I will never not be OBSESSED with the Famous trope + Found Family trope with the Party 😭 The headlines would be so chaotic? Like:
Famous Rockstar Eddie Munson is seen eating lunch with two time Pulitzer winner Nancy Wheeler, Highest Paid Photographer Jonathan Byers and Successful Entrepreneur Argyle Alvez. How does he know these people???
Three time Grammy Winner Eddie Munson seen in a McDonald's with World Renowned Astronaut Dustin Henderson and New York Times Best Seller Will Byers-Wheeler and Mike Byers-Wheeler. What the actual fuck???
Eddie Munson, seen in a Chicago Bulls game looking confused as hell, mere seconds after finding out his second album just went Multi-platinum, with his husband, Steve Munson. Also seen in pictures, Eddie Munson hugging point guard Lucas Sinclair and his wife, Max Sinclair. How???
MSG Sold Out Performer Eddie Munson seen in Chicago Medical Center with World Renowned Surgeon Dr. Erica Sinclair. Our insiders say that the rockstar is FINE and was only having lunch with the doctor. What in the multiverse is happening???
Eddie Munson and his husband seen in line at the book signing of rising Linguistics Author Robin Buckley. They ended up laughing so hard when they reached the author, they almost got kicked out. Turns out they all knew each other???
Rock Star Eddie Munson bringing packed lunch in pajamas to a small Chicago preschool where husband, Steve Munson and known friend, Jane Hopper works. Why??? How??? What???
Third most followed person on Instagram Eddie Munson, just broke the internet by posting a group picture with Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Argyle Alvez, Dustin Henderson, Lucas, Max and Erica Sinclair, Mike and Will Byers-Wheeler, his husband Steve Munson and family friend Jane Hopper. HOW DO THEY ALL KNOW EACH OTHER?! WHAT A WEIRD GROUP?!
The more people speculate, the more they say shit. Like people ask them how they know each other and they all just throw out the weirdest answers.
Nancy gets asked in a press conference how she knows Rock Star Eddie Munson? Nancy answers with, "I was driving myself to California when I was 19 and I picked him up as a hitch hiker along the way. We’ve been friends since then."
Robin gets asked in a lecture how she knows the Sinclair Clan? Robin answers with, "I go way back with Dr. Erica. She once saved me from Russian Doctors trying to cut my toe nails."
Eddie goes on an interview in National TV and the host asks how he's friends with Argyle and Jon? Eddie answers with, "I got kidnapped by a killer clown when I was 17. They saved me by crushing the clown's still beating heart with their own bare hands."
Steve gets bombarded with questions online of how he knows Nancy, Robin, Jon, Argyle and even Eddie (his husband)? Steve answers with, "We were stuck in detention every Saturday when we were in senior year. We all became friends when Eddie Munson started singing Don't You (Forget About Me)."
Will and Mike gets asked in an interview about their friendship with Basketball Star, Lucas Sinclair? Will says, “Lucas once gave my dog CPR, ultimately, saving it’s life and we’ve been friends since then.” and Mike just goes, “Who???”
Erica once got asked how she knew Genius Astronaut, Dustin Henderson. Erica rolls her eyes, “That boy owes me his life. Ask him, not me.”
Dustin gets asked how he knows Eddie Munson. Dustin goes with, “Eddie once saved me from a feral army of bats and almost died. I’ve never let go of him since then.” The fans think this one might actually be true, they’ve seen the scars on Eddie, they’ve got theories and Dustin just gave them a puzzle piece.
Argyle got asked in a Business Magazine how he knows this weird, interconnected group. Argyle says, “Oh dude! Those are my life long friends! It started with a pizza van, a dead man, and a road trip to Utah. There was also a bald girl involved. In the end, the real treasure really is the friends we make along the way.”
Jonathan gets asked how he knows Eddie Munson. Jon gives the softest, sweetest smile and says, “We were in a satanic cult together.”
Jane Hopper gets asked once in public (how she knows all these famous people), someone filmed it and it went viral on Twitter. El says, verbatim, “Oh. It all started when I was kidnapped by an evil scientist who tested stuff on me like I was a lab rat. Long story short, they saved my life and they are my family.” By then people already don’t believe any of them because they all give out the most ridiculous answers. Hopper still grounds her for that even though she doesn’t live with him anymore. (Owens, who hasn't called them in 15 years, reached out with a warning).
→ Current Additions: Lucas Lie Detector & Max's Future (Scroll down the link)
#people will be speculating#but they wont say shit#steddie rants#dae writes#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things headcanons#steddie headcanons#steddie#stranger things#the party#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things rants#daeheadcanons
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Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.
It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.
Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.
Today was the same as every other day.
Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.
And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.
Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.
Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.
If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.
“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”
Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.
“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”
“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”
They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.
“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.
“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.
Steve stopped.
“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”
Eddie sighed.
“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”
Eddie nodded solemnly.
“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”
Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.
“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”
Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.
“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”
“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”
“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.
“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”
Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.
“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”
“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”
“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”
Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.
“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.
“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.
“A person?” asked Eddie.
Steve gulped, and nodded.
“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”
Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.
Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.
“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.
“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.
Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?
“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.
“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.
“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.
“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”
“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.
Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.
“To make someone happy,” he said.
“Like…” whispered Steve.
Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.
“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.
Steve hummed.
“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.
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Memory
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember
Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.
The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.
“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.
She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.
“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.
“You know what I want,” he says.
“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.
The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.
“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.
“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.
“You’re lying!”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”
“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.
Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.
He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.
“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.
“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”
“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”
“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”
“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”
“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”
She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.
Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.
She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.
You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.
“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.
“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”
She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.
Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.
“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”
“You seem familiar,” you tell her.
“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”
“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”
You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.
“I better get back to work,” you say.
“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.
She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.
With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.
You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.
“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.
“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”
“I- what? Okay?”
She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.
Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.
“What is happening?” You ask her.
“Just trust me,” Nat says.
“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”
“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”
“Two minutes before what?”
She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.
“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.
“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.
She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.
“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.
“I am not riding on that,” you say.
“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.
You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.
“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.
“What?”
You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.
“Jump!” Nat shouts.
You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.
You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”
The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.
“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.
“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.
“Y/n-“
“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”
Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.
“I told you to let me be.”
“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”
Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.
“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.
You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.
“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”
“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”
“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”
You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.
“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.
You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.
“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”
“For?” You ask.
“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.
Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.
“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.
“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”
“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.
“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”
“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.
“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”
“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”
“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.
“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”
“No,” she says simply.
“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”
You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.
“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”
“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.
She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.
You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.
“How did I do that?”
“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.
You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.
“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.
“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”
“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”
“But why?”
“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”
“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”
“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”
You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.
“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.
“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.
“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“
“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”
“I don’t need to hear what?”
There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.
“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.
She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.
“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”
“What was Steve going to say?”
“Hm?”
“About you and me,” you prompt her.
Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.
“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”
“Together?”
She nods.
“Define together. Like dating?”
“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”
“Oh,” you say.
“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.
“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”
“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”
“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.
“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”
You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.
“I want to remember.”
“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”
To be continued…
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort
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Jealous?
Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)
.
Eddie had a problem.
A Steve Harrington sized problem.
Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.
It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.
Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.
Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.
Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.
The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.
They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.
“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.
Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.
“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“
That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.
“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.
Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”
“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”
Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”
Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”
Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.
And that was how it went.
A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.
And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.
Until—
Until.
It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.
They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.
Tonight was no different, except for one thing.
“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.
Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”
Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.
“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”
“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.
“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.
“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.
Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.
“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.
Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.
Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said
“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”
Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”
The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.
As it stood, Steve looked good.
He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—
“Eddie!”
He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.
“Huh?”
Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”
Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.
“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”
Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.
That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.
Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.
The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.
He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.
The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.
Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.
It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.
After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.
“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.
But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.
“So?”
Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.
“Soooo…?”
She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”
Jonathan snickered.
“Wha—“
“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.
Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”
“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.
“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.
Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.
“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.
“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.
Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”
Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.
“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.
Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.
He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—
And?
Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.
“Steve!”
Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.
“You know him, doll?”
Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.
“Yeah—“ Steve started.
“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”
Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.
The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.
Who was absolutely red in the face.
“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”
Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.
“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“
“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.
Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.
“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.
Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.
Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.
Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.
For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.
Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.
“Hi.”
All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.
“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.
“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.
“He’s alright.”
Six heads suddenly turned on him.
“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.
“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.
“Well I hadn’t exactly—“
“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.
The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.
“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.
Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.
Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.
“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”
“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.
It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”
Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.
“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”
Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”
Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.
“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.
Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.
“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.
Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.
(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)
So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”
That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.
Then they were rudely interrupted.
“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?
Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.
“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”
The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.
“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.
“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?
“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.
“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”
Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.
“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.
“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”
Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.
“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”
Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.
The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”
Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.
“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.
The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.
“You didn’t have to punch him.”
“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.
Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.
“Was it cause he was an ass?”
Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“
And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.
“And?” Steve prompted.
“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”
Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.
“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”
Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.
“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”
Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”
Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“
That startled a laugh out of Eddie.
“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”
And wasn’t that a thought.
What changed?
Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.
So that’s changed.
But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.
What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.
But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.
“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.
Or maybe he did express them aloud.
He’d drank more than he thought.
And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.
They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.
By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.
“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.
Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.
“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”
Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.
“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”
Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.
Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.
So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.
.
It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#argyle#that dude needs a last name#spicy six 😍#I kinda love them as a group#steddie#steddie idea#small fic#oneshot#eddies a jealous bastard#steve finds it stupidly hot#robin never lets them live it down#nobody can resist the harrington charm#unfortunately#eddies boy is just very desirable#side jancy#but mainly Steddie
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 11.8k+
→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.
i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.
if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.
thank you. i love you.
without further ado...
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
EPILOGUE: A BET
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?”
Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts.
“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?”
He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.”
The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.
And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.
“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.”
It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars.
Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.
But your friends didn’t know.
Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy.
At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.
“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?”
“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.
Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?”
“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.”
“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath.
Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.
“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.”
What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable.
Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.
“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.
“Of course you’re choosing the red one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature.
You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand.
“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.”
He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.
“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”
Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.
Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.
You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends.
The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second.
But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out.
It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.
He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.
And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie.
You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet.
You sort of hated yourself for it.
You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.
“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”
“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“
“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”
You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.
“Nowhere,” you shrug off.
“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?”
He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.
“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.”
All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way.
It was a nice change.
It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words.
Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”
“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.”
