#steve harrington (belle’s version)
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content warning: stealthing, forced breeding
¡ stranger things masterlist !
steve wants to see your belly round with his babies. he wants to see you waddle around with swollen feet and the radiant glow of pregnancy. he wants to cum deep inside you, fill you with his cum over and over again. he wants fuck it back into you until he has nothing left to give you, until his cum is so deep inside you that there’s no way it won’t stick.
steve wishes to breed you. he wishes to make you his submissive little housewife, delicate and warm and carrying his children in your fertile womb. he wishes to come home to you in your pretty dresses, apron wrapped around you as your kids run rampant around your home while you cook dinner in the kitchen, hands on your back, supporting your heavy stomach.
he grunts as he pounds into you with increasing fervor, dropping his head into your neck to suckle on your pulse point. you whine his name and rake your nails down his back.
steve knows you’re not on the pill. he knows you’re not ready for children, in fact, you aren’t sure you want any at all. when you’d broken the news to him, he wasn’t sure what to think. his mind had gone blank, then, to places it never had before. you are going to build a family with him. you are going to be his pretty little wife, sitting pretty at home with his kids.
the condom around his cock is a obstacle in the way of his desired family. how else is he gonna fuck his cum so deep inside of you that you feel it penetrate your womb?
he slides the thin latex off his cock before bottoming out. you feel so much better without it. he growls into your throat, loving the way your heart speeds up. can you feel the difference too? is your body aware of what he has done? is it craving his cum?
you’re squeezing him so tightly he’s sure that you want to milk him dry. he trembles as you moan wildly.
“steve,” you squeak, “gonna cum!”
he bites your throat when you spasm around him, groaning into your flesh. you go limp under his hold leaving your body at his mercy and he feels himself become impossibly harder. his submissive little girl.
steve has always wanted to fuck you raw. and now he is. he feels every dip and ridge that line your insides. he feels the spongy area within your tight walls that leaves you crying.
he fucks you eagerly, wishing to see you leak of his cum, knowing that his semen is penetrating your egg deep within you. he grabs your waist and doesn’t hold back, pushing into you as deep and hard as he can. you wail under him, eyes lined with tears. “gonna breed you,” he snarls, “gonna make such a pretty mommy, huh?”
you don’t respond, unable to with all your cries. “gonna cum so deep inside you, there’s no way it isn’t gonna stick.”
“p-pull,” your chest heaves, “out.”
his hips are flush to yours when he cums but his hips still stutter as if they wanted to go deeper.
your eyes are spilling tears and open wide as you stare up at him, “steve, i-is that…” your finger points weakly to the condom by his thigh.
he thrusts shallowly. he’d never tire of the sound of his cum being forced into your cunt. “told you I was gonna make you a mommy. my beautiful wife.”
#tw noncon#tw forced breeding#steve harrington (belle’s version)#by belle !#bellesblurbs#bellegetsdark#dark!steve#dark!steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington Drabble#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington smut scenario#steve harrington smut blurb#st4#stranger things steve#stranger things steve harrington#stranger things steve x reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things 4#stranger things#steve#steve harrington
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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.
He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.
More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.
Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.
He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.
"Harrington?"
The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"
"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.
Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.
Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."
"Just needed some air. Clear my head."
"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.
"One or two,"
"Dozen?"
Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"
Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."
"Yeah, big news."
"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.
Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.
He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"
The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).
Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.
With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."
He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.
---
Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?
That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.
The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.
Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.
It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.
The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.
A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.
Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.
---
The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.
When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.
"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.
Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.
"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.
"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.
"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"
Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.
"It was you? Leaving the--?"
Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"
"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."
"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.
"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."
Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"
"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."
Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.
"Didn't want me to think what?"
"That you weren't loved, Stevie."
The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.
"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.
"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"
"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.
Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."
The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"
"Yeah, Stevie?"
"You wanna hangout some time?"
Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#one shot#secret admirer#fluff#a tiny bit of angst#friends to lovers#feelings realization#feelings confession#pining eddie munson#oblivious steve harrington#mutual crushes#high school au#eddie is in love with steve
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praline sweet
Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3
This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3
CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts
The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-
“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”
Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?
“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”
“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”
That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point.
So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-
And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend.
“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”
Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.
Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go.
The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie.
Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.
He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep.
Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”
The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”
Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.
“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.
“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”
Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens.
With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.
“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”
His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha.
Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-
He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same?
For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.
“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”
Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”
Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”
Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.
“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”
Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”
“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”
And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.
Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts.
“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”
“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”
Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”
Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”
The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.
“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”
Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.
It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.
“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”
Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.
Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.
#cj i hope you like this!!#we've talked before about pre-heat fluff and i just wanted to give you some of that#i did try to make it spicy but they were not cooperating 😔#so fluff it is#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#joey writes#omegaverse
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rentals & records ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader.
summary: eddie can't hide the fact that he's sort of obsessed with you, but you can't deny that you might be secretly obsessed with him too.
cw: 18+ content (minors, shoo!), fem!reader, oral sex (f&m receiving), soft sex, virgin!eddie
word count: 11.4k. someone shut me up pls.
request are always open!
“I really need to know who rents this thing out so much that the entire cover is starting to fall apart.” Steve’s holding up a horrible worn out version of a Cheech & Chong movie you can’t decipher the title of. You squint, hard. It was pretty faded, pun absolutely intended. Reefer Rick was still in prison, so that counted him out immediately—there could be only one other culprit.
The familiar clang of the entrance bell startled you half to death, sending you whipping around to look behind you.
“Harrington! How’s it been?” Eddie Munson, of course.
“Eddie.” Steve nods in greeting, sounding exhausted already. You kick him in the shin, eyes sending him a look of warning when he yelps in pain. “What brings you in?”
You three already knew the answer to that question. It was you. Eddie had used every reason under the sun to find a way to come visit you while you were working. It was kind of endearing, you couldn’t lie. But, Eddie was a friend. He had always been just a friend.
“Just returning a rental.” Eddie replies, waving the VHS above his head.
“I’ve got it.” You assure Steve, who couldn’t be bothered to leave the mess of already disorganized rentals he had to sort through. You couldn’t tell if it was the girl trouble—or lack thereof, that Steve was having that was causing him to be in such a slump, or the general lack of disinterest in his job.
“Eddie.” Your voice is dripping with sweetness, fingertips dragging along the counter as you scoot in behind the front desk. “Just returning?”
“Might take a quick look around, if you don’t mind.” He tells you, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Unless you’ve got some suggestions, princess?”
You let out a soft ‘hmph’, shaking your head at the nickname he had come up with. It started sophomore year of high school, a shitty jab at how prissy you acted—a lot of that was part of hanging around with the wrong crowd. But, now you had Steve—you balanced each other out pretty well. The word felt different coming from his mouth now, a lot less bite behind it. You had always been friends, but never close enough that you spent time with him outside of school or sat with him at lunch, to busy with the swarm of girls that flocked around each other, you being suck right into the center of it all. That didn't stop the dizzying feeling you felt every time he set his eyes on you.
“I’m fresh out.” You assure him with a playful smirk, you hesitantly point in Steve’s direction. “But, we just got one of your favorites back in, if you wanna rent it out.”
“My favorite?” He teases, curling a stray strand of hand around his finger. It was almost criminal how beautiful his hair was, never a piece out of place, a true work of art. “You keepin’ tabs on me?”
“It’s in the system, Eddie.” It was his most frequented rental and always came back reeking of weed—something you didn’t even know to be possible. “You’ve rented it out sixteen times.”
“Oh.” He deflated slightly—he seemed a little ashamed, maybe? You didn’t find it weird, not really—there’s no way you could admit how many times you’ve watched The Breakfast Club, something you would carry with you to the grave.
“Steve!” You shout, grabbing his attention. Your head nods in the direction of Eddie—and like Steve was a mind reader, tosses the rental in your direction. You catch it with ease, tossing it on the counter. A stoner’s favorite, that was for sure.
“You rent these out to high school students?” Eddie asks from an obscure corner of the store—“Robocock. Huh, that’s fucking hilarious.”
Steve’s at a loss for words, glancing at you from his hiding spot, surfing through his ever growing pile. You stifle that laugh that comes out at the sight of his horrified face. You didn’t understand why Steve looked so scandalized when you knew he snuck out the adult film rentals on a regular basis. He just wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.
“You’re twenty, Eddie.” You remind him, “Not seventeen.”
He shrugs, tossing it back on the shelf. “Got any new releases?”
You think for a moment, “No, not for the past few weeks. I guess you’ll just have to suffer through a few more rewatches of those ridiculous little stoner movies you like.”
“Hey, not ridiculous.” His ringed finger is pointing in your direction, he’s slowly making his way back toward the cash register, glancing aimlessly down the aisle, eyes not really landing on anything in particular—except for you. “They’re a cinematic masterpiece.”
Entirely too unconvinced, you hold your hand out, waiting for him to slide over his ID. “You just gotta give ‘em a try, I swear.” He adds, setting the card in your hand gently.
He’s got the biggest grin on his face, which wasn’t out of the norm for him, but his eyes lingered on your for a little too long and that last thing you wanted to think was that it was meant entirely for you. Because no, absolutely not. You could not handle another boy wrecking your life, right now.
“No, Robocock?” You tease, the word sounds even more lewd than you had intended.
While you had never partaken in the content yourself, you were aware. You just couldn’t handle the cheesy lines and horrible faked situations that ended with someone getting pounded over an object that looked way too uncomfortable to be spread out over—they were a hard, hard no.
You clear your throat awkwardly, realizing how caught off guard Eddie looked—like you had insulted his all time favorite metal band and shit on his choice of music all in one go—you could never shit on Eddie’s music choice, not when you indulged in the same songs on a daily basis. But really, he was at a loss of words.
“Maybe next time.” He says slowly, trying to recover from whatever the fuck just happened.
“Sweet.” You drag out, attempting to input the rental information into the decrepit contraption in front of you, waiting for what felt like hours for it to finally rise from the dead. “And you’re good, here—“
“Are you busy this weekend?” Eddie asks suddenly, jarring you out of reality for a moment. His voice quieter, like he was hoping Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.
“Yeah, actually.” You tell him. It wasn’t an excuse, you were working a double shift to cover Steve’s ass because you were an amazing friend who cared about their well-being and ability to potentially help your friend get laid. “I have to work all weekend.”
“Oh—sounds like torture.” He jokes, tapping the VHS idly against the counter. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and you hate how disappointed that makes you feel. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again this weekend then, princess.”
“Can’t wait.” You reply teasingly, causing Eddie to chuckle quietly in response. “God knows I’ll be boring myself to death all weekend.”
“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no worries.” He adds, adjusting the front of his jacket, displaying the infamous Hellfire Club tee he dawned underneath.
“I’ll hold you to that.” You wiggle a finger at him, watching intently as he made a show of swinging a fake sword, walking backwards toward the door, not realizing that he was about to run smack into another customer.
“Hey, fuckin’ watch it, kid.” A much older man shouts, shoving past Eddie. You can’t help but laugh.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Your shift at Family Video on Saturday is entirely too uneventful, aside from the two underage kids who tried to sneak in and steal some of the content from the adult section, which then promptly ended in them being embarrassed by half of the store during one of the busier hours of the day. You shooed them away quickly and suffered through the rest of that god forsaken shift—boy, was that a story for Steve.
Thankfully, Sunday comes quickly and you’re shuffling out of your house at the speed of light, trying to make it before opening time to set up the store in peace.
“Don’t forget, sweetheart—I need you to cover the store for a few hours while I’m gone tonight.” Your dad spoke, stopping you at the front door. You nod your head fervently, assuring him that he had nothing to worry about.
“Gotcha, I’ll make sure to lock up everything, don’t worry.”
He was definitely going to remind you about ten more times.
He owned a small record store on the corner of downtown, right across from the frequently visited supermarket that almost the entire town went to. It was great for business, amazing in fact, always bringing back the old customers, but happily welcoming in the new ones. It was his prized possession and probably the only reason you leaned so heavily into loving music.
You spend an hour setting up shop at Family Video—wiping down counters, checking on any new stock, and finally settling down into a spot to sort through rentals that either needed to be thrown out or re-shelved. It was monotonous, but enough to keep you busy—busy enough that the store had already been open for at least a half hour, you not even bothering to flip on the neon sign that hung from the front window of the store.
“This might help.” The familiar voice says,, nearly scaring the life out of you. You grasp your chest in horror, falling ass first onto the floor. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“Jesus, Eddie—the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask, standing at full height, the top of your head barely reaching his nose. “You cannot sneak up on people like that.”
“I figured you heard me come in—plus, the doors were unlocked.” Fair point. Still, you were annoyed. “Really, you okay?”
“Yeah.” You huff, smoothing the dust off of your pants and adjusting the horrible, itchy work vest you wore. “Just, please—never do that again.”
“Cross my heart.” Eddie replies endearingly, hand pressed against his chest. He leans forward, noticing the small button on your vest that read ‘Ask me about Science Fiction!’, he flicks it amusingly.
“So, any good suggestions for me today?” He asks, “maybe something science fiction-y?” Eddie’s fishing for something, you’re just not sure what. You steal the previous rental from his hands, placing it on the counter.
“I would suggest Star Wars, but I think that’s an obvious one—you’ve probably already seen it.” You travel down the row, Eddie not very far behind.
“I haven’t.”
Your mouth practically drops to the floor in shock—of course Eddie hadn’t seen it, this man knew of three things—weed, heavy rock music, and more weed.
“What? Is that bad?” His eyebrow is quirked up inquisitively, bracing both hands against the top of surrounding rows.
“It’s a fucking crime, Eddie.” You slap the rental into his chest, grabbing his hand to force it into his hold and out of yours.
He’s laughing, turning on his heels to follow you obediently. Truly, he just hadn’t found the time to actually sit down and enjoy it, it wasn’t entirely his fault.
“So, Star Wars—check.” He lists off, “Anything else?”
“You should probably start off slow.” You suggest coyly, patting his arm. “No need to over indulge, then you won’t be able to put them down.”
That was his problem exactly. He’d overindulged into you and now—he just couldn’t quit, he had to know everything. Likes, dislikes, why you always came to school with such a sour puss look on your face, or why you always ate lunch in your car instead of inside the cafeteria—why you always made sure to bump into him in the hallway just to find a reason to speak to him in front of his friends (okay, maybe you definitely went out of your way to talk to him as often as you could.) —not that he cared, but he wasn’t losing his mind when he noticed that his interest wasn’t completely one-sided.
And yeah, maybe Eddie was just what you needed, but boys—boys were off limits. School, work, home. That’s how your life worked and it worked well. Routine was the only thing that kept you on such a straight line. Aside from that freshman hook up with Jason, then Jay from Band class, and that one—very quick—time with Aaron from Physics, there was also the other Erin—in contrast, she’d been an absolute dream to experience, both as a friend and someone who you felt safe enough sharing some of your firsts with. So maybe you weren’t as focused as you should’ve been—but you were trying, that counted, right?
“Princess,” Eddie’s voice brings you back to the surface, his fingers snapping in your face to break you from the trance you had fallen in, “time to come back to the land of the living.”
“Sorry,” You smile sheepishly, “What were you saying?”
He has the nerve to look smug, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t say anything. You just went blank and—“ He waves his hands wildly in your direction, as if that made any sense.
You try to calm your thoughts, your mind, focusing yourself with the task at hand—get Eddie Munson out of here as soon as possible.
“Got that spare copy of Robo—“ You pull the copy of the horrible named porno from under the desk where you had left. That section was a nightmare to sort through. “Oh, well there was supposed to be a joke there—but now I forgot.” He seemed caught off guard by the idea that you already knew exactly what he was gearing to say. “You hidin’ it for yourself or something?”
“God no.” You scoff, typing idly. “I never step foot in that area of the store—that’s all Harrington’s domain.”
Eddie extends his hand out, making a soft grabbing motion toward the object in your hand. You offer it up cautiously, watching as he saunters over to the section and plopped it right back into the spot it belonged.
Well, that was one way to make the job easier. Actually—
“Hey, are you busy right now?” It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s still worth it.
“Depends on why you’re asking.” Eddie says slowly, palms resting against the counter upon his return. He’s eyeing you carefully, you try not to look away.
“I could use the help sorting,” You start, pointing at the pile you hadn’t even made a dent in yet, “and I’ve gotta cover a shift at the record store in a few hours, so I’d really like to get this shit done, preferably today.”
“Record store? The one over by Bradley’s Big Buy?” Eddie perked up out of nowhere. “I go there all the time.”
“Yeah.” You reply is slow, methodical. “My dad owns it.”
“No fuckin’ way.” If Eddie was trying to hide the fact that you may have just become his favorite person ever, he was doing a terrible job. His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You know what—you help me get through all of this before my shift ends and I’ll let you sift through the storage in the back of the record shop where we keep the real gems, let you take a few as a reward for your hard work. Deal?” You hold out your hand, waiting for the deal to be set in stone.
“Oh, hell yeah.” Eddie says, shaking your hand firmly.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The keys jingle as you fiddle with the lock on the door. Eddie’s feet doing a soft pitter-patter behind you. He was antsy as hell, more so than you had ever seen him. It was driving you insane—you turn abruptly to look at him.
“Eddie, seriously—I’m going to have to strap you to a chair if you don’t stop.” He didn’t think you were serious, but you were absolutely willing to do whatever was needed.
“Sorry.” He says softly, the shuffling coming to a stop a few moments after. You offer him a warm smile, finally managing to force the lock to turn, opening the back entrance to the shop.
The smell was something you could never forget. It was similar to the smell of old books, mixed with the sweet smell of cinnamon. The small area that encased the back of the store was for employees—a lounge area fit for a few people with a small kitchenette attached. You glance back at Eddie, who hadn’t moved from the spot he was in. You grab for his wrist, gently yanking him inside and shutting the door behind you.
“When I said stop I didn’t mean freeze.” You joke playfully, continuing to hold onto the sleeve of his jacket as you tug him through the rest of the way, turning another corner to reach the storage room. “A few rules—none of the boxes off the top shelf, mostly because I don’t want you hurting yourself and I have no idea how sturdy those things are and two, you don’t speak a word of this to anyone—not a single soul, Eddie Munson.”
“Heard, boss.” He nods eagerly.
“Voila.” Throwing your hand out to the side fancifully, allowing him a grand entrance into the only sacred part of this building.
If anyone found out about this, you were surely dead.
“There’s a few first editions in here, some misprints, a lot of represses and remasters—it’s a lot so just…have at it.” Eddie’s holding his hands close to his body, afraid that if he touches anything it was going to disintegrate into a pile of dust, which was very well possible.
“Personally, I’d go with a copy of Ozzy or Iron Maiden, these are almost impossible to get your hands on.” You pull out the two covers simultaneously, parading them out for show. His smile is genuine, but it doesn’t seem to be what he’s looking for.
He scans around for a minute before finally stopping on a box a few feet away. “Aha!” Eddie exclaims, holding the piece up in front of him. “Found you.”
Metallica. You should’ve known. It was a damn good album, even you could attest to that. “Good choice.” You nudge him gently, sifting through the box in front of him. If he wants to say something, he doesn’t. Eddie bites his tongue, for once. It was way too much to unpack in one evening—the idea of some popular priss of the school like you even recognizing how absolutely metal this album was.
“Actually, I think I’ll stick with this.” Eddie tells you, following your lead as you exited the storage room. He didn’t want to be greedy or take advantage of the situation and you were fine with that, it was nice, actually. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever managed to have a conversation with a boy that didn’t end with him asking to shove a hand up your shirt, or worse.
Though, Eddie’s own bubble of bliss popped at the sound of a voice carrying through to the back of the store, eyes widening in fear. You panic, shoving him into a dark corner, down one of the rows, yanking him down to squat out of sight.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to worry about your dad showing up?!” Eddie says in a hushed whisper, eyes showing how desperate he was to escape this situation.
