#like all the other girls wanted him for how he presented himself; Eddie wants him because he’s actually weird as fuck and a HUGE loser
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
"THE FIRST DATE"
EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"
→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader
→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7k+
→ a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.
enjoy the main story's masterlist here
EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?
YOU: boring.
YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???
EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart.
YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME
God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment.
You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week.
EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.
YOU: i NEVER said that.
EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines.
Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other.
Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal.
YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past.
EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past!
YOU: you most certainly have NOT
EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.
And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile.
YOU: i hate you
EDDIE: No, you don’t
YOU: i do. i really do.
EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar
You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer.
“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?”
“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms.
You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead.
“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in.
“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.”
Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.”
“I am not cranky-”
“You are!”
“Am not!”
“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place.
Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.
“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.
“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back.
“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.”
You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider.
Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream.
“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence.
“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?”
Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?”
Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.
“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.”
It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other.
“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week.
Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues.
“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.”
“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”
Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line.
Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously.
“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”
He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends.
“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?”
“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.
You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?”
Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.
But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications.
EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius.
EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night?
—
Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.
And you did. To some extent, you really did.
But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.
Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.
Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?
Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.
YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?
EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)
YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.
Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.
EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.
That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest.
You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now.
There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.
You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.
He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine.
You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.
This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come.
“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING.
Oh.
Oh.
If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him.
Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable?
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.
Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen.
The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you.
He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.
You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”
You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.
You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.
“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“I could say the same about you.”
You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.”
“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“
He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”
“Every time?”
“It’s for safety.”
“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?”
“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.”
You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.”
He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of.
You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized.
“We can go helmet shopping another day.”
We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.
“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you.
Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that.
You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy.
Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street.
When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again.
“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?”
He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.”
“You say that to every girl you bring here?”
You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.
“Only the prettiest ones.”
You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.
But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week.
He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you.
But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him.
The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you.
“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy.
You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his.
“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver.
It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.
The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race.
You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.
“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.”
No, I can’t. Your fault, really.
“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands.
His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch.
“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.
A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide.
And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away.
“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.”
You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.”
Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.
He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.
“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.
Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me?
The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.”
“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?”
The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows.
“Does it really matter?”
You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.
You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking.
“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him.
I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on.
His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse.
Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.
He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light.
“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.
“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”
“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.”
He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away.
He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.”
—
“You’re cheating!”
“I’m not!”
“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?”
Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?”
“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.”
“Like you have been?”
“Burn in Hell.”
Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill.
Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish.
At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen.
“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of.
Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.”
More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends?
Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends?
The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter
No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that.
Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again.
“Th-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.”
His knuckles dig further into his mouth.
“I meant to do that.”
His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.
“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.”
He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist.
You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly.
Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.”
“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce.
“I did.”
“I believe you.”
“I-”
It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much.
Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much.
Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.”
Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play.
You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead.
He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song.
It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember.
It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot.
“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.
“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you.
“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?”
“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.”
Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?”
“Maybe.”
The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer.
You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him.
Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.
Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly.
All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care.
When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him.
You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up.
But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter.
“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.
You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.”
He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter.
This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others.
The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet.
Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply.
You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were.
His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer.
“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.”
“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.”
“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”
“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.”
There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time.
Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile.
With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind.
All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing.
It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect.
“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.”
“I have an answer.”
“You sound very sure there, big guy.”
“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”
Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.
Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though.
“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”
“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness.
“Yeah. Dating.”
The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye.
“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”
“But we’re dating.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating.
He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him.
Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it.
“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.”
His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.”
Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed.
“Get used to it, Munson.”
“I plan to, Sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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#ghost's stories#beyond the hours#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader#their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest#i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves#i might revamp the masterlist#also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike#eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her
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so you don't get lost (steddie ficlet)
written for @steddielovemonth day 17
rating: T
cw: alcohol
tags: first kiss, clubbing, college au, platonic stobin
prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost
“She’s totally into me, right?” Robin asks as they wait for their drinks at the bar, her smile a mile wide, and it’s been a minute since Steve’s seen her smile like that.
“Yeah, totally,” Steve agrees. The girl Robin’s been talking to all night is drifting back over to them even as they speak, the two of them like magnets since they first traded smiles on the dance floor earlier that night.
Robin glances back at her and bites back a wider grin. She bounces on her tippy toes and whispers to Steve, “If I make out with her it’s not gonna make you feel awkward, is it?”
Steve shakes his head. “Go ahead,” he encourages.
It had been a group effort to get Robin out tonight. Her university friends had enlisted Steve to help drag her out of the mopey funk she’d been in since getting broken up with two weeks ago, and it had taken an hour of Steve hyping her up while she kept crying off her attempts to do her makeup before she finally managed to make it to the club. He’s just glad it had been worth it.
“I don’t even know if I remember how to do this,” Robin mutters, a little nervously, as she and Steve grab their drinks and rejoin her friends on the dance floor. But it turns out, she has nothing to worry about. The two girls resume their orbit around each other, and the second the next beat drops and the lights strobe, the other girl finally pulls Robin into a heated kiss. Steve watches this, and he smiles fondly. She deserves it. He’s happy for her.
And he’s totally not jealous. Not necessarily of Robin, obviously, or the girl she’s kissing, but simply of the fact that they’ve so easily found a hot drunk stranger to make out with at the club and he…hasn’t. He can’t even remember the last time he’s had a decent kiss, much less scored at a club, though not for not wanting to.
Steve finds himself glancing at Robin’s friend Eddie, the tatted-up metalhead Steve’s felt a pull towards since the first time they’d met. He thinks about kissing him every time they’re out together, and maybe there was a time when Steve would’ve just gone for it, a time before he’d taken a few too many hits to the ego and developed doubts and insecurities, but now the thought just makes him nervous. Eddie makes him nervous.
He feels that nervousness now as Eddie catches him staring and he shakes those lovely dark curls out of his face and smiles at him. It bubbles in his stomach, flutters in his chest. Steve downs the rest of his drink and looks away. The alcohol floods heat through his veins and blurs his vision, but the ever-present thrum of anxiety just from being in Eddie’s proximity still isn’t dulled. He bobs numbly to the music, avoiding looking at anybody at all now, only staring at the floor or the wall or some super fascinating point just above everyone’s heads, sure he looks like an absolute freak.
It goes beyond just wanting to kiss Eddie; Steve’s not stupid, he knows the only explanation for this sheer amount of nervousness he feels around him is that he’s got an actual, proper crush. Because not only is Eddie super fucking hot, he’s also sweet. Steve is an outsider in this group and he knows it, the college dropout who only tags along because Robin insists on it, but Eddie never makes him feel like that. It’s always Eddie who makes sure he’s included in conversations, always Eddie who makes a point to loop Steve into the context of inside jokes and stories whenever Robin is too distracted to. Steve craves those interactions, gets a thrill every time Eddie so much as speaks to him. So he doesn’t only want to kiss him, he also just wants Eddie to like him, wants him to see him as a friend at the very least. But it’s not like they’ve ever even hung out outside of a group setting, and sometimes Steve fears Eddie’s just being nice and he doesn’t actually see him as anything at all.
Steve’s drifted so far into his own head he doesn’t realize his group is on the move, pushing deeper into the dance floor and leaving him behind.
“Steve!” Eddie’s voice calls out to him and snaps him out of it. Everyone else has been taken by the crowd, but Eddie hangs back, reaching his hand out to Steve.
Steve takes it, swallowing down the way his heart pounds as Eddie’s fingers curl around his hand. Eddie pulls him through the throng of jostling, sweaty bodies, and even though he maintains a tight grip on Steve’s hand, he still keeps looking back at him like he’s making extra sure Steve doesn’t get lost. Warmth blooms in Steve’s chest. Maybe he’s just drunk, maybe he’s just delusional, but all of the sudden he feels so very very cared for.
“Thanks,” Steve says, nearly shouting to be heard over the music.
“‘Course.” Eddie smiles as he turns around to face him. They’ve caught up to their friends now, but he’s still holding Steve’s hand. “I’d never just leave you stranded.”
Of course he wouldn’t. He never has before. Steve just smiles back and squeezes Eddie’s hand.
They’ve only just let go of each other when Robin and her girl, still kissing clumsily and staggering about the dance floor, stumble straight into Steve and knock him off balance. “Woah!” Eddie reaches for him again instantly, looping an arm around Steve’s waist to keep him from toppling over or careening into the crowd.
“Ah! Sorry!” Robin giggles before she’s whisked away again.
Eddie laughs. “Good for her, right?”
“Yeah, good for her,” Steve says, watching his best friend spin out of sight, and when he looks back he startles at how close he and Eddie are, suddenly very aware of Eddie’s arm around his waist and his hands on Eddie’s chest.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, his grip on Steve tightening like he means to steady him.
“Yeah, thanks again.” Steve regains his footing, but he doesn’t pull away. There’s something there, he thinks, in the way Eddie’s always reaching out to him so he doesn’t get lost, literally and figuratively, in crowds and conversations. It could just be friendly, it could just be nothing, but for the first time, Steve lets himself hope. He even thinks about leaning in right now, but then he thinks about it too much, and he doesn’t.
Instead, there’s a weird moment where they’re both just staring at each other. Eddie’s got this confused little smile on his face like he’s waiting to see what Steve will do, and when Steve doesn’t do anything, Eddie’s smile abruptly becomes more playful as if he’s trying to break the tension, and he starts theatrically swaying them to the music, even though it is most definitely not the swaying sort of beat. Steve laughs, his racing heart making it come out giddy and giggly, especially when Eddie drops his waist to grab his hand and twirl him around.
Eddie pulls him in close again then, and this time Steve doesn’t think at all. In fact, it’s unclear which one of them leans in first; all Steve knows is that their lips finally, finally meet in the middle and he finally, finally gets to tangle his hands in Eddie’s hair, and it’s sweet and it’s hungry and it’s absolutely perfect. Steve holds onto Eddie and he gets lost in him.
When Steve meets back up with Robin outside after the club closes, they exchange a celebratory, congratulatory high five, the both of them with matching kiss-swollen lips and dates set for next week.
#loosely based on real events. except steve actually gets to kiss his crush and i didn't :/#also i wrote this like two weeks ago while i was delirious with a fever so. apologies if it doesn't actually make sense lmao#steddielovemonth#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#platonic stobin#stranger things#ficlet#mine
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Steve has only known Eddie for a couple of days.
He thinks back to the way they met in Reefer Rick's boathouse; the desperation in Eddie's eyes, and the fear that had every inch of his body trembling. How utterly defeated he looked when Dustin told him about everything that had been happening in Hawkins over the past years.
He thinks back to the few times he saw him after, when bringing him food or checking up on him. He remembers how anxious he seemed at all times, how the despair and the fear never once left his features.
He thinks back to when they found him at Skull Rock, how his heart skipped a beat in a way that none of the girls he kissed in that same place ever managed to do. He had attributed it to relief, back then, shortly followed by this weird feeling in his chest when Eddie embraced Dustin – jealousy, but not of Eddie, like he had mistaken it for.
He thinks back to when Eddie handed him a flashlight when he was about to jump into Lover's Lake. A light in the darkness. A beacon. All those cliches.
He thinks back to the way in which Eddie waved that oar around when he had already thought himself a dead man. He remembers how right in the middle of that chaotic battle, the thought came to him that Eddie was brave not because of his fearlessness but because of his fear.
He thinks back to the look on Eddie's face when he threw his denim vest at him, and the way it did something to him that was so different from what Nancy's wide-eyed gaze only a second earlier had made him feel.
He thinks back to the honest conversation they had in the woods; the sinister particles that got caught in Eddie's curls like snow, and his fear still so clearly present in his expressive eyes, even though it had gotten pushed to the background by then. He thinks back to their lingering touches; to Eddie leaning into him as if the concept of personal space didn't exist at all and to the warmth he emitted; to Eddie calling him a “good dude” and making his stomach float like it hadn't done in years.
He thinks back to the pure relief on Eddie’s face when their attempt to talk to Dustin worked out; to his elated smile and the way he pumped his fist in the air; to his hand reaching out and squeezing Steve’s shoulder in nothing but excitement upon hearing Dustin’s voice call out to them.
He thinks back to how warm Eddie felt when their legs were pressed against each other while they were sat next to each other on Max’s couch. He remembers looking to his right and seeing how terrified Eddie looked; his quivering lip and his wet eyes, his head resting in his hands. He remembers how he wanted nothing more than to wrap an arm around him and tell him it would all be okay.
He thinks back to the way in which he couldn’t stop staring at Eddie's hands when Eddie was working on starting the motor of the Winnebago. He thinks back to Eddie telling him all about the Munson family name; Eddie calling him big boy with a huge grin on his face; Eddie jumping up from his seat and trusting him enough to let him take the wheel; Eddie cheering behind him like they were going for a rollercoaster ride instead of stealing someone’s house...
He thinks back to the fluttering he felt in his stomach when he watched Eddie mess around with Dustin in the fields; a tiny spark of happiness while they were getting ready for what could be the end of the world as they knew it.
But most of all, he thinks back to the last time he heard Eddie's voice.
Steve? A beat of silence as he turned around, Eddie's eyes piercing into his own. Make him pay.
All he had done was nod. He should've said it, back then. He thought he'd have more time. He'd only just met Eddie, after all. Surely they'd get the opportunity to figure their shit out at their own pace, after the battle would be over.
Don't try be a hero, was the only goodbye he had said to him.
We are not heroes, Eddie had promised him.
“Then why the hell did you do that?” His voice is trembling; Eddie’s hand feels cold in his own. “I liked you better when you weren't a hero, you know.”
He tightens his grip on Eddie's hand, allows himself to imagine that Eddie squeezes back.
“Me too, big boy.”
Steve's eyes snap back to Eddie's face. For a moment, he isn't sure if it's real or if his sleep deprived brain has started full-on hallucinating at this point. But it has to be true; there's no way he could hallucinate those big brown eyes so perfectly, even though they're dazed and glossed-over.
“Was definitely less painful.” Eddie's breathing sounds erratic and his grin looks anything but reassuring, but he's here. He’s alive. He woke up.
They got more time after all. He’ll get to hear everything Steve wanted to tell him. And there's no way Steve is gonna waste another precious second.
#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things#fruity ficlet#fanfic
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Gifts
Rating: T
CW: None
Tags: Established relationship, fluff, minor sexual content
Prompt: For @forgottenkanji "Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy"
WC: 653
Written for Day 29 of @steddielovemonth
He tells himself it’s going to be worth it. Standing here in thirty degree weather, shivering his ass off, waiting for the ticket office to open. Steve can picture the look on Eddie’s face when he shows up on their anniversary with Metallica tickets and that almost makes it worth it.
Three hours he’s been standing out here. The line is getting longer and longer, so he’s glad he made the decision to skip work for the day to come.
Almost. His toes are still fucking freezing.
“Hey man, you in the right line?” a couple of guys behind him snicker, and Steve has to keep from rolling his eyes.