“What’s there to discuss?”
You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.
His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?”
No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.
“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?”
You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room.
It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.
“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”
The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time.
You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.”
You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.
You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.
—
STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight?
You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.
Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant.
STEVE-O: ???
The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.
“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.”
The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.
He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.
“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“
STEVE-O: helllooooo????
“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?”
Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked.
“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.
It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone.
“You sure?”
You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.
You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“
He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.
You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.
“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.
He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering.
With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy.
STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.
At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more.
“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“
Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.
You were going to kill Steve Harrington.
“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”
“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.
He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.
“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.
“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“
“I didn’t see the texts.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Nope.”
You’ve never been so short with your friends.
But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off.
“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“
“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?”
At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.
“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.
Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues.
So much more than like.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.”
“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.”
Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker.
“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?”
“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”
Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.”
You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie.
Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face.
“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.”
Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping.
Don’t bite me, you mouth at him.
Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever.
“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?”
“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space.
You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation.
You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.
Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him.
“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?”
Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends.
“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.”
He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment.
“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”
“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.”
Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think.
“You just sound like you are.”
“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie.
He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on.
As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.”
Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants.
When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra?
You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one.
Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.
“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.”
“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases.
“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line.
It almost makes you smile. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”
“What do you mean?” you play dumb.
You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now.
“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”
Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you.
“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.”
“Oh, you must see the irony there-”
You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.”
Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it.
Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?”
You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”
He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.”
Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.
Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily.
“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.”
“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”
He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror. The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand.
And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate.
Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?”
Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.
You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.
You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point.
After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose.
We really need to just buy a second helmet.
The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it.
Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly.
Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words.
“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.”
You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found.
You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?”
Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?”
“That’s my shirt.”
“What?”
He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.”
You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you.
Bastard.
“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.”
—
You were wrong. They do notice.
Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.
They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other.
You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.
“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”
Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely.
“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric.
Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good.
“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly.
“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.”
“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?”
In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.”
Ah, fuck.
It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck.
Fuck.
You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier.
“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.”
“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”
You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s.
You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid.
You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead.
And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away.
He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.
“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.”
Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey.
Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance.
When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.
And Nancy had noticed.
“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.”
While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself.
Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.
“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.”
“Is that a good idea?”
You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.
He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots.
You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly.
You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?”
Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames.
You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight.
His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?”
Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie.
“I don’t think you are, Munson.”
Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is.
Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough.
She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything.
“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?”
He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-”
“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?”
Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.”
He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss.
His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”
“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!”
Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly.
“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.”
Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?”
You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look.
“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-”
“Holy shit.”
Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-”
Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.
Oh no.
“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly.
“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.
Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?”
Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm.
Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones?
“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.”
“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out.
Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”
“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”
“Fuck off, Nancy.”
“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!”
“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.
You have no clue what his lockscreen is.
“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten.
You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble.
“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?”
He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.
It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds.
It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.
For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him.
“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.”
He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him.
You’re the farthest thing from upset at him.
“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips.
You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.
And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.
“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?”
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good.
“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.”
Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval.
Well, so much for next time.
You give him a little nod.
Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.
This, as a matter of fact, changes everything.
No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.
The reactions all vary.
Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!”
Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.”
Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.”
“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?”
“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?”
You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home.
You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air.
You liked him, you liked him, you liked him.
And the feeling was mutual.
You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real.
“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-”
“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.”
“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.”
“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?”
“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.”
And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more.
“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier.
Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had.
You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?”
“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself.
“How’d you know?”
Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.”
“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.”
You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”
“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”
“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.”
Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.
“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.”
His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment.
His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat.
Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now.
Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week.
You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time.
The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real.
“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup, “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.”
He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months.
You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him.
“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.”
“I never really did.”
“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?”
You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind.
Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you.
That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him.
You love him, you love him, you love him.
So why can’t you just tell him that?
“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”
“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.”
“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.”
“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult.
Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots.
These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot.
“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.”
Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.”
“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass.
The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.
“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.”
Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.”
He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do.
And yeah, you did know what to do.
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.”
A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues.
Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back.
Next time. You have to tell him next time.
—
The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly.
Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind.
You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her.
Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.
It’s a domino effect from there.
Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless.
Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun.
It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars.
The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.
I love you.
It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.
You had a breakdown because you love Eddie.
You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.
It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves.
“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“
Now. Not later, not next time. Now.
“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike.
His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?”
Here goes nothing – be brave.
“I-”
Why is this so hard?
It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy.
It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right.
It’s easy. He loves you – you love him. It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was.
“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily.
Loving Eddie is easy.
“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”
Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him.
His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.
You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year.
“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life.
You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.”
Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you.
He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours.
“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.”
“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”
“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.”
You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”
“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.”
“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself.
“We so did.”
You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”
He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.”
“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?”
“They do.”
He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be.
You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.
“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo.
Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.
Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!”
Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other.
Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable.
Finally.
“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking.
You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly.
Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.”
Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home.
When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.”
His lips meet yours for good measure.