You silence him with the palm of your hand, pulling him lower, almost on top of you, to avoid being seen. You turn to peek from under the legs that held up the bins of records, watching as your father wandered around until he found what he was looking for—his wallet, of all fucking things. Eddie says something into your hand, but it’s muffled. You swat him gently, but it’s enough to warrant a warning—and the look you give him... he obeys almost immediately.
The moment you two are finally alone again, you both collapse with a loud sigh on the floor—hearts pounding out of your chest.
“Am I dead?” Eddie asks, staring up at the ceiling. You lean over him, popping into his line of sight.
“If you’re dead, I guess I’ll have to take back that copy of—“ You slowly reach for the record he still had a death grip on.
“No, no. Anything but that.” He begs, holding it closer to his chest. You chuckle softly, pushing yourself up. Eddie follows suit slowly, still reeling from the aftermath of what had just happened.
“Wanna listen for a bit?” You suggest, trying to ease some of his nerves. “I’ve got a few minutes until I have to open shop and that record player up front is top of the fuckin’ line. It sounds amazing.”
“You wanna listen? To Metallica?” He asks, confirming what he had suspected earlier, but it still didn’t help hide the bewilderment he was experiencing.
“The fact that I know you’re judging me so hard is kind of an asshole move, Munson.” You tease, grabbing the vinyl from his hand and setting it onto the record player.
It crackles to life, almost like magic, the song begins to play dimly in the background. You didn’t want to risk blowing the speakers out this early, so a manageable volume seemed appropriate.
“I’m not judging, I swear. I just—I had no idea, you know.” He’s leaning against the wall, hands crossed loosely over his chest. “Metal heads are a rare breed, they think we’re all fuckin’ nuts.”
“Aren’t we?” You joke, perched against the top of one of the leather chairs arranged near the entrance.
“There’s no way you’re real.” Eddie shakes his head with disbelief, running a twitchy hand through the back of his hair. It makes your heart twinge, the way he sounds so exasperated over the whole thing.
“I’m very real.” You remind him, poking gently at his arm. Eddie makes a small sound, a huff of laughter, though pained in the way it never actually leaves his mouth. “You okay, Eddie?”
“Yeah. Yeah, fine.”
Eddie was either impossible to read, or showing his emotions on his sleeve, there was no in-between. But right now, you were struggling to decipher why he seemed so off—switching from foot to foot nervously, fingers pulling at the loose thread on his jacket absently, chewing softly at his bottom lip like he’s trying desperately to stop himself from talking.
Screw always staying on the straight and narrow, you were taking the damn leap. You reach out for the hand that was tugging at a flimsy piece thread, fingers wrapping loosely around his own. His gaze is soft, looking up at you ever so slightly. “Eddie, you can talk to me.”
“Huh.” It’s a quiet sound, but you watch that way his chest bounces at the action. He’s eerily silent, like he can’t find the words to talk—but you could do enough of that for the both of you.
“Okay, don’t talk to me.” It comes out wrong, condescending. You scramble for a moment, “Not—I mean, I want you to feel like you can talk to me, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too.” It’s a gentle reminder that no matter what, you respected his boundaries.
I’m kind of obsessed with you—is what he wants to say. But he can’t. He can’t even form the words. Any words. He takes a long, deep breath to calm himself.
“Please don’t hate me for this.”
“Why would I—“ Oh.
It felt…too good, too right, too entirely fuckin’ real. You can’t even find it in you to pull back, inhaling shakily against Eddie’s mouth, parting just enough to give you the space you needed to let your brain catch up with the rest of your body.
“Still don’t hate you.” You whisper into the air between you both, lips still close enough that they graze against his with every movement.
“Good.” He sighs, reaching forward to press one last sweet, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a lot less scandalous than you anticipated—not that you ever imagined kissing Eddie Munson...but still, definitely better than any expectation you might’ve had.
“Eddie, I really have to work.” You say with nothing but regret, feeling like cutting this short was a lousy attempt at escaping the situation, which was so far from what you wanted to do, but you couldn’t even process what was happening, not fully, at least. “We can talk later, if you want.”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie still sounds defeated, backing away slowly. He didn’t know what he was expecting, really. There was no way you would immediately fall head over heels, prepared with some sort of epic love confession. Still, he was disappointed with himself for not being able to express things differently.
You sigh, trying to find some way to reassure the poor boy standing before you. “We can shelf this,” You thought it was kinda cheesy, he did too. His smile is enough to make you feel a little bit better about cutting him off so quickly, “and you can call this number when you feel like talking to me.”
Reaching for the pen sitting on the clipboard on the table beside you, you scribble down a fury of numbers on a line of paper and shove it into his palm. You couldn’t do mixed signals, friends or not—if Eddie had something he wanted to say, you needed to hear it, he needed to hear himself say it. You needed it to be real.
“I’ll wait.”
As long as it would take.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
A day passes, then two, three—nearly a week and Eddie still hasn’t bothered to call you, no matter how much time you spent sitting by the landline all evening, going so far as to study and eat dinner within arms reach of the phone, wondering why he still hadn’t called.
Maybe he had changed his mind, and that was fine, but it was still a kick in the ass—a reminder that you couldn’t let silly little crushes distract you like this. Eddie even avoided you in the hallway more often, taking a left toward his mandatory PE class, rather than taking the long way around to have a conversation with you. You felt ashamed, embarrassed that you had even allowed him to kiss you, it made you feel vulnerable.
After a week of silence and too many eerily quiet shifts at Family Video, enough is enough. And as luck would have it, you find him on a Friday night, digging through a discount bin at your dad’s record store—which, you should have known. But what was more astonishing, was how long he had managed to avoid you, here, of all places.
“We’re closing in ten, folks!” Your dad’s voice bellows through the place, warning the very few stragglers left that if they weren’t out within that time, it would be an issue. “Hiya, sweetheart.”
Eddie whips around at the speed of light, eyes landing on you immediately. You can’t help but look smug, arms crossed tightly over your chest. He tries to compose himself, turning back to the bin and continuing to browse through.
What an asshole, you think.
“Hey.” It’s simple, short, an easy way to start a conversation.
“Hi.” His voice doesn’t waver, but he sure as hell doesn’t look at you.
“If you’re not going to say anything, I will.” He’d done enough tiptoeing the past week, you just wanted an explanation.
He sighs, looking up at you slowly. “I know. I’m a dick for ignoring you.” He wasn’t wrong, you definitely felt it was a dick move that way he handled things. But, you hated holding grudges, especially against someone like Eddie, who you never hated to begin with.
“I get it, if you didn’t want to talk about what happened—it’s fine, but I still like talking to you, Eddie. You wouldn’t even look at me during lunch or any time I passed you in the halls—and don’t forget how late you are on returning that copy of ‘A New Hope’.” You point a feebly accusing finger in his direction, poking gently at his chest.
“I did.” He admits, “I gave it to Harrington and he handled it for me.”
Brows furrowed, your gaze ices over. “You went through me—to Steve?!” Now that, that stung. “You couldn’t even return a rental because I scared you off that much?”
“You didn’t scare me!”
You both freeze, not entirely sure where the outburst stunned from, luckily enough the store had emptied already. Still, that left a very clueless father of yours to watch the whole conversation unravel.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” He says, but it’s mostly directed at you. He slips the store keys into your hand. “Lock up and don’t stay out too late.”
You’ve never been more thankful for having such relaxed parents.
“You didn’t scare me.” Eddie repeats himself, more relaxed but still tense around the edges.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” You push. “Was kidding me really that horrible?”
“No—god, no. I have—I don’t really,” He takes a breath, hand steady out in front of himself between the space you two held, “I’ve never talk to people that I like—everyone thinks I’m this freak that worships that devil when all I really do is—“
“Play D&D with underclassmen and listen to metal rock at ungodly volumes from the inside of your van?” You ask, seemingly shutting him up. “Eddie, I know—the only people that believe that shit are the ones that can’t even look at themselves in the mirror and face who they are.”
You pull him toward the seating nook near the front of the store, forcing him down on the old leather couch shoved against the wall, allowing him the time he needs before he speaks again. You didn’t glance over his admission at liking you, but it was so painfully obvious that bringing it up again might do more harm than good, teasing him was the last thing you wanted to do. It was better to let him find the words he needed to express how he felt, that’s what you’d been waiting for—nearly a week now.
“I kissed you and it screwed everything up. I was so caught up in this idea of what I thought you were that when I realized who you actually were—I didn’t know how to respond, so I kissed you.”
“I do have interests, Eddie. I’m not some robot. They may not be what you expected, but the person I am at school, that’s not me. It’s what I want people to see—outside of school, I don’t have to force that image that I throw on. It’s just me.” You kept the two things on different sides of the universe, not that you weren’t ashamed of the fake act you put on around everyone, but it was the least complicated thing that somehow made sense in your mind.
You continue talking, Eddie forced to do nothing but listen. “I like Kate Bush and Journey—fuckin’ Metallica. My dad taught me how to play D&D when I was twelve for fucks sake. I love nerdy shit and maybe I’m ashamed to tell people that, but I’m sure as hell not afraid to like it.”
Eddie could’ve sworn his brain short-circuited at your admission, not that it was something groundbreaking, but it was something he had failed to notice on his own, how easily he overlooked you and believed in the show you put on for everyone else.
“I always thought you looked at me as some weird freak that annoyed you all the time.” He laughs quietly, fingers rubbing against the side of his rings absently.
“Annoyed me, yes.” You giggle softly, “Looked at you like you were some weird freak? Never. That’s a little hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“Well, now I just feel like an asshole.” Eddie admits, smirking ever so slightly. “I should’ve noticed.”
“That was the whole point, Eddie.” You tell him, thumping his forehead gently. He gasps, rubbing the spot dramatically, as if you actually did any damage. “You think I didn’t know what you were doing these past few months? Visiting me at work, purposely saving the seat behind me in class just so you could bother me for answers—you could’ve just talked to me, Eddie. The idea that you think that I think I’m too good for you—it hurts.”
“Everything is fucked up now.” He says, it being the only conclusion he could come to. There was no rectifying what he had ruined, not in his mind.
“It’s not,” you remind him, slowly standing from your seat to pull from the stack of records by the record player, the beginnings of some random pop-ish song you’ve never heard of filling the room, “and since you want to be so self-deprecating, I’m going to make you sit through this god awful song until you realize that not only do I not hate you—I would let you kiss me again, and again, and ag—“
Eddie grips your head firmly, hand cradling the back of your head, fingers all wound up in your hair. He’s got his mouth on you, this time completely unashamed, all him and no impulse. It’s a little sloppy, the way his mouth meets yours. You weren’t ready for it, but to say that your mouth wasn’t a perfect fit against his own, that was a blatant lie. You two fit together well, his lips slotting against yours perfectly. He smells like weed and pine and nature, it’s your favorite smell in the world now.
“And again, and again.” Eddie mocks against your lips when you two finally come up for air. He couldn’t tell you where the sudden act of boldness came from, his body working purely on feeling and adrenaline.
“We gotta stop doing this.” You say, pulling back just enough to look at him.
“Kissing? Because I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to—“
“No, turning this record shop into our sacred make out spot.”
Eddie snorts at that, pulling back even more, head thrown back in a small fit of laughter. “I wouldn’t call that making out, would you?”
“You know what I mean.” You shove him lightly, nearly pushing him off you. But, he doesn’t let go.
Silence falls over you both, neither of you finding the words to break it. It didn’t feel wrong, crossing this line. Eddie wasn’t some forbidden fruit you couldn’t have a taste of—though he couldn’t say the same for you, but there were definitely some things that needed to be worked through.
“You’re not my boyfriend,” You tell him sternly and outright, “not yet. But, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to let you kiss me if you want to.”
“You’re not afraid of what people will say?” It’s the first genuine question that you can immediately answer, not an inkling of doubt behind it.
“I don’t give a shit what people think about who I associate myself with.” You reply honestly, eyes conveying an openness you only reserved for the people closest to you.
“Won’t it tank your reputation?” He laughs, fingers coming up to play with a stray piece of hair framing your face. “Can’t stay popular when you have a freak like me following you around.”
“Doubtful.” The students of Hawkins were so desperate for leadership, they would follow you without question. It was a gross thing to think about, but some people couldn’t be bothered to think for themselves and would rather have other people do it for them. “I think I scare a lot of people.”
Eddie nods, almost like he can relate. “You can be a little terrifying.”
“Good.” You say proudly, finally managing to separate yourself from Eddie, even if you really didn’t want to.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
He kisses you that following Monday, square on the mouth, in front of not only his entire group of friends from Hellfire, but the entire senior class, including a few other underclassmen that lingered in the hallway for far too long. It’s puzzling at first, you’re confused, but you manage to fix your face quickly, smiling up at the boy standing in front of you.
“You really like drawing a crowd, Munson.” You tease, voice hushed so only he could hear.
“It’s a talent.” He remarks, gesturing wildly with his face, fingers pointed up to mimic devil horns, tongue stuck out for extra flair.
He was unapologetically himself and it was refreshing. You didn’t realize how hard everyone was staring until he’s left your side, and maybe you should feel ashamed, but the moment you attempt to lock eyes with any of them, they’re averting their eyes at the speed of light. Good—mind your damn business, you think.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
He still pesters you at Family Video every other day, but not nearly as much as before. Fortunately for Steve, he was receiving most of the attention now—and even if he would never admit it, he was warming up to Eddie.
“He asked if I could sell him some weed.” Eddie tells you one day, unprovoked and out of the blue. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head in surprise.
“You know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tell him, hands up in defense. “Just know, Steve has the tolerance of a mouse—beer, weed, whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Oh what, and little miss perfect’s never smoked a joint before?”
“Never.” You assure him. You weren’t one to judge, to each their own, but you never found any interest in actually trying it.
“And somehow you’ve got a crush on the one dude who smokes weed on a daily basis.” Eddie teases, finger jabbing your cheek softly. You can’t help but smile.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The first time Eddie invites you to his trailer is rather uneventful. You meet his uncle, briefly. He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but he’s still pleasantly surprised to see his nephew talking to someone, no matter who they were.
You two end up eating silently, talking about random and obscure things that only made sense between the four walls you both existed in.
“Favorite D&D class—go.” Eddie shoots a finger gun your way, grape shoved halfway into your mouth.
“Easy, rogue.” Stealth & trickery, that one was built for you. “Your turn.”
“Bard.” He says after a careful moment of thinking. “I don’t think that really needs much explaining.” Eddie says, flashing the beautiful guitar that hung on his wall, his most prized possession. “Plus, I’m super fuckin’ charming.”
“That you are.” You whisper softly, leaning forward to pull him in for a kiss. It’s cut entirely too short by Eddie pulling away, shoving another bit of food into his own mouth.
“Eat first, kiss later.” He orders.
And it’s not against your own human nature when you only receive so much as a few kisses before you’re leaving that night, wondering if maybe you were pushing too hard.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
So, you dial things back. It was fine if Eddie was making an attempt at slowing things down on purpose—the problem was, you weren’t used to it. You blame that partially on the fact that you’ve never gotten involved in anything more than a quick hookup. It was a foreign concept.
But Eddie does seem to take notice that you’re trying to create more distance at his expense and that just won’t do. So he’ll slide his hand up the back of your shirt, over the curve of your ass, a gentle tug on your hair when he’s kissing the life out of you from the driver’s side of his van, parked in the makeshift driveway outside his trailer home.
But, it constantly leaves you wanting more. You want him to touch you everywhere, constantly thinking about how his hands would feel around your thighs, running up the plane of your breasts, around your neck—and maybe you can blame it on the late surge of teenage hormones running through your body at eighteen.
And when the words finally left your mouth a few weeks later, laid out underneath Eddie on his unmade bed, you weren’t really sure what to expect.
“Are you scared to have sex with me?” You ask, voice sounding entirely too small in this big room. “Did I do something wrong?”
He lifts his head from where it’s resting on your chest, “What?”
“Are you waiting until marriage? Because if you are—that’s fine, but I really didn’t see that coming from you—not that I’m judging, it’s a valid choice.” You spit out in one breath, trying to compensate for how shitty you felt after asking him that.
“I’m a virgin.” He blurts out at once.
“O-oh. Okay.” You say slowly, caught off-guard by the admission. “I’m sorry, I just assumed that—“
“I’ve made out with people before and done a few other things but,” He tells you, “I’ve just never..”
“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, sitting up in his bed to look at him clearly, “I feel like a total asshole now.”
“Believe me, I want to have sex with you.” He looks so damn earnest, his palm resting against your knee, thumb rubbing against the skin gently. “I just don’t want to disappoint—gotta live up to the reputation, you know?”
“You’ve never even come close?” You ask curiously. It seemed like a harmless enough question to ask.
“Yeah—a few times. I always cut things short, though. I’ve had people offer me sex and blowies in exchange for weed, but that just feels wrong on so many levels.”
You nod slowly, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not gonna push you or anything. It doesn’t have to be some big, monumental thing we have to tiptoe around. We can just…figure it out as we go.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The next couple months are easy, creeping up toward Christmas, impatiently awaiting a much needed break from school, work—even life. You wanted to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a week straight. Between your constant work shifts, covering Steve for dates because you’re way too nice of a friend, and still making sure to spend time with Eddie, you were worn out. Not that Eddie was a chore, but it felt like you couldn’t give him your full, undivided attention when your mind was constantly thinking of your schedule for the next day.
When you finally do manage to reward yourself with a few glorious days off, you spend them locked up in your room, just as you intended.
Tap. Tap. It was nearly eleven at night, who in the hell could possible be—
Eddie’s head pops into view, clearly struggling to keep himself upright. You scramble to the window, opening it up to pull him inside.
“Are you insane?” You ask, helping him step over the threshold without face planting on to the carpet. “My parents are asleep downstairs—if they find you up here this late, I’m dead. Dead, Eddie.”
“I’ll be quiet.” He smiles, fingers crossed over his heart in a way that told you he meant it.
“What did you want?” You ask, not really trying to sound like an asshole, but your exhaustion is making it seem that way.
“Wanted to see you.” He shrugs, plopping himself down on your bed. He’s holding his hands out too, hoping you would follow suit.
He nearly manhandles you over his lap, letting you rest against his thighs. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask, hands resting against his lower abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. “Is this a late night booty call?”
“A what—“ He looks genuinely confused, “nevermind.”
“Oh, so you just missed me?” You tease, hands crawling up the expanse of his chest, you reach forward to kiss teasingly against the bit of his chest that was exposed from his top, right above his tattoo. “That’s cute.”
“I had an idea.” Oh no, you think. It was either going to be something completely outlandish or—who the fuck were you kidding? This was Eddie. “Since you’ve been so stressed lately.”
“Yeah?” You reply eagerly, ready for any type of distraction to help take your mind off of everything.
“Let me go down on you.” And if there was a list of things that you never expected to hear Eddie Munson say, that was nearing the top.
“Eddie Munson.” You respond, sounding scandalized.
“Don’t tell me you’re turning down an orgasm.” He responds cockily, almost full of himself.
“I thought you said you-“
“I’m not that clueless, princess.” Well then. “Now, lay down.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Definitely not clueless. Not in the slightest of ways.
Eddie’s mouth his way down the inside of your thigh, biting and licking at your skin in a way that has you squirming desperately.
“No fingers.” He tells you.
You nod. At a loss of words for the first time in your life.
“Just my mouth.” He says around a particularly sensitive spot, sucking lightly. “That’s all I need.”
He sounds entirely too sure of himself.
“We can make a deal, if you’re that confident.” You challenge, head craning down to look at him from in between your legs. He gives you a look that signals for you to keep talking, not bothering to stop the desperate attack on your skin that was surely going to leave marks the next morning.
“You make me come—I’ll blow you.” You say breathlessly, squirming again as the heat from his breath hits your bare cunt. “Deal?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He starts gentle, easy, separating your folds with his tongue and teasing at your clit. You sigh, admiring the sight of Eddie’s head tucked between your legs, face buried into the apex of your thighs. It seemed like a bold statement at first, the idea of Eddie making you come with nothing but his mouth—but you realize your own feeble mistake. Eddie turned you on enough that he didn’t need to use fingers, you could come with just his mouth—hell, just the sight of him between your legs had your thighs clenching around his head, caging him in place.