“Sure am. Friend of mine really likes the band and couldn’t make it out, so I figured I would grab tickets for him,” Steve lies smoothly. It’s not really any of these guys’ business, but he’s learned that it’s sometimes the best way to deal with people like this.
The guys are quiet and one finally pipes up, “That’s kind of awesome, man. Sorry.”
Steve waves them off, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. He checks his watch; eight o’clock, the box office should open very soon. He had felt a little bad lying to Eddie, saying that he was going for a run and then had to get to work early, but he’d make it up to him with kisses later on.
He hears cheers go up and the line starts moving, butterflies kicking up in his belly. The counter comes into view and the bored girl at the desk pops her gum as he gets the tickets. Middle seats, nothing fancy, but it’ll be enough to make Eddie lose his mind.
Steve can’t wait.
–
Two weeks later they’re laying in bed, sweaty after sex and full of Jim’s Chinese from down the block. It’s been one of the best anniversaries Steve can remember, and he knows it’s about to get even better.
“Got you a present,” he tells Eddie, reaching over to his nightstand to pull out the envelope he’s been hiding there for the last two weeks. He can’t wait to see the look on Eddie’s face; it’s going to be worth being cold for three hours and the subsequent runny nose that followed.
Eddie grins, eyes shining. “I got you one too.” He reaches over and grabs something from his own bedside table. “On the count of three?”
Together, they say, “One… two… three!”
They each hand the other a similar looking envelope. Eddie opens his first, and lets out a screech of pleasure. “Holy shit!!! Metallica tickets? I thought they sold out!!” He tackles Steve to the bed, kissing his face obnoxiously. “How?”
“Went and waited in line,” Steve replies, because yup, absolutely worth it. “I wanted to get them for you.”
Eddie’s eyes are a little wet and he pulls his hair in front of his face, delighted. “Okay, now you. Then I’m going to ride you into the mattress because I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Heart full, Steve opens up his own envelope, only to find a pair of tickets to go see the Bulls play next Saturday. His eyes go wide. “Eddie, what? You got me Bulls tickets? How-?”
“Asked that guy Jake at your work and I went down the other day and got them. I thought you would like them.”
“But you hate sports!”
Eddie shrugs, looking bashful again. “Yeah, but you don’t. I thought it would nice, you know? We could go together? Unless you want to take like… Jake or something, but-”
He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence. Steve is pulling him close, kissing him like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Their bodies press together and Steve is so ready to show Eddie how much he appreciates him. Repeatedly, until neither of them can move.
All in all, a pretty great anniversary, he’d say.
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Part four of Mean Eddie x Reader series.
Part one Part Two Part Three
Minors shoo! Tiny hint of fluff, Wayne to the rescue, Eddie's po.v.
💌
Eddie is quiet when he isn't in Dungeon Master mode during the latest campaign. He's been like this for a while now and Gareth is worried.
He's sure it's something to do with you, observed the tension between you and Eddie earlier this week with Billy.
Gareth isn't the only one to notice this. Wayne does too. He knows his boy and every one of his moods, knows when something is eating at him. So when Eddie comes back from the campaign that night he's there with a smile and ready to listen.
"What's going on son? You okay? You're quiet and you ain't been quiet since you learned how to talk" Eddie smiles faintly and grabs a beer from the fridge, Wayne pretends not to notice this and grabs one for himself.
"There's this girl I've been seeing and she... We... I thought we were just this casual thing but she wants more and we ended things but I... Shit I miss her uncle Wayne" he says it all in a rush and Wayne listens intently.
"You'll fix things son. Just gotta give it some time" Wayne pats his shoulder and Eddie feels his whole body relax. Wayne's always been the one to calm him down when his emotions got to big, when he needed to soothe the chaos in his mind.
Well his mom did that too but it's been so long without her now, the memories are vague and he clings on to the things he can remember, the smell of her perfume, the way he felt safe and protected when she held him and those big brown eyes that were so much like his own.
For a moment he gives into the memories then speaks again, comes back to the present and the mess he's made with you. At first when the two of you stopped seeing each other he assumed he'd be fine and move on.
Big mistake. He missed you and your laugh and the way you would listen enraptured to his stories, asked him to make ones up for you all the time.
It snuck up on him but he began missing the smell of your perfume and the way you would play with his hair when the two of you were wrapped up together after incredible sex. Or the sweetness you showed to him even when he was a grumpy ass if he was in the middle of a campaign.
Eddie even missed the way you would excitedly tell him the latest gossip about Jason and his band of buttheads, and he missed the way your eyes lit up and you would smile when Eddie couldn't help but be tender with you, the way he would hold you for a few seconds and feel comfortable and relaxed with you.
Fuck he was a major douchebag.
"I don't know if I can. I messed up and said stupid shit, I made her cry", his hands tighten on his mug as the thought of your tears physically pains him. Wayne gives him a "son, I love you but I'm disappointed with you" look and Eddie's stomach sinks. He hates disappointing Wayne.
"Boy I raised you better than to mess around with girls hearts. You gotta stop moping around and apologise to her for being such an idiot. She obviously means something to you if you're missing her like this"
As always Wayne was right and Eddie was anxiously wondering if you would even accept his apology. Would you move on to Billy who was always flirting with you? Or maybe Steve. Steve didn't make girls cry, he treated them like princesses.
That's what he was going to do with you, treat you like a princess. Swallow his pride and admit he fucked up.
Well if you ever spoke to him again he would.
...
You're late for school on Monday and rush to your locker. It doesn't even register that there's something stuffed into your locker that wasn't there before. Doesn't register until the pretty wildflowers fall to the floor.
Gently you pick them up and find them tied together with a simple black hair tie.
Eddie's hair tie.
🫶
...
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Steve’s dependant and transient relationship with his own beauty according to: his Mom, his dad, people he wants to sleep with, people he doesn’t want to sleep with, his friends, his peers, his basketball coach, and on and on. I feel like Steve has a really warped idea of what he looks like because of his parents ideas about food and exercise and presentation and appearance. He feels the best with Robin or the kids because he can almost forget he has a body, that he’s attractive or not attractive and that people are thinking about how he looks. Because Robin and the kids don’t care at all. He’s always suspicious that adults and peers are judging and critiquing him, or objectifying him, or both. He doesn’t like eating in front of anybody. Sometimes he likes it when he can tell somebody’s attracted to him and sometimes it makes his skin crawl. He loves being beautiful and he likes looking at his own face but he’s scared of being vain and he knows there’s something kind of girlish and embarrassing about it. Something strange and sometimes violent about the way the other boys would pick of him for being a ‘pretty boy’. Like maybe there’s something gay about it, even though it means he fucks a lot of girls. And he likes it when girls look at him and he likes it when women look at him, mostly, although there have been a couple of weird teachers… He’s scared of becoming ugly, suddenly, like in a terrible accident, because it’s pretty much the only thing he has going for him. His face and his body and his lovely hair. He’d like to grow it longer. He’d like to paint his lovely skin and gloss his lovely lips and wear that cami top Robin only puts on to sleep. But he knows that would be the wrong kind of pretty. He’d like not to think about any of it, so he doesn’t- and he doesn’t have to, when he and Robin are chatting shit at work. The ugly way he fits into his uniform melts away and it’s just the two of them laughing until Eddie walks in and looks at Steve and it’s so good and so bad and scary and nice and strange and exciting and awful and Steve shudders back into himself and tries to figure out how to feel…
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Steve loves Valentine’s Day.
It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?
With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.
Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge.
“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”
He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.
“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”
“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”
Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live).
"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night."
“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.)
"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it."
Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!"
She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?"
Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it.
Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly.
"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that.
He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.
Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside.
He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would.
If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.
———
Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.)
He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence.
He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet.
His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure).
The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.
Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan.
He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.
He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day."
Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead.
"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least."
Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again.
"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps.
"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.
They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette.
"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.
Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool."
Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”
Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”
———
Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve.
“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.
“I got you something too,” he says.
“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”
Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.
His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.
But it’s also sparkly.
Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.
“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)
“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.
“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.
———
After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner.
He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).
Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin.
"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot."
(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)
"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping.
"What's the model for?" Steve asks.
Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice.
"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff."
Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.
Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”
Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?"
"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."
“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts.
Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.
“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”
“What is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.
Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."
"So the keychain and the gear..."
"And the feather."
Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly.
Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is.
Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie."
“Uh… sure.”
Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..."
Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?"
"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move."
He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on.
After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house.
Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?”
"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused.
He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.
The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv.
"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?"
"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."
Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”
Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”
Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him.
In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”
Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.
“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”
He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”
“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”
“Oh yeah?”
Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”
Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”
A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.
#steddie#steddie fic#my writing#Valentine’s day ficlet#I’ve been working on this over a week#and still ended up having to rush to finish for today#not real happy with it#I wish I was a faster writer
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AYW!Eddie and Steve debauchery--I cannot get enough of those idiots. What was their friendship like before they each got married and had kids?
You are all in for a wild ride with this one. All humor is courtesy of @munson-blurbs as usual. Please enjoy the chaos that has sprung from our minds!
Warnings: alcohol consumption, stripping, dumb boys
Words: 2.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Eddie had originally never thought he’d have more than one bachelor party in his life because he hadn’t planned on ever getting married more than once. But when the first wife was Brittany, it’s no surprise that marriage didn’t last.
This second bachelor party he’s having is already way more fun and is with people he loves—not that he doesn’t love his high school friends with all his heart. But nothing could beat palling around with his sons.
Wayne sits next to Eddie in the passenger’s seat of the car, while Steve is in the back, squished between Ryan and Luke. The steakhouse they’re going to isn’t far from the apartment and then they’ll be headed to the bowling alley for some friendly competition amongst them.
“This is nice,” Luke says, folding his hands and relaxing them behind his head, “just us guys.”
Eddie chuckles to himself as he pulls into the restaurant’s parking lot. As insane as his first bachelor party had been, it didn’t have the humor that Luke would undoubtedly inject into this evening.
“I would like to order the chicken fingers. Not the ones on the kid’s menu, the ones on the adult menu,” Eddie’s youngest son informs the waitress when she comes to take their orders. Eddie half expects the precocious child to wink at the waitress or call her “doll.”
Eddie can’t stop smiling. Being out with his kids, uncle, and best friend for a nice evening to celebrate his upcoming marriage. To you. The girl of his dreams, the love of his life. How could he not be ecstatic?
Even his bowling game gets off to a good start until Wayne begins to wipe the floor with him. For an old man with arthritis, he’s impressively skilled at bowling.
After Luke’s third gutterball in a row, he huffs a sigh of annoyance and eyes the arcade in the back corner of the bowling alley with interest. Lights flash and whistles blow from the small room, calling like a siren to any child within its grasp. After his big brother has his turn and only manages to knock down two pins, Luke recruits him in asking their dad if they can go into the arcade.
“Sure,” Eddie says. He pulls a twenty out of his wallet and raises his eyebrows at the boys. “This is for you two to share. Evenly. I don’t want any arguing. Capiche?”
“Capiche,” the brothers agree in unison. Ryan takes the twenty from his father and the two kids make their way towards a basketball arcade game, their bowling shoes squeaking on the polished floor beneath them.
Steve eyes the bowling alley around them, his hands on his hips as Eddie bowls a frame behind him. It’s fairly empty, save for a bowling team at the other end of the lanes. Some old 80’s pop is playing dully over the speakers and the scent of beer and French fries stains the air.
“This sure looks a whole lot different than your first bachelor party,” Steve remarks.
Wayne raises an eyebrow at Eddie as he comes back over towards the ball return, keeping an eye out for the twelve-pound blue marbled ball he’s been using.
“Was that the time this knucklehead—” the older man starts to ask, mirth lighting his face.
“Oh yeah,” Eddie says with a bark of laughter. “It sure was.”
November 1988
The Hideout is the same as it always is: dimly lit, every surface sticky with spilled beer, music crackling through ancient speakers. Tonight, however, there’s a liveliness that isn’t usually present.
“Another shot, Harrington?” Jeff calls out, raising two tiny glasses filled with tequila. “Or are you pussing out on us?”
Steve grins and accepts the drink, though he’s already a bit wobbly on his feet. “You wish.” He jabs a playful finger towards the guitarist. “Shot for shot? Winner gets to be the best man.”
“You’re on, man!”
Dustin rolls his eyes, the beer in his hand giving him a false sense of maturity. That, and the wispy mustache he’d been trying to grow out to avoid being carded at the bar. No one had the heart to tell him that The Hideout would probably serve bourbon to a baby.
He leans over and whispers to Eddie. “They don’t know that you already asked me to be the best man?”
“Nah, but don’t say anything. This is entertaining.” Eddie watches as the two men throw back shot after shot, taking a sip of his own rum and Coke.
Steve is ultimately the winner, throwing a fist up in victory. “Looks like I’m the best man,” he gloats, cackling as he practically falls into the booth.
Jeff just shakes his head, balancing on the bartop and silently chastising himself for the loss.
None of the men pay attention when the door swings open. It’s only when the person speaks that their ears perk up.
“Is there an Eddie Munson here?”
Eddie swivels around to see a police officer standing there with her arms crossed. She looks serious, determined, and he combs through any recent activities that would land him in the slammer.
He tries to keep his composure, clearing his throat before saying, “I’m Eddie Munson.”
The officer smiles, sauntering over to him with a stride that Eddie had never seen from a cop before. It isn’t until she’s standing in front of him that he notices the way her cleavage spills out of her low-cut top and the high heels that would render her unable to chase after a real criminal.
Oh, hell yeah.
“I’m afraid you’ve been a bad boy, Eddie,” she coos, tilting his chin up with the pad of her forefinger. “And bad boys get arrested.” She whips out a pair of black fuzzy handcuffs and gestures for him to drag his chair to the center of the room, to which he immediately obliges.
“Okay, which one of you bastards did this?” He says with a giant smirk, only to be met with a disapproving tut from the dancer.
“Eyes on Vanilla, big boy.” She presses a button on her portable CD player and a sensual beat fills the room.
Eddie keeps his gaze trained on her, just as she ordered. He watches as she slowly unbuttons her tiny uniform, her bare breasts spilling out once the final button is opened.
“I think I’m in love,” Steve says from his seat, but Eddie barely registers it. Not when he has a pair of tits in front of him. The Russians could drop an A-bomb and he wouldn’t even notice.
Dustin’s eyes widen as Vanilla reveals her lacy black thong. “Eddie should marry her instead of Brittany,” he muses.
“Not if I marry her first,” Steve quips back.
Vanilla’s bare ass grinds over Eddie’s lap, and he smiles through the arousal kicking up in his pants. He never wants it to end—the dance and the attention. It vaguely occurs to him that his own fiancée doesn’t care this much about his pleasure.
This woman is paid to care, he reminds himself. That’s why.
With one final roll of her hips, the song ends, and Vanilla stands up. She’s flushed from all of the movement, her lipstick slightly smudged from where she’d kissed Eddie’s collarbone.
Steve glides over to her as best as he can in his inebriated state, holding out his hand. “Hi. Steve Harrington. Former Hawkins High swim team co-captain and Keg Stand King.” He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it. “Can I interest you in a shot?”