It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.
taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777
#twenty four hours#eddie munson#my writing#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#i cannot believe it's over holy shit#holy fucking shit#told y'all the photo would make a reappearance!#im resisting the urge to be so so sappy jesus christ
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Thinking about thoughts
♡Masterlist♡
MINORS DNI
May contain Dubcon, age gap, dark characters, somnophilia, stepcest
༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻
♡ sucking steve and Billy's cocks when they've just finished their basketball practice they suffocate you in their balls
"God you're fucking disgusting bet you're getting off on this arent you?"
"Billy be nice shes too dumb to care about a little bit of sweat"
�� eddie would bite your boobs </3 would probably make your nipples bleed then flick them through your shirt
♡ I love the whole "stuck in the washing machine" porn plot <3 maybe you hosted a small get together at your house (Nancy, robin, eddie, steve, Jonathan, billy, argyle) and you quickly decide that you need to grab something from your room. Its stored at the back of your bed so you have no other choice but to crawl underneath to get it, unfortunately your bed frame decides to fall just as you were pulling out leaving you stuck with your back arched. Thankfully your friends hear your yells and come to help you but not before they have some fun with you first, you're covered in cum and spit by the end. Your cunt all puffy swollen and sore but your night doesnt end there because they soon find out that they cant Lift the bed :((( meaning they have to call for help, big strong hopper shows up and stretches you out even more but eventually pulls you out from beneath the crushed bed.
♡ billy would 110% fuck you then take pictures of you just to show to his teammates (who tried to flirt with you) that you were his
♡ •whoever• helping there favourite cheerleader stretch, pressing your legs to you chest as they repeatedly hit that special spot that makes you feel all gooey inside
♡ rockstar! eddie fucking you on stage 👁👁
♡ billy/eddie making you cry just so they can wipe your tears and jerk off with them. They're being so mean to you, tears are streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto their cock
♡ mrs wheeler had a bad date night and comes home wine drunk, you're having a sleepover with nancy (whose already asleep) you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water when you hear her enter. You're not sure how you ended up with her red lipstick smudged between your thighs or your swollen, juice soaked lips but you're not complaining especially when she invites you over the next day
♡ robin really likes your boobs. Almost in a obsessive kinda way. Theyre always so sore and bruised from how much she sucks on them, there are small crescent moon shaped cuts from where she squeezes them aswell as finger shaped marks. Shes always so sorry when you whine in pain as struggle to put your bra on choosing to just pull your shirt on without the wired piece of fabric, her apologies are insincere as she cant help but gawk at your chest and your hardened nipples. It's a win her book
♡ steve x bimbo! reader who loves skating !! He always sees you in your mini skirts and roller skates but can never seem to get the opportunity to talk to you that is until you come into family video looking for some elvis movie for your grandma, despite his charm and flattery you're too dumb to understand his flirting and brush him off he assumed you were playing hard to get and Almost like clock work youd come in every week to return and rent a new movie then indirectly reject him. Steve had gotten tired of the schedule you had both fallen into when he decided to ask you directly
"Are you not interested in me or something? Am I getting the wrong signals? Because everytime i try to flirt with you, you just ignore it. Arr you ju- just not into men? Or-"
"Oh my god! I didnt know you were flirting with me silly! like I dont think you ever said something in a flirty way. And by the way as much as I love women I also totally love men maybe not as much but that's not important. You know if I had known you were flirting I would've soo gone out with you I mean-"
He coudlnt believe his ears, you didnt know he was flirting with you? He used the most obvious pick up lines
"W-wait what do you mean you didnt know I was flirting with you?"
"Well it's not like you asked me to bend over so how was I supposed to know?"
"...I dont think that's flirting"
You felt so bad for him :((( you couldnt believe how dumb you were for not realising sooner </3 luckily for Steve his break was soon which gave you a chance to make up for it, although the storage room was not the ideal place for you to be on your knees you couldnt find a thought to care.
♡ eddie would bite your pussy. Nobody else will say it but he would be devouring your cunt then bite you
♡ breeding kink! With dark! Steve!!! Hed fuck you anytime he gets the chance, bent over the sink? Boom cock in you, in the shower? Boom filled, when you sleep? BOOM BOOM BOOM COCK
♡ sucking on man titties 👁👁
♡ hehe flayed billy making you eat ice before you suck him off because he likes the cold
♡ hopper cucking Phil!! Fucks his pretty lil wife right in front of him, hes tied up with a cock ring !!!! Hopper threatens to knock you up and claim you !!!