The hand that isn’t resting against your stomach pulls against the inside of your thigh, forcing your legs open wider, and wider. He’s practically drinking you in now, switching between licking and sucking at your sensitive clit in intervals that had your body arching in pleasure and agony—agony at the fact that this couldn’t continue on forever.
“You’re such a liar.” You force out through clenched teeth, his chuckle is apparent as it vibrates against your cunt, sending you reeling.
“Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t compensate in other areas.” And then he’s back to work.
“Oh, oh fuck.” You’re desperately trying to keep your voice down, the only solution being for you to cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the moans that Eddie was pulling out of you. “This is cruel.”
“You’re really wet.” He observes, pulling back to allow you both a breather, “It’s all over your sheets.”
“Shit happens—I’ll wash them later—just keep going, please.” You rush out, using your hands to physically direct him back to your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit as his tongue dipped inside of you.
You were passed caring at this point, desperate for the orgasm that was building in your lower abdomen. You’ve got the sheets in a knuckle white grip, gasping at every lick and nudge he made against your sensitive and swollen clit, face burning with the heat of how close you were, flushed a deep red.
“Gonna come, Eddie.” You warn, which only encourages him further. And god, the mouth on him. He’s licking desperately at your cunt, your juices and his spit mixing together to create a glorious slippery mess that created the perfect amount of friction.
And he feels it coming, the way your fingers grip the hair at the base of his head, he reaches up to cover your mouth, you clasp your own hand over his—and finally, you let go.
“Christ.” You say on an exhale, dizzy from what had to be the single most hardest orgasm you’ve ever felt. “Get the fuck up here, Eddie.”
“And just like that,” He snaps, “stress free.” His face is wet still, covered in you, and you can’t help but laugh. “What, something on my face?” You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt to wipe away the mess from his mouth.
“All good.” You assure him, patting his chest gently. It takes a while for you to finally gain your bearings, but eventually you do. “And like I said—a deal is a deal.” You turn to look at him, enjoying the way he’s spread out on your bed, smug and jovial. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
He nods, “With a gorgeous someone like you asking to suck my dick? Absolutely.”
Eddie sure had a way with words.
“Here, turn this way.” You tell him, tapping his thigh softly so he’d move.
“Why can’t I—“ You drop to your knees on the soft carpet of your floor, fitting perfectly between his legs. “Oh.”
You unbuckle his belt, fumbling a little with the loops, so you forgo trying to take the whole thing off and just focus on being able to unbutton his pants. He pushes them down, letting them pool around his ankles.
Eddie doesn't really know where to put his hands, first his thighs, then the sheets and back again. “Do I just—“
You place his hands on either side of him, wrapped around the edge of the mattress and—Jesus, was that more a turn on than having his head between your thighs, his rings shining prominently against the pale skin of his fingers.
“Just keep them there and flow with whatever works, Eddie. You tell me what feels good.” He nods softly.
He’s hard already, reeling off the high of going down on you, so instead of trying to tease him any longer—which you weren’t sure he could handle, you peel his underwear down, enough to where it drops on its own and you can finally admire his dick in full view, completely bare.
You didn’t realize you had your bottom lip pulled underneath your top row of teeth until Eddie was rubbing gently at your chin, staring down at you with gentle, loving eyes. It’s so sickeningly sweet that you want to burst into tears.
“No fingers?” You tease. “Just my mouth?”
“I think we can make an exception in this case.”
You waste no time in wrapping your hand around his shaft, Eddie swallowing audibly from above you. Still in one piece, that was good. You move slowly, a few long, languid strokes of his dick until you’re peering up at him asking, “Is this good?”
Contrary to whatever Eddie might be thinking, you’ve never actually had anyone’s anything in your mouth. Handjobs were easy, quick—but you’d never gone so far as to give a blowjob to any guy you’ve ever hooked up with. This was all new territory for you.
“Here.” Eddie has a firm grip around your hand, pushing you to squeeze a little tight, tug faster, enough to build a steady pace of both pressure and friction. “Shit—like that. That’s good.”
He sighs shakily, leaning more into the weight of his arm, praying to whatever god out there that it was enough to keep him upright.
You lean forward to lick at the tip carefully, he’s quiet and methodical, like he’s trying to focus on something. His eyes are shut right, hands now balled into fists.
Another lick this time, from the base of his dick to the tip before you’re swallowing him down, using your hands to follow what your mouth couldn’t. Unfortunately for you, gag reflexes were definitely still a thing and you weren’t going to force what wouldn’t fit—and there was a lot of Eddie that wasn’t going to fit. He was, without a doubt, bigger than any other person you’d been with—not so comical that it didn’t seem real, but it was more than enough.
“Fuck, this is gonna over way to quick.” He groans, “Slow-slow down.”
“Hands in my hair.” You tell him, guiding a hand toward the back of your head, he obeys easily, fingers twisted into the hair at the base of your neck. “Control the pace, I’ll follow.”
“You’re not real.” He breathes out in disbelief, rewarding him by swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick before your lips wrap around it, sucking lightly.
He moans louder than you initially expected, both of you pulling back in shock, your hand immediately darting toward his mouth.
“Don’t think I won’t shove something in your mouth if you want to keep that up.” You warned halfheartedly, but you were definitely more serious than playful.
“I can’t make any promises, sweetheart.” Well, you appreciated the honesty.
You suck him down again, as fully as possible, keeping a steady rhythm around his dick. He’s holding himself together better, but he’s still pretty noisy regardless. You reach aimlessly for something, anything, to shove in his mouth.
“Back pocket of my jeans,” He says, practically whining, “the—fuck, just grab it, you know what I’m talking about.”
You quickly yank at the black handkerchief in the pocket of his jeans, shoving it quickly into his mouth on the uptick of another groan, muffled perfectly by the fabric.
He bucks his hips on a particular downward motion of your mouth, the back of his dick hitting your throat and nearly causing you to gag, but you recover, bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm. Eddie can’t even focus on his own thoughts at this point, he sounds insufferable. He’s gone from upright to sprawled across your sheets, gasping underneath the confines of the cloth.
“Gonna come,” Eddie forces out, quickly unstuffing his mouth, patting your shoulder gently as a warning, “you gotta pull off.”
You do and just in time for Eddie to spill over his stomach, his shirt having thankfully ridden up enough in his constant squirming that it narrowly managed to miss it. He’s clearly forcing himself to keep quiet, feeling himself coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm he’s ever received by another person. You try not to sit too long on the fact that no one has ever seen him the way you have, so blown out from an orgasm that you caused.
Eddie slowly pulls his underwear and jeans back over his hips, leaving them unbuttoned as he falls back on your bed, dragging you down with him.
“You really are the gift that keeps on giving.” He jokes, rubbing your back gently, hands finding their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, barely finger tipping past the point of your ass, playing absently with the hem of your underwear.
“And this gift needs some sleep.” You tell him.
And so what if you both ended up cuddled underneath the covers in your bedroom that night, neither of you bothering to ruin this tiny bit of bliss you had created. Eddie still managed to sneak out that morning without any evidence that he had ever been there.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Eddie can’t stop touching you since the night you two shared over the weekend, always finding any reason to have a hand on you—against your back, resting against the soft dip in your waist, or just dealing his arm around your shoulder in an effort to pull you closer.
“You sure you wanna try?” He asks, holding the joint in front of your face, waiting for you to grab it. “You really don’t have to.”
You wanted to, even if it was only this once. You had to live through the hype that everyone was talking about, even if you decided to never touch it after this moment, ever again.
“For the tenth time—yes.” You laugh, snatching the joint from his fingers and pulling it toward your lips. You remember what Eddie told you. Breathe in, not too deep, hold, then out through your nose.
But, you fuck up on the second step, taking in a little too much, lungs burning from the smoke you inhaled. You lean over, feeling like you’re going to cough yourself into a miserable death on the floor of Eddie’s trailer.
“We’ll work on it.” Eddie assures you, rubbing your back comfortingly.
It was the first and last time you ever touched a joint.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Christmas comes and goes, a flurry of family visits and gift giving to all of your friends, leading up to dinner at Eddie’s trailer the evening of the day after, enjoying a small dinner with himself and his uncle. There’s some small talk, but most of the dinner is spent with you watching the two of them debate over some band you aren’t even sure you’ve ever heard of.
“Thank you.” Eddie tells you when he’s finally parked in front of your house, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb, fingers curling around your palm. You squeeze his hand in return.
“It was nice.” You admit. “My family is really loud, so it was a lot more enjoyable than you’d think.”
He chuckles softly, not wanting to let go of your hand, and not really wanting to say goodbye, either. You check the driveway, reminding yourself that your parents had left for another party a few towns over, a family friend.
“Hey, why don’t you stay for a bit?” You suggest, nodding in the direction of your house. “My parents won’t be home until midnight, I’m guessing–so maybe I can finally give you a grand tour without my parents asking you a million questions.” And ask they would, which is exactly why he hadn’t officially met them yet. Plus, he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend in any sense of the word–so it didn’t feel right either way.
Eddie doesn’t even so much as hesitate, hopping out of his car to follow you to the front door. The house is a decent size–a few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, kitchen, all the normal things you would expect from a house in the suburbs.
You both collapse on your bed the moment you enter your room, both exhausted and full from the ridiculous amount of food you consumed over dinner.
Eddie finds out that you talk in your sleep that night–which should be considered singing, but your voice is so off-key that not even he can sugarcoat it. He doesn’t say anything, though. He listens to you jam out into the quiet ambiance of your room, ceiling fan buzzing from above.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“Let’s have sex.” Eddie interjects bluntly, causing you to choke on the giant swig of water you had just attempted to swallow. It was New Years Eve and you both had planned to spend it together, even if you didn’t really have anything fun to do—spending time with Eddie was always eventful—case in point.
“Yeah,” you nod slowly, “Okay.” You never bothered to push Eddie on the topic, letting him come to that decision when he felt like it. Plus, his courage has probably been boosted from all the orgasms he’s given you, not that you were complaining—Eddie gave amazing head.
It doesn’t take much more coaxing to get you into his bed, naked from the waist up, Eddie’s mouth focused on nothing but the soft, plush valley of your breasts. He squeezed the one that wasn’t occupied by his mouth gently, tongue swirling around the bud of your nipple.It felt good, amazing, but you were way too horny to focus on the feeling of Eddie's mouth against your tits for this long.
“This is probably a terrible time to bring this up—“ He begins, but you silence him, tearing his mouth away from your tender breast and up to your mouth.
“Whatever it is, it can wait.” You laugh softly. Eddie’s looking up at you, his hair a wild mess. He looks innocent and naive, with no idea what he was getting himself into. “Do you have condoms?”
Bareback was a hard no—no matter who it was. Although, the idea of tiny little Eddie’s running around was adorable, just not enough to sacrifice everything you learned in Sex Ed. He nods eagerly, reaching over you to grab a thin box from the top of his bedside table. He shakes it, box still unopened.
“How long have you had those?” You ask, almost certain you’d never seen any in his place before.
“A few weeks.” He shrugs, pulling one of the small tin foil squares out of the box and tossing it on the floor. “Wasn’t sure when I should bring it up, you know?”
Like you wouldn’t jump his bones the second he asked, regardless if it had been two days ago or two weeks. You had waited patiently for Eddie to come to the decision on his own, and that’s all you could do. It wasn’t something you two always tiptoed around, you didn’t treat it like he had some ailment that kept him from pleasing you otherwise, it was just one step you hadn’t gotten to yet.
“Have you been planning this, Munson?” You tease, fingers dragging down his chest slowly, stopping just at the edge of his belt, your fingers curling around it.
“You can’t prove anything.” He replies, shoving his face into the crook of your neck to bite teasingly at the skin there. You yelp, squirming in the way it sends shivers down your spine.
“Beautiful, charming, and chivalrous—what did I do to deserve you?” You ask, a smile gracing your face. “Not to mention how downright dirty that mouth is.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” His voice low and teasing, coming up to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, all tongue and eager enthusiasm.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Part of you was glad that the shyness between you both was long gone, having seen each other in enough intimate ways that now—it was normal. It took a lot of the edge off for Eddie, who seemed more and more relaxed as the night drew on. You’d both forgone clothing very early on, relishing in the sight of being able to see Eddie completely bare—tattoo and toned muscle on full display.
He’s pretty insistent about going down on you despite how you insisted he didn’t have to, but it was Eddie—always wanting to give more than he took.
“Just like that.” You sigh softly, hips hovering over his mouth, your cunt making a mess all over his face. “Fuck—don’t stop.”
His tongue works quickly, rubbing over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit, his hands coming behind you to pull you further against his face. He’s practically groaning underneath you, hips bucking up into nothing—you’re ready to put him out of his misery, but the crashing feeling of your orgasm creeps up on you out of nowhere, cunt riding it out against his face, which he ravished greedily.
He’s very adamant about not having you return the favor. “There’s no way I’ll last through you doing that and being inside you without blowing my load, at least once. And truthfully, I’d like this to last a little longer than thirty seconds.”
He’s painfully honest and it’s adorable.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He sighs, brows furrowed slightly.
“You want me on top?” You ask softly, hovering over his bare thighs.
“Are you actually asking me that?” He laughs, a little dumbfounded. He’s right, stupid question.
You grab his hand, guiding it toward your sensitive pussy, allowing him to dip a single digit inside of you. He breathes in sharply, his fingers barely moving. He wasn’t even inside you and he already looked like he could fall apart.
Eddie notices the way your eyes fall shut, basking in the feeling of being filled up, even if it wasn’t by him—not really. He’s slow, precise, curling his finger ever so often until you’re rocking against his own hand, then he’s adding another. “More.” You say, he listens one obediently, squeezing another finger into you, working steadily inside of you now. The stretch felt amazing, but it was still lacking what you needed. You reach between you both, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, pulling gently.
He’s quiet, eyes closed. You pull again, rubbing your thumb over the tip, spreading the small amount of precome that had leaked out. “Fuck, I wanna be inside you.” Eddie moans, mouth hung open slightly.
You decide to finally put him out of his misery.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Eddie’s silent as he slips on the condom, his tongue sticking out past his lips from focusing too hard. “Okay, I think we’re good.” He says finally, looking up at you. He squeezes at the side of your waist, pulling you over him.
You guide him inside of you, sinking down into him slowly. It had been far too long since you had been with anyone, the stretch making you wince slightly—it didn’t help that Eddie was a lot larger than what you were typically used to.
Eddie lets out a plethora of soft, random noises—watching intently as your cunt swallows him before finally it can’t take anymore, now pressed fully against one another.
“Move. Just move.” He urges you, hands gripping your waist tightly, you being the only thing anchoring him to reality.
You do, slowly, rocking against him until he’s finally able to focus—“You okay?” You say softly, and the look he gives is something you will never be able to get out of your mind—bottom lip sucked between his teeth, eyes locked on the place where you were both joined together, before glancing up to look at you. He nods jerkily, “Wanna switch?” You ask, giving him the chance to control the pace.
“Please—I already feel like I’m gonna come quickly, but having you on top is just—“ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.
He flips you over easily, manhandling you against his sheets. Your hips rested high up onto his hips, his forearms barricading your head. He’s moving slowly, too slowly, a short thrust of his hips every couple seconds. Eddie wasn’t going to last long and you knew it.
“Hey, it’s fine.” You reassure him, “Stop thinking.”
“Okay,” He nods, moving his hips faster, “I’m not going to last long, I’m sorry.”
“Eddie,” You grab his chin, pulling attention toward your face, “stop apologizing and fuck me.”
And it’s all he needs to hear.
His mouth latches into the dip of your collarbone, sucking lightly, snapping his hips at a pace that had you moaning out in pleasure. “Feels so good, Eddie.” He bites at the skin of your shoulder and it really shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should. “Again,” you encourage him, “do that again.”
His teeth trail against the skin of your neck, up under your chin, before suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth digging in gently. “Say my name.” He breathes against your open mouth.
“Eddie.” You sigh, voice squeaking on a particularly hard snap of his hips. He moans outwardly, loud and strangled. Eddie could feel himself falling apart.
“Fuck—I can’t. I’m gonna come.” He groans out, grunting at the feeling of you squeezing down against his dick.
“It’s okay.” You shake your head, letting him bury his into your neck, his sounds muffled into the sheets.
Eddie’s loud when he comes, hands gripping your thighs so hard that you were definitely going to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind. “Fuck!” He shouts, riding himself through his orgasm before he’s collapsing on top of you. “Holy shit.”
“Well, that’s one way to ring in the New Year.” You comment, hand reaching to wipe that hair out of his face where it had been stuck with sweat. He huffs into your cheek, nose squished against your face. Eddie kisses your cheek, your nose, before capturing your mouth. He pulls out slowly, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash bin beside his bed before returning back to his original position on top of you,
“Inside of my girlfriend?” He asks, pulling back to look at you. The word slips out accidentally.
“Girlfriend?” You ask, eyebrow raised in question.
“Well, that’s what I was trying to ask you early—but someone was just too horny they couldn’t wait for me to ask. I guess I probably shouldn’t assume you would say yes but—“
“Ask me again.” You tell him, finger coming up to trace his bottom lip. He smiles widely, biting the finger in retaliation.
“Fine.” He kisses the side of your hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“Hmm.” You start, “Well-“
“Oh, no way—“ You immediately clasp your hand over his mouth.
“Yes.” You tell him, eyes boring into his own. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#my writing#idk how to make short fics i'm sorry#1kfic#5kfic
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Ring of Fire
a biker Steve au
Part 1 || I went down, and the flames went higher
18+ONLY || afab!Reader, eventual smut, alcohol consumption, allusions to dirty deeds, smoking, allusions to sex with someone other than reader (not cheating), allusions to violence/fighting, bloody knuckles, eventual breaking & entering, biker!Eddie, biker!Hopper, reader and Steve are in their early 30's. Please read warning for each part.
masterlist playlist
Summary || You haven't set eyes on Steve Harrington since the 8th grade, but you have no problem recognizing him almost 20 years later when he steps back into your life. A lot has changed in Hawkeye, the town you grew up in, but a lot has stayed the same.
word count: 5k
A/N || This is my version of Hawkins, a town called Hawkeye, and it is a desert town surrounded by tumbleweeds, agriculture, and junkyards. Even though Steve is a biker and a mechanic, I try to maintain his "essence". I plan for this to be a shorter series, like 3 or 4 parts, but those are always famous last words from this lyin', cheatin' mouth. This is a niche fic, and for the ten people who will appreciate it, I love you.
The bell on the door dinged to let you know you had a customer, but you didn’t look up right away, you were too busy trying to figure out why your till was a few bucks short for the day. Donna would not be happy. Heavy foot falls made it to the counter and then the person in question cleared his throat.
“Ten on pump 2 and a pack of reds, please,” the voice was deep and scratchy, like he was recovering from a sore throat.
You closed the cash register and glanced up for the first time.
The sight made you inhale a sharp breath and hold it. The man had on a thick motorcycle jacket zipped up halfway over a white tee, atop blue jeans that were a dark denim wash, faded over time, with a tattered hole in one knee. There were tattoos scattered over his flesh, peeking from his collar, and down his hands. Letters on his knuckles spelled something that you couldn't quite make out, and he had a luscious mop of maple syrup hair on his head that looked like it had once been gelled into place but lost the fight hours ago. He raked a big hand through it slowly, pausing halfway through the movement, and tucked his chin to pin you with an anticipatory stare.
The last person you every expected to see again was Steve Harrington.
He pushed his wayfarer sunglasses up to reveal hazel eyes that were just as sad as they were electric. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his top lip, he repeated himself. “Pump 2?”
You gave a flustered wave of your hand. “Yes, of course,” turning to pull a soft pack from the wall behind you. “Matches?”
He shook his head, and then, “just a sec,” before sauntering over to the aisle on the other side of the potato chips.