Enamored by his attempted chivalry, Vanilla blushes and accepts, buttoning herself back into her costume.
“Leave it to Harrington to charm the goddamn stripper,” Eddie mumbles, but he grins as he rejoins the party.
It only takes a few moments before Steve and Vanilla are making out in the corner, just a blur of limbs and tongues. He’s grabbing her ass so tightly that it’ll probably leave bruises, but she certainly isn’t complaining.
“Hey, you guys!” Gareth says, flinging one arm around Eddie and the other around Jeff. “What if we do a little trial run before the big day?”
“The hell are you talking about?” Jeff asks.
Gareth rolls his eyes as though the answer is obvious. “I’m talking about using my new ordination skills on those two lovebirds.” He gestures towards Steve and Vanilla. “That way I’m not as nervous for Eddie’s wedding.”
Too drunk to argue, Eddie shrugs. “S’okay with me if it’s okay with them.”
“Harrington! Vanilla!” Gareth yells far too loudly. “Do you two wanna get hitched?”
Steve pulls away for a second. “Hell yeah!” He calls back, and Vanilla nods emphatically.
“Looks like we’re having a wedding!” Will chimes in. “Okay, let’s make this legit. Everyone needs a role. I’m the wedding planner, of course.” He assigns Eddie the role of Best Man and makes Mike the Maid of Honor. Dougie is the ring bearer, and Lucas volunteers to be the flower girl.
“Erica got to do it when we were kids. Now it’s my turn,” he explains.
Dustin starts walking Vanilla down the aisle, as Jeff plays Here Comes the Bride using the painfully out-of-tune guitar he’d snagged from the bar’s tiny green room. Steve and Gareth wait for Vanilla to join them on the Hideout stage.
“Dearly Beloved,” Gareth begins, “we gather here to wed this man and this bombshell exotic dancer in holy matrimony…shit, we don’t have rings!”
Steve leans back to Eddie. “Is he allowed to say ‘shit?’” He mumbles.
“Guess so. He’s not a priest.”
Gareth shakes off the snafu and continues. “It’s fine; we’ll skip that part.” He turns to Steve. “Do you, King Steve Harrington, take Vanilla to be your wife? In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death do you part—Jesus, that’s dark.”
“I so fuckin’ do.”
“And Vanilla,” Gareth continues, “do you take Steve to be your husband? In sickness and health and all that other bullshit I said before?”
Vanilla smiles drunkenly. “Hell yeah, I do.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” Gareth announces. “You may continue dry humping in the corner. Oh, but first,” he digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out an official looking piece of paper, “I picked up this bad boy today. Let me make sure I get this right. Just need a pen…”
Dustin procures one from the bartender, and Gareth shows the newlyweds where to sign. “Oh, and we need a witness, too. Eddie, c’mere.”
Eddie shuffles over, grinning as he writes his name in sloppy cursive. He’ll have to remind Gareth to get a new license before the actual wedding, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.
“Hey, Steve,” Eddie giggles, “your wife gave me a lap dance.”
“Shut up, Munson. I’m gonna get one later.”
“Thank God for annulments,” Steve says with a sigh.
Eddie grabs his Styrofoam cup of Pepsi resting on the chair next to him. He holds it in the air as he says, “To ending marriages and finding actual love.”
“Hear, hear,” Steve agrees, knocking his own Styrofoam cup against his buddy’s.
Wayne takes a sip from his can of beer, shaking his head in amusement at the pair of them.
“You weren’t with Nancy at the time, were ya?” Wayne asks.
“God, no,” Steve says, shaking his head vehemently. “Was pretty damn funny when she first found out about it though and learned that her brother was the maid of honor.”
“How the hell you got Nancy to marry you is still a mystery to me,” Eddie says with a laugh before lifting his cup up to his lips.
Before Steve can open his mouth to defend his honor (or say the same about Eddie with you), the boys come skipping over, a few skimpy prizes in their hands that they won. The yellow slinky was sure to get lost by tomorrow and the little hot dog shaped whistle was something Eddie was already planning to “misplace.”
“Can we get ice cream?” Ryan asks as the boys switch from their bowling shoes to the sneakers they arrived in.
“That sounds all right to me,” Eddie says.
The rental shoes all get returned at the counter and Luke takes his father’s hand as the gang walks out into the parking lot.
“What flavors are you guys gonna get?” Luke asks.
“Well,” Eddie says, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “I know Uncle Steve will go for Vanilla.”
Steve silently shoots daggers at his friend before replying, “And your dad won’t decide until he gets there because he likes the newest flavors.”
Two soft thuds have Ryan turning around. He sees both his father and uncle holding the back of their heads while his grandfather walks past them, shaking his head.
“Ow,” Eddie complains, but Wayne just ignores him and keeps walking towards the car.
“I’m sitting in the backseat with you two,” Wayne tells the boys. “Probably more mature than these two knuckleheads—Ed, if you grab that man’s nipple one more time, I swear to God, I’ll leave you both here.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#eddie munson imagine#AYW#AYWS#request
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Eddie x reader, Eddie has an older sister who is overprotective of him, and she didn't like cheerleader reader, bc she thought that she was gonna use Eddie, but later, she realizes that reader's a good person and that she loves Eddie
Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3
Big sister
Eddie was chaotic, and loud, and he had no problem running his mouth. Many times he found himself in trouble since he never thought through everything. He ran into things blindly and suffered the consequences. His older sister, Bethany has seen it too many times.
Bethany took care of Eddie as if he were her own. Wayne was busy with work all the time and Bethany took the role of helping Eddie grow up. She was insanely protective of him, and it drove Eddie crazy.
Falling in love was hard for Eddie. He didn't quite understand how it worked, and he never saw it. Bethany had a few guys around but they weren't ever good guys. They were just like their dad and Eddie hated it. But the second they landed a hand on Eddie, Bethany had them out the door in seconds. She watched girls around Eddie like a hawk. She often scared them away before Eddie could ever have a real relationship. But he learned this time.
He met Y/N in class, and he felt an instant connection. He found his eyes wandering off to her without his control. He perked up when he heard her voice or laugh. To his luck, the teacher rearranged the seats. She landed right next to him and Eddie thanked whoever was above.
"I'm Y/N!" Her voice was chirpy and soft. Eddie found himself easily talking to her. He spent years being bullied in school, and years of people running away. The feeling of someone wanting to talk to him was different.
They got to know each other more and more in class. He outed himself as a dealer and she was looking for one. They would sneak off to the woods and do a deal. Skipping class as they got lost in talking to each other. Sometimes they meet after school to hang out and smoke together. Eddie found a friend.
~~~
Once he started truly falling for her, he made sure Bethany didn't know about her. He didn't want Bethany to scare Y/N away. Their hangouts turned into dates. Their friendly chatter turned into flirting.
Bethany was suspicious of why her brother stayed out late and always came home with a smile. He used to come home right after school, stomping in his bedroom, and didn't come out until dinner. But now he didn't come home until after dinner, skipping to his room for the night.
~~~
After Eddie and Y/N made it official, she asked to meet his family. She noticed how nervous he got, the way his palms got sweaty and his breathing picked up.
Eddie took the time to describe his fear of her meeting Bethany. She understood his side but also Bethany's side.
"Let me meet her and show her that I won't hurt you. I know she wants to protect you and I want to prove you're in good hands. I love you." She whispered. Her hand holding his as he played through it in his head.
~~~
Eddie and Bethany prepared dinner as Y/N was on her way. Eddie wanted the extra time to talk with Bethany so he offered Y/N to drive herself over.
But no amount of talking with Bethany would make her act any different. She was already set on chasing Y/N away.
Y/N knocked on the door, a bouquet in her hand. She wore her best outfit and made sure she looked presentable. She truly wanted to make a good impression.
Eddie opened the door, a nervous smile on his face as he welcomed her inside. Bethany stood in the kitchen with her arms crossed.
"These are for you," Y/N said nervously, handing her the flowers. She flinched as Bethany harshly grabbed the flowers, the paper crinkling.
Y/N coughed awkwardly, looking at Eddie. He gave her a small smile and led her to the table. All three sat down and began to dig into the dinner.
"This is so good!" Y/N complimented, her leg bouncing. Eddie's soft hand landed on her knee.
"Thank you. It's Bethany's recipe." Eddie said. Y/N smiled at the information, looking at Bethany.
"You are quite the chef."
"Well you have to learn to cook otherwise Eddie and I would never have been fed," Bethany said.
Y/N slowly nodded, she wasn't sure what to say. She knew she was fortunate, she didn't struggle for food. And she didn't want to act like she did understand.
"Just take the compliment." Eddie spat, glaring at Bethany.
"Do you know he deals weed?" Bethany asked, her eyes heating on Y/N.
"I do. It doesn't bother me. I smoke as well. As long as he's safe and smart during his deals, I don't mind." Y/N said, Eddie smiled at her. He patted her knee softly as a good job.
"Oh, you smoke? So do you pay for Eddie's weed?" Bethany asked. Eddie quickly glared at her, he had a feeling where this was going.
"Um I did in the beginning, but once we started dating I stopped. His request." Y/N explained.
"Right....nice and convenient that your boyfriend has countless amounts of weed. And you get it all for free." Bethany said, her voice accusing.
"I'm sorry, am I missing something?" Y/N laughed awkwardly. Both siblings glared at each other, and Y/N looked between the two.
"Are you fucking my brother for free weed?" Y/N choked lightly on her drink. Not expecting Bethany to think of her so poorly.
"No! I adore Eddie. I have no issues with paying for the weed and I never had an issue. He doesn't take my money. " Y/N explained the best she could. She kept her voice low and polite.
Eddie was seething next to her, her hand reaching for his under the table. She rubbed his hand with her thumb to try to relax him.
"Have you guys fucked?"
"Bethany!"
"Answer the question, Eddie." Bethany scolded.
"No, we haven't. She wants to wait." Eddie explained, Y/N shrunk in her seat. She felt uncomfortable with the new topic.
"So she's dating you for the weed." Bethany accused. Y/N wanted to speak up but the glare Bethany sent her made Y/N sink further in her seat.
"No, she's not. She already fucking told you she's not using me." Eddie fought back.
"Open your eyes, Eddie! Look at her and then you. Do you think she loves you?" Bethany scoffed.
Y/N refused to stay quiet about that, she didn't want anyone to ever doubt her love for Eddie.
"Bethany, I truly love your brother. I know you and Eddie have struggled, and you've done so much for him. I understand you want to protect him. But I promise he doesn't need protection from me. I want to make him happy and take care of him. I understand your hesitation, but could I try to show you that I simply want to be with Eddie because I'm in love?" Y/N said. Her words silenced the table.
Eddie looked down at the table, a smile on his face and blush on his cheeks. He's heard her say she loved him over and over. But hearing her say how she was in love with him to someone else felt different. It felt more real. She wasn't scared to tell anyone she loved him.
Bethany wasn't sure what to say. She was almost stunned. She's never had a girl fight so hard for Eddie, most girls ran out in tears and gave up before the plate was finished.
But there Y/N sat, hopeful eyes staring into her.
"Eddie, do you love her?" Bethany asked, her eyes moving to Eddie. Y/N snapped her eyes to Eddie as well.
"Of course I do," Eddie admitted instantly.
Bethany sighed. She cleaned off her hand and reached across the table.
"Bethany Munson. It's a pleasure to meet Eddie's girlfriend."
Y/N smiled and shook Bethany's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
~~~
At the end of the night, Eddie walked Y/N to her car.
"I did it!" Y/N cheered, holding Eddie's hand as she swung it back and forth.
"You did. I'm so proud of you." Eddie praised, kissing her cheek.
"She's scary, but she means well," Y/N said, unhooking their hands as she unlocked her car.
"I know, she just doesn't do it in the best ways. It means a lot you wanted to meet her." Eddie admitted.
"I'm proud of you for doing this for us. I know you were very nervous. But I won't let her scare me away from you. I love you, handsome." She said, reaching forward to kiss him.
He smiled against her lips and kissed her back.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson fluff x female reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson angst#ashwhowrites#eddie munson angst to fluff
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I could teach you waking up in my t-shirt.
also on ao3 (preferred format) 2.3k Words
Steve Harrington has a really cool T Shirt.
It was the exact type of shirt no one would expect him to wear, it was soft, and worn, and the design looked hand made, and sometimes there was a long, dark, curly, strand of hair stuck to it, like the person who made it left a piece of themselves there.
Dustin didn’t know where he got it, or how someone like Steve came across a shirt like this, but any time he asked about it, the teen got… Defensive.
Once Dustin asked Steve if he could borrow it, and Steve freaked out, like properly freaked out. So he stopped asking about it. It was a little strange how protective Steve was over the shirt, and how he never seemed to wear it to school, or outside of his house. He had to wear it somewhere though, because more often than not that long, dark, hair would be present, and Dustin knows for a fact Steve washes the shirt.
So where did he get it?
What exactly does “HellFire Club” mean?
Is it a band?
And Dustin asked all these questions only to be met with a nervous silence from Steve, which was unlike him. So, he stopped asking. There were more pressing matters than Steve’s shirt, like demodogs and Russians under the mall, and the fact that the girl Steve works with somehow knows him better than Dustin, all of a sudden.
He’s not jealous, though. Well. Not that jealous. But why does she get to know where the shirt came from, and not him? It’s Steve’s biggest mystery, and it was well kept. At least, well kept from him. He remembers the day clearly. He walked into Scoops Ahoy with Steve who already happened to be in his work uniform. He usually changes at work to avoid walking through the mall looking like a Naval monstrosity. He watches the way Robin Buckley smirks, like she’s let in on a secret, “No Hellfire shirt today, Steve-o? Trouble in paradise?” she asks slyly. “Haha. Shut up, Robin.” Steve replies through his teeth, strained. Dustin whips his head around to face Steve. “You talked to her about the shirt? C’mon, Steve! We’re friends!” Dustin whined. Steve pushed his head away, “You’re like, 5, this is grown up talk. Now get back to your mom, she’s gonna freak if you’re late for camp check in.” Dustin sighed, “Whatever. See you later, Steve!” They hugged briefly and Dustin left, the shirt and what Robin Buckley said about it, still rocking around in his brain.
But then Dustin got back from camp, with a big ass ham radio, a new, very real, girlfriend, and a Russian interception. And suddenly, the t-shirt didn’t seem all that important. In fact, Dustin forgot about it until one fateful day.
The first day of highschool.
There he was in all his glory.
Eddie Munson, and guess what he was wearing.
The shirt.
Steve’s shirt.
So Dustin made it a point to seek the guy out, and in his mission he found that HellFire was not a band, but a DnD club. And that only made him more confused, did Steve secretly belong to a party? And that’s why he never played with them? No way. The betrayal.
So, Dustin infiltrates the group.
Along with Mike, and Lucas.
Because it’s a DnD group, and well… Will’s gone, and they still wanted to play.
And they become a part of the group.
It’s fun, and the way Steve’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees all of them wearing his shirt is absolutely hilarious.