♡ argyle jerking off infront of you <3<3 you're getting high in the back of his van and he cant help but get turned on by the look of you, you've always been close and in the drug induced haze you cant help but let him stroke himself especially when he asks so nicely
♡ nancy has so many toys its insane, shes also very adamant about using them on you
♡ eddie in panties!!!! Eddie in panties!! MY PRETTY BOY!!! dont think this means hes going to be submissive for you if anything he gets meaner maybe he makes you wear them after he gets all his cum smeared on the inside
♡ stepdad hopper fingering you under the table at dinner !!! His thick fingers sliding against your gummy walls, he sucks off your juices playing it off as him enjoying his food
♡ billy pulls your pussy apart just to spit on it before eating, sometimes smacks your clit too just so see it swell up, likes forcing his fingers into you so he can feel how you try to push him out. Hes probably tattooed his name on to your mound
♡ eddie pretends to pray before spitting on your clit, he uses his pointer finger to move his salvia around maybe nibbles at it too. He just likes watching your hips jerk towards him, gets him worked up to know that only he can please you
♡ steve kisses your clit but not just a simple peck this man makes out with your clit !!! He sucks and swirls his tongue around it practically forces his faces as close as he can get. He loves tasting you, he loves knowing that you juices linger on him
♡ argyle loves stretching your pussy apart to watch your hole clench around nothing. He thinks your cunt is the prettiest thing hes ever seen and could spend forever looking at it. He eats you out slowly trying to prolong leaving his space between you thighs, his lips are swollen by the end and his face is covered in your juices
♡ Jonathan kisses your clit before going down on you, his mouth is all over you and hes constantly lapping up the juices that spill out of you. His fingers are buried inside of you and are moving from your hole to his mouth
♡ hopper is mean and spits on you aswell as spanks your poor cunt. He fingers you so expertly that you feel like you're in heaven, his mouth never leaves your clit and you're all sensitive the next morning from his moustache. He prolongs your orgasms until your screaming and crying for release
♡ nancy is also mean </3 she gets you on the floor and presses her foot into you covered pussy, she makes it seem like such a hassle to eat you out but her actions contradict as shes always pulling down you panties to press you against her mouth
♡ 001 is the worst of the worst that man loves watching you wither in whatever pain mixed pleasure he gives you, hes so mean and always bites and pinches your clit. You rarely get to cum when he goes down on you, only granting you permission when you're wrapped around his cock
♡ robin is in awe everytime she gets to taste you, shes constantly looking up at you as you whine and moan. Shes spent hours training herself to know your weak spots, she makes you cum so many times that you can barely keep your eyes open. She loves looking at your fucked out face and wet thighs
♡ chrissy is so sweet!! When the rest of the cheerleaders have left the locker room and have gone home you're both left alone. You're feeling bad about not perfecting a move and she has to make sure you're feeling good. She takes her time with you making sure you feel loved, she has you sat on a bench with her kneeling on the ground. Shes suffocating herself between your thighs and she wouldnt have it any other way
♡ innocent(?) Reader wants to know if cocks can get hickeys, luckily her boyfriend/bestfriend is willing to help in her experiment
♡ mean girl! Bimbo! Reader calls dark! Eddie's friendgroup "a bunch of virgin incels" he corners her and forces her into the hellfire room. He then shows her how much of a "virgin incel" he is
♡ prince! Steve, banished! Eddie, rival! Prince! Billy, royal painter! Jonathan (no cameras so hes a painter now) royal cook! Argyle, king! hopper, princess! Nancy, royal advisor! Robin x maid! Reader (maybe not all at once but the thoughts are there)
♡ mechanic! Scumbag! Eddie who always says theres something wrong with bimbo! Readers car just so he can see her, he always gets under the car when youre wearing your infamous mini skirts. Hes so nice to you and you get him lunch when hes been working so hard <3<3 his only desired payment is your tight warm hole <3<3<3<3<3<3
♡ 001 getting obsessed with Billy's girlfriend after he possesses him <3<3 hunts you down after billy is killed, traps you in the creel house to be his housewife
♡ hopper breed me challenge, want to be his dumb personal fleshlight whose only good for being his house wife
♡ argyle hate fucking dominos worker! Reader
♡ perv! eddie has a set of dice that has been blessed by your pussy, thinking innocent! reader wanted to know how to play dnd and goes to eddie only for him to get carried away and just stuffing you with dice. Probably got bored and somehow convinced you to get on his lap, he held your down as he rubbed your clit as he forced the 20 sided die inside of you. He keeps a die on him at all times tucked away in his jeans, it's his good luck charm the rest get stored next to his bedside table where he kisses them goodbye before hellfire
♡ mrs wheeler boobs in my mouth please !!!!!! Got a vibrator pressed against eachother, she calls me her little baby and I just AEAKSBWON
♡ being Jonathan's girlfriend and coming to meet his parents only to be face first in Joyce's pussy with hoppers fat cock in your womb <3<3<3
♡ innocent(?)! Stalker! Reader takes pictures of herself naked, posed on her teddy pair, in her cotton panties, in the shower, fingers deep in her cunt just so she can give them to her favourite people. Thankfully shes always wore long skirts and baggy cardigans so nobody can trace back whose body it is
♡ I'm still not a furry but I 170% believe that eddie needs a bunny girlfriend (aka me)
♡ vampire eddie chasing down nymph! Fairy! reader to have his way with her
♡ bear! Hopper fucking bunny! Reader over fallen tree maybe it's just regular hopper and his fairy/nymph! Fuck toy
♡ AAAAA dark! Eddie coming home after a bad day finding you sleeping on the couch, he needs relief and you're the perfect thing. He climbs on top of you fucking you awake with his pierced cock.