Tossing a back of Magnum condoms on the counter next to his smokes, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and said a polite, “those too, please.” The wallet was as worn as his jeans and connected by a chain to one of his belt loops.
The cash register made loud click-clack noises as you punched in the numbers and gave him the total. You weren’t expecting to see the wad of bills that fanned, but then he handed you what you needed.
“You new here?” He asked as you passed him his change, rolling a piece of bright green gum from the inside of his cheek to start chewing it again.
You stumbled over the question. “New to this store or Hawkeye?”
A smirk lifted up one side of his mouth. “Both, I guess?”
He was well aware that you were new to the corner gas n’ sip because he’d been a regular customer for years, and he definitely would have remembered you.
Definitely.
Yet, something about you felt very familiar.
“I grew up here,” your delivery was dry.
Steve tilted his head back to assess you down the bridge of his nose and frowned like he didn’t believe you. You noticed that his hands were rough and stained with evidence that he did some vocation of hard labor for a living.
You decided to humor him with a clue. “I left Hawkeye right before my freshman year. My hair was different back then, and my mom drove a big, white Buick LeSabre—-”
With an unblinking stare, he blurted your name, repeating it a few times in disbelief as the memory seized him.
There you were, the one who’d haunted his middle school dreams. The first notable crush he ever had, standing a few feet in front of him
“Shitttt,” he continued, scooping his purchases up in one hand, huffing out a breath. He searched your face, and you watched the light in his eyes intensify. “You were a year older than me, right? I remember you were always so bossy on the playground.”
You sealed your lips over a chuckle. “Well, someone had to keep you and Eddie from dismantling the playground equipment to sell to the salvage yard.”
Steve chomped down on his lip in a smile, his hip finding the edge of the counter, trying to get closer to you. “Copper,” he corrected with a one-eyed squint. “We wanted to dismantle the lampposts. Copper wiring could earn a pretty penny back then.”
“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from motor oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.
He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so. “I do alright.”
He was leaning over the counter at that point, elbow resting next to the cash register, hip jutting out behind him, holding his mouth as if he were about to say something—-
“...and then, do you know what Ned said to me? Nothing, that’s what. Three days and I barely get two words out of him. Before you go, there are two crates that need to be put away in the back—-”
56 year old Donna, your boss, approached the front desk from the back room, buzzing with conversation. She stopped short when she saw Steve there, and tucked some silver, permed hair behind her ear.
“Oh, hey Steven,” she greeted.
“Donna,” he gave a twitch of a smile, standing to full height again, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. “I was just catching up with an old friend.”
Donna had on bright pink lipstick and heart-shaped, baby blue clip-on earrings. “You know Steve?”
“You could say that,” you stared at him as you said it. “I’ve tried to put it behind me.“
Steve ran his tongue over the ridge of his teeth at that, and you could see that the left incisor was gold.
Donna crowded in behind you, trying to get to the styrofoam container with her food inside that was on a stool just below the rack of caffeine pills. It was leftover burger and fries from the diner across the street and the smell had been making your mouth water.
“How’s Eddie?” Donna asked, and it was obvious she was talking to Steve. “Haven’t seen him drop by here in a while.”
Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his nest of hair and slid them back down to his nose before giving you one final look. You backed up against the cigarette display to watch him go.
“He’s been busy,” Steve gnawed his gum, addressing your boss. “Business at the garage has picked up since the only other mechanic in town split. I work there part time when I’m not—” he swallowed back whatever he was initially about to say. “---when I’m not doing other things.”
Donna shoved the corner of her sesame seed bun burger in her mouth, chewed it and kept talking. “I saw Robin yesterday. Her and Ratchet back together?”
In the past few days of your employment, you were learning that Donna was a pillar of gossip in the community, and she wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.
Steve scratched the stubble on his chin, possibly contemplating how much he should share. “I think they have an understanding,” he chimed diplomatically, stealing another glance in your direction.
“Say hi to Wayne for me,” Donna added as Steve pushed his way out the mostly glass door. He waved over his shoulder in response, nodding that he would.
You shimmied further along behind the counter, pretending to organize the pens, so that you could follow where Steve was going, see what he was driving.
To your surprise, he pumped gas into a hulking, coal black motorcycle with ape-hanger handlebars and blue ghost flames on the tank. You were staring with your mouth slightly agape when Donna’s voice broke your concentration.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said, cheek of food again. “That boy is adorable, but he’s bad news.”
“Why?” The question was out of your mouth before you were cognitively aware of it.
She thumbed ketchup from the corner of her mouth. “You ever heard of the Coffin Kings?”
Your gaze flicked to the side, catching Steve as he kicked a leg over to straddle the bike. “I don’t think—it doesn’t ring a bell.”
You were lying; of course you’d heard of the Coffin Kings. How could you forget the horde of long-haired bikers who cruised through town when you were a kid, a few of them stopping by to pick Eddie and Steve up from school on occasion. Eddie’s uncle Wayne was one of the original members, and most of the teachers kept their manners around the boys for that reason alone. Sure, Steve got detention for carving his initials into one of the school desks, but little did you know that it was only because he knew you would be in there too.
Steve revved the bike to life until it was growling, idling in place with his back to you while he strapped his bare bones helmet on.
“How do you know him?” Donna asked, not afraid to be pushy.
“Well, I—” you thought about the specifics of that question. “I don’t know him at all anymore, really. We were just kids. It’s been a long time.”
“You want my advice?” Donna wiped her mouth with a tissue from a nearby Kleenex box.
You didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t stop her from giving it to you.
“If you’re looking for a bad boy type, his friend Eddie is a much better catch. Runs his own business, works hard, stays out of trouble. Steve? Well, let’s say Stevie is just—-”
You turned to her as Steve hit the main road and shot into the distance. “He’s what?”
You waited while she rolled her lips together, wetting them thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the ceiling.
“He’s a nice kid, but he’s trouble,” she sighed. “He’s not the type you’d want to get serious with, if you know what I mean.”
Coincidentally, you did know what that meant. You were a bit of a connoisseur when it came to trouble; not only could you sniff it out, but it flocked to you like seagulls on a parking lot french fry.
But what Donna didn’t know was that you were no angel.
You scoffed at her suggestion. “I’m not looking for a relationship any time soon. I plan to stay single for a while.”
Donna dumped the rest of her dinner in the trash under the cash register. “In that case, you and Steve have more in common than I thought.”
—-----
Steve had the rest of the evening off, he should’ve gone straight home to have a beer in his boxers in front of the TV and try to pass out early. He’d been slinging wrenches at Munson’s Garage that day, a double shift to help Eddie out, and his hand was throbbing so hard he had to take it off the throttle and shake it out.
But also, who was he kidding? He hadn’t slept more than a few hours that whole week. He needed a distraction, he needed people, he needed to forget his gut-wrenching loneliness for a while.
He revved the throttle, shooting himself faster along the empty highway, passing nothing but flat alfalfa fields and the odd farmhouse every mile or so. The low, desert hills rolled like sleeping giants on the horizon as dusk descended.
The Blue Light Tavern was housed in a brick building built in the 40’s, located between the truck stop and the Rosebud Motel, about a mile or so from the center of town. The only way anyone passing by would even know it was a tavern was due to the neon Pabst and Jameson signs in the two tiny front windows. There were already two motorcycles out front when Steve pulled up, and he found a spot at the end.
The bartender that night was Angie, and she greeted him by name when he strolled in. He asked for a beer, picked some songs on the jukebox, and started a game of pool with a fellow MC member, cigarettes bobbing from their lips as they played.
That's when you walked in.
He took a drink from his pint glass, pausing it there, watching you scan the room before making your way quietly to one of the stools at the far end of the bar, on the corner, closest to the door, as if you might have to make a run for it. You were in the same clothes you’d had on at the gas n’ sip, but now you wore a zip-up black hoodie, hugging it around your ribs as if you were cold.
The guy Steve was playing pool with was known as Big Jim around Hawkeye. Head of hair slicked back with generous sideburns down to his jaw, and a white scar making a thin indentation from the corner of his mouth to his ear. He wore a long sleeve red and black flannel under his Coffin Kings kutte with the name Hopper patched on one side.
Hopper said something to Steve and he appeared to ignore him, but finally blinked a few times. “What did you say?”
Hopper held his pool cue across his lap as he sat on one of the tall swivel chairs against the wall, long legs braced wide. “It’s your move, Romeo,” he drawled, plucking his smoke from the ashtray to take a drag. .
Steve suddenly got very confused, frowning when he turned to his friend. How could Hop know he was interested in you?
Hop gestured to the green felt under the Budweiser chandelier with his chin, exhaling, framing his lips to make an “O” with the smoke. “Your turn, pipsqueak.”
“Right,” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall.
—--------
You waited outside, staring up at the Pabst neon that was missing the “b”, trying to work up the nerve to go in. The Blue Light Tavern had been around so long, you remembered it from the rare occasions when your dad met up with his buddies, back when it was called The Hideaway. Before the accident, back when you were a kid and considered Hawkeye your home.
You were officially a resident once more, but you weren’t sure if you’d feel at home anywhere ever. You weren’t sure if you’d ever feel safe again. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.
When you finally opened the door, smoke billowed out, and the low-lit, grimey ambiance felt like a familiar friend. You weren’t in the mood to drink, necessarily, you just didn’t want to sit at your apartment alone. There weren’t many public places open in Hawkeye after 9, so you’d just been walking around aimlessly for the past hour. Your tiny rental above the Gas n’ Sip was empty but for a mattress, two kitchen chairs, and five or six boxes you still needed to unpack. It all felt too dismal and overwhelming to tackle after your first full day at your new job.
“What’ll it be darlin’?” The brunette bartender asked, using a white rag to wipe down the bar in front of you. There was ice melting in a tumbler, a few used toothpicks, and a sticky ring on the woodgrain. She scooped it all out of the way and then stared at you with a hand on her ample hips.
You were flustered and said the first thing that came to mind. “Can you make a gin and tonic?”
“I think I can handle that,” she winked, moving out of the way to grab a glass. You could hear the billiard balls clacking together over the music of Bringin' on the Heartache by Def Leppard , but there was a jukebox and a length of partition in the way, so you couldn’t see who was at the table. Including you, there were only a handful of customers that night; one surly man with a long gray beard at the bar, a couple at a table looking up at the mounted Zenith TV on the wall playing a muted episode of the Twilight Zone, and another two were throwing darts at a well worn target.
Angie placed a white cocktail napkin before setting your drink down. “Someone bought you this,” she had tiny veins of red around the cracks of her bare lips, as if she’d been wearing lipstick earlier.
“Someone?” Disbelief came first, and then it made you paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to get hit on by—-
“It was him,” Angie gestured down the end of the bar to where Steve caught your eye and bucked his chin at you.
The universe really did have a sense of humor.
—-----
A few minutes later, once he finished his game and let Hopper win just to move things along, he sauntered over to put his booted foot up on the bottom rung of the stool next to you. His white tee had a V-neck, exposing a tuft of chest hair. “Are you following me?”
You swished your drink with a red stir stick, and then sucked it clean. “I won’t let this freebie go to my head, Harrington. I bet you buy drinks for all the new women in town.”
He gripped a fresh cigarette between pursed lips and lit the end, looking up at you from under his furrowed, James Dean brow. “Yeah, but you’re not new.”
“Shhh it’s a secret,” you snipped two fingers in the air like a pair of scissors and he grinned at that, offering his pack of reds for you to take one. One of his ears was pierced, and a small silver hoop curved there.
“Since when do you smoke?”
“I don’t,” you answered flatly, leaning over so that he could light the end for you with his plastic blue Bic, inhaling so that your cheeks hollowed.
“You want to read my palm again?”
“Again?” You exhaled smoke to the side.
Steve straddled the stool and got comfortable with his elbows on the bar. “You read my palm once when we were kids,” he straightened his arm, locking his elbow, so that his palm was open in front of you. “I think you said my love life would be troubled, but I’d live a long life. And then you made some crack about how I’d let the right one get away.”
You huffed a laugh and chomped onto your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big, staring at his strong fingers as they wiggled in front of you, veins popping strong in his forearm.
“I can’t believe you remember that.” Tilting your head to the side, you took another sip of your drink, cringing a little at the strength of the alcohol; it was a glass of gin with a splash of tonic. But maybe Angie’s heavy hand was a blessing that night.
The gold in his tooth flashed like lightning in a storm. “I remember everything,” his voice was soft and deep, and you had to look away before he turned you into a brainless, lovesick zombie from his vampiric-strength powers of persuasion.
Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit under the weight of his stare. “My palmistry days are behind me. I’m out of practice.”
He slid his hand back, but slowly, hoping you might want to touch it or grab it or—-
“But I am curious—”
Fingers flexed flat again as an invitation.
“---what does it say on your knuckles?”
“Oh these?” He made two fists and twisted them to read it himself as if he wasn’t sure, and then put both palms flat and slid them back in your direction, fingers splayed.
Murmuring aloud as you spelled it out, you realized that the right knuckles spelled LOVE and the left ones said PAIN in thick, capital lettering.
“My turn,” he pulled back his shoulders, taking another drag, squinting, before resting his cigarette butt back in the ashtray.
“Your turn for what?”
“Questions. What is that key around your neck for?”
You slapped a hand over the metal piece dangling from a chain, not realizing it had escaped the confines of your shirt collar, fingering it thoughtfully as you thought about what type of story you should make up.
You could tell him the truth, but you weren’t sure you were emotionally equipped to answer any further questions. You made a fist around the key and started massaging it with your thumb, when another hulking biker with a thick mustache cupped a meaty hand onto Steve’s shoulder.
“Bones just paged, we gotta meet them at the junkyard on ,” the big man shifted his kind, blue eyes to you, blinking with a nod of his head to acknowledge your presence, and offer his silent apologies all at once.
Steve stood without argument, clearly duty bound, but his attention remained on you. He motioned Hopper ahead, and then he idled there, internally stumbling over his words.
“Any chance you’ll be here again tomorrow night?” He flicked the spark on his lighter a few times as he spoke out of nervous habit.
You tucked the metal key into your shirt. “I work the late shift at the gas station tomorrow.”
His mood seemed to lift slightly at knowing where you would be.
“Taz,” Hopper hummed from the door where he braced it open with his broad back, offering a blast of fresh air to the nicotine saturated walls. Taz was Steve’s nickname in the club, but that was just one more thing you had yet to learn about him. He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, gave your bicep a tender squeeze as he went by, and leaned down to whisper, “it’s good to see you,” at the shell of your ear, giving you goosebumps.
Once he was gone, the tavern suddenly felt emptier, the sound of George Thorogood singing about drinking alone pounding much louder as you stared down at the glass in your hand.
You finished your drink and then you made the trek back home, hugging yourself against the crisp night breeze, wondering how you would occupy your time for the next couple hours before you found sleep.
—------
The roar of their two engines cut through the dry June night like a knife, affording no illumination but their headlights and the moon. Steve had replaced his leather jacket with his own MC leather that said TAZ on the front from one of his saddlebags, bare flesh of his arms exposed to show the scattering of tattoos there as he gripped the handlebars. Both riders wore clear safety glasses to protect their eyes from the wind and the kamikazee bugs.
Snipes Junkyard loomed menacingly in the expanse of desert, shrouded in cobalt night. Heaps of twisted metal wreckage, smashed cars all piled on top of each other, and a high fence made of corrugated metal with curls of razor wire along the top ridge.
There was a group of bikes parked out front when they arrived and two of the Coffin Kings Prospects, Riot and Krebs, guarded the gate to the place.
Both new arrivals put their helmets on the end of their handlebars and tucked their safety glasses into their front pocket as they approached.
“What are we walking into?” Hopper asked, and Riot was already shaking his head in answer.
“The underground tunnels were breached,” he said, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind his ear. “Crater isn’t happy.”
Crater was a Hawkeye native who got his nickname because of the chicken pock scars that covered his cheeks and jaw. He was also President of one of the other MC’s in town called the Skull Crushers.
When tensions were high among the gangs, there was always a good chance someone would pull a gun or start punching, so Steve and Hopper shared a weary look, bracing themselves before entering.
—------
Just as you were about to step up onto your block, you caught sight of someone coming out of the mini mart that you lived above. A side door led up a flight of narrow stairs, and the top room was all yours; it was the size of a tin can, but it was shelter and you were grateful.
Through the soft glow of the front window, you saw Donna’s husband Ned behind the counter with his half-moon reading spectacles on and a novel open in front of him. Which reminded you to make sure you brought some material to entertain you on your shift the next night.
Somewhere not too far off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped their excited whines.
The person who’d just come out paused on the sidewalk to light a smoke, and you sank around the corner of the building to watch the guy in the jeans, leather, and thick boots stroll over to put some gas in the tank of his Harley. Bulkier than the one Steve rode, this one was glossy obsidian with chrome pipes and a sissy bar in back, as if he usually had a rider with him. His hair was unruly, long and dark, and once you caught a glimpse of his profile from the dim beam above the pumps, you knew right away that it was Eddie Munson.
You thought about getting his attention to say hello, but then realized that your social battery was tapped for the day. The cigarette dangled from his mouth when he took off, and you waited until he was down the street before darting to the stairs of your apartment.
—-----
A few hours later, Steve’s left hand with the PAIN held a black payphone receiver to his ear while the other hand rolled the numbers on the rotary dial. His knuckles were freshly spit and bleeding, since one of the Skull Crushers had come at him during a misunderstanding at the meet earlier, and he was forced to lay the guy out. He felt wired, like rest had somehow become his enemy, something he ran from as it tracked him ruthlessly.
A woman who went by the name Lorelei picked up on the second ring.
“It’s me,” he coughed and tasted that familiar copper tang. “It’s Steve. Are you busy?”
It was almost 4 in the morning, but Steve had been a regular customer for a few months and, also, she didn’t mind his company. He wasn’t like her other customers; he didn’t want the typical things from her.
His hand haphazardly bandaged with a red handkerchief; he hugged it to his chest when he knocked at the door of room 8 at the Rosebud Motel. When it opened, Lorelei stood there with a silk, periwinkle kimono wrapped snug around her curves, and motioned him in. There were two lamps on in the room, both of their shades were draped with floral scarves, and a candle burned on the nightstand, smelling of essential oils, bergamot and lavender. She didn’t live at the Rosebud, but she did stay a few nights in a row there when she was working.
Steve's relationship history thus far had been a blur of endless disconnect, a series of hit and runs that left his heart empty and his eyes vacant. It was easy for a guy in a motorcycle club to get laid; their parties were always crawling with eager pussy. But after a certain age, that wasn’t what he craved anymore. He often worried that the parental dynamic he’d witnessed growing up, or lack thereof, had fucked him up to the point that he would never be able to have a normal relationship with a girl he liked.
A while ago he’d given up on love, figured that he was broken. But he still had urges, and making them transactional helped him to disengage further.
“What are you in the mood for?” Lorelei hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer, searching his face. “Same as last time, hmm?”
Steve lowered his head, internal exhaustion making him dizzy. He held her arm, thumbing the delicate material of her robe. “Not tonight,” he swallowed thickly. “Just the stuff that…comes after.”
Nodding that she understood, she cupped his chin so he would look at her. “Will three hours be enough?” One look at him told her what he needed was 24 at the least, but three was all she had to give.
Over the years, Steve had come to realize that his insomnia was somehow cured when he could sleep next to someone. To roll over and have them there, to hold them. Alone, his mind raced, and nightmares plagued the inside of his eyelids. With Lorelei, they mostly slept side by side, and the weight and familiarity of her was somehow enough to calm his nervous system down to a reasonable level.
“Come,” she sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to unlace his boots. He wrestled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, ready to pluck some bills out, but she put her hand up to stop him.
“After, okay? I trust you,” she whispered, tugging off the first boot by the heel, rubbing the ball of his foot a little before moving to the next shoe.
Steve’s head bobbed on his neck, and then he rolled it back to center, eyes heavy.