Dustin keeps the whole “shirt debacle” to himself. He knows that Steve was in HellFire and didn’t tell any of them. He decided to let him keep his dignity, and put the whole mystery behind him. The only strange thing was, that whenever he brought up Steve during their sessions, the rest of Hellfire got… Weird. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant would smile slyly in Eddie’s direction and Eddie would blush. Did they have some type of falling out? Eddie never seemed to want to talk about Steve, and Steve never seemed to want to talk about Eddie OR HellFire. Why were they pretending not to know each other? It was weird.
Steve would pick them up from sessions, he and Eddie would share a short wave back and forth, and that was the end of it. It was still weird that Eddie’s hair seemed to get tangled in Steve’s shirt, even though Steve didn’t go to the meetings anymore. In fact, now that Dustin joined, Steve didn’t seem to wear the shirt at all anymore.
So another mystery was upon him.
But then a cheerleader died, and no one could find Eddie.
And all of a sudden his face was plastered on the news, his name becoming synonymous with ‘Satan’ and ‘murderer’ which Dustin thought was ridiculous. Eddie Munson was not a violent person, not by any means, in real life. As a dungeon master he could be pretty merciless, but. That was just a game.
And the newest mystery revolving around Steve and Eddie was put on the back burner.
They found Eddie a few hours later in Reefer Rick’s boathouse, a suggestion made by Steve, the stress too high to consider how he could even know that. But then there was a bottle pressed to his jugular and sorry Eddie, but he needs Steve alive for this. So he pleads until Eddie drops the bottle, Steve’s eyes reading more concern than fear, but Dustin would think about that later. He watches Eddie as Eddie watches Steve be comforted by Robin, wiping the stray tears away, looking back at Eddie with a look that Dustin thought Steve could only give to girls…
Unfortunately, as entertaining as it was, Steve’s love life was not the hot topic of the moment. So he moved on, and the events unfolded in succession of disaster, like they usually do when the upside down rears its ugly head. And all of a sudden Steve is telling them not to be cute, and Eddie says ‘Make him Pay,’ in a tone that anyone could hear, means something different.
—
Nancy delivered the final blow, and Vecna was down. But there was a pit in Steve’s stomach. Something was very, very wrong. So he ran. Nancy and Robin were hot on his heels, shouting for him to slow down but he couldn’t. The scene came into view and Steve couldn’t breathe. Dustin was sobbing over Eddie’s prone body, bats from hell surrounding them.
Steve could only run faster, he reached them, dropping to his knees.
“Eds,”
“Stevie,”
“Don’t do that Munson. We’re getting you out of here. I swear to god. If you die, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
And through his grief clouded brain, Dustin knew Steve meant what he said.
From that moment on it was a blur, Nancy and Robin helped Dustin limp towards the gate, only looking back to see Steve lifting Eddie from the ground in what looked like sheer will. They’re going to make it out. He can feel it. He’s got to figure out the mystery. And maybe that was a stupid thought, but he was only 15, and that was what gave him hope.
The gate that split in the Munson trailer was beginning to close, and it was a fight to get through, Dustin didn’t get to see the end though, because when his broken leg was met with the force of hitting the right side up, he passed out.
—
He woke to a steady beep and a pressure holding his leg in place.
He cracked open his eyes to see his mom sitting in the plastic hospital chair next to his bed, reading a book.
“Mom?”
“Dusty,” She gasped, pressing the Call button, and reaching to grab his hand.
“E- Eddie?”
“I- I’m sorry baby.” And for a second, Dustin’s heart dropped, “He’s still in surgery. That earthquake really did a number on him. The doctors think he’s going to pull through.” Dustin breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, and Steve was admitted for his wounds. He’s in the next room over. They’re going to put Eddie with him as soon as he’s in the clear, Steve’s request.” With the news that his friends were okay, and the soothing motion of his mom brushing her hand through his hair, he fell asleep. The next time he woke up it was by a doctor, getting him ready to be discharged with strict orders of rest.
He ended up moving from his room, to making a home in Steve’s room.
It was weird to see Steve in the hospital, unmoving, hair flat against his forehead. It almost brought tears to his eyes to think about his brother like that, the only thing keeping him together was that Steve was here, awake, and the heart monitor’s beeps were steady and reassuring.
—-
It had been a few days, Steve’s wounds were healing nicely, and he was allowed to go home.
Eddie had been cleared from the ICU and moved to a long stay ward.
He was still asleep, but the doctors said that was his body’s way of healing. That’s what they said about Max too. They were confident both of them would eventually wake up.
Dustin had expected to see Steve around the hospital after his discharge, checking Max, and keeping up with his own check ups. What he didn’t expect to see was him and Eddie’s uncle Wayne in what looked like a heartfelt embrace. He didn’t really mean to eavesdrop, but he also didn’t move away. “He’s gonna wake up, son. I know he’s strong. And I know you’ll be right there waitin’ for him.” Wayne's gruff voice floated through the quiet hospital. Dustin didn’t realize Steve knew Wayne like that but, he guesses it’s from Steve’s secret HellFire days.
He shook off the initial confusion and went to join the two men in Eddie’s room. They would sit and talk. Talk about Eddie, Steve’s interactions with weird customers, how Wayne was settling in to the new government provided house. Anything. Just to fill the room with sound, to let Eddie know they were there when he was ready to wake up.
Dustin knew it was going to be an emotional day when Eddie woke up for real.
He’d been opening his eyes, and saying one word responses for about a week now, and the doctors predicted he’d be starting to wake up for longer periods of time real soon.
“S-tv?”
“Eddie! You’re awake, do you feel okay, can I get you any-”
“Slow down, boy.” Wayne said, resting a hand on his shoulder, Dustin pausing as he does. “Any pain, Ed?”
“No,”
“Good. They got you on the good stuff.” Wayne chuckled.
“Steve?” Eddie mumbled, and Dustin was confused for a moment, but he thought that Eddie was probably concerned about the guy that carried him out of hell. Dustin watched as Wayne smiled, “Your boys gone to get some coffee and chips for the kid and I. He’ll be back real soon.” His boy? Interesting…
Dustin was close to figuring out the mystery, there was just one thing he was missing. He knew these things took time, but this was taking forever, when was he going to figure this out? And right as he finished that thought, Steve walked in. He handed Wayne his coffee and tossed Dustin his chips, floating around the room on autopilot. Wayne and Eddie both watched with familiar fondness, as though they had seen this before. Steve finally let his eyes drift over to Eddie, who was wide awake now, smiling in his direction. “Eddie.” He breathed, eyes wide.
“Hey, Stevie.”
“Oh, you bastard! I told you not to be cute! I told you,” Steve’s voice cracked,
“C’mere.”
Steve slumped over to Eddie, basically crawling into the bed with him, and cried against his chest. Dustin felt as though the solution to the mystery was about to be revealed, were they related? No way. Best friends? Secret Best friends? Perhaps…
“I told you,”
“I know you did, baby.”
Wait. Baby?
And y’know, he shouldn’t have been so surprised at what happened next.
“I hate you,”
“No you don’t.”
“You’re right,” Steve sighed, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, savoring the sweet reunion. That is until Dustin breathed in sharply, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb them, but instead choked on a piece of potato chip. He coughed and hacked, and Wayne clapped him on the back and handed him some water, and there was snot and tears running down his face. “Sorry,” He said hoarsely, still partially choking. “I didn't mean to ruin the moment I just-” Steve cut him off with a smile, “You finally put two and two together, huh? Guess I owe you five bucks, Eds.” Dustin watched them carefully. “What?” He asked, only slightly embarrassed at the implication that the two had bet on him.
“Me and Stevie bet that it’d take us kissing in front of you for you to figure out we’re together. He thought you’d figure it out before that.” Eddie said, smiling through his words.
“I thought you were smarter than that, Dust. You really let me down,” Steve teased.
Eddie sighed, “When you saw me in the shirt I thought I had lost for sure, but you never really said anything about it.”
“I thought that Steve might’ve been secretly a part of HellFire…” He trailed, looking down sheepishly.
Wayne barked out a laugh, “It’s okay, kid. I was bettin’ that you’d figure it out at their weddin.’”
And Dustin gasped at that. “Mr. Uncle Wayne, I'm hurt,” He said dramatically, a hand clutching at his chest. Wayne sighed, “Boy, you are just about as bad as Eddie.”
And both Steve and Wayne shared a good, long laugh when Eddie and Dustin let out simultaneous “Hey!”s. Dustin shook his head, but let a smile rest on his face. This was a better outcome than he could’ve hoped for.
And if he’d heard Steve and Eddie’s “I love you’s” whispered back and forth as they all settled in for sleep, well.
He’d just keep that to himself.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#dustin henderson#supportive dustin henderson#awesome dustin henderson#eddie my beloved#steddie#steddie fic#eddie lives au#steddie fanfic#eddie lives#secret steddie#secret relationship#hidden steddie#steve/eddie#stranger things#stranger things fic#soft eddie munson#soft steve harrington#insufferable dustin henderson#meddler dustin henderson#wayne knows about steddie#supportive wayne munson#wayne munson#steve my beloved#wayne munson is a good dad
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A Situation
Pairing: Eddie Munson x You
Summary: There's only one thing in the world that could make Eddie turn Evil Woman Action down… and it's down there.
Contains: Embarrassment, vague mentions of an uncomfortable development in a sensitive area, lying, angry eating, Uncle Wayne being glad he doesn't have the full story, kind of a fight, eventual reconciliation… oh, and some good old-fashioned fruit-fucking.
Words: 2.4k
Note: Youths and ageless blogs, DNI. Writer will block your ass.
Other Note: This will never come close to My Beloved Melon Fic, but @fictionaldaze bullied me into another fruit fic anyway. Enjoy! 😂
"Hey," she purrs. Wrapping her arms around his waist. Nuzzling her face into his chest. Breathing out a satisfied sigh that permeates his t-shirt and warms his skin more than the afternoon sun beaming down in the parking lot of Hawkins High.
Eddie relaxes into her and inhales deeply, getting a heavenly whiff of his favorite smell: his one and only.
"Wanna go fool around?" she mumbles.
Eddie feels his dick twitch at the suggestion. No! Stop that!
"Uh… can't today. Promised Wayne I'd scrub the bathroom." Right. Bathroom. Cleaning. Scum in the tub. Hair in the drain. Things that are not at all sexy.
"Need help?" She would really help him with this? That's so sex--NO. Not sexy! Plunger! Wads of slimy hair! The smells!
"Nah, wouldn't want to subject you to that."
She sighs, but it's not the good kind of sigh. She's getting mad. This is the third time this week that he's rejected her advances. And he feels terrible about it. But it's for her own good! Really!
There's something going on down there. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't know why it's there. He doesn't know how he got it. But he knows that it's ruining his fucking life.
Is it a disease? A rash? Something he picked up in the locker room? Or The Hideout's bathroom, which hasn't been cleaned since 1959? It looks a little less horrifying that it did yesterday, but what if it's a fake-out? What if that's what it wants him to think? What if it's contagious? What if he gave it to her? He'd never forgive himself.
He'd picked up the phone to call the free clinic three times. Once, he even dialed a few numbers before hanging up. He was too ashamed to show anyone, even if they could help him. He'd rather just let his dick fall off and die horny and alone.
"What's with you this week? You're usually all over me, but you have now turned me down THREE times. What are you, on the rag?" She's pulled away. She's glaring. Not good.
"I'm just… not in the mood," he lies, rubbing the back of his neck.
She rolls her eyes and starts walking in the other direction.
"I thought I was taking you home?"
"Not in the mood," she yells without looking back.
Fuck.
Eddie watches her stomp onto the big yellow school bus that she loathes. Oh, boy, is he in for it.
Stop that, he grumbles at himself, adjusting the front of his jeans with a wince as he hops into his van. He speeds home wondering what's more likely to happen first; his dick shriveling up and falling off, or his girl getting mad enough to rip it off and feed it to him. Either way, he's fucking doomed.
When he gets home, he enters quietly, hoping not to disturb a snoring Wayne. He steps into the bathroom to rid himself of the Mountain Dew he sucked down at lunch… and glares at the object of his ruination. Betrayed by his own cock. He sighs at the sight of it - although it does look less alarming than it did yesterday - and after a gentle shake, stuffs it back into his boxers with a hiss.
Eddie's stomach rumbles while he's washing his hands. Don't want that spreading, he thinks as he dries his hands on his shirt. He tiptoes to the kitchen and stares into the pathetically stocked cabinets, hoping for a snack to present itself. He never had this problem at her house. As soon as they got there, she'd throw a bunch of seemingly random stuff together and turn it into something creative that he'd happily bust a gut on… if Gareth would let him.
Shit. Forgot he was supposed to take some of the guys home. It's literally why they were there, loitering in the parking lot instead of peeling out of Hawkins High like two bats outta hell.
Eddie sighs and reaches for a can of pineapple. He'll save the Spaghetti-O's for dinner. And definitely go buy some damn groceries tomorrow.
He grabs the dull can opener, and after a fight, finally gets the top most of the way off. He bends it out of his way and grabs a fork from the dish drainer, leaning up against the kitchen counter to eat right there and reflect on what a shit-show his life has become.
She bought him the pineapple. And the fruit cocktail he ate a few days ago. And the green beans Wayne heated up for dinner last night. Just walked right in and started putting away groceries and lecturing him on "vitamins" and "minerals" and "eating a damn vegetable every once in a while."
He'd blushed and thanked her at the time, but now he wishes he could thank her over the kitchen table. Hard. Deep. Fuck. Stop it!
He stabs a ring of pineapple and lifts it out of the can, letting it drip for a second before tilting his head back and cramming the circle into his mouth. He stares at the takeout coupons on the fridge as he chews, wishing anything sounded appealing right now.
He'll never get to thank her properly ever again. Not that he'd have a reason to, since he'd rejected her so many times, she didn't even want him anymore. What an idiot. He had one thing going for him, and his dick fucked it all up.
He stabs another ring and lifts it to his mouth, spilling the juice down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and chews angrily.
Why does his mouth feel weird?
Eddie looks at the can. Ingredients: Pineapple. Pineapple juice. This isn't any different than the other can, is it?
Oh.
He didn't exactly eat the other can.
He'd opened the can a few nights ago, being unable to find any proper junk food as a midnight snack, and after he got the lid off... he looked down to see a perfect hole just waiting for him.
He'd been all alone. So lonely. Thinking about his girl.
A strong man would've been able to say no to that perfect hole.
But Eddie Munson was not a strong man.
But after… wait.
Is this it?
Is he allergic to pineapple?
Did he stick his dick in something he's fucking allergic to?
The realization makes him choke. He coughs, leaning over the kitchen sink as chunks of yellow devil-fruit fly out of his mouth at high speeds.
"Y'alright, boy?"
Shit. He woke Wayne up.
Eddie tries to answer, but it kicks off another coughing fit.
When he finally catches his breath and rinses the sink out, he turns… to see Wayne sitting at the table.
"I taught you to chew before you swallow, right?"
"Yes," Eddie sighs with a roll of his eyes. And then he remembers what set him off. "Can you be allergic to pineapple?"