♡ billy cums on your pussy before the day starts just so your cunt gets nice and moisturized with his seed
♡ eddie walks around the trailer with his hand down his pants he says it's to keep them warm but hes really just touching himself
♡ picnic in the woods where I just get fucked dumb and fed fruit <3 taken back to a cabin where I'm all warm and naked near the fire <3<3<3<3<3<3
♡ 👁👁 Murray keeping nymph! Reader as a pet as much as he likes his strange horny creature he cant keep up with your stamina so calls for backup from his good ol friend hopper
#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x reader#billy hargrove x reader#steve harrington x reader#jonathan byers x reader#argyle x reader#001 x reader#henry creel x reader#chrissy Cunningham x reader#nancy wheeler x reader#robin buckley x reader#joyce byers x reader#karen wheeler x reader#enzo x reader#jim hopper x reader#hopper x reader#bimbo reader#succubus reader
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My Girl Part 1 (Eddie Munson x Reader)
Masterlist All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: swearing
Synopsis: When Mike visits El and the Byers in California, the last person he expected to meet was Eddie’s girlfriend, who apparently exists.
Y/N notes: none
I was originally gonna call this one “The Dungeon Mistress” but that sounded WAY kinkier than I wanted it to be
Request for @maltinonka ! I loved this idea and yes there will absolutely be a part 2 to this one
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
The Byers got back to theirs after meeting Mike at the airport. El had been talking excitedly about her plan for the day non stop and everyone but Mike was ready to get out.
Jonathan took the keys to the front door out of his pocket and began walking up the pathway, the rest of the gang behind him. He spotted his neighbour sitting on her porch and waved.
“Hey Y/N!” He greeted. She looked up from playing her bass and smiled.
“Oh hey guys!” Mike squinted at her as they walked. Something about her vibe seemed strangely familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Hey El who’s that?” He asked, leaning closer to his girlfriend.
“Y/N. She’s our neighbour. She’s really cool.”
“Jonathan and Argyle hang out with her a lot.” Will added. “They pretty much just get high in Jonathan’s room. But yeah like El said, she’s cool.”
“You still up to come round mine later?” The bass player asked the older kids.
“Yeah we just gotta drop Will, Jane and Mike off at the roller rink.” Jonathan replied. That’s when Y/N noticed the unfamiliar face. El linked arms with him and pulled him forward.
“Y/N this is my boyfriend Mike! He’s visiting us for a couple days.” She explained excitedly. Mike waved. Y/N smiled and got up, holding her bass in one hand as she walked over. That’s when Mike saw her shirt.
The Hellfire Club.
He stared in shock and confusion. How the hell did she have that?? It looked faded and worn out. Way older than the one he had. But it was definitely the shirt.
“Hey nice to meet you!” Y/N greeted. She noted the odd look she was getting. “You okay there bud?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.
“W-Where did you get your shirt?” Mike asked, pointing. Y/N looked down at her outfit.
“My shirt? I made it when I was a freshman in high school.”
“… no you didn’t.” Mike stated. Y/N pulled a face.
“Yeah? I did? I designed it too. It was for a club me and my boyfriend were starting-“
“Boyfriend?” Mike repeated in disbelief. No. She couldn’t be. He couldn’t have. No way.
“Yeah it was a-“
“A D&D club?” Y/N stopped.
“How did you?…” Her eyes widened. “Where are you from Mike?”
“Hawkins, Indiana.”
“NO FUCKING WAY!” She screamed and jumped. Pointing at him as she came back down. “You go to my old high school???”
“Yeah!! And I’m in the Hellfire club!!!” Mike matched her energy. Y/N looked at the Byers family.
“Why did you guys never tell me you were from Hawkins too???”
“You never asked!” Jonathan spluttered. They all seemed too shocked to properly speak.
“Wait. You dated Eddie Munson???” Mike asked, pulling a face.
“Dude I still do!”
“What?!” Mike exclaimed, making Y/N laugh.
“Wow great to know he talks about me then.” She said sarcastically. She looked back at El. “Jane I’m borrowing your boyfriend for a minute!”
“Where are we going?” Mike asked. Y/N grabbed his wrist.
“Come here kid.”
She led him inside her house and to her room. Mike had never seen Eddie’s place but he wouldn’t be surprised if it looked exactly like Y/N’s. Dark, messy, walls covered in band posters.
Y/N hung her bass back on her wall. Kissing her fingers and gliding them across the strings before going to kneel by her bed. She pulled out a shoe box from underneath and lifted the lid. Mike sat on the floor with her as she began to go through the pieces of paper inside.
“I moved to Cali for college last year. I’m lucky my uncle lives here so I don’t have to worry about housing. Eddie and I have been sending each other letters since I left Hawkins. Here.”
Y/N began handing them from the box to Mike as she continued to look through them all.
Mike took the letters and started reading. They were all from Eddie, dates going back over the past two years. He got to the one at the end of the pile. The paper was crumpled and torn in places. He could just about read it.
My girl, Y/N.
You don’t know this yet but I’m writing this before you’ve even left. You’re actually next to me right now, taking a nap. We’re in my van, AC/DC is playing. It’s your favourite song, you know the one.
I’m gonna miss this. I’m gonna miss this so much. We’re not even doing anything and I am having the best time of my life.
What am I actually gonna do when you’re gone?? I have no idea.
I promise I’ll keep Hellfire alive and continue to give the freshman nerds somewhere where they belong. I promise to use all the notes you’ve given me for our campaign. You were always the better DM. I promise to keep playing guitar so we can jam again when you come back. The band’s not gonna be the same without you.
Nothing’s gonna be the same without you.
Once I graduate, I’m running like hell outta Hawkins and straight to you.
Wait for me. I love you.