He always refused to undress fully, and Lorelei suspected it had something to do with how vulnerable it made him feel, but she never asked questions. He scooted up to find the pillow with his head, and by the time she crawled in next to him and put her hand on his thigh, he was out.
-------
Thank you to my darling readers who love biker Steve!
#Steve Harrington#Steve Harrington series#Steve Harrington fic#Stranger Things fic#biker!steve#biker!steve harrington#Ring of Fire
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Take It Out On Me Part 2 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
A/N: I may or may not have lived with these boys this weekend <3. Seriously y'all I was in a mood and needed this lol Hell I'm still in said mood.
Warnings: Dominate Steve and Eddie with a sub reader. Everything within this story IS consensual! I would never write a version of these boys where it wasn't. There is some degrading if you squint. Not as much as that first chapter. Choking and overstimulation for sure. Dirty talk all the way because I need these boys to whisper dirty dirty things to me. Smut, angst, and...fluff. Yes...I said fluff. Reader mentions being sore. I think that's it.
Word Count: 3497
The following morning, you sit in your car starring down at the school in front of you. They were both here already. You know because you passed their empty vehicles as you searched for a parking space. Riddled with anxiety, you finally mustered the strength to head in and begin your day.
As you headed for your locker, you found yourself involuntary looking for them and you had no idea why. It’s not like either of them were going to address you or what you three had done the previous night with other people around.
Would they even bring it up at all even after school? As you fell asleep last night, you could still smell them on you especially Steve. Hell, you could still feel them inside of you even when you woke up, your sore throat and cunt a constant reminder.
“Hey you.”
“Jesus, Maze! You startled me.”
Your friend grinned as she leaned against the wall beside you. “I’m not surprised. I’m not sure where you’ve been space cadet but you’ve been staring at your locker for almost a whole minute without moving. I thought maybe you forgot how they work. See, you have to turn this thing here—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You giggle as you swat her hand away, spinning in your combination before opening the little door. A small yelp escapes your lips as something soft falls to your chest.
As you lift it up to inspect it, you realize it was the blouse you had been wearing yesterday. The one that Eddie had tore open but you could swear he took it with him when you guys left.
On the collar you noticed a piece of notebook paper safety pinned to the fabric with a note scrawled across it in black marker.
“The buttons may not be 100% even but it will button! -E.M.”
Your grin grew as you opened the shirt further to find that the buttons had been sewn back on. He didn’t have to do that.
“And there she goes again. Y/N!” Masie snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Honey, it’s a shirt. Either put it on or put it back. We have to get to class!”
You both made it a little before the bell, completely enthralled in your conversation to even realize Steve wasn’t in his usual seat but behind yours.
“Um, are you lost Steve Harrington?”
“No Masie Collins. I’m right where I want to be.”
She huffs as she turns her back to him, addressing you. “Do you want me to sit there today?”
Your eyes scan him over, taking note of his calm demeanor. “No. I’m okay.”
You friend slides in the desk in front of you right as the teacher walks in and announces the class will be watching a movie today. As the lights fall and the film begins, you hear the man rustling around behind you.
Suddenly, a folded piece of paper finds its way to your desk. Glancing at the teacher to make sure he’s not looking; you quickly open it.
“Are you okay?”
A small smile flickers across your lips as you respond and pass the note back to him.
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“We wanted to call and check on you but we don’t have your number.”
“That’s ok. You guys don’t need to do that.”
You heard Steve aggressively sigh through his nose before replying.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to give me your number…”
“How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t ask?”
You hold the note in your hand, contemplating your words. You know it will upset him but why do you even care. Fuck Steve Harrington. You still thought he was an asshole… right? After passing it to him, you wait for his response. It feels like an eternity before the folded piece of paper finds its way back to you.
“I don’t ask, honey. I take.”
“Sounds about right. Still a fucking asshole. Thank you for reminding me. And I’m NOT your honey!”
You heard him snicker behind you.
“What would you rather I call you? Whore? Slut? Think carefully because whatever you choose is what I’m calling you when my dick is inside you again.”
You clung to the paper as you exhaled, stifling the moan that wanted to break free. As you closed your eyes to steady your breathing, you felt Steve’s index finger trace along your spine to the back of your neck. Quickly looking around to make sure no one was watching, you leaned back in your chair, keening into his touch.
“I’m sorry. I just I don’t feel comfortable giving you my number. What if one of your friends gets it? I’m afraid.”
“Ok. I understand. Instead of your number can you give me something else instead? Something else I need to hear from you.”
“Yes?”
“Did you like having me fuck you even though you fucking hate my guts? I told Eddie after you left that he has to try your pussy for himself. I’m seriously getting hard thinking about how tight you were around me.”
The bell chimed signaling the end of the period before you could answer and as you turned to face him, he had already got up and left the classroom.
############
You managed to avoid them the rest of the day, choosing to skip lunch and walking into your last class with Steve a little later than normal. Your coach called you into her office near the end of the day advising you they were changing practice today and said that Mr. Higgins would notify the detention moderator.
Breathing a sigh of relief at being able to avoid the boys until tomorrow, you changed into your practice uniform and put all your focus into the court in front of you. Your satisfaction was short lived however as the basketball your teammate had passed whizzed by you, rolling into two pairs of sneakers.
“Hey there, princess.” Eddie grinned as he knelt down and picked up the ball, twirling it in his hands in front of you.
“Enough, Mr. Munson.” The teacher yanked the ball from his grasp and handed it to you. “Miss Y/L/N.”
“Thank you.” Your eyes meet theirs for a brief moment before you ran back to your team.
The teacher walked the boys up the bleachers to where some of the other pep squad members were working on banners and inventory. You felt their eyes on your through practice, doing everything you could to just focus on the task in front of you. Occasionally, your eyes would wonder and you would see Eddie making one of the other girl’s giggle or Steve’s hands reach out and touch one theirs as they batted their eyelashes at him.
Why does that make me angry? Am I jealous? No, I’m not! How can I be? Steve was right. I fucking hate him and Eddie. I don’t even fucking know Eddie! They can touch and flirt with whoever the fuck they want! They can—
The basketball you threw towards the risers hit the wall just barely above the boy’s heads with an aggressively loud bang.
“Oh shit! Are you guys, ok?”, your coach asked as she ran towards the stands. “Part of the hazard of doing stuff like this during practice.”
When Eddie and Steve turned their heads to look at you, they were met with your angry stare. The metalhead reached for the ball and held it out to you as you held up your hands to catch it.
“Oh no, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt by throwing it.”
“I’m pretty tough. I can handle anything you throw my way.”
His smile faded as he glared at you, his tone full of venom as he spoke. “Come get the ball.”
As quick as you could, you bounced up the steps and slid into their aisle. When you leaned down to take it from him, Steve reached out to grab your wrist, pulling you closer to them.
“That was really fucking stupid.”
“Mr. Harrington! You had all day to talk to Y/N. Y/N, get back down there and Steve focus on what you’re supposed to be doing.” You tried to do as you were told but the man’s gripped tightened, holding you in place.
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Say please.”
“Jesus, am I talking to myself here?! Harrington! Munson! You have like twenty minutes left. Is it too much to ask that you guys behave?”
You tried pulling your wrist again but he maintained his grasp even as your coach began calling your name. Panic started to set in as your eyes fleeted around the gym.
“Please let me go.” Steve released you and Eddie handed you the basketball. “Fuck you both.”
################
After practice you jumped in the shower, losing track of time as you let the hot water calm you down. You shouldn’t be jealous but you were. You shouldn’t want them but you did. What was this little dynamic anyway? Were you just fucking them or was there more? How did they even feel about you? There were so many unanswered questions and you were afraid to ask any of them.
The sound of something hitting the tile loudly next you, jolted your eyes open as Eddie and Steve stood before you, blocking your only exit out of the shower stall.
“It’s not nice when someone throws something at you, is it?”
Steve threw the basketball again forcefully behind you making you shout as you moved out of the way.
“You’re…you’re not allowed…in here.” They chuckled as you stammered over your words.
“Oh no, Steve. She’s right. We don’t want to get in trouble with the coach. No, wait a minute. We saw her leave a little while ago.”
“Mr. C could still be here.”
“I don’t think so, Harrington. He left when he thought we did. Hm.” Eddie places his finger on his chin as he pretends to think. “The last member of you team left fifteen minutes ago. I hate to say it but I think it’s just us.”
You backed into the corner as you tried cover your sensitive areas with your hands.
“Don’t to that, sweetheart. This is the first time I believe we’re really getting a good look at you here. Put your arms down.” Eddie closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Hard way again. Go get her, Steve.”
“No! No.” You drop your arms to your side as the boy stepped forward.
Their eyes drank you in from head to toe as you nervously fidgeted against the wall. “Hm. I don’t get it, Harrington. She’s obviously extremely beautiful. I’ve never seen it but according to you she is capable of being sassy and raising her voice above a whisper. It seems by her display during her practice she is confident and able to somewhat express what she’s feeling. Maybe not correctly but still… why is she so fucking…timid?”
“Probably because we scare her.”
“Yeah, obviously not enough though since someone got jealous.”
As they laughed at you, something slowing cracked open inside of you as you stood up taller and glared at them.
“I was NOT jealous. I have no reason to be.”
“Oh? So, you just threw something at us for fun? That’s not nice.” Steve was mocking you; they both were and it was making you even more riled up.
“Fuck you! I don’t care who you flirt with or talk to. I threw that basketball at you because you both are so fucking aggravating! Ugh!”
Eddie’s hand shout out, gripping your hair as he pulled you out of the stall and guided you towards the locker area. “There she is! Now that’s the kind of girl I like to play with.”
As soon as your back connected with the cold metal of the lockers, his lips were on yours. You mewled at the taste of him, making him smirk into your kisses. As his mouth travelled down your skin, stopping to flick his tongue along your nipples, Steve came to your side.
“You never answered my question.”
Eddie lifted your leg, balancing it on the bench behind him before pressing his face fully into your sex. You moaned as his tongue went work, rapidly moving between your folds as he switched between tasting your hole and sucking on your swollen nub.
“Oh my god.”
Steve’s fingers reached out delicately turning you to look at him. “Did you like me fucking you last night?” When you nodded, his palm reached out to grip you throat. “Say it, honey.”
“Y-yes, Steve. I liked you fucking me.”
“Shit. I forgot you don’t want to be called honey. Did you ever think of a name you would prefer?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You clung to Eddie’s hair as you came, your legs trembling. Steve smirked as you panickily looked at him when the metalhead didn’t stop his tongues assault on your clit.
“Oh, he can stay down there for hours and with how good you taste… I mean, I’m just assuming. I didn’t get to have you as a meal myself yesterday but…”, his breath warmed your ear as he leaned closer. “…I could still smell your juices after I got home. So fucking good.”
Your eyes rolled back at his words as his lips kissed your cheek. The man felt you pulling below his waist, glancing down to see you tugging at his belt. Steve’s smile grew as he helped you, unbuckling his pants and kicking them to the side before yanking off his shirt. You licked your palm, reaching down to stroke his cock.
A combination of a laugh and a moan left his lips as he leaned his head against yours. “There was…more to that question I asked, you know.”
You other hand tugged hard on Eddie’s hair as the coil snapped again. He quickly rose to his feet, shoving two of his fingers into his mouth before roughly inserting them inside your pussy.
“What question did you ask, Stevie?”
“I asked if she liked having me fuck her even though she fucking hates me.”
“I—mmm—I don’t, fuck…” His digits rapidly moving between your legs was making it hard for you to collect your thoughts.
“Oh. I’d like to hear the answer to that to. Answer him, princess.” Eddie’s head tipped back as he looked down at you with annoyed eyes. “Answer him.”
“I—I can’t…” Tears began to flow as he thrust his fingers faster, the sound of your slick filling the huge locker room.
“Yes, you can, baby. Come on.”
“I…I—shit—I don’t fucking hate you!” You came hard as your legs buckled and your arms shot out to hold the metalhead’s shoulders, trying to keep yourself from falling over. “I don’t. Please…one…one minute.”
They gave you more than enough time to catch your breath. As soon as your body stopped shaking, you felt more confident in your ability to stand as you straightened yourself and leaned back to look in their eyes.
“I don’t know you. I just know that you hang around with people I hate.”
Steve nodded as he turned your head to face Eddie who lifted your leg again, balancing it behind him. While he removed his pants, you lifted off his shirt, tracing your fingers along tattoos you didn’t know he had.
The man dragged his cock through your soaking folds, gathering the wetness before breaching your entrance. “Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington. You were right. She’s so fucking tight.” You whimper as he thrust himself into at a steady pace. Eddie wasn’t quite bigger than Steve but he was thicker, stretching you open with every stroke.
You whined as your arms clung to his neck, his forehead leaning on yours as he panted against your lips. “You feel so good. Oh my god. Taking me so fucking well. Say my name, sweetheart.”
“Eddie…”, you mewled.
“Louder.”, he grunted in frustration. You moaned it again but it still wasn’t enough. Eddie reaches between your both massaging your clit with his fingers as he pumped in you at a much more rapid pace. “Louder, Y/N! Come on! Don’t… don’t whimper my name under that meek voice bullshit! You say my name like you mean it!”
You screamed his name repeatedly as you came around his cock, positive that if anyone was walking by outside they would call the cops.
“Fuck me, baby. Good girl. Such a good fucking girl. Can I cum inside you?” When you nod, his head falls against the locker beside yours as he rolls his hips roughly against your own. “Tell me, baby. Beg me to.”
“P-please, Eddie. I need you cum inside me. Please. I need to feel you.”
His mouth opened in a silent O as his hips sputter and he thrusts his seed into your cunt. Eddie licked his bottom lip as he pulled out and took a step back. Your arm was abruptly yanked to the side and Steve spun you around in front of him, slamming you back into the lockers.
He didn’t take the time to ask if you were ok or even offer to be gentle after taking Eddie. His dick easily slid into your hole and you both moaned at the feeling. The pace he set was almost animalistic as his arms wrapped around your stomach to hold you to him. You lifted your arm to tangle your fingers in his hair, turning his head so your lips could find his own.
“Steve, please. I want you to cum inside me to.”
“After—mmm—after you cum…again.”
“I-I-I can’t. I’m…it’s too much.”
“That’s so weird. Didn’t sound like to me he was asking.” You glanced over at Eddie who was leaning beside you two watching.
One of Steve’s arms dropped as his fingers found their way to your overstimulated bundle of nerves. The tears began to fall again and the only words you could manage to find was “Please, Steve” as you repeated it till the coil broke.
“Yes, honey. Fuck.” His body pushed you flat against the barrier in front of you as he chased his high, grunting into your shoulder as you felt rope after rope of his release shoot inside of you.
You continued to cry as his hands gripped your hips so he could slowly pull out of your now extremely sore pussy. Eddie pushed off the lockers and Steve did the same as he reached for your hand to follow. His head swiveled around when you didn’t move.
“Can you walk? I can carry you if you can’t.” When you nodded your head, he lightly tugged your arm. “Well, come on then.”
You were hesitant as you trailed behind before you realized they were taking you back towards the showers. The metalhead already had it running as steam filled the area.
“Did you guys ever see Carrie? That’s what these stalls remind me of.”
Steve guides you under the water, pushing your hair to one side as you both watch Eddie descend to his knees and begin cleaning your body.
“Isn’t that the one with the prom?”, the boy asks.
“Yes, Harrington. More does happen but at least you actually understand my reference for once.”
“I’ve never seen the movie.” They both glance up at you when you speak. “I read the book though.”
A small smile appears on Steve’s face. “There’s a book?”
“Geez, Steven. It wouldn’t kill you to visit a library every now and then.” Eddie rises to his feet, continuing his task. “Do you like Stephen King?”
“I do. Have you read Christine? They’re making into a movie.”
He grins down at you as he reaches behind you to turn off the shower. Steve dries you off before wrapping you in a towel. They gather their clothes from the floor as you open your locker and get dressed as well.
“I’m sorry…for what I did during practice.” Your eyes remained on the floor as you brushed your hair. When you finally managed to look up, you find them looking at each other.
“Are you hungry?”
“Huh?”
“We were going to go grab some food in town. Are you hungry? Do you want to come?”, Steve asks again.
“I…we…should we?” The man’s head tilts to the side as Eddie chuckles. “I mean…what are…what is this?” You gesture between the three of you.
“This is hunger, princess. Steve and I are starving. If you don’t want to come that’s fine. It’s completely up to you.”
“Oh, um—”
“We’d like to get to know you better. Frankly, you’re a constant surprise. You…you fascinate me.”
“Me to.”, Eddie chimed in.
Your eyes shifted between theirs, seeing that softness that had illuminated through yesterday when they walked you to your car. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see where this went.
“Where were you guys thinking of going to eat?”
##############
@sidthedollface2 @luna-munson83 @devilinthepalemoonlite @corrodedcorpses @manda-panda-monium
#steddie x reader#steddie fluff#steddie smut#steddie fanfiction#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie fanfic#eddie stranger things#steve fanfic#steve smut#steve stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#stranger things#fan fiction#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#steve fluff#dom!steve harrington#dom!eddie#sub reader#steddie x plussizereader#steve x plus size reader#eddie x plus size reader#plus size reader
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Star Child Part 2
Everyone loved the first part so much I thought I’d throw up the second one today as a treat.
This part is a little heavy, Steve talks about what happened to the Kings and it’s not pretty, so a warning for content.
Part 1
*
Eddie managed to shower and change and get down to the bar with barely a minute to spare. His hair is a little damp but there was no getting around that not if he wanted to be on time.
He had changed into more comfortable jeans, and put on a long-sleeved mesh crop top, and a denim vest over that. He pulled on a pair of combat boots to finish off the look.
He fussed with his hair as he scanned the crowd. And then he spotted him. Steve Harrington. Dressed in tight leather pants and a plain white t-shirt and matching sneaks.
Eddie’s brain nearly blue screened again. Fuck. It looked good on him.
He muscled his way through the crowd to stand in front of Steve.
“Hey!” Steve greeted warmly. “You made it!”
He turned and ordered them a couple of bottles of beer.
Eddie shrugged. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Steve matched his shrug with one of his own. “After how hard you guys rocked tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to do anything but crash. Especially since you guys did practically two sets tonight.”
He handed Eddie a bottle and took the other one for himself.
Eddie smiled. “Nah, we’re good. We often party afterwards.”
“To each their own, man,” Steve shaking his head and then took a sip of his beer.
Eddie laughed. “I think it would ruin people’s image of you if you went out partying after shows. Your main appeal is your hometown, boy next door, have your daughter home by nine kind of guy.”
Steve half shrugged. “Some days it chafes.”
“Is that why you chose to do a metal version of an alt rock song featuring the daughter of the king of pop?” Eddie asked with a wink.
Steve laughed. “Something like that.”
Eddie bit his lip for a moment. “Have you thought about branching out? Becoming more like Timberlake than Styles?”
“Moving outside the genre that catapulted me to stardom you mean?” Steve asked.
“Why not? People have been successful at it before,” Eddie reminded him. “Because, dude, if pop music chafes, stop doing it.”
“Maybe after this last album,” Steve said. “I’m under contract for one more and then maybe I’ll color outside the lines.”
Eddie nodded. Contracts were a bitch. “So you talk with the Kings anymore?” he asked to fill the silence that had stretched between them after that conversation stopper.
Steve barked out a bitter laugh. “Billy died from an overdose about a year after we broke up. Tommy is in jail for beating his wife, Carol right before the Grammy’s last year. And Jonathan is dating my ex, and my agent tells me that there are wedding bells on the horizon. So no. I don’t speak to them anymore.”
“Holy shit!” Eddie said. “What the hell happened?”
“We were underage when we became famous,” Steve murmured. “So our parents took control of everything the first couple of years and pushed us too hard. Jonathan was the only one to survive because his mom made sure his dad couldn’t touch shit and shielded him from the worst the business had to offer.”
“You including yourself in the parents are shit pile?” Eddie asked.
“My parents were the worst because they looked respectable,” Steve said, “But both of them are among the worst people to walk this planet.”