"Is that what you were choking on?"
"Yeah."
"You ate fruit voluntarily?"
"For the very last time. Am I allergic?"
"Mouth feel weird?"
Eddie nods.
"Bromelain."
"What?"
"Bromelain. Meat tenderizer."
"I didn't eat any freakin' meat tenderizers!"
"It's in the pineapple. That's what makes your mouth feel weird. Something with the enzymes trying to bite back or something, I don't know. Used to bother your grandma real bad."
"So it's genetic? I'm allergic?"
"Can you breathe?"
"Yeah."
"Just a weird feelin'?"
"Yeah," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably.
"You'll be fine. It'll ease up when you quit eatin' it."
Son of a bitch.
"Wayne, I gotta go. Sorry for waking you up."
"Almost time to get up anyway. Stop by the store on your way back."
"I will," Eddie says, darting around Wayne and grabbing his keys.
A knock on your bedroom door interrupts your wallowing.
"No," you grumble into your pillow. When the bus dropped you off a few minutes ago, you'd walked straight to your bed and fallen into it face-first. You hadn't moved since.
You'd spent the loud and bumpy ride home wondering why Eddie didn't want you anymore. You don't know what changed. He was always ready to go at the drop of a hat. Hell, he'd get horny if the wind changed directions and blew against him just right. And then, all of a sudden… nothing. Even when you made the first move - which he used to love - you got shut down. What was the fucking problem?
You hear your door open, and wish you had the energy to throw something at your dumb brother.
But Eddie is the one who crawls into bed next to you.
You don't want to look at him. You turn your head so you're facing the other direction.
"I brought you a flower."
"Kay."
"I stole it from Mrs. Wallace's garden."
You smile, even though he can't see you. Mrs. Wallace is the old bat down the street from him who's always yelling at kids for playing too loudly and creating a public nuisance. Like her screeching isn't a public nuisance of its own. It's a wonder she has any blooms left, with all her spite-pickers.
"I love you," he says.
"Doesn't feel like it."
Eddie sighs a deep sigh.
"What changed?"
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"I mean, a week ago, you were practically humping my leg every time we got a second alone together. Now it's like…"
"It's not like that."
"What's it like, then?"
"I had… I had kind of a scare."
He pauses so long, you prod him with a "Continue."
"I had kind of a situation down there and I thought something was wrong but it's getting better and I didn't want to freak you out."
You turn your head back toward Eddie, who is lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "A situation?" you ask.
"It was nothing, it's getting better, everything's okay, it'll be back to normal in a few days."
"A situation like a zit, or a situation like something you need to go to the clinic for?"
His face goes red. Your blood turns to lava. You prop yourself up on your elbows and glare down at him.
"Because I know I'm clean, and since you were a fucking virgin when we met, there is no reason for you to--"
"It's not that!" he cuts you off.
"Because if it's that, you need to tell me right the fuck now."
"It's not!"
"Then what the fuck is it, Eddie?!"
He brings his hands to his face and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"Eddie!"
"I…" he squirms. "Did something stupid."
"How stupid?" you spit.
"So stupid we're gonna laugh about it one day."
"Spit it out, fucker."
He spreads his hands to cover more of his face.
"Eddie," you warn him.
He slowly drags his fingers down his face and exhales.
"Ifuckedacanofpineapple."
"What?"
He winces.
"I fucked a can of pineapple."
He… what?
"And apparently there's something in pineapple that I'm allergic to or something? Wayne said my grandma had it too. But it fucked me up for a few days and getting hard hurt so fucking bad and that's why I've been distant but it's getting better and it's gonna be fine."
You stay silent for a minute, trying to process Eddie's confession. How the fuck… why the fuck… how?
"You fucked a can of pineapple?"
Eddie rubs his face. "Yeah."
"How?"
"I just… don't make me say it."
"Oh, you're gonna say it," you tell him, turning to lie on your side. "I need details. I need to know everything."
"No you don't."
"Eddie, I have never wanted to understand something so desperately in my life. Explain it, or we're going into the kitchen for a demonstration."
"No!" he barks, instinctively drawing his legs up and covering his crotch.
"Explain!"
He whines, and he squirms, and he looks at you pathetically. But you're far too curious to let this slide. Eddie pulls the pillow out from under his head and covers his face with it.
"Edward."
He lets out a long groan, and eventually moves the pillow out of his face. He hugs it to his chest.
"I was high and bored and lonely and hungry and I figured I'd try it so I could tell you I ate fruit and you'd be proud of me and stuff and I got the top off and there was just this… big… wet… hole? UGH!" Eddie groans and flips over to his stomach, taking the pillow with him to cover his head. You watch him wallow in his misery, becoming more amused by the second.
"Oh my god," you say in wonder. "I'm in love with a moron who literally fucked a can of pineapple."
Eddie tilts his head just enough so that you can make out his mumble: "I took it out."
"Took what out?"
"The can had sharp edges. I took out the pineapple and put it in a sour cream container before…"
You snort. He hides his face again, and you picture Eddie Munson dumping a can of pineapple rings into an old sour cream container the Munsons use as Tupperware and going to town on it. Right there in the kitchen. Sloshing pineapple juice down his legs and the cabinets and onto the floor.
You lose it. You cackle until your sides ache and tears stream down your face. You wipe them away with the backs of your hands, and look to Eddie. He's less red, but still clearly embarrassed as he stares at the ceiling.
"I take it you're not mad?" he asks.
"That you cheated on me with a can of fruit?" Another giggle fit erupts, and he lays there calmly while it passes. "Sorry," you say finally. "So you're allergic to pineapple?"
"I think it's safe to say that it's not something I'll be trying again anytime soon."
"What did it do to you?" you ask curiously.
"It kinda… it… uh… wasn't pretty."
"Can I see it?"
"No."
"Are you okay?"
"Will be."
You scooch closer, and he holds out his arm so you can snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest and slide your hand across his stomach until it reaches the other side.
"I'm glad you're okay," you say quietly. Eddie's hand begins stroking up and down your back. A thought occurs to you, and you smirk. "But it serves you right for trying to cheat on me with a can of fruit."
#writings of despair#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x evil woman#got a problem? take it up with fictionaldaze.
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Daddy, I’m Yours
A/N: please comment and reblog! I love this man and no one can convince me otherwise.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader
Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, smut, mentions of pregnancy, jealousy
Summary: you and Eddie weren’t together, you weren’t even really friends, but when he heard you call Steve Harrington daddy in front of your friends he couldn’t stop the anger from boiling up inside of him. He wanted to hear that word fall from your lips while he filled you, claiming you as his own.
“Are you serious, Erica? Hellfire Club?” Being Erica Sinclair’s babysitter was no easy feat, especially when she would drag you to different places and events. Tonight was no different, her brothers friends requesting her presence at their game club.
“Yes, (Y/N), I’m serious. You don’t have to come, ya know?” She snapped. She was right, you didn’t. She was old enough and lord knows she was mature enough to not have a babysitter but you liked the money and honestly you liked her as well.
“Yeah well I’ll probably go over to the basketball game anyway,” you said. You followed her into a back room in the school where a group of guys were already waiting. You noticed most of them from your class, including the infamous Eddie Munson. You had been paired with him on a few projects over the years and he would always tease you and take any chance he could get to fluster you.
“Well well well, look who it is. You just can’t resist me, can you, sweetheart?” He asked with a wide grin.
“You wish, Munson. I’m just dropping off the munchkin for your game night,” you laughed.
“You can stay if you want. To play or just to watch, ogle me from across the room, undress me with your eyes.” He wriggled his eyebrows and Dustin fake puked in the corner.
“Um, hello! There are children present!” Erica yelled.
“My apologies, lady applejack,” Eddie bowed.
“Alright, weirdos. I’ll be back after the basketball game,” you said. They all waved goodbye and Eddie sent you a wink on your way out.
You weren’t the biggest sports fan, but it was the championship game and you didn’t have anything better to do. You sat with a few of your friends and tried your best to follow the game.
Hawkins won and everyone went nuts. You and your friends were invited to a party but you declined, stating that you had to bring Erica home after her campaign. Your friends hung out with you outside while you waited for her.
“Did you see who was here tonight?” Leah asked.
“Umm King Steve himself? Yeah!” Rachel smiled. Everyone had a crush on Steve and all the ladies were happy when he decided to stick around after graduating.
“He’s definitely daddy material,” you added with a laugh. Steve was cute, not really your type, but still cute.
“Talking about me, (Y/N)?” Eddie asked, coming around the corner and scaring you into a jump.
“Steve Harrington, actually,” Leah said with an annoying tone to her voice. Eddie’s smile instantly turned to a scowl. You knew they didn’t like Eddie so you told them you were fine now and they could go. You never understood why everyone hated him so much but he also didn’t help himself with how he acted sometimes.
“So you have a thing for the hair, huh?” Eddie asked with a clenched jaw.
“Oh, um, he’s alright, I guess. He just came tonight so the girls were all giggling over him.”
“You included I see,” he send almost cynically. You shrugged and hoped he’d drop the topic. Luckily Erica and the other members came out to join you.
“Let’s go before these nerds rub off on us, (Y/N),” Erica said.
“You’re literally a nerd too,” Dustin sighed. Erica just glared at him and grabbed your hand to pull you to your car.
“Bye guys,” you said, turning back to wave at them. Most of them smiled as they said goodbye but Eddie looked pissed almost. You wondered what had gotten into him.
Whenever you saw him over the next few days, you caught him already staring. You’d always try to offer a smile or a small wave to which he usually tried to return, but you could tell something was off. Dustin had even told you he’d been moodier than normal and no one could figure out why.
A few days later, you decided to go to the video store and pick up a few movies for the weekend. Your parents were going out of town and you didn’t have to babysit so you had plenty of time to kill.
The store was pretty empty, only one person working the counter- and that person was none other than Steve Harrington. He didn’t fluster you like the other girls so it didn’t really bother you much when he threw on his Harrington charm, if you could even call it that.
“Hey, (Y/N), right? You’re a senior at Hawkins?” He asked with a smile.
“Yeah, that’s me! Did we ever have class together?" You definitely would’ve remembered having class with him but you were just curious as to how he knew your name.
“No, but I make it my mission to know the names of all the pretty ladies,” he said.
“So I’ve heard,” you chuckled. His smile fell and he backtracked.
“No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, kinda? But you’ve heard about me? What have you heard?”
“Do you always ramble like this with the ladies?” You asked, laughing even harder. He just frowned and nodded. “I can see why you’re not having much luck.”
“Some ladies find it to be incredibly attractive!” He defended himself.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Steve.” Both of your attentions turned to the door and your eyes lit up. But your smile soon fell when you noticed a very confused and angry looking Eddie standing in the doorway. Steve looked between the two of you and coughed awkwardly.
Eddie walked around the store, glancing back at you every so often. Steve finished checking out your videos just as Eddie walked to the counter.
“Munson, yeah?”
“Harrington,” Eddie said with a nod.
“Do you make it your mission to also know all the pretty guys’ names too?” You asked, smirking at Steve who just rolled his eyes. “Might help out your chances if you double your odds.”
“You’re hilarious, (Y/N),” Steve said dryly, but there was humor in his eyes.
“Either get a room or check me out, for the love of god,” Eddie snapped. Both of you looked at him with shock.
“Don’t be a dick, Munson,” you sighed. You gave Steve an apologetic smile before turning to Eddie and glaring at him. He had no right to be rude to either of you.
“Have a good night, (Y/N),” Steve said quietly as you walked out the door. Eddie’s eyes followed you the entire way but Steve’s eyes stayed studying him. A knowing smile crept onto his face. “She’s all yours, man.”
“Excuse me?” Eddie asked. Steve put his movies into a bag and slid it over to him.
“(Y/N), I’m not interested. Even if I was, she definitely isn’t. So go for it because you obviously want to.”
“I’m supposed to take dating advice from you?” Eddie scoffed.
“Hey, man, I’m just throwing it out there. I saw how she looked when you initially walked in here. Anyway, have a good night. Enjoy your movies.” Steve went to the back room, leaving Eddie standing there speechless.
Did you like him? You were always friendly toward him and went along with his teasing. He couldn’t hide the anger he felt when he heard you gushing about Steve to your friends and even more so when he saw the two of you together, confirming his fears.
He was no Steve Harrington. He was the freak. The weirdo. That was usually enough to scare away any woman so why did he think you would be interested in him? He still didn’t like the way Steve looked at you, but maybe there wasn’t much to worry about after all.
The next evening, he called an emergency Hellfire meeting. He made up some bullshit just in hopes that you’d be bringing the Sinclairs. When they arrived without you, his heart sank.
“No (Y/N)? She is an honorary member, after all,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate.
“She’s picking us up. My mom called her last minute because I guess they had a work thing my dad forgot about,” Lucas said.
“Hitch a ride home with Garret, yeah? I’d like a word with (Y/N).”
“Are you going to kill her and chop her up into a million pieces and dump her into lovers lake?” Erica asked, staring Eddie down.
“That’s quite the description but no. Not that it’s any of your business but I think I messed up a little and I want to apologize.” His friends all looked at him like he had two heads.
“Is that why you called a meeting? To ask for girl advice?” Dustin yelled. Eddie stayed silent and everyone groaned. They all decided that since they were there they’d talk strategy for the next campaign.
You, on the other hand, sighed as you grabbed your car keys. You were looking forward to your peaceful weekend, only to be called up last minute to pick up Lucas and Erica. All they needed was a ride home, so you didn’t mind too much. You just weren’t looking forward to seeing Eddie after his little attitude problem at the video store. You actually weren’t thrilled with his attitude at all lately.
You waited in the parking lot for a while, an empty parking lot besides Eddie’s van. It should’ve been over by now but maybe they were waiting inside. You decided to go in and check, just in case.
The building was quiet, but the light in their meeting room was still on. You didn’t bother knocking, swinging the door open expecting to see the kids waiting. But you were met with Eddie and just Eddie.
“Uh where’s Lucas and Erica?” You asked, panic starting to build.
“One of the guys took them home,” he answered calmly. You huffed and rubbed your hand across your face.
“And no one thought to call me? That’s great,” you mumbled to yourself.
“Are you really that upset that you have to see me?” He asked with a smirk. He was hoping you’d just fall into his arms, but of course it couldn’t be that easy.
“Uh, yeah, actually. I am. I don’t like the way you gave Steve attitude the other night,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you. An angered expression quickly took over his handsome face.
“So now you’re defending him? Is he your little boyfriend?”
“Excuse me? Who I’m dating is none of your business and you were rude to me as well, but we’re friends so I don’t care. You don’t even know him so you have no right to be an asshole!” The corners of his lips twitched up.
“We’re friends?” He asked. You threw your hands up in annoyance.
“Not my point, Munson.” You walked over to where he was standing and got in his face. “I don’t know what your problem is lately but grow up and knock it off.”
The darkness of his eyes sent a chill down your spine. He stalked toward you and backed you up against the table.