Eddie
“Wow. I had no idea Eddie could be so sappy.” Mike chuckled.
“That boy is full of surprises.” Y/N said with a loving smile. “So how’s my weirdo doing? Does he still jump up on the tables at lunch and yell things?”
“Yeah, yeah he does.” Mike chuckled again.
“Well it was much more annoying when it was both of us up there and we’d be dancing from table to table.”
“Eddie dances?” Mike asked in disbelief.
“Only with me.” Y/N shrugged. “We’d do anything to piss off those jocks. They hated us way before we did any of that shit anyway.”
“Yeah sounds about right.” Mike nodded. “This guy Jason is the worst.”
“Jason Carver?” Y/N asked.
“Yeah you know him?”
“Yeah I know the little shit. He acts like he’s king of the fuckin’ world. I bet he’s worse now that he’s a senior. He had this girlfriend, Chrissy, sweet little thing. Way too good for him.”
“They’re still dating.” Y/N made a disgusted noise as Mike handed her the letters back. She took out a Polaroid from the box before placing the letters down. She smiled at it fondly then handed it to Mike.
The photo was of her and Eddie at her graduation. Eddie was grinning as Y/N’s arms were wrapped around him, kissing his cheek. Mike turned it over to read the message on the back.
You get the fuck outta here and never look back. I’m right behind ya babe.
Mike suddenly felt a twinge of sadness.
“Y/N?” He said.
“Yeah?”
“When’s the last time you were in Hawkins?”
“The day after that picture was taken.”
“Wha- really? So you haven’t been back to visit in the last year and a half??” Y/N shrugged.
“We always planned to get out of that shitty town and never go back. Besides, plane tickets aren’t cheep. The only reason I’m even in California is because my Uncle said he would look after me.” Mike could see she was sad too, really.
“… don’t you miss him?”
“More than anything in the world.” Y/N said softly. She looked over that the calendar hanging on her wall. “Mike, when are you going back home?”
“Next Saturday.” Y/N got up and looked closer at the dates. She mumbled to herself.
“Well I don’t have anything due around that time… and I’ve got some money saved up…fuck it.” She turned back around. “You wanna see Eddie loose his collective shit?”
Mike grinned, standing back up.
“Uh yeah?” He replied, like she even had to ask that question.
“Well then, I’ve got a plane ticket to buy.”
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#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#reader x Eddie Munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#st eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#edddie munson#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things season four#stranger things season 4#stranger things imagine#stranger things spoilers#reader x stranger things
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Mama Munson made Eddie’s Halloween costumes from scratch every year. She said it was because it looked cooler, but as he got older, he realized it was because she used scraps and cheap fabrics to make them and that’s all they could afford.
But his costumes were always great. Every year was better than the last.
When he got too old for trick or treating, she used Halloween night to teach him how to sew.
“For that jacket you wanna wear so bad, baby.”
It took a lot of effort, and a little bit of help for the thicker patches, but he managed to finish it in a few weeks.
That year for Christmas, he made her and Wayne battle jackets with their favorite bands and singers.
It became the thing he gave to important people.
Shortly after Vecna, when he was stuck in bed for nearly a month healing, he had his mom run to the store in Indy and start grabbing patches. Wayne found denim jackets from the donation store, surprised anything was left at all with how much people needed right now.
Eddie made all the kids jackets, even Max, who would probably think it was stupid in the same way she thought Lucas holding her hand was stupid (not at all).
He made Robin one, with a hidden rainbow flag patch on the inside pocket.
Nancy got one, even Argyle and Jonathan got one.
Steve didn’t.
Eddie didn’t know how to make it a friendly gesture, how to not make it look like he was screaming from the rooftops that he’d fallen hard for the guy who almost single-handedly saved his life. He was certain that giving him the jacket he made would be the end of the daily visits, the joking around, the fun.
“Baby, you think he don’t know?”
Eddie’s mama was trying not to laugh when he unloaded on her while he stitched the last patch to the front.
“He visits you every day, sometimes for hours, sometimes has to be dragged out by nurses, and ya think he don’t know?”
As usual, she had a point.
So Eddie was brave, gave Steve the jacket the next day when he stopped by.
Steve was silent as he took in every patch and pin, even the section of glitter glue Erica had insisted he add. Eddie played with his bare fingers, wishing now more than ever that he had his rings back.
Finally, Steve looked up, watery smile pointed right at Eddie.
“I love it. And you.”
Mama Munson slapped the back of his head gently later while Steve slept in the chair by his bed.
“I told ya so!” Her whisper was enough to make Steve shift around, his grip on Eddie’s hand tightening momentarily. “May have lost a nipple, but got yourself a boyfriend. That’s the Munson way.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, Wayne never told you about losing his nipple in ‘Nam? Flirted with the medic and blamed it on blood loss, but wouldn’t ya know? The medic was a little light in his loafers, too!”
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Wayne didn’t lose a nipple. You’re makin’ shit up again.”
“I ain’t never lied to ya! You ask Wayne tomorrow. There’s a reason he don’t ever go shirtless at the lake.”
And sure enough, the next day, Wayne lifted his shirt and showed Eddie where he had nothing but a scar where his nipple should be.
“So what about the medic?”