“There’s a story there,” Eddie said, bumping into Steve shoulder, “come on. Spill.”
Steve looked around him and then leaned in so only Eddie could hear. “They tried to have me committed when I didn’t want to do what they wanted.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Seriously, the fuck?”
Steve nodded. “Nearly succeeded, too. If it wasn’t for my best friend intervening and becoming my manager. Robin saved my life.” He sighed heavily and looked down at his beer.
“You know what you need right now?” Eddie asked with a big grin.
“What’s that?” Steve cocked his head to the side.
“To let loose on the dance floor!”
Eddie grabbed his hand and led him out to the middle of floor and began dancing.
Steve laughed and then joined in. Letting his worries slide away with the beat of the music.
Eddie kept going back to the bar for liquid courage to ask this beautiful boy if he would come back to his hotel room with him. But after the fourth shot and third beer, Eddie was too tipsy for anything even to close to sex, much less standing upright.
As Steve found out as he tried to get the front man back to his hotel room. Eddie was all over Steve, giggling and shoving his hair in his mouth.
Steve shook his head, a fond smile on his face. He managed to get them to his room without either of them falling down.
“You’re very pretty,” Eddie giggled.
Steve laughed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You, on the other hand, is absolutely gorgeous.”
Eddie blushed deeply.
“Where is your hotel key, dude?” Steve asked.
“Pocket!” Eddie pressed his lips together and batted his eyelashes at him.
“Which one?” Steve asked.
Eddie just leaned forward for a kiss and Steve dodged, patting down the pockets in the vest with no luck, finding only the man’s car keys.
He reached around to feel up Eddie’s back pockets, looking for the wallet and trying very hard not to linger.
Eddie only made the temptation that much harder when he canted his hips into Steve’s, seeking friction.
Steve had to close his eyes and take deep breath. His hands slid to the front of Eddie’s pants and found the wallet in the right pocket, his cell phone in his left.
“Why don’t you have your wallet in your back pocket like a normal person?” Steve asked, chuckling.
“Thiefy heads trying to steal it, so usually on a chain, but going to unknown bar went for front pocket instead.”
Steve smiled at him. “Duly noted.” He opened the wallet, fishing out the key card and opened the door. He half carried the very drunk Eddie to the bed and flopped him face first into the covers.
Steve put his hands on his hips and looked around at the suite. It had it’s own sitting room and a door that led to a large bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi style bathtub. “Damn, Robin is slacking, if this the is kind of room your manager can get for you.”
Eddie rolled over on his back and looked up at Steve with a grin. “And I don’t hafta share!”
“You are a menace, Munson,” Steve murmured. He began unlacing the boots and pulled them off. “Come on, get under the covers, you dork.”
Eddie leaned up and crooked his finger at Steve. Steve leaned forward.
“Not dork, nerd!” he whispered and giggled. But before Steve could straighten up, Eddie grabbed him and pulled him on the bed.
Steve laughed.
Eddie kissed him, but Steve managed to get away.
“Why...” Eddie huffed, pouting.
Steve booped his nose. “Because I have it on very good authority that you won’t remember this in the morning and I want you to remember.”
Eddie grumbled as Steve pulled the blankets over him.
Steve put Eddie’s boots by the door and put the keys, phone, and wallet on the small table next to the sofa.
Eddie mumbled something and Steve went over to the bed to make out what he was saying.
“Who’s authority? Who says I won’t remember. I could, you don’t know.”
Steve brushed Eddie’s hair out his face and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Mine.”
Steve slipped out the door to a snoring Eddie.
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16
Tag List: @bejeweledbaby @avacrebs @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @ohlook-afrog @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever
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Begin again
Pairing(s) - billy Hargrove x fem!reader (past), Steve harrington x fem!reader
Summary- after the end of your 2 year long relationship with billy you finally go on a date again and realize how horrible billy really was to you.
Warnings - mentions of a toxic relationship
Masterlist
I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror, this was my first date I was going on since I broke up with Billy and somehow, I can't shake all the old habits I used to have. he hated when I wore heals absolutely hated them because he said they made me taller than I actually was. I slip them off not knowing if Steve had the same preference. I decide on a pair of Mary janes that still had a heal but wasn't that tall it was barely an inch. this was just a first date down at the coffee shop around the corner, but I still felt this overwhelming pressure to look good.
I put my favorite cassette into my Walkman. Billy hated this song, and he always made it known when I listened to it. "God why do you like this shit" he'd mutter every time. I decided on walking to the coffee shop since it was a nice day, and the coffee shop was just down the road.
when I arrive, I assume Steve would be late because Billy always was. I just assumed all men didn't care about punctuality. but when I open the door Steve's sitting at a table in the far back corner. the bell from the top of the door pulls his thoughts from the menu he was looking at. he looks up and waves me over. when I walk to the table, he gets up pulling the chair across from his out for me. I smile, Billy never did this for me. "Thank you" he shakes his head as I take a seat "it's not problem."
'you dont understand how nice that is, but i do'
he throws his head back laughing when I tell a joke that I didn't think he'd find funny because Billy never did. he always said I wasn't funny, but Steve thought I was. "it's not that funny" I giggled as I push a piece of my hair back behind my ear. he continues to laugh, and I can't help but admire how handsome he looks. I've spent the last I don't know how long believing that love was a horrible thing that I never wanted to do again but right here in this coffee shop everything changed. it was like everything I ever experienced with Billy was erased and I was able to begin again.
James Taylor was my favorite singer and somehow was Steves too. "I've never met a girl who has as many James Taylor records as me" he laughs after I told him about my collection. Billy would've found that as me trying to say I was better than him in some type of way, but Steve doesn't. I laugh "ma-maybe you could come over one day and I Dunno check'em out" I say with a shrug he nods "yeah, yeah that would be fun."
he tells stories about his friends and his family and thinks it's weird I'm coming off a little shy. I was used to listening and not talking with Billy. "Are-are you alright?" he asks his brows furrowed together; I shake my head "ye-yeah I'm fine i-i I'm sorry" I mumble "it's alright you don't gotta be shy around me" he whispers.
as he walks me down the block to my house, I almost bring Billy up trying to forgive Steve for my nervousness, but he brings up the movies that he and his friends watch every Christmas and I want to talk about that. "Yeah, and we watch the grinch every year on the 24th and all the kids come and robin and Eddie too and shit its cool" he laughs. for the first time what's past is past and I don't want to bring Billy up anymore. I don't want to pretend I don't like my favorite artist or pretend I don't love wearing high heels for a man who wouldn't even kiss me. "y'know I really like you and I'd really like to do this again" Steve says as we stop in front of my house "I really like you too" I whisper as I look down at the ground flustered. he places his hand on my chin pushing it up so I'm making eye contact with you. "Can I kiss you?" he asks I nod before leaning in and pressing my lips to him.
'On a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again'
#steve harrington#fanfics#x reader#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#joe keery#fem!reader#female!reader#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove#Spotify
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class of '86- e.m
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: you receive eddie’s diploma for him after his death
Warnings: angst, crying, angry reader, classmates being dickholes, mentions of blood and injuries, mentions of drug use, allusions to sex, wayne being a sweetie, not-so happy ending
Word Count: 4.8k
Request?: No
A/N: howdy! i am back with another one shot that has been on my mind since around august of last year which is insane, and since it is grad szn i thought it was appropriate to share now. slowly getting back into writing so i appreciate the patience. also note: i do not have any current plans to make a part two to this story, so please don’t bombard me with requests for it if you don’y mind :) enjoy! -sava
You have the same nightmare.
Every. Single. Night.
Every night you find yourself back in the upside down, Dustin hot on your tail as you rush over to the field in the darker dimensions version of the Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the body of the man you’d loved for several years lying on the ground as bites liter his body. Blood pooled in his mouth as he struggles for a steady breath, eyes wide as tears gather inside. You dove right down to him, scraping your knee as you clutched onto his figure and clung to him for dear life, your own breathing becoming unsteady as panic filled your entire nervous system.
You will never forget the scared look in his beautiful brown eyes, the ones you found so much comfort in for years as they shined in the bright yellow sunlight during the summers in Hawkins, or how the lights of the colorful stage lights at the Hideout would reflect off of him and enhance his performance in way. You’ll never forget the scared look on his face turning into joy when he saw you, trying to play it cool for a split second and put on a brave persona for you and his little lost sheep he helped bring to the right people.
You absolutely will never forget feeling his breath becoming more shallow as you held him, and how he was reassuring you and Dustin during his final moments. Holding you tight and looking at you lovingly until his grip on your hand loosened and his breathing coming to a halt. You felt you heart break into a million piece when his eyes glossed over and lost the feeling of his heartbeat, letting a violent scream rip through you as the pieces clicked together in your head. The love of your life was gone and there was nothing you could do to bring him back.
Dustin held you as you sobbed, his silent tears creating a puddle on your shirt as he let you grieve and process your own emotions about the matter. Later on he told you he wanted you to have your moment, that he felt bad about grieving him in front of you since you’d known him longer than he did, which made you emotional all over again while reassuring him it was okay to feel the bad feelings and holding him like he did with you as he finally showed you how messed up loosing Eddie had made him, breaking your heart all over again.
The two of you stayed in the Upside Down for a while, not wanting to abandon Eddie and leave him behind along with the rest of the fucked up dimension he would be stuck in. You tried to drag his body out, pulling him towards his trailer, but Dustin tried his best to reason with you, even thought his head wasn’t in the best place either. It was ultimately Steve Harrington of all people to help knock some sense into you, with Robin and Nancy quickly following behind him as they joined you once again.
You’ll never forget the look of pity that covered their faces as they looked to Eddie’s body on the ground below you, then shooting you a sympathetic look as they instantly put everything together.
You will never forget the night your life changed forever.
Smoothing the hem of your sundress out, you take a look at yourself in the mirror of your bedroom, trying your best to put on a brave face for the events that would take place today. Any senior who was enrolled in Hawkins High School before the bell rang on the last day before spring break was getting a diploma, failing grades or not. They delayed the ceremony until after a lot of the bigger messes from the “earthquake” cleared, with the people in charge wanting to try and have a happy occasion for the town to celebrate for a change, giving all the tragedies that the town has faced over the past 3 years. They thought it was vital and needed to attempt to paint Hawkins as a happy town once again.
This meant that Eddie Munson, your Eddie, would be getting a diploma too. The school called Wayne directly to tell him the news, asking if he wanted to come by the high school sometime within the next couple of weeks to pick up the certificate instead of making it a public occasion. If you weren’t by the phone when it happened, you knew Wayne would’ve agreed, having lost his surrogate son and still wrapping his head around the entire situation. But you convinced him that it should be done at the public ceremony with the other students. Eddie had made it a point to actually graduate this year, and he deserved to be part of the ceremony like everyone else.
You knew going into that suggestion he would ask you to accept it on Eddie’s behalf, with half the people in Hawkins still giving Wayne a mix of hateful and sympathetic looks, as he still had matters to attend to. You on the other hand? You rarely left the house, only for groceries and the occasional meet up with Dustin. Watching someone you both admire die in front of you bonds you for life, and you wanted to be there for him and vice versa. The rest of your friends…you rarely saw, sticking to the comfort of your home as you were still coping with the stages of grief. They understand, not having lost someone so intimately like that, aside from Nancy loosing her best friend, Barb. If there was anyone besides Dustin you talked with, it was her.
Opening the door to your bedroom, you walk down the hallway and shovel a few necessities in your purse before grabbing your keys. You exit the trailer, locking the door before walking down to the new trailer Wayne was given as compensation for well…his other one being split in half. Knocking on the door three times, you take a deep breath as you wait for him to come outside and greet you. You could feel the nerves rising up, sending a weird feeling through your stomach as you thought about the different possibilities of how this could go. In a hopeful scenario, you would walk on stage and snatch the diploma right out of Principal Higgins’ hand, then quickly run off the football field after giving the other students the bird, just as Eddie said he would do back before spring break. But you knew you had to remain professional and kind, for Wayne’s sake.
The creak of the door makes you look up, seeing Wayne step out of the house with his light blue button-up shirt on and worn down slacks that you can only assume he’d owned for years now. This was the most dressed up you’ve seen him in the years you’ve known him through Eddie, with t-shirts with jeans and his work uniform for his nights at the plant being the only two versions you’d been used to. Smiling, you take a step back and walk down the steps of the small concrete porch he’d managed to create, trying his best to replicate the old trailer as much as possible. He meets you at the bottom of the few steps, extending an arm to give you a side hug. You flash him a half smile before returning the gesture, taking in the scent of soap and mint before pulling away.
“You clean up pretty nice Wayne,” you tease, slightly chuckling a bit. He smiles, shaking his head.
“You hush,” he tells you, pointing at you before pointing towards his truck. The two of you walk over, throwing open the passenger door and carefully climbing inside.
“I like that dress,” he tells you as he gets in the driver’s seat, his slight southern accent creeping out with each word. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear many dress in all the years I’ve known ‘ya. Mainly just some of Eddie’s old band shirts and that Hellfire shirt he made.”
You can’t help but laugh at his words, knowing he is absolutely right. It was never something you did often, just on the occasional date with Eddie, prom, and your own graduation back in ’84. Nodding, you smooth out the skirt of your dress before turning to him as he starts the engine. “Yeah, these never were really my style. Hell, the last time I wore this Eddie and I were making out in the back of his van at Lover’s Lake last summer.”
Thinking back to the memory, you can’t help but let your smile spread from cheek to cheek, replaying how his ring-clad hands always kept trying to sneak inside the skirt of the dress in order to get to “the goods”, as he referred to it. He had tied his hair back into a low bun, something he knew that always made you swoon and completely weak in the knees. He’d packed a bunch of both of your favorite snacks and called it a picnic, which you enjoyed nonetheless. A couple of beers he snuck out of the fridge when Wayne wasn’t looking and a couple of edibles in your system, it quickly lead to Eddie shutting the van doors and pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body in the back part of the van.
You remember Eddie being upsetting about being held back once again, starting to look down on himself and doubt his ability to ever cross that finish line. You knew you had to step in with reassurance, because hearing him talk poorly about himself always made you feel hurt. So you suggested dedicating a day to spend together, from sunrise to sunrise the very next day. You told him you could do whatever his heart desired, within rationality of course, and you would be there no matter what. No negative thoughts in sight or rainy days, just the two of you curled up in his van and eating, laughing, and being at the center of bliss thanks to each other’s company.
The smile is quickly wiped from your face, snapping back to reality and letting the loneliness sink back into your heart. You visibly frown, turning your head away from Wayne as you felt a pricking feeling tickle the backs of your eyes. Wayne continues the journey to the high school, letting the silence fall comfortably in the car to give you some peace. Wayne usually wasn’t a big talker, even before the loss of his nephew, so it didn’t feel awkward to just let the sound of the motor running in his old pickup as the two of you let your thoughts go wild inside your heads, thinking about the man that was just the topic of conversation.
You feel the truck halt to a stop, snapping out of the far off land your mind wandered to. Looking over to Wayne, he puts the truck in park and opens his door. Looking our the front windscreen, you see the old brick building of Hawkins High School, a placed where you used to wander about for four consecutive years not that long ago. You used to bring Eddie lunch on the occasional off day you had from work, taking a moment to see the old stomping grounds and visit your favorite guy in the world. Now being in front of the building left a bad taste in your mouth. Knowing how much Eddie hated coming to school, especially without you. Dealing with the constantly bullying from all the kids that had already reached their peak and pushing past that typical high school bullshit until he took his dying breath. It angered you to your core.
Finally stepping out of Wayne’s truck, you follow him around the side of the school and down the path that leads to the football field. You hold your hands together in front of you, wringing your fingers as you try and settle the nerves that reside in your lower stomach. You were bound to run into the people who saw you at your most vulnerable state, knowing Nancy and Robin were graduating and Steve and the kids would be in the crowd alongside you and Wayne. As bad as it is to admit, the only people you’re comfortable enough seeing on a regular basis are Wayne and Dustin, so having to finally face everyone else sent waves of nausea through your system.
Making your way into the stands, you make eye contact with Principal Higgins, who shoots you a sympathetic look before chatting amongst his colleagues once more, probably talking about you if you had to assume. Scoffing, you take your seat next to Wayne, trying your best not to be seen by much of the crowd. Wayne takes notice of your nerves and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, making you smile softly.
“So uh, did they give you a run down of what will happen with getting his diploma?” He asks.
“Um, yeah. I had a meeting with Higgins and a few other faculty members and they’re doing the memorial diplomas first, then the rest of the graduating class. Everything is going to be alphabetical, so I’ll go up towards the middle of that-“
You’re distracted for a moment, stopping mid-sentence as you see a familiar hairstyle bobbing through the crowd, with a hoard of kids trailing behind him. Steve Harrington turns, seemingly yelling at the kids to stop playing around and find a place to sit, before looking out at the crowd you found yourself in. You feel your body run cold as his eyes lock on yours, as if you body was plunged into a frozen lake. He waves at you, smiling for a moment before watching his brain piecing together why you’re here, which causes him to send a pitiful but sympathetic look your way.
Cautiously, you wave, watching the kids’ heads turn to look where Steve was and copying the older man’s expression. All but Dustin, who seems very happy to see your face out in the world like he’s been trying to convince you to do for a few weeks now. But the smile quickly fades when his eyes wander over to Wayne, guilt filling his eyes as he quickly turns away. You have told the boy several times that he is not at fault and shouldn’t beat himself up over what happened, but it just makes you sound like a hypocrite for not taking your own advice.
Finally willing yourself to look away after watching them take seats a few rows in front of you, you hear the football stadium speakers begin playing the instrumental music you recognized from your own graduation, peaking down at the field and seeing the green caps and gowns flow out in two uniformed lines. Taking a deep breath, you stand from your position and walk towards the stairs of the bleachers and stand by the faculty member that would lead you and the rest of the family members that are collecting other student’s diplomas who also couldn’t be here in person.
Watching the graduates take their seats, a tapping sound comes from the makeshift stage they set up on the field, watching Principal Higgins smile out to the crowd before looking down at the notes he placed on the podium.
“Good afternoon Hawkins High graduating class of 1986,” he welcomes, pausing as cheers erupt from the about to be former students, as well as the proud families situated on the bleachers. “You have come so far within the past four years, and given the circumstances that our town has faced, it is truly an honor to be standing in front of you all today as you start the next chapter of your lives. Each time you walked through the doors of Hawkins High School, you were determined and dedicated to learning and creating memories that will last a lifetime, so it is time to keep those close to your heart as you say goodbye to those high school years one last time.”
If only everyone who went here had lasting memories, you thought to yourself. It seemed as if he was pandering towards the popular crowd, speaking directly to those who experienced the “ultimate American high school experience”, which made the nausea settled in your stomach even worse. There are kids you know for certain that are in this very crowd of green caps and gowns who did not have the best time, having gotten bullied and ridiculed for the past four years while the administration turned a blind eye. Or there were others who have lost more than they could’ve imagined, and the painful memories of their high school years will stay with them in the darkest of ways.
“Before we begin the speeches and the passing out of diplomas, I want to take this time for the families of those who unfortunately did not make it to this ceremony today. The students who gave their life for this town have been such an incredible presence to not only our school, but our community. So to the families of these students, my sincerest apologies for your losses, and we would like to serve you with the diplomas that they worked so hard to earn over the years.”
Turning back, you look up at Wayne from where you were once seated, watching him hold the tissue close to his chest as he gently began to cry. He knew his nephew was not the most liked person, and you knew he just wished Eddie could be here to prove each and every person that ever doubted him wrong.
“Jason Carver,” Higgins says into the microphone. Scoffing, you keep your attention away from the stage for Eddie’s sake. Of all the people who couldn’t make it here today, you were the least bit sympathetic towards what happened to Jason after all those years of lies and physical violence he showed your Eddie. You also didn’t need to see his older brother, Jake, whom you graduated with a couple years back, act like all macho and pretend he is still the king of the school…even two years later.