“You want to know what my problem is, sweetheart?” His body was pressed against yours and he placed both hands on the table, trapping you there. His face was only inches from yours. “I’m the only person you should be calling daddy.”
“H-huh?” You we’re certain your heart was going to beat right out of your chest.
“You said the other night that Steve was daddy material. Then you had the audacity to flirt with him at the video store- god I was so pissed,” he said with a low voice.
He ducked his head lower; you could practically feel his lips on yours, but he wasn’t kissing you yet much to your dismay.
“Are you mine, sweetheart?” He asked. You sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Ah, ah, ah. Try again, princess.”
“I’m yours, daddy.” You thought you heard him growl before he crashed his lips to yours. It was a mess of tongue and teeth as he sat you up on the table, legs spread apart for him. You started to kiss down his jaw and neck, leaving marks as you went.
“Fuck, I should fill your tight little cunt right up with my cum. Fucking knock you up so everyone knows you’re mine,” he said, hands gripping your thighs. You audibly moaned when he said that. You had never been turned on by such an idea before but hearing those words come from Eddie made you melt right on the spot.
“Please,” you could only whimper.
“You’re gonna be the death of me. I wanna fuck you right here on the table. I want you to feel how painfully hard you make me.” His hips were grinding into you and it was making you dizzy in the best way.
“So do it. Take me right now. Please, daddy. I wanna feel you inside me,” you begged. Eddie seemed to consider it for a moment before laying you back on the table and hiking up your skirt. He could already see the wet patch forming on your panties and he smirked.
He pulled them completely off and you didn’t notice how he stuffed them in his pocket. His long fingers slid through your folds with ease. He teased your clit before sliding two fingers into you, stretching you slightly.
He pumped them in and out of you, the warm metal of his rings nudging your clit with every thrust. When he added a third finger you just about fell apart at the seams.
“Look at that pretty pussy, taking my fingers so well. God, you’re gonna feel so good cumming on my cock, princess. Gonna look so hot with my cum dripping out of you,” he said, voice laced with lust. His fingers sped up as he watched you with such intensity. He wanted to memorize how you looked and sounded when he was pleasuring you.
“Eddie, that feels so good!” You moaned. His actions stopped completely and your eyes shot open. “Daddy!”
“Good girl,” he smirked. He curled his fingers upward as he resumed. The new sensation was enough to bring you closer to the edge. He bit his lip, concentrating on making you feel good. “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum for daddy.”
Your back arched off the table as your orgasm washed over you. Only once your body went limp did he pull his fingers from your dripping cunt. You watched as he swirled his tongue around them, sucking them clean.
His hands them moved down to his jeans, unzipping them slowly. He let them fall to his ankles as he began to pump his already hard length.
“You’re sure you want this?” He asked, caressing your leg softly.
“I’m absolutely positive,” you said. He lined up with your entrance and moaned loudly as he slid into you inch by inch.
“You feel even better than I’ve imagined.”
“You’ve imagined this?” You asked with a small smile. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you he looked down with a smile of his own.
“Only every day for the last 3 years,” he chuckled. He pulled out slowly only to slam back into you. His thrusts were fast and sharp, such a contrast to his sweet words.
His hair was falling into his face so he threw his head back in ecstasy. His eyes were screwed shut and you didn’t think you’d ever see something so gorgeous again in your lifetime. Your walls began to clench around him, causing him to swear out loud.
“I’m almost there, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. Can I fill you up, sweetheart?” You were so lost in the pleasure you’d probably agree to just about anything, but nothing sounded more amazing than him filling you.
“Yes, daddy, please. Cum inside me,” you whined. His thrusts became sloppier but he still managed to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Your body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible as your second orgasm hit you. You screamed his name and that alone was enough to set off his own. You could feel his cum being pumped inside of you with every slow thrust.
When you both had rode out your highs, he remained inside of you. He finally looked down at your blissful expression and smiled. He pulled out slowly, only to push back in when he saw his cum leaking out.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was incredible,” you sighed happily.
“We defiled the game board but it was so worth it,” he said. He let you sit up and he kissed you. “So are you really mine now?”
“I’d love nothing more, Eds,” you whispered.
“Good, because I have so much more planned for us.” He kissed you once more and pulled you from the table, catching you when your legs wobbled.
“Wait, where are my underwear?” You asked. Eddie just smirked at you as he buckled his pants.
“Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. We’ll go back to my place and I promise you won’t be needing those panties.” He smacked your ass playfully as he lead you from the game room, panties still safely tucked in his pocket.
You weren’t sure what you were getting yourself in to, but you were definitely excited to find out.
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Tag-list: @thebookbakery @dootys @mellomadness
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You're bleeding magic out somehow
Summary: Basically Edward shares you with Harley, pure porn guys.
Warnings: smut 18+, threesome (everyone is bisexual lmao), fingering (reader receiving), cunnilingus (reader giving), praise and degradation, dom! Edward and dom! Harley (switch Harley if you squint), rough sex, one slap, leather glove kink (sorry)
Words: 3.1k
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“I told you, she’s a doll isn’t she?”
You didn’t have to look at Edward to know he was smirking as he spoke, the selfish pride in his voice palpable as he presents you like one of his trophies. You’d been together for a while, and you thought he would have kept your relationship a secret from the malevolent underworld he operates in, and perhaps he had for the most part.
“You really weren’t kiddin’” came the other voice in the room, and your eyes dart from the floor to finally take in the unexpected guest. Harley. “How in the hell did ya manage that, Eddie?”
Edward lets out a scoff, his gloved hand squeezing at the side of your waist. “Oh please, she’s dating the unchallenged mastermind of Gotham City, I’d say she was the lucky one.”
Harley didn’t seem to be paying attention to his self-aggrandizing words, instead her eyes were firmly on you. She stepped closer a little, her head tilting and causing some wispy strands of blonde hair to fall across her face. You certainly hadn’t expected anyone else to be here when Edward had texted you the location of whatever warehouse he was scheming in; you figured he wanted you to help him blow off some steam, so being confronted with the Harley Quinn when you entered was certainly a rush.
“You really are a pretty one ain’t ya?” she says with a giggle, reaching out and tilting your chin up slightly. Her heeled boots meant she could look down on you a little, and it causes the heat to burn in your cheeks.
“Harley just complimented you darling, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners.” Edward says condescendingly, causing you to quickly thank her for her kindness.
“Awe, how well trained,” she smirked, the way they both were talking to you was clearly having an effect; both a knot in your stomach and a growing heat between your legs. “You like girls, sugar?”
Edward laughed softly at her comment, and your eyes widened a little before nodding your head.
“Perfect,” she almost purrs, before suddenly walking past you both like she hadn’t reduced you to a flustered mess with little to no effort. “You know, you could really do with some couches in here Eddie, there ain’t nowhere comfy.”
“There’s a desk and a chair, what else do I need when I’m navigating problems you couldn’t possibly hope to understand- “
“Well, I guess that’ll have to do” she cuts him off, causing Edward’s jaw to clench a little. You couldn’t suppress the little smile that played on your lips at their interactions. “Get over here dollface.”
It took you a moment to realise she was talking to you, and with a nod of Edward’s head in approval you walk over to his desk, standing in front of Harley. She hums a little as she looks over you again, her hand softly tracing your hip almost absentmindedly.
“As soon as Eddie told me he had you all to himself, I did get a little jealous” she says with another giggle, her hand rising from your hip to your waist. “And I’d love to have a little fun with ya, but if you don’t wanna, you tell me now. Understood?”
Her tone had become more serious, and you understood she was clearly seeking your consent. To describe the scenario as a dream come true would be an understatement, so you didn’t hesitate to tell her you wanted it.
“Don’t think she’ll have free reign over you though” Edward’s voice cuts through the tension between you and Harley, as he comes up behind you and leans near your ear, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget who you really belong to.”
He pushes you forward a little, causing you to stumble against Harley, your chests practically pressed against each other. You could smell the sickly-sweet perfume on her as she captures your lips in a kiss. It was like she was trying her best to start slow, but she just couldn’t resist running her tongue over your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you. Taking this opportunity of weakness, Edward’s hand firmly grabs at your hips as he trails kisses along your neck and towards your shoulder. Trying your best to stay still and not shiver, you do your best to match Harley’s intensity as you hold on to the tops of her arms. However, it was like the wind had been knocked out of you when you felt your skirt move and a hand cup your clothed cunt.
“Harleen,” Edward mumbles a little harshly against your neck, “Do you truly have so little patience?”
Harley just laughs softly, giving you a soft slap on your clit before pulling her hand away and holding both up in a mock surrender. “Can ya blame me? She’s just gorgeous.”
“I suppose you have a point,” he says, “I’m guessing she was already wet?”
“Soaked.”
“What a needy girl.”
The way they spoke like you weren’t even there, embarrassingly causes you to have to bite your lip to hold in a whimper, your thighs pressed tight together.
“Come on Eddie, the poor thing is dyin’ on us.” she laughs, almost mocking. You turn slightly to look up at Edward, hoping the pleading in your eyes will convince him to move more at Harley’s pace. He scoffs, but you can see the trace of a smirk on his lips.
“Alright, only because a guest is here. I can’t have you getting spoilt now, can I?” and with a smack on your ass, he instructs you to sit on the desk. You watch as he whispers something to Harley, before she nods and stands between your legs. Her hands move up your thighs, excitement bubbling in your chest before she swiftly digs her nails in and drags them, enough to leave a mark. You gasp, hands gripping the edge of the desk at the sudden sting.
“So ya have something to remember me by.” She says teasingly, before hooking her fingers under your panties and pulling them down roughly. Red and black painted nails smooth over the marks on your thighs, before flipping your skirt to ensure you were fully on display to the two pairs of eyes that were on you.
“So pretty…” she whispers softly, before bringing her hand up and gently starting to circle your clit. At the same time, Edward moves to stand next to Harley, your right thigh separating the two criminals. He tugs your shirt up, exposing your bra and roughly groping your chest; quite the contrast to Harley’s more gentle ministrations.
As her fingers move a little faster against your throbbing clit, she makes the remark “you ain’t even taken off your gloves” to Edward. He meets your eyes and smirks before he replies.
“Oh trust me my dear, she likes it. Watch.”
He brings his hand up to your chin, holding it for a moment before pressing his thumb into your mouth. The feeling of the leather in your mouth makes you moan softly, sucking like the obedient girl you were for him. You heard Harley laugh, as Edward forced his thumb in deeper, before pulling it out and giving your cheek a gentle slap.
Not being given much time to react, you felt Harley’s finger against your entrance before she plunged it in roughly. On instinct your thighs move to close, before she uses her other hand to yank them apart again and snap “stay”. Before you can truly register the pleasure, she has two fingers deep inside you, setting a rough but steady pace. As your noises grow more frequent, Edward’s hand comes to rest on your throat, not yet squeezing. The sloppy sounds of your wet cunt were loud and cause your face to flush, your eyes darting away to instead look at the two super-villains watching you fall apart for them; Edward’s eyes laser focused on Harley’s fingers going in and out of you, and it makes you whimper at the sight. His eyes snap up to yours, before he leans in to kiss you.
“Enjoying yourself? I suppose someone like you was made to be the centre of attention,” he taunts against your lips, reveling in the pitiful nod you give him. He tightens his grip on your neck, causing a shaky gasp and your cunt to tighten.
“Damn, she got tight when you choked her. Do it again,” Harley ordered, a wicked smile on her face.
“I don’t take orders from you.” Edward mutters in a prideful manner, but he couldn’t resist tightening his grip again. A satisfied grin was plastered on his face when you elicit the same response, your knuckles going white as you grip the desk for what felt like your life.
“Awe, ain’t you such a little whore.” Harley taunts in an excited manner; she truly looks like the kitten whose got the cream as she makes you writhe and moan at her touch. She starts to curl her fingers inside you, getting you more worked up as your hips attempt to buck up with each thrust. Your eyes are drawn away from Harley to Edward as you notice how invested he is in the sight in front of him. As much as he’s trying to hide it, he’s clearly affected by the sight of Harley finger-fucking his girlfriend on his desk, his bulge straining against his suit trousers. With a shaky sigh, you meet his eyes, and he knows you’re getting close.
“You want to cum?” he asks, moving his hand from your throat to toy with your clit, Harley’s rough pace never slowing as you pathetically babble that you need to. “Well, I suppose you should beg Harley, shouldn’t you? And make sure you’re polite.”
You immediately start begging, looking at Harley through watery eyes as you do your best to convince her of your desperation. A smirk plays on her lips as she watches you intensely.
“Awe sugar, you got the cutest lil’ voice when you beg” she says in a saccharine sweet tone, “I don’t know if I believe ya.”
You whine. Loudly. “Please Harley I-I’ll do anything please I just…need to cum, please.”
“Anything?” she growls out, and somehow manages to thrust her fingers faster. She laughs in your face as you nod, “I’ll be nice to ya, cum on my fingers then.”
As she gives you permission, Edward circles your clit faster, causing you to cry out and cum all over her hand. You feel your hair stick to your face as your chest heaves, Harley’s fingers leaving your pussy with an embarrassingly wet noise. She immediately brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in a lewd manner and winking.
“Delicious.”
Edward’s gaze lingers on the show for a little bit too long, before he looks back at you.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, so dirty” he patronises, running his hand over the wetness of your inner thigh, tracing the nail marks Harley left with his index finger, “I hardly think it’s fair that you get to have all of the fun, hm?”
You nod obediently, eager to please them both which delights Edward’s possessiveness.
“You could fuck her here Eddie,” Harley begins, tapping your oversensitive clit, “while I get to fuck her mouth. Whatcha think?”
“Perfect, are you alright with that darling?” he asks you, and once you give consent he tugs you off the desk and gives you a grin, “Right, you bend over. Harley, get comfortable.”
As you do as he says, you can feel butterflies in your stomach at the excitement. You and Edward have done some very kinky things, but to get to partake in a threesome with, in your humble opinion, the hottest and most dangerous woman you think you’ve ever seen was making your breath heavy and your skin hot. Bending over the desk, you watch in awe as Harley jumps up on the desk and slides her black and red shorts down her legs, leaving her thigh high socks on. Your eyes are glued to her body, and you even hear Edward mutter a laboured “christ…” as she puts on a show of taking her underwear off.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She teases with a wink, before sitting and getting comfortable with her cunt right in front of your face. You push your head forward, before she presses her fingers to your forehead, holding you back and making you let out an involuntary whine.
“Not until he’s inside ya sugar, you alright back there Eddie? Something distracting ya from fucking your little doll?”
You hear him grumble some variation of “shut up”, and you bite your lip to suppress the giggle bubbling up in you at the sound of him flustered. All thoughts vanish from your head though when you feel him press against you, rubbing up and down and catching on your clit. You try and grind backwards, leading him to slap your ass harshly.
“I’m in control, remember?” he says harshly, and due to the circumstances it’s hard to tell who he’s actually speaking to. Finally, he sinks into you slowly, letting you savour every inch as you gasp and keen beneath him. Once he’s inside you, he pulls back and slams back into you, causing you to lurch forward and luckily this time, Harley lets you start to lick at her pussy. You arch your back a little as he starts to set the pace, at the same time that Harley tangles a hand in your hair. Eyes closing, you can barely handle the sensations that are wracking through your body with each snap of his hips, each tug of your hair to guide your tongue to where she needs you.