“Oh! Grant.” Wayne smiled. “We still write to each other sometimes. He’s married, got a few kids.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We wouldn’t have worked anyway. He lives in Maine. Can’t imagine dealin’ with moose.”
Mama Munson just raised her brows from her chair and smirked.
When Steve came by after his shift, he was wearing his jacket and the biggest smile Eddie’s ever seen.
“Anything new?”
“Nothin’ really. Just found out I’ve got a lot more in common with Wayne than I thought.”
#still no name for her but oh well#she can just stay mama Munson#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#mama Munson#I’m begging someone to write something with all this#I ain’t got the TIME#or the ENERGY#I have little spurts of thoughts like this and then NOTHING
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The babysitters’ club, as the older members of the upside down crew have dubbed themselves, meet at least once a week. Sometimes it’s only a few hours, just long enough to watch a movie together, to confirm that everyone is still alive and coping. Sometimes it’s all night, and Argyle plies them all with good California weed while they attempt to work through their collective truckloads of trauma.
Sometimes, like tonight, they spend it goofing off and having fun like the dumb kids many of them couldn’t afford to be.
They’re gathered in a circle at the Harrington mansion, deserted as always, playing truth or dare. Nancy has just admitted to smoking weed in her freshman year, in the drama room with Barbara Holland, and she has set her know it all, meddling, journalist eyes on Eddie.
“Truth or dare,” she asks, a challenge clear on her face.
Eddie knows that, with most people, picking truth may be seen as the cowardly option. With Nancy, that couldn’t be more wrong. If he picks dare, he will be safe, but he will be mocked relentlessly by every single person in the room.
…
“Truth,” he sighs reluctantly.
“Who-” she pauses dramatically for effect, a theatrical detail that Eddie honestly respects, even if it fills him with dread, “-was your most embarrassing crush! And it has to be a person we know, no celebrities allowed!”
Shit.
He feels his eyes dart to Steve. Nancy smirks. Bitch. He can’t even lie about it then.
Time to face the music, he supposes mournfully.
“I would like to say, for the record, that I was in junior year, ok. And, in retrospect, with the knowledge I have now, it’s not even that bad, but at the time-“
“Spit it out, Munson,” says Robin, the fucking traitor.
“IhadacrushonSteve,” he says, all in one breath.
“What was that, dude, I didn’t catch it?” Argyle says, voice mellow. Eddie honestly doesn’t know if he’s in on this or not, but he glowers all the same.
Face red, he repeats, “I had a crush on Steve.” He resolutely does not look at Steve.
“No you didn’t!” Steve responds, immediately, aghast.
Eddie can feel his heart tearing in two.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Harrington, this was years ag-“
“You literally rejected me!”
Fucking what.
He knows he must look ridiculous right now, mouth hanging open, cheeks still red with embarrassment, but he does not have the capacity to care.
“Wh- what do you- huh?” he finally manages.
“When you were in junior year, and I was a sophomore? We were lab partners-“
And ohhh, hadn’t that just been sweet, sweet torture. Pretty, perfect Harrington had had to sit next to him all semester, where Eddie could see his freckles and smell his cologne, but-
“You spent the whole semester making fun of me!”
“What the fuck are you talking about, man?” says Steve, eyebrows furrowed in that way he does that makes Eddie want to kiss his forehead and- Fucking focus, Munson.
“You always used to make passive aggressive comments about my clothes, or my hair, or my books or whatever!”
Steve buries his face in his hands and groans.
“I wasn’t being passive aggressive.”
“You- what the fuck do you mean, you weren’t being passive aggressive! Why else would you have said any of that shit?”
“Because I meant it?”
Because he- what? Eddie played back as many of their interactions from that year as he could remember. I like your jacket, Steve had said when Eddie had started putting patches on his denim vest. Your hair looks nice today, he had said when Eddie had tied it back to beat the heat. Oh, that sounds interesting, when Eddie described the plot of the book he was reading.
“Oh my god, you were flirting with me.”
“No shit! I once told you you had really pretty eyes!“
“I thought you were bullying me!”
“How on Earth could ‘I think you have really pretty eyes’ be bullying?”
“I don’t know! It made more sense than it being flirting!”
“I asked you to go to the drive in with me! That is the most classic first date in the book!”
Holy shit, Steve Harrington had asked him out. Steve Harrington had asked him out and he’d said no. This was the worst day of Eddie’s life.
His face must have looked some kind of way, because Steve just groaned again. He sat there for a second before peeking up from behind his hands, a move that should not have been as cute as it was, what the fuck.
“If I tried again now, would you still think I was bullying you.”
Holy shit did Steve Harrington want to date him? This had to be a trick or a prank or something, right?
Except that he’d thought that in junior year as well, and apparently it had cost him a boyfriend, so.
“No- nope, I would definitely pick up on it, uh huh. Definitely,” he said in a rush. God, he was normally so good with words, fuck.
Steve emerged fully from his hands, face pink but expression determined.
“Eddie Munson, would you like to go to the drive in with me? They’re playing Jaws next saturday and I’d love to watch it with you.”
“Absolutely, Stevie. It’s a date.”
There are groans from the rest of their friends as they rifle through their pockets, each passing money to a very smug looking Nancy.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#my writing#i dont know the character tagging etiquette on tumblr#should i tag nancy or is that rude
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