“Chrissy Cunningham.”
You turn back to the stage, watching Chrissy’s mother walk up the stairs as she weeps with every step she takes. Taking the diploma from him, she and Higgins exchange a quick hug before another faculty member escorts her off the stage. You felt bad that Chrissy was caught in the crossfire of everything that went down. Being Vecna’s first victim in the recent attacks. But what really hurt was knowing that from the moment she was taken by the slimy creep, Eddie still blamed himself, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve saved her from all this mess.
“Barbra Holland.”
You glance over at Nancy, who you spotted as you walked to your current position. Her big round eyes grew with sadness, looking down to her lap as you watch the guilt consume her. Yet another person you felt for, because if anyone would’ve been able to stop something from happening, it would be Nancy. At the same time, however, you think the loss made her the ferocious fighter that she is today, the anger and pain of losing Barb driving her to the strength and courage she has shown each time this shit keeps coming back, which you applaud.
As Patrick’s name is called, she looks back up and out to the crowd, fixating her big blue eyes right on you. Smiling ever so slightly, you through a gentle wave her way as she does the same, her dimples creeping onto her features as she shoots you a toothless smile. Maybe there was room to have some peace and happiness come out of this day-
“Eddie Munson,” Higgins says stalely in the microphone. The entire stadium falls silent, compared to how the other kids got cheers and claps. The quiet is all consuming, on top of hundreds of pairs of eyes glue onto your figure, staring blankly at your frozen figure.
Making your way to the stage, you carefully take each step one at a time, taking a deep breath in before walking towards Principal Higgins as his arm extends with the diploma in hand. You can almost hear Eddie’s voice edge you on, gaining more and more of a sense of pride as you inch further. “Almost there,” “Third time’s the charm,” you imagine him saying to you, a wide happy grin stretched on his cheeks as the victory of finally graduating reaches its destination.
“Who let the freak’s girlfriend on the field?” you hear someone ask from the sea of graduates. Ignoring it, you reach your hand out, mere inches from touching the rolled paper tied in a bright red bow. Now is the moment everything has led to, all the bullying and negative thoughts and perceptions Eddie endured within his last 6 years. This is what he’s been craving to achieve since last summer. This is-
“DING, DONG! THE FREAK IS DEAD”
“DEADIE MUNSON, DEADIE MUNSON!”
You halt. Frozen mid step as ice floods your system once again. A stabbing pain begins permeating throughout your chest, trying your best to tune the horrible chants and phrases out before the words are replaced with a long ringing in your ears. It feels hard to breathe as you stand there, all the eyes of the administration, parents, and graduates looking at you like some form of entertainment, waiting on the edge of their seats to see what your next move will be. It felt embarrassing, which you could only assume was the goal. They had no problem continuing to tease Eddie, even after his death.
Finally finding the strength again, you take a deep breath before turning around, eyes locking on the podium as the rage inside you begins to bubble. Principal Higgins immediately steps to the side, the fearful look in his eyes telling you he had no issue with what you were about to do. Hell, now it made you think he was scared of Eddie after all those years instead of just simply hating him.
You plant yourself in front of the stand, looking out at all the laughing bodies that fill the stands and the chairs splayed out on the grass field. Their immaturity was telling, acting as if they weren’t taking the next step into adulthood in just a few minutes. There were only a few who didn’t join in with the laughter, which made your heart feel something for the first time in a while. Nancy was looking at you sympathetically, as did Robin and Jeff within the sea of green below you. As for in the crowd, Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as a frown rests on his lips, looking over at the gaggle of children who were also silently sending your their respects. Having them by your side in the crowd was giving you some much needed courage, allowing for you to take another breath before feeling ready to finally air your grievances.
“How dare you,” you say quietly into the microphone. The crowd is once again silent, the careless dickheads that were just taunting you freezing in place and stopping their sentences. You don’t care about the dirty looks the faculty members on stage with you are shooting you, the rage inside your chest is bubbling faster and faster made it impossible to let the cruelty slide.
“How dare you all sit there and talk so poorly about someone who is no longer here. Each and every one of you have no idea the pain Eddie’s friends and family have been through with his loss, and you sitting there and making jokes of it all is the cruelest thing any of you have done to that man,” you tell him, looking around the crowd and singling out those you know are responsible. “You all didn’t know Eddie for who he truly was. Instead you judged him for who you thought he was because of his looks, or his surface level interests. Like god forbid someone prefers to go crazy over metal music and a fantasy game instead of pop hits and sports games. Eddie never believed in everyone liking the same stuff, he embraced his interests and bonded with people who were different like him, all because you assholes judged him for years and made him think that, for the longest time, it wasn’t okay.”
“You have no idea what kinds of things Eddie gave for this town. A town that hated him and made his life a living hell for nearly twenty one years. All the shit he went through as a child, all the humiliation you all put him through in middle and high school. All because he didn’t conform to the bullshit suburban standard all of you were brainwashed into thinking was okay thanks to your parents, who are sitting in the crowd and judging him alongside the rest of this graduating class,” you pause, taking a breath and wiping a tear away. “Eddie gave his life trying to save this town, wanting to prove to you all that he wasn’t a coward or that he wasn’t some evil being you all made him out to be. He was the most amazing person I’ve ever met and I almost feel sorry for you all that you never got to know Eddie for who he really was. He protected and cared so deeply for the people he was closest with and…and I miss him so much. He should’ve been here to accept this diploma, to show you all that he could do it and laugh in the faces of all who doubted him. But instead, I’m here accepting my dead boyfriend’s diploma, so I’ll leave you with my final thoughts.”
“I hope you all know that your years of torment will come back to bite you. Good luck on whatever endeavors life throws your way, and go fuck yourselves,” you spit out into the microphone. Feeling like it was the most appropriate thing to do, you turn to Principal Higgins, flip him the bird, and run off the stage. As you walk towards the exit of the stadium, you spot Wayne rising from his spot in the stands, nodding with a smile as he begins his journey to the front gate, your purse in his hand.
The heavy weight that strained your breathing has finally lifted from your chest, the relief of getting your true feelings off your plate and expressing that so openly has you walking with so much more confidence and ease. You didn’t care what the people in the stadium thought about you are your impromptu speech, because the students of Hawkins High, and a majority of the citizens of Hawkins, were no longer of importance to you, not that they were that much to begin with. You had Wayne, Dustin, and eventually the rest of your friends now that you’re starting to deal with the grief in a healthy way.
Smiling at Wayne, he hands you your purse and begins walking with you out of the gate, his arm around your shoulder as you quickly walk towards his truck. It made your heart warm to see Wayne’s approval of the scene you caused on stage, knowing the fear of his disapproval has already been bubbling in your stomach for the past week. But for a reserved man, he sure did like to see a show of things every once in a while and have a good laugh about it later. Hopping into his truck, you buckle your seatbelt and hand Wayne Eddie’s diploma, smiling as you see the proof of his high school success sitting right in front of you.
“Now what would Eddie want to do to celebrate?” I think we should honor him by spending the rest of the day basking in the accomplishment in the truest form of Eddie.”
“Well I can think of a few things, but those are definitely not on my list,” Wayne jokes, making you chuckle.
“How about going over to the music store and buying a couple of tapes? Then we can stop and get a six-pack at the store and a few snacks and just spend the rest of the day doing nothing. I think that’s the tamest thing he would do,” you suggest.
With a nod, Wayne changes the gear of the truck and pulls out of his space and down the parking lot of the high school, entirely missing a long haired shadow peer from around the back of the school’s brick building.
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson angst#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things angst#steve harrington#wayne munson#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#dustin henderson#the party#fanfic#fanfiction#angst#strangermarvelss
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welcome to lilacliquors's
to ring in the holidays, it's 12 holiday theme prompts!
rules + relevant info below the cut!
unlike kinktober, this event is open to everyone and will feature 12 fluffy prompts to give us some holiday cheer
the 12 days start on december 13th and will go until the 24th, and because we only have 12 prompts, these may be longer than the kinktober drabbles
these prompts are based off of the songs they're named after / have lyrics from! yes it's cute and also it gives me a prompt to work with, so they'll be out faster than the kinktober ones <3
because we have only 12 days, i'll only write for a character once. i know we might all wanna see our faves doing every fluffy holiday activity, but we gotta share the love here
like kinktober, if you enjoyed a prompt and want longer versions, or perhaps you want that same prompt with a different character, i'll be more than happy to write it over the holidays!
i write afab reader only. however, with these being in general fluff prompts and not smut, there is a much higher chance they'll be more gender neutral
i will be tagging all posts with #12 days of ficmas, #ficmas2023, #lilacliquorsficmas, #character name fluff, and #character name ficmas so easier navigation or for tag blocking purposes
the list for my characters can be found here
make sure to check back to this post to see which prompts have been claimed!
day one: walking in a winter wonderland - steve harrington
day two: rocking around the christmas tree - steve rogers
day three: i saw mommy kissing santa claus - soldier boy
day four: dreaming of a white christmas - bi-han
day five: last christmas - diego hargreeves
day six: baby it's cold outside - johnny cage
day seven: christmas wrapping - homelander
day eight: all i want for christmas is you - poe dameron
day nine: santa baby - miguel o'hara
day ten: jingle bell rock - soap mactavish
day eleven: let it snow - tomas vrbada (smoke)
day twelve: the most wonderful time of the year - billy butcher
#johnny cage x reader#mk1 x reader#homelander x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#billy butcher x reader#bi han x reader#syzoth x reader#poe dameron x reader#soldier boy x reader#12 days of ficmas#12 days of ficmas requests#ficmas 2023#dawn.writes
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The Third Day Of Christmas
Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [0.7K]
When someone knocked on the front of Steve’s door, he was busy balancing two pizzas, trying to open the oven door with his foot.
“Hey, babe?” He called to you in the living room, already tucked into the blanket he’d given you when you arrived, tv remote in hand. “Could you get that for me, please?”
You did without complaint, socked feet sliding over Mrs Harrington’s hallway floorboards, ‘cause you’d developed an awful habit in which you’d do anything Steve asked you to.
You’re were disgustingly fond of him, not that you liked to vocalise it all that much. But the boy knew, he could see it in the way you looked at him, when your stoney faced expression melted into something softer at the sight of him, when you took his hand under the table, when you pressed your face to his chest when you grew a little tired.
And Robin and Eddie were quick to poke fun, to make soft noises at you both, ‘aww-ing’ in jest. And you’d be even quicker to tell them to shut up, glaring but you never moved away from Steve.
But it didn’t matter how much you liked Steve, you weren’t willing to stand at his front door and humour the carol singers on his porch.
There was a gaggle of them, all colourful scarves and pom-pom hats, lyric sheets clutched in their hands as they cooed at you, clearing their throats before launching into an off key version of Jingle Bells. It was cheery, too loud, too smiley.
You slammed the door, expression flat, with a hint of horror flashing in your eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve was suppressing a grin as he appeared behind you, reaching an arm over your shoulder to open the door again, just in time for the first chorus. “Babe, baby. Be nice.”
It wasn’t even really an admonishment, not the way Steve said it with such sticky fondness, his arms catching around your shoulders before you could scamper away. He didn’t need to be facing you to know you were frowning, expression sullen and eyes heavy with annoyance as you stared at the carol singers outside.
But Steve wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest as he rested his chin on your head. You could’ve pulled away, he would’ve let you. But you felt the way his chest moved as he laughed quietly, far too pleased at how you shrank back into him, one pom-pom hat away from outright hissing at the holiday cheer, the colour and fluffy ear muffs.
“What are they doing?” You asked Steve, voice laced with disdain. Your eyes were wide, staring at Mr Peterson as he grinned and waved some jazz hands at you.
“Singing,” Steve snorted, Steve nudged his nose to your temple, smiled and raised an awkward hand to Mrs Jenkins when she winked at him. “Maybe not all that well… but they’re singing.”
“Why?” You demanded to know, blunt and sharp.
You felt Steve shrug rather than saw it, a lazy heave of his body against yours and he hummed, good natured and full of humour. “S’neighbourly. Apparently.” Steve grinned wide, pressed a kiss to the spot below your ear and made out that he didn’t see your haunted expression.
“You don’t like it?” He asked sweetly.
“Steven.”
The boy grinned.
Your reply was short and clipped but your hands reached up to curl around his forearms rested across your chest, so Steve only beamed wider. Eventually, the song ended and the group stopped singing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, rolled your eyes when Steve cheered, all faux and obnoxious, just for you.
And then:
“Rudolph the red nose reindeer—!”
“No.”
You slammed the door as Steve snorted, slapping his hand on his knees as you swept past him in a flurry of black clothes and he reached out to catch you just in time, arms wrapped around your waist as he lifted you into the air, making you squeak.
“Steve,” you were soft about it, tucking your knees up and into him, letting him manhandle you without any real complaint, the corners of your lips lifting.
“What?” The boy asked, letting you slip down the front of him, smiling prettily, leaning down to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. “You don’t wanna go carolling? I could get us matching scarves.”
You frowned at him.
“Pink?”
You glared and Steve grinned.
“Like, neon green, maybe? Highlighter yellow?”
“You’re insufferable,” you told him plainly before you walked back into the kitchen, hiding your smile by leaning down to check the oven.
“You love me!” He called back.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington one shot#UDWS12D
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Steddie Smut
Steddie Version of my Cute Little Uniform steve x reader short fic
Eddie makes fun of him in the scoops uniform, steve makes them put it on and fucks him senseless in it.
Sub steve top Eddie filthy smut trans masc Eddie cw: eddies genitals described as Pussy, Dick and cunt probably I can't decide yet lol also oral and p in v, Eddie and Steve are switches I guess
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Eddie had just finished his shift in the cinema and craved ice cream, so that's where he went. Since he had it down really bad for one of the employees it was more than a win win.
Walking out the cinema he subconsciously fixed hair and shirt. More than glad that the cinema let you guys wear whatever as long as it was black and the guys put on the vest that is actually the whole uniform. No problem for the metalhead, his while wardrobe consisted of black shirts.
On the way Eddie encounters loads of know faces, they make a sport out of whispering. "You know, you guys suck at whispering" he says and laughes when he gets called satanist and demon. He flips them the finger and continues to go his way, unbothered.
Some people just fucking suck and Eddie could sing songs about it. He actually does, one of their songs is specifically about stupid idiots. Its also called stupid idiots.
He passes a few gossiping cheerleaders, hearing who apparently was the towns bicycle, he scoffed and rubbed his nose. Soon the scent of freshly made waffles and ice cream comes made his mouth water. Along with something else. Munson, get your head in the game. He shook himself before entering the ice cream parlor.
Scoop's Ahoy was a lovely and well lit place. Looking around you notice the bananas hanging on the doorframe that probably allows the employees to access the break or storage room. From what Eddie had heard and seen it must have been the break room.
The bell in the front rings, making Eddie turn his head to look that way.
Steve's face was stuck in an unamused grin, trying to upkeep the friendliness. But he could tell that Steve needed some help. The group of young girls semmed to be abusing the companion policy of tasting the ice cream before buying. When he saw the Sinclair girl he laughed, he'd played dnd with her a few times. "Hey Nerd" she greeted Eddie.
Quietly he waved at her and she widened her eyes. "Erica I think you we're about to go to claires, they just put up a four for two sign~" Eddie basically sang and smiled widely. Of course she nodded and left the shop with all of her friends.
"Thank you" someone sighedbehind the counter, ruffling his hair smiling at Eddie, clearly relieved. Of course Eddie knew who it was, gazes finally meeting. "She is smart, very smart..and you're too kind sometimes." He fixed his hat and smiled a little forced. That's when Eddie decided to make his day.. well worse or better. And shoot his shot finally.
"You know Harrington that little outfit really brings out your eyes" he cooed, grinning like the brat he loved to be. Especially if that meant getting laid by Steve Harrington. he might even be flirting a little bit, but ofc he'd never admit to that to be honest. He growled lowly. "Don't say that. You know how much I hate the hat." he said trying to fix his hat. "It ruins my best feature." He argued. Just making you smile widely.
"Anyway Harrington, I'd like to order one scoop of chocolate chip" you said, scanning the layout of the different ice cream flavours. "Ah, I'm sorry that was all eaten by those little monsters, you better go for… salted caramel" he suggested, knowing Eddie liked that flavor, as he'd ordered it the last time.
"Okay then that.. I actually love that one a lot." Eddie hated to admit that Harrington was right but.. steve was so handsome that he'd almost forgotten his plan.
His eyes were soft whereas his expression was a little mad. "You're still gonna pay for this.." he murmured while scooping your ball of ice cream flawlessly. Steve handed Eddie the cone and their fingers inevitably touched, sending chills down Eddies spine.
Eddie Munson was no idiot, so he acted like he hadn't heard him, sticking his tongue out at him. "You're gonna regret that" Eddie cooedsweetly winking at Steve.
Since he did work in the mall too, he had no shame in walking behind the counter. He had no shame in general but thats something different. Steve blinked a few times not sure what to say or do, since Eddie walked into the back, exchanging high fives with Robin, who pushed Steve after Eddie, winking.
"You've been in on this?" Steve asked confused and she just shrugged. "I'm a good wimgman" she just said.
"I was always curious where this room led to, not gonna lie" Eddie murmured while looking around.
He looked at the whiteboard with clearly russian words and an alphabet. "That's not important" the taller male said, looking at Eddie smiling a rather wonky smile.
"Sure.." the metalhead said sat down on the couch.
"Woah woah what do you think you're doing here?" Steve interrupted closing the door behind him.
"What does it look like? I'm Just looking around.. I've to said I've been curious what this room was." Eddie seductively licked his ice cream . "Kinda mad you didn't show me before" was what Eddie said before Steve came closer. "I didn't show you, because I didn't want you to see me in this silly uniform" he said. Eddie and Steve we're not dating.. but there definitely was chemistry between the two. It was almost disgusting, at least that's how Robin had described to Eddie a few days before.
His hot breath met Eddies face, making him bite his lip looking slightly up at him, still licking the ice cream seductively slow.
That made him growl again. "What's going on Harrington? Cute little outfit made you swallow your tounge?" he teased again. That's when he had enough. Grinning he pinned Munson to the wall licking his lips. "Well, how bout we put you in it and you decide if its so cute?" He whispered while slowly putting a hand on the others chest before dipping his head down to slowly start kissing him. Finally, Eddie thought. From little pecks to open mouthed kisses the ice cream gets forgotten and falls on the ground, Eddie grabs the others face greedily deepening the kiss with tounge which he gladly allows.
Steve let his hands both swiftly slip under Eddie's shirt, undressing him, leaving his binder on. He knew Eddie would give him access to his chest if he wanted wanted, but also take to his uniform shirt off putting it on Eddie instead.
And obviously Eddie didn't mind, he enjoyed every touch and kiss. It was better than he had ever imagined. Every touch made him whine. Harringtons calloused hands rubbing Eddies nipples, even through the binder, made himmoan. "Nhg~ Steve~ Puppy" Eddie finally moaned, causing him to twitch in his pants. "Say that again.. please" he demanded while going down on his knees unbuttoning Eddies pants slowly, lust in his eyes basically drooling at the sight of the metalhead in his uniform.
"Puppy~" he cooed laying a hand on his cheek softly squishing his face. "Mh- Fuck" he whined while dragging the pants fdown his legs. Eddie was more than ready for him to do anything, and since he seemed to be so greedy for his pussy he grinned. "Mhm yes good Puppy, so greedy for me huh?" T
Eddie asked, seeing him twitch again. By now that boy had a full on boner. Slowly he nodded, looking up at him with his big ouppy eyes. "Want to eat out this dripping pussy ?" He nodded. "Use your words."
"Yes please Sir. I wanna eat that… delicious Pussy of yours and suck on that beautiful dick" he begged while playing with the hem of your underwear. "Beg for it" Eddie fell into a haze, just like he was. Subspace Steve was something so beautiful it made Eddies mouth water, and not only his mouth. He was dripping wet for that handsome man. And in a matter of seconds his underwear pooled at his feet and the brown haired, doe eyed Steve Harrington was looking up at Eddie Munson for approval. He put a Hand in his hair and tug it lightly, making him moan. Fuck was that a beautiful noise.