The blonde’s voice sounds angelic to your ears, her moans getting higher whenever you drag your tongue a certain way. You try your best to maintain a good rhythm, but it’s hard when your being fucked in just the right way by your criminal boyfriend. Feeling his fingers digging in to your hips, you realise he’s taken his gloves off; opting to reach under your skirt to bruise you with how tight he’s holding on. Sucking her clit softly, you’re graced with another high-pitched moan from Harley, her grip on your hair tight.
“Fuck…you’re just perfect ain’t ya?” she slurs out, bucking her hips into your face. All you can do is moan softly into her cunt, resting your hands on her thighs to stabilise yourself.
“Made for this, weren’t you? Being used like a toy by two criminals.” Edward grunted, moving his hand to knead the soft skin of your ass. You nod as best you can against Harley cunt and let out a soft noise of embarrassment at his words, gripping her thighs a little tighter almost as your small revenge for her marking you earlier. She doesn’t seem to mind, still whining at the movement of your tongue.
“How cute, you like that baby? Gotham’s best and baddest fuckin’ ya dumb?”
“Of course she does, look at her. How pathetic.”
Fuck you can barely breathe with how turned on you are, their taunts somehow making you even wetter and your eyes to roll back even more. Time seems to be an illusion you can’t process, how long had they been fucking you?
“Such a filthy girl.”
You’re barely sure you can even register which of them just said that, your brains leaking out of your ears. Snapping partly back to reality, Harley pushes you further against her as her whimpers get more breathy. You can tell she’s getting close, so you try your best to maintain the rhythm of your tongue, wanting nothing more than for her to finish.
“Just like that sugar…gonna make me cum, yeah?” she manages to stutter out, her grip in your hair brutal, not that you mind. You could only imagine that you’d heard a chorus of angel’s singing from heaven when Harley cums all over your face, her voice desperate and powerful and stunning. Lapping up her cum as best as you could, she finally releases you, your face now half against the desk as you were still getting railed.
“I suppose you deserve a reward then, for making Harley feel good hm? Do you want the…fuck…the privilege of me finishing inside of you?” he growls at you, grabbing your hand and shoving it between your legs, “Tell me. Tell me how much you need the riddler to cum inside you.”
The combination of being allowed to touch yourself, Edward’s brutal pace and Harley looking down at you was proving to be too much. You stutter out how much you need him, how grateful you were, all the things that stroked his already inflated ego as his thrusts seem to go even deeper. You feel that you’re on a knife edge, so close to cumming you can almost taste it. With a glance up at Harley, her soft features smile at you as she strokes your flushed cheek.
“Go on sugar, you can do it. Cum.”
Her gentle words send you over the edge, crying out as tears form in your eyes. The pleasure is overwhelming, Edward’s pace not slowing until he suddenly stops, and you feel him finish inside you with a groan. The strong intakes of breath aren’t enough, as you feel the world dissolving around you before Harley gets off the desk and presses a soft kiss to your lips.
“Well done baby, you were amazing.”
“You know, I didn’t actually give her permission to cum.” Edward grumbles as he pulls out, fixing his trousers. Harley just rolls her eyes playfully.
“He always this grouchy after fucking the life out of ya?”
“Don’t answer that.” He snaps, but when you turn to look at him, a small smile traces his features. Shifting uncomfortably, you precariously stand back up, feeling his cum start to leak out of you. Harley quickly grabs your underwear and helps you back into them, giving you a comedically big kiss on the cheek.
“Gotta say I’ve had a blast, you two gonna let me join in again sometime?” she asks cheekily.
“Maybe,” Edward says with a smirk, “and maybe we can work on that attitude of yours Harleen.”
She just laughs loudly, flicking Edward’s nose, and if you could have paid all the money in the world for a picture of his face at that moment, you would have.
“Yeah right. I think I’ll just stick to ruining your girl.” She teases with a wink, before getting dressed. As Edward pulls you against him and asks softly if you’re alright, you can’t help but blush and wonder about this new dynamic that seems to be unfolding. Safe to say, Harley was going to be keeping your relationship much more interesting, and you couldn’t be happier.
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thank you for reading my incredibly self indulgent smut fic lol x
#riddler x reader#harley quinn x reader#dc fanfic#the riddler x reader#dc smut#edward nygma smut#harley quinn smut#bisexual#riddler smut#gotham smut#riddler x reader x harley quinn#batman smut
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all that love ever taught me
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie has loved you for a long while, he just doesn't have what it takes to tell you, and that might just be his downfall.
Requested by @stiegasaw: Could you do something with Eddie as a secret admirer?
A/N: This one is written in a bit of a different style than what I normally do, but I think it turned out okay, do let me know. Also, exclusively from Eddie's pov (a very lovesick Eddie, might I add) <3.
Masterlist
Eddie Munson despised cliches.
He hated when movies threw in that overly done love story, where against all odds, the guy gets the girl in the end. It was overused and too far away from reality, more often than not making him roll his eyes at his TV to a movie he was enjoying before all the mushy stuff started.
He couldn't stand it because they always made it look like the real world was a sea of roses, which was so so far from the truth.
Eddie hated cliches, because ultimately, he was living the biggest of them all. Except in his scenario, a happy ending was nowhere to be seen.
The tragedy started after the first time Eddie failed to graduate, Jason was giving him shit about it right on the first day back, making a show with his peers about how much of a failure Eddie was. And that's when you came crashing into his life — his personal angel, he liked to think — strutting up beside Eddie with your doc martens and a faded Bon Jovi shirt, talking all sweet about how Jason alone managed to lose the last game of basketball for the school's team. It shut the jock up and sent a cupid's arrow right through Eddie's chest; who acted like a massive weirdo and was too flustered to say anything to you. Safe to say he was kinda glad for being held back after discovering you'd be sharing his classes.
And now, six months later and a lot of wishful glances combined with leaping hearts, Eddie found himself head over heels in love with the girl who defended him once. But he couldn't be blamed, no one stands up for Eddie Munson, and when you also smile at him from the other side of the classroom and take an extra set of notes whenever he misses a class, he was bound to become every single cliche he said to hate.
_
Monday morning started out with shy rays of sun peeking over grey clouds, making the steadily falling droplets of rain shine. It was precisely the kind of morning that got Eddie wanting to turn around in his bed and continue sleeping. But he couldn't, an annoying chemistry assignment said so.
Hawkins High's parking lot was more packed than usual, leaving Eddie to park his van a little further than he'd like. He huffed in disdain when he plucked the key from the ignition, putting on his hoodie in a cheap attempt to not get soaked.
Water splashed around his sneakers as Eddie ran towards the school's doors, backpack bouncing on his back.
He stopped just short of reaching the roof, his feet coming to a halt when his gaze landed on you, who stood beside the glass doors he was trying to reach, shaking the rain from your umbrella.
Eddie felt a single drop of water running down his forehead, and then another, and one more; his hair shining as more and more raindrops clung to it. It happened most of the time, a small part of him froze whenever he was presented with the possibility of having a moment with you. Something inside him kept saying; 'what do you want with someone like her? Someone so astronomically out of your league? You'll just weird her out eventually'. Even if you were nothing but kind, always making an effort to talk with him, he still hesitated.
"Eddie, man," Gareth's voice snapped Eddie's mind back to reality, "what the hell are you doing? You're getting soaked." The boy stood on the sidewalk, under the small roof of the brick wall, frowning and shaking his head at Eddie.
"Just zoned out." Eddie waved a dismissive hand at him, walking under the roof and out of the rain. He pushed back his hoodie, shaking his head as a dog would to get rid of the raindrops.
Gareth scoffed, "yeah right, and I'm looking at the reason why," he pointedly shot a glance in your direction with a smirk, earning himself a shove in the shoulder from Eddie that only made him laugh harder.
_
There were rare times in which Eddie would consider himself lucky. Having your locker just three doors away from his, was one of those times.
Eddie took his time separating his books, gently swinging the metal door back and forth and creating a melody with the rusty hinges and the click of his rings.
Your laughter made his ears perk up. Not so subtly, he peeked from behind the locker's door. His fingers fumbled with the little notebook he had in his hands, anticipation building in his stomach.
A soft chuckle escaped you, resonating through the school's hallway and making Eddie smile. He watched as you carefully picked up the note, as your eyes crinkled with a smile of your own once you read it.
With messy handwriting — messier than normal, considering his nerves — Eddie had slipped the first anonymous note inside your locker just barely a month ago. For the sole purpose of him hearing a conversation between you and one of your friends, where you were saying how you felt a little weird in your new jacket, like everyone was looking at you. And Eddie simply couldn't let it pass, because it was a light blue leather jacket that had rendered him breathless for a moment, and he needed you to know. So he wrote;
For what's worth, I think your look is pretty metal. Which in my humble opinion, is the most beautiful there is.
It got you biting your lip to contain the smile, holding onto the small note as if it was a diamond ring.
Eddie got pretty addicted to the sight, so every once in a while, he'd pour little bits of his affection in a note and slip it into your locker.
Too late, he realized you had closed said locker and were now making your way to him.
He subconsciously straightened his posture, hastily shoving his black little notebook into his back pocket.
"Hey, Eddie." You held onto his locker door, fingers dangerously close to his own.
Eddie cleared his throat, his thumb barely grazed the skin of your hand before he pulled away. "Y/N, to what do I owe the honor?"
You chuckled and swatted at his arm. For a moment, your lips parted, and it looked like you wanted to say something else, before the words faded and you settled for; "I took some extra notes in our last class, Mr. Anderson usually gives us a few minutes to catch up before his tests, you can take them if you'd like." You extended the paper to him, with the neat handwriting Eddie was all too familiar with.
"Shit, you're an angel, sweetheart," the pet name slipped past his lips like butter, as if it was routine, as if you were his to call. His locker door shut with a loud bump of metal against metal, eyes fixed on yours to see how much damage his loose tongue had caused.
There was a reason for the way he felt so drawn to you, Eddie figured, maybe if he was bold enough, he'd test fate.
You smirked, eyelashes kissing the corner of your eyes, touch as sweet as honey and as warm as the sun when your fingers closed around the cuff of his hoodie. "Come on, don't wanna be late, he's not exactly kind in that matter," you fell into step beside Eddie, hooking your pinkie with his, "you'd know, right?"
He would know, Eddie was once ten minutes late for that class and had the door slammed in his face. That was the last thing he could think about though, with the way his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. Your skin was soft against his guitar-scarred fingertips. He loved the feeling, it numbed any and all other senses.
_
When the last bell of the day rang, sending eager students home, the rain was even worse than it was in the morning. Eddie was glad the classes were over, he'd happily stay in his room for the whole rest of the day; lights out, cigarette hanging from his lips as he mindlessly strummed his guitar with the sounds of rain hitting the roof.
Just as he walked out of the school doors, Eddie found you, your back was pressed to the brick wall as droplets of rain collected on your boots — courtesy of the ridiculously small roof from outside — you held your backpack straps with one hand and your umbrella with the other, wisps of loose hair following the same path the cold wind set. Eddie could see the goosebumps on the naked skin of your arms, he wanted to pull you close, or at least give you his hoodie.
"I thought it would get better, but I think it just got worse," Eddie chuckled, looking up at the dark clouds with a grimace.
"Oh yeah," you glanced at him and then up as well, "perfect weather to stay at home though, isn't it?"
Selfishly, Eddie thought of hot chocolate; of his comfy worn couch, and a cheesy movie on his TV. He thought of sweaters and fluffy blankets; of pouring the sweet hot drink in two mugs, and bringing one of them to you.
"Sure is," Eddie stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, averting his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips for the dream that could never be.
He didn't see your smile, or how you looked at him like he held the moon and stars at his fingertips. He did feel your shoulder bumping into his. You had moved closer, now pressed to him under the small roof.
"Are you waiting for someone?" Eddie asked, blinking down at you when tiny raindrops flew on his cheeks.
"Not really," you huffed, raising your umbrella, "I'm kind of on my own."
"What? In this?" He raised his eyebrows, jutting a thumb towards the pouring rain as if you hadn't noticed it.
You just shrugged, "I was gonna wait it out a bit."
"You're gonna wait forever." He pursed his lips, not thinking much about his next words, "let me give you a ride."
"No, Eddie, it's okay, I don't wanna bother-"
"You could never."
Eddie blamed it on the heavy rain when he clasped your hand in his, running with you to the school's parking lot and to his van. The end of his jeans got soaked as he stepped in the puddles and strands of hair started clinging to his wet cheeks and forehead, but he didn't care, you were laughing and holding tight onto his hand and it was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.
A few drops of water were running down the bridge of your nose and to your chin when you threw yourself on the passenger's seat, Eddie following close behind and slamming shut the driver's door.
Eddie gripped tight the steering wheel, the last bits of laughter dying on his lips. He was a little breathless, from the running or from having you in his van, he didn't know. "Where to, angel?"
The sound of raindrops hitting the metal roof was muffled because of the closed windows, making the rain seem much more tender than it was. You let go of your backpack, letting it rest on your feet as you wiped away the raindrops stuck to your eyelashes.
You leaned closer before answering, one hand coming up to brush away strands of hair caught in Eddie's lips.
Any coherent thoughts slipped from his mind when your fingertips touched his cheek, as you slowly tamed his curls behind his ear so you could see his eyes clearly. As simple as it was, it felt intimate in a way Eddie had never been with anyone else, making his body fill with goosebumps from head to toe. The naive side of him wanted it to mean something.
Only once you pulled away, that Eddie could look at you, pupils blown wide and hoping you couldn't see the pink on his cheeks.
"I'll guide you." Was all you said.
Eddie drove out of the school's parking lot with ease, making sure to keep well under the speed limit as he followed your directions.
Somewhere along the way, the silence started to become a bit too loud. Eddie fumbled with his radio a bit, until you startled him by saying, quite animatedly, that you loved this song.
"This one?" He asked, gaze moving between you and the radio. It was a Judas Priest song, one Eddie knows all too well, but didn't expect you to like.
"Yeah, I usually blast it on my player whenever I have to clean the house, until my mom tells me to turn it down," you mumbled the last part.
Eddie chuckled, chancing another glance your way before turning up the volume just a smidge. "I like it too. I uh- I've even played it once, with my band."
You turned to him, eyes twinkling with excitement, "you have a band?"
Eddie had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep focused, knuckles turning white around the steering because oh how you drive him mad in the best possible way. "I do, yeah, we usually play at The Hideout for a few drunks who are there to watch. It's not much but, it's something already."
"Oh, this is me," you quickly pointed at your house, causing Eddie to slam the breaks abruptly.
The house was pretty, he didn't even realize he had entered one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. It was easy to be around you, to get wrapped up in the warmth of your presence; it was easy to forget why he kept you at arm's length in the first place.
You had good grades and popular friends, a nice house, parents with well-paid jobs, and a promising future. You'd no doubt be leaving for college as soon as you graduate, leaving Hawkins behind, leaving Eddie. Because that's exactly what fits in with you, something better than this town, better than him. At least that's the excuse Eddie chose to tell himself to avoid another loss.
"Eddie this is so awesome," you finally continued, "when I was younger I sometimes wanted to have a band too. You know, travel the world, play for different people."
"Yeah well, I'm about as close to doing that as you are," Eddie smirked, turning off his van and slumping back in his seat, feeling rather drunk in the way your perfume got trapped in the stuffy van.
"Bullshit, you can play. Me and instruments definitely don't see eye to eye." You picked up your backpack, hugging it to your chest and making no effort to leave, even though you were right in front of your house.
I can teach you, if you'd like. Is what Eddie wanted to say, he could feel the words pushing against his throat and forming a lump there. Or maybe; you should come see us play sometime.
He couldn't bring himself to say it.
You waited for just a second longer before thanking him and saying goodbye, as if you were asking him to do something, anything that would tell you what this dance between you two was.
Eddie watched you run from his van and to your porch, waiting until you were safely inside your home and he was left alone with just the low tune of the radio.
As he drove to his trailer, something felt missing. Every time he turned to look at the passenger's seat the hollowness in his chest deepened. He felt like a coward for losing his chance, one he would probably not have again.
The rain was falling heavily, making the radio stutter in its play. Eddie fiddled with the buttons until all he heard was static, he punched the steering wheel, almost knocking the old thing out of place, before heaving out a frustrated sigh and slumping back in his seat.
"What's wrong with you, man?" He asked himself and didn't know the answer. But he cursed his parents, for leaving him with a scarred heart. He cursed Hawkins and that damn school for putting a target on his back. He cursed you, too, for making him fall so easily. Mainly though, he cursed himself.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Read Part 2 here
Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt
@oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#strangerthingsedit#stranger things#eddie munson x you#imagine#fanfic#fluff#angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddiemunsonedit#joseph quinn#stranger things x reader#st#my story
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here’s an idea i’d love to see you bring to life if it peaks your interest: alpha eddie and omega reader where it’s soon after they presented so her heat isn’t regulated yet and they are on a school trip or weekend away or something semi public like that and she gets her heat and obviously attracts the attention of other alphas in the school/area and he has to keep her safe/save her from said unruly alphas who want to mate her and he gets super protective and all strong alpha she’s mine vibes, that’s my thought, hope you like it xx
camp trails (alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader)
authors note: hi babes! thank you for the request, i love this idea and am a total simp for protective tropes. i have a small headache atm so i whipped this up fairly quickly, but i hope you enjoy! feedback and requests and welcomed :)
warnings: violence, sexual themes (18+)
The yearly trip to the camp grounds became mandatory for seniors this semester, making all the students dread the weekend afoot. Eddie had tried to wager with the teachers to allow him to drive himself, but he may have been the last person they would’ve allowed that to.
The bus came to a screeching halt, catapulting the unguarded students to the seat in front of them, a sequence of groans following. The doors swung open, greeted by the rural spring air that blew in as they made their way out.
Eddie grabbed your hand, walking out with you to observe his surroundings, nose scrunching at the cabins and broad lake. The water glistened with small ripples, some stray leaves floating on top with moss on the sides.
“Alright, line up!” Mr. Richmond hollered, diverting the attention to the man on top of the wooden block. A woman and a man stood on each side, wearing shirts with the camp's logo on it in teal font. The bag slung over your shoulder itched the bare skin there, shifting your shoulders uncomfortably.
There was a silent attendance being taken, the clipboard slotted in Mr. Richmond’s hands, a pen between his fingers as his eyes scanned the sea of 18 and 19 year olds, and one 20 year old with long brown hair.
“Now, we’ll go ahead and put our things away. Girls, you’ll be with Miss Carrie in the left cabin.” He instructed, the petite blonde waving, “And boys, you’ll be with Mr Anthony in the right cabin.”
Separating, you wandered into the spacious wooden chamber, choosing a bottom bunk near the door. Robin snagged the bed above yours, spraying some extra perfume on and running her hand through her short hair.
The other girls joked about what beds they would own for the night, giggling and teasing one another, making you smile. Since presenting, you spent a lot of time with Eddie, which you adored, but sometimes being surrounded by feminine energy was refreshing. The tug on your hand that sent you walking snapped you from your daze, Robin yanking you to her side as she laughed at your aloofness.
Joining the other students by the waterside, you felt lingering eyes on you while yours trained on the small snails going between the blades of debris. Crouching down, you sat gingerly on the damp grass, Robin joining beside you with less grace and a huff.
“Wonder how long it’ll be before a meathead starts a fight?” She pondered, glancing at the boys who were throwing around a football, their varsity jackets hung on a tree branch.
“At least we’ll get some entertainment.” You shrugged, plucking a small yellow flower from the unkept grounds, putting it behind your friend’s ear. She rolled her eyes, a pink flush coming across her cheeks nonetheless.
More students trickled out, bringing boomboxes and blankets, trying to make the most of this unwilling vacation. The squeak of combat boots came from behind you, glancing back to see your boyfriend, sitting and pulling you against his body.
Robin fake gagged, now used to this behavior from the two of you, but choosing to see where Vicky had run off to. Leaning against his shoulder, the heat was radiating off his black shirt, his arms not covered in jackets for once due to the warm air.
“Can’t believe we have to stay in separate rooms.” He complained, a pout on his lips that you desperately wanted to kiss away.
“I know, but it’s school rules and it’ll just be a night.” You assured, patting his thigh through his black jeans, noticing the way his muscles relaxed.
Meals were provided, just some sandwiches and chips, while a snack table did remain stocked. You sat with Eddie, Robin, and Vicky, sharing your joint disdain for the trip entirely. There was peace in knowing others were suffering in a similar fashion, not wanting to be the odd one out.
Separate pockets of students began ways to occupy themselves, Eddie joining a card game with fellow nerds and you went to paint with some of the other girls on the other part of the land. Unwarranted nerves pooled in your stomach, attributing it to being away from home, focusing on the task at hand instead.
Dipping a thin paint brush into the small jar of water that was now murky with blended colors, you began a simple skyline, adding unrealistic clouds of white. The girls around you were within arms reach, sat on the same tattered blanket, but somehow they couldn’t feel farther.
The inescapable loneliness that followed presenting wasn’t something you expected, but you were one of the first omegas in your year, something that made you different. It wasn’t easy to explain the alterations that came with presenting, both mentally and physically, causing a silent divide to your peers.
“I think I’m gonna go for a walk.” You announced, tilting your head towards the walking trail ahead, dim lights illuminating it. They affirmed nonchalantly, going back to their art and discussing which boy the thought would present next.
Stray fireflies joined you on your journey, tightening your jacket around your frame as a stick broke under your sneakers. Spotting a garden snake slithering by in the bushes, you smiled at how it reminded you of Eddie and his infatuation with reptiles. He was the type of kid to read books about the scaly creatures, knowing which were poisonous or harmless.
While he had been your best friend for many years, the newfound deeper connection made you feel conjoined. It felt odd to be away from him for too long, wanting to hear every detail of his day, from what shaving cream he used to what song he listened to in the car.
The sharp pain targeted your lower abdomen again, wincing as your eyes screwed shut. Your breath quickened as the air seemed to grow warmer, a sweat breaking as you looked around, until you felt a dampness under your dress.
All senses were replaced with fear and need, sitting on an old tree stump with your legs pulled to your chest. Your heat had just come 2 weeks ago, convincing yourself this must be a false one, but all the symptoms were analogous to those.
“Hey there.” You heard a low voice, seeing a boy from your English class named Jackson, sauntering closer. “Did you get lost?”
You remained silent as you remembered he had just presented as an alpha, having missed the beginning of the month for it. As if on cue, the sound of leaves crunching brought two more new alpha’s, Luke and Noah.
Gulping, you stood up, toying with the bottom of your dress as your eyes turned glossy. The slick was pooling in your underwear at this point, knowing it couldn’t be long till it trickled down your leg, squeezing your thighs in a pointless attempt to gain control.
“Need some help, gorgeous?” Luke smirked, inhaling deeply as he managed to walk you back into the large oak tree, birds shuffling out from the bundles of leaves. Instincts kicked in as you bolted, hoping to find an easy exit with the boys hot on your tail, yelling.
Meanwhile, Eddie had been engrossed in a game of poker when he smelt it, the hairs on his arms standing straight up as he tried to shake it off. Figuring it had to be another student, he finished the round, huffing at his loss of a smuggled can of beer.
The girls you had joined to paint with were walking to the cafeteria table, setting them to dry as he approached, questioning where you were as he didn’t even spot an extra canvas.
“She went for a walk, some boys went after her a few minutes ago because it was getting dark.” Tasha quipped, lighting a dusty candle on the table, illuminating the glossy artwork.
His feet went quicker than his mind as he cursed to himself, heart plummeting at the fear you were alone, stopping at the payphone to tell Jeff to take his car and Gareth to drive his van over and head back in Jeff’s. The trail was bigger than he thought, leading to various points in the park, trying to depend on his inclinations.
Avoiding the designated trail, he chose the unruly woods within it as he tried to find a shortcut. As each footprint was ingrained in the dirt, his indignation for this trip and scenario further solidified.
His movement was stopped when he heard a sharp yelp, sprinting despite the restrictive denim on his legs and weight of his boots. Once back on the trail, he kept his eyes peeled in all directions with clenched fists. The scent was more poignant now, knowing it was you who it belonged to, making his fear grow alongside the anger.
The sound of struggle carried through the trees before he finally found you, a peer with his arms wrapped around your waist with restricted arms as the other two tried meaningless attempts to calm you.
“Hey!” Eddie shouted, stomping over with such feverishness that the boy's all looked towards him, feeling the grip around you tighten, “Put her down.”
“Or what? I think the lady needs help, finders keepers, freak.” Noah sneered, standing in front of the boy who held you, but his powerful stance didn’t last long as a punch landed on his right cheek.
Another set of hands grabbed the back of Eddie’s collar, but the pure protective fury burning made him quickly turn and punch the other one down too. He put his hands around the neck of the one holding you, the man beginning to yell.
While these boys could take a hit, they saw the blind rage in Eddie’s eyes, not wanting to discover what he was capable of. It was one of the only perks about being the town freak, you were infamous enough to be gossiped about, but outlandish enough to be whatever you needed to be in the moment.
“Try that shit again with her or any other girl and I will make you an early grave.” He gritted as they clutched their afflictions, “She is my fucking omega and if you even look in her direction, I will make your life a living hell.”
The boys looked bewildered as he turned around, wondering if he’d freak out again on them, but his focus was on you, rushing you away.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked, seeing how your focus was on your direct eyesight before you, not wavering to any other location. The tremble in your hands as he grabbed it only increased the farther you got to the exit.
Wordlessly scooping you in his arms, you finally allowed yourself to cry, the saltiness traveling down your cheeks and to your lips. Everything became muffled as you descended into your own headspace, embracing Eddie’s aroma that felt more prevalent than ever.
Unbeknownst to you, Robin rushed towards you both as Eddie asked for her to grab your bag. Seeing the sternness on his features and your fragile state, she complied without witt, rushing to the cabins.
Grateful to have called the boys, the keys to his own van were set on his bunk as he raced in, glad to not see any classmates. Quickly grabbing his bag, he marched over to his prized possession, yanking open the door to put you down. Robin came running with your own things, tossing it into the back seat and mentioning how she’ll inform a teacher on where you went.
“You gotta let go, baby. I just need to walk to the other side.” He consoled, trying to ease your placement from his neck, “Good girl.”
He jogged over, your frame already condensed into a ball, laying on your side with a slant due to the seatbelt. Kicking the car on, he tried obeying as many laws as he could consider, but his main focus was getting you somewhere safe.
He gave you his nightshirt from his bag, letting you simulate a nest until returning to the trailer park. A calming hand stroked your back lovingly, hushing your sounds of discontentment.
The arrival didn’t register in your brain until you were being tossed on Eddie’s blue sheets, eyes opening wide to take in your surroundings for a brief moment until his lips were on yours.
The taste on his tongue would never lose its power on you, feeling like you were discovering the eighth wonder of the world every time it trailed against your skin, making you come to peace with the safety created by him in the world of just the two of you.
“You’re my girl, my omega, I’m never going to let anyone hurt you.” He whispered, kissing your blazing skin as he undid your clothes, undoing any barrier you had internally with his words.
While each heat was overwhelming, there were always moments that brought you into a version of purgatory, not feeling neutral or spacey, or grounded. An area within our galaxy where you both were the only inhabitants, aliens to the outside world, but making perfect sense within them.
The language you conversed in belonged to your bodies, unable to process the communication outside of those times, finding your bodies knew each other long before your meeting years ago. You wondered if this feeling was common with every mating pair, but as you looked into his doe-brown eyes, you knew there was no way a world could be so cruel if they felt like this at least once in their lifetime.
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#elora writes#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson gif#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x you#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson oneshot#stranger things s4#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x female oc#alpha!eddie munson#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader#a/b/o universe#a/o/b#a/b/o stranger things#a/b/o smut
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I think the juxtaposition of BuckTommy, Henren and Eddie and Marisol is interesting in this episode.
Henren is already established and serves to show a caring, healthy relationship, in contrast to these new relationships.
Bucktommy had a rocky start, but they're getting there, and Buck really really wants to get to know Tommy some more. He wants to explore this new part of himself. He's found some semblance of peace with himself and then told two of the most important and close people in his life about him dating a guy.
Still, the main conflict here is that Buck did not communicate correctly, neither with his date or his best friend, and it's funny that the one that called him out on not communicating with his date is our dear Eddie.
Speaking of which... Eddie and Marisol, they are a mess lmao.
They made this girl show up for .2 milliseconds, move into her boyfriend's house, made them have sex and throw his boyfriend into an overthinking Catholic guilty mess, then made her move out again like... damn.
It's interesting that Eddie proposed that they start over again after he had that conversation with Buck. Seeing that his best friend is opening his options (keeping his options fluid!) made him realize that he should give this one a second chance and go slower, opposing Bucktommy's relatively fast pace (presenting your new boyfriend to your friends and family and your father and mother isn't really chill).
All of this is, of course, shown after we see Henren communicating like normal couples should do instead of throwing themselves onto Awkward Situations for everyone involved.
Hen and Karen talked about every important decision, showing how mature their relationship is (Hen is Karen's best friend, and Karen is Hen's best friend in turn. They know each other so well that with just A Look they decided to adopt this girl, no questions asked.) and set the standard before we see buddie stumbling through their relationships with other people and with each other.
It's beautiful, really, how this is leading to only one possibility.
Buck and Eddie are helping each other out on the other's relationship, but they're forgetting to look inside of their own. The clues are right there, they just need to figure it out first.
#this tured into a meta sin querer queriendo#im having thoughts yall#bucktommy#buddie#henren#911 spoilers#911 stuff#911 abc#evan buckley#eddie diaz
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