"Yes?" He asked jumping onto one of the counters spreading his legs, easy access for the other, more comfortable for Eddie aswell. Slowly he stood up, discarding his underwear while licking his beautiful full lips. "Lets move this to the couch" he murmured and manhandled Eddie down from the counter, making Eddie hold onto his shoulders one hand tangled in his mullet.
The way he held Eddie made his tip tease his entrance which made the metalhead whimper. He desperately wanted him buried deep inside, but first wanted to tease him some more. Dipping down intentionally made him moan, Eddie loved that sound. "If you keep doing that I'm gonna cum" he whimpered, setting the smaller man down on the couch before kneeling in front of him. "Please let me suck your cock.. please.. Sir" he begged, eyes still huge.
Looking down at him,Eddie grinned. "Well if you ask nicely I'll think about it" he said while running his hand through his hair, spreading your legs in the process. His gaze fell on your middle, basically drooling. "Please, Sir.. Daddy I wanna taste that pretty pussy.. so pretty and dripping.. just for me" he beggeg putting his hands on your thighs holding your legs open. And that was it. You couldn't wrap your head around it but he was so fucking hot. "Go ahead pretty boy." And with that he dived in, tongue meeting your folds, your juices mixing with saliva and you moaning in pleasure.
Steve Harrington was a natural. He knew his way around bodies, especially Eddies body. "Mh you taste so good Sir" he mumbled into Eddies cunt, looking up at him with his big doe eyes. Lips glistening with Eddies juices and his own saliva. "You're such a good boy for me.. wanna make me cum?" he was eagerly nodding in response. "You want me to suck your dick.. Sir?" he asked while running a hand through his hair.
"Oh puppy, can you do that for me?", again he nodded, dazed eyes. Eddie pulled Steves hair to get him closer to his dick again. "Then make me cum." Yes Sir" he moaned into the others cunt and started sucking Eddies dick. He licked around the base, using his fingers to rub Eddies folds, dipping his fingers in every time. Then he switched. Placing his fingers on his dick, but slowly inserting the tongue in the metalheads hole, making him hold back a scream of pleasure. The curly haired muffled his moans with his own hand, careful not to cause suspicion.
"Fuck Baby.." Eddie then cooed, looking down at him, grabbing the shirt." Fuck . you're so wet.. just for me, Daddy" he moaned dipping his head into Eddies dripping heat again before he also slides his fingers into hus cunt making him squirm. "Just like that Puppy" Eddie said letting go of the shirt lacing both of his hands in his hair. Pulling on it, hard. It's making him wince but moan in unision.
"Fuck Daddy you feel and taste so good" he says, muffled by Eddies throbbing cunt. That sends Eddie over the edge making him release without warning, on his tounge, face and fingers. Eddie, quietly as possible moan his name as he cum.
That just made him lick Eddie faster, helping you riding out your high, before he finally looked up at you. Face covered in Eddies cum, eyes big and expression definitely dazed, Eddies pussy got him so drunk on his lust. "You're so handsome" these words made him stand up and sit down next to him to give you a heated kiss that quickly turned into a makeout.
Neither of them were complaining, they loved it. Besides the sexual tension had build up in the last weeks, Eddie and Steve both could swear their friends even had placed bets on how long it would take.
After a few minutes they broke the kiss for air. "Mhhh" he made, looking at eachother. "I wanna fuck you and take charge." he said grinning. Eddie wasn't complaining about this either, how long had he wanted to be fucking owned and dominated by Steve Harrington himself? Probably for some time now. Nodding he bit his lip, slowly slipping into subspace.
"Okay, Sir" he then said, which made him get into his domspace. "Fuckin good boy" he cooed, running his hand over his still sensitive core, dipping his fingers in. He pumped his fingers a few times before taking them out and putting them into his mouth. "You still taste so fucking good.." he lowly moaned in eddies ear before pulling him up on his lap.
#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie stranger things#steve x eddie#steddie smut#smut#smut fic#eddie survives#eddie munson smut#steve Harrington smut#eddie munson fanfic#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#p links#stranger things p links
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Part three/four of my Steve Does Rocky Horror au! Because I live here now, apparently.
Parts One Two and Three (slash two-and-a-half) here.
So Eddie spots Steve half in half out of his Frank-n-furter costume behind the theatre and basically SCREECHES his name in shock, and then when Steve jumps half a foot in the air and looks around frantically for whoever the hell just recognised him, because oh-shit-oh-fuck-what-if-it’s-a-homophobe-from-Hawkins and spots Eddie, there’s a brief moment of mutual deer-in-headlights staring at each other, before Eddie snaps of of it and BOLTS away, dragging Jeff behind him.
(The boy is a runner, okay, this has been established)
Jeff REFUSES to believe that Eddie saw THEE Steve Harrington behind the theatre. No, nope, you Have It Wrong, My Friend, That Man Just LOOKED Like Harrington, Let Me Live In Denial, Please And Thank You. Eddie, meanwhile is having a crisis about the fact that he spent a solid two hours lusting avidly over Steve Harrington’s thighs in fishnet stockings, which is an objectively INSANE sentence to think, what the FUCK is even happening?! Steve Harrington is NOT sexy! He DOES NOT sing and dance in high heels! THE WORLD AS EDDIE KNOWS IT IS CRUMBLING AROUND HIM!
The next day, Eddie has joined Jeff in denial. He is Not Thinking about Steve at all, no sir, Steve who? He just wants to enjoy getting to really know the new show he just watched, maybe learn the songs on his guitar, practice at shouting the right things at the right moment so that next time he goes to the stage show, he can properly Get Into It. He needs the film version! Get to know Tim Curry as Dr Frank, and not That Other Guy Who Shall Not Be Named And Also Isn’t Nearly As Sexy.
Let’s Go To Family Video, he says. It’ll Be Fun, he says.
(Guys, Gals, and Pals, you know where this is going.)
“No, Robin, I SWEAR, it was definitely Munson. You think I could mistake that guy for anyone else?” Steve is saying, still kind of worried about the whole thing.
Ding! Goes the bell over the shop door.
“GOOOOOOOD AFTERNOON, FAMILY VIDEOOOOOOOOO-Oh shit” says Eddie.
Because Oh Yeah, This Is Where Harrington Works. Why did Eddie choose NOW to remember that? Literally ANY OTHER TIME would have been a better time for him to remember that.
“…Munson.”
“…Harrington.”
“…Buckley.” Says Robin, who was feeling left out.
This time, the stare off ends not when Eddie panics and runs, but, when Steve, who is both awkward in uncomfortable situations and desperate for Validation, asks Eddie “the show wasn’t THAT bad, was it?” All self-deprecating and shit, to which Eddie responds with
“Are you kidding me, that shit was the COOLEST THING and you know it” which means that Steve, now adequately complimented, switches to Flirting Mode™️.
(He does not realise, Ladies and Gentlefolk, that he has switched to Flirting Mode. But don’t worry, Robin will (gleefully) inform him later.)
“Oh really? What was you favourite part?” He says, leaning forward with a seductive smile.
Which is about when Eddie remembers the fishnets and the corset, and loses the ability to function again.
Robin, stood off to the side, is watching both of them judgementally while also memorising this entire conversation to relay to their Gay Adoptive Parents on their next Indy weekend.
They’re gonna find it HILARIOUS.
#stranger things#rocky horror#steve harrington#dr frank n furter#robin buckley#eddie munson#Jeff#steddie#humour#ficlet#just so you guys know#Steve does not yet realise that he’s bi#you can be in plays and have gay friends while not being gay he says#and he’s absolutely right!#but also#baby.#the way you feel about Bruce Springsteen?#that right there is a Hint
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your smile, my ghost
Eddie hates Tuesdays. Nothing good has ever happened on a Tuesday.
It’d been a Tuesday when he’d ran away from home the first time, a Tuesday when he’d run away from home the third time (and the fourth and finally, the last time, the fifth). It’d been a Tuesday the first time he’d gotten shoved into a locker, the first time someone had loudly and publicly pointed out the worn state of his clothes. And, case in point, just last Tuesday he’d found out he’s currently failing English. No surprise there really, but it still proves his point.
Tuesday’s unequivocally suck.
But it’s a Tuesday when Harrington, Wheeler, and Byers walk through the school doors together, heads bent close as if the entire school body hasn’t just frozen in place to watch this fever dream of a trio walk through the doors.
Eddie’s guilty of freezing as well, despite how hard he tries to not care about any of the stupid school politics. His hand’s suspended in mid-air where he was reaching for….reaching for something. He doesn’t fucking know.
The fever dream trio are still walking up the hall, whispering to each other so low Eddie can’t hear them despite how quiet it’s gotten. In fact, they’re doing such a good job of pretending to not notice the stares that they almost convince him they haven’t noticed at all. Such a fantastic fucking job that he almost misses the tension sitting tight in Harrington’s shoulders, the white knuckled grip Wheeler has on the strap of her bag, the anxious creases around Byers eyes as he presses against Wheeler’s side. They’re all painfully aware of the staring, they’re just doing a remarkably good job of ignoring it.
Or at least they are, until Harrington glances around, real casual like, and ends up making direct eye contact with Eddie.
If you asked him later what he’d thought was going to happen, he’d have told you nothing, nothing at fucking all. Because Steve Harrington was a bully but he didn’t bother singling people out, that was a job delegated to good ‘ole Tommy & Carol. But this version of King fucking Steve, a boy who’s never paid a lick of fucking attention to Eddie past the dismissive glances he’s swept across everyone who was beneath him, this fucking version of Harrington goes bone white, flinching sideways into Wheeler, eyes wide with something Eddie doesn’t have the brain capacity to decipher at the moment.
Eddie, Harrington mouths, silent and yet somehow louder than any shout. Eddie stares back, blank and uncomprehending (and something, he doesn’t know what, but something in Harrington’s eyes shatters). Wheeler grabs his arm, trying to pull him along, eyes darting to Eddie and away like she’s scared to let her eyes linger for too long.
“You know we can’t, Steve,” she hisses, they’re close enough for him to hear this time. “Let’s go.”
Byers moves to Harrington’s other side and gently ushers him along, his gaze sweeping the length of Eddie —his falling apart shoes, the frayed ends of his jeans, the pins on his vests, his frizzy curls — eyes curious as he takes him in. He doesn’t know what Byers sees but his eyes go a little sad right before he turns away.
He wants to call it pity but he knows the Byers are nearly as hard off as he and Wayne. So really, he’s still just as lost as he was five minutes ago. He’s just lost. He fucking hates feeling lost.
Eddie stays standing in front of his locker until the first bell rings, blankly staring at the spot where Harrington’s mouth had shaped his name like a prayer he’d forgotten the words to. It’s a Tuesday and that means math and English questions he doesn’t understand and history quizzes and PE and running which he hates.
It’s a fucking Tuesday and the most interesting thing to happen in Hawkins in years somehow involves him and it doesn’t make any fucking sense.
Wheeler is a priss. She’s a straight-A student, on track to be valedictorian. A straight-laced girl who should fit into all the neatly labeled boxes Eddie had mentally placed her in years ago. But her voice as she’d hissed at Harrington had been tired and full of iron.
Byers is a loner, an outcast just like Eddie. He’s always been alone though. No hellfire, no makeshift friend group that could fall apart at a moment's notice. But he’d been leaning into Wheeler like she was his last stand, the hill he would die on given half a chance and a sword sharp enough.
And Harrington. Steve fucking Harrington. Well, he makes the least sense of all. If you’d asked Eddie yesterday if Harrington would be caught dead hanging out with Byers he’d have said not a chance in hell.
But clearly, hell is high school and Steve Harrington is alive just to piss Eddie off. Because Harrington’s arm had been flung around Wheeler’s shoulder, loose and unassuming, his body language open and inviting except for the tension hiding in his shoulders. He’d smiled at Byers with teeth, bright and happy, right before he’d turned and seen—
Before he’d turned and looked at Eddie like he was seeing a ghost or an angel like the ones the preachers forgot Revelations described. He’d mouthed Eddie’s name like it was something that belonged in his mouth. Like he had some divine right to it when Eddie had never made him a prophet, had never made him anything at all.
Eddie doesn’t understand what’s going on but he’s never been one to let sleeping dogs lie. Far be it for him to start now.
I've no idea if I'll ever finish tbh but I'm so in love with this first part and I just feel like it's a crime that I haven't shared it and maybe sharing this part will give me some kind of motivation to freaking finish it
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#time travel#pre-season one#atlanta writes#atlantablack#fic: time#fic: your smile my ghost
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Fantasy au where a group of travelers are escaping the kingdom of Hawkins. They hear of a hidden city - rumoured to keep all outcasts safe from the king of Hawkins��� tyrannical rule, under the protection of a guild of powerful mages and warriors.
They’re given a link, a super secret contact to meet in an inn the town over that will help them escape and find said city.
They come face to face, Strider in fellowship of the ring - style, with Eddie the Banished - gaze sharp and intimidating. They’ve heard the rumours- Hawkins runs rampant with stories of his alleged crimes - namely involving the missing crown prince. Every layman has their version, but it all chalks up to the same fallen Hero and great Villain story.
It’s clear that he is skeptical and very protective of who he brings with him into the city, but the owners of the inn - a gentle lady by the name of Joyce and her equally intimidating husband, Hopper, vouch for them.
It takes some time to get there, they don’t take a direct route to avoid ambushes and the like.
Eddie neither confirms nor denies the stories, in fact he stokes the flames and plays it up - they act as additional protection and armor, an air of “don’t fuck with us.”
Through the bravado and exaggerated stories, they start to learn bits and pieces about Eddie along the way - things that don’t add up. He wears lots of jewellery - he jingles like a cat with a bell when he struts - but one of the party points out that a lot of them look like protection charms, each handmade, possibly by children judging by the make.
He flirts like nobody’s business, but it never goes past that. They had to flee a tavern one time when Eddie blows up over a patron who couldn’t take a “no” a few times too many.
Among his jewellery, Eddie wears a lot of rings. Stacks of silver, gaudy and eccentric, though they spend enough time traveling together to start noticing the sole gold band on his left ring finger.
They do get ambushed once - but manage to fight it off mostly unscathed. Eddie plays it off as usual, but one of them notices him twisting said gold band, brow pinched at night when no one is looking.
He’s also surprisingly sweet - he’s always nice to the kids he encounters, always treats the waitstaff at taverns and shops with respect, he’s protective over the younger members of the travel party when they encounter someone particularly rowdy. They also notice how he picks up little things along the way - snack cakes, hand carved die. “Little gifts,” he tells one of them, with a lopsided grin.
Maybe Eddie the Banished isn’t the villain of this story after all.
When they reach the city - it’s relief - for once in their lives the air tastes like freedom. A bunch of people are there to welcome them and show them around, but mainly they’re there for Eddie. He’s nearly swallowed by a swarm of children, and catches his arms around a girl with mousey brown, shaggy hair (“Birdie” they hear him call her - they think she’s his betrothed for a hot second) before the small sea of people part, and the group of travelers still.
Because at the center of the crowd, though a few years older and in looser, more comfortable clothing than they’ve ever seen him in before, is Crown Prince Steve Harrington.
And before they can think to do anything, Eddie is dropping all of his weapons, bravado completely dropping, face blown open with relief. Then he’s running, and wrapping the other man so tightly in an embrace that they can’t tell which limb belongs to who. They watch them sway gently in the middle of the city square.
“I kept my promise. I came back to you,” they hear Eddie murmur with such reverence, foreheads touching, hands cupping the other man’s face with such gentleness -
And then they’re being ushered away towards the baths, “Birdie” talking a mile a minute about how they must be tired and how they should give the lovebirds a second.
And maybe the rumours and stories were wrong. Maybe it’s a story about freedom and love instead.
Anon…you don’t underSTAND I’ve been craving a fantasy book for so long and this is exactly what I NEED. please I am begging at your table for any scraps you care to share PLEASE 🙏
#I’m trying to be calm I really am I swear#I’m trying so hard not to keyboard smash my way through the day god I love fantasy Steddie#this is so warm and high adventure!!!!#the reveal at the end is so perfect I could live in this for DAYS#thank you for sending it to me!#if you decide to write more I’d love to read any kind of fleshed out version#but if this is everything then I’m delighted you graced my inbox with it because I am holding it close and never letting go#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#ask#anon#thank you anon I’m sorry I have nothing to add but I don’t think you need me to add anything or probably wanted me to add anything#I’m here to just share your story and happily so
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I think we're alone now (steddie/steve whump fic)
Finally finished my latest 'ate the whole of my life' fic on AO3 (forgot to post the ending here before-- srsly can't possibly keep up with two streams, but figured I'd cross-post the start now it's completed in case anybody is interested) Thanks to anybody who stuck with me for the ride ;)
I think we're alone now (56194 words) by katya1828
Chapters: 25/25
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington
Series: Part 6 of Hard to Hate (aka Steve whump fic thread!)
Chapter One
Eddie’s night was warming up—i.e. he was rolling his second joint—when a loud crack sounded from the undergrowth. That was when Steve Harrington stumbled into his life.
For a few thudding heartbeats, Eddie was spooked. Was it a very lost, totally smashed freshman? A bear?
Eddie jumped up from his favourite log. Steve lurched, aimlessly, toward Eddie’s half-assed attempt at a bonfire. Then he froze—perhaps noticing he was on course to transform himself into a Nike-clad version of the Wicker Man.
From a few yards off, Steve stared at Eddie, who recognised the douche from the eternity they’d spent together at High School. Eddie gawked back, incredulous: “What the heck, man?”
Steve kept staring. Didn’t move. Only stared.
“Uh, Harrington. You know me, right?”
Harrington didn’t seem to—only saw a long-haired freak. “I swear this doesn’t happen to Jon Bon Jovi,” mumbled Eddie. He made a mental note to push some low-quality stash to Steve and his dipshit friends next time they came crawling. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
Still no answer.
“Harrington? You okay? Never thought I’d see you wandering round like a lost little sheepie.”
Of all Eddie’s off-road haunts, this was the most remote and secret. Nobody un-initiated ever found it. That said, jerks like Steve had their woodland haunts, too—Lovers Lake, Skull Rock. Maybe the moron got lost? Most likely… but, Oooooh shit! All kinds of alarm bells clanged off in Eddie’s head. It was kinda chilly this late on a spring night, and Harrington had got no jacket—he could afford a decent jacket, right? Uuuuuuh, and Steve wore only one sneaker.
Eddie edged close enough to spot a bruise near Steve’s lip, the blood streaking one side of his face. “Jesus, what happened to you, man?”
Steve’s knees buckled, and he slumped heavily onto them. Eddie indulged in a split second of indecision—this wasn’t his problem, and he could just run . Then he crouched down and caught Steve, clumsily, before Steve crumpled face-first into the mud.
So, there he was, arms wrapped around platinum dickhead Steve Harrington, who leaned heavily against him
“Shit,” said Eddie. “Okay, big guy, do you think you can make it over to that luxurious couch?”
Eddie nodded toward the log. Steve didn’t even lift his head. He trembled violently, his breathing ragged and uneven. Eddie—because wtf else could he do?—hauled Steve to his feet. He guided Steve over to the fallen trunk, groaning at the near deadweight pressed against him. Steve sank onto the log, drooped forward, then wrapped an arm tight around his ribs. Finally, as Eddie hovered, still tempted to flee to the next county, Steve lifted his chin and blinked.
“Munson?”
Okay, maybe Steve wasn’t quite the dick Eddie thought him to be. That was becoming far from the least of Eddie’s problems. Steve was pale and bleeding, and yeah, there were goddamn twigs in that fabled hair.
“Yeah, it’s me, buddy.” Eddie sat down beside Steve, who widened those huge eyes even further, then kinda flinched. Most shocking of all, his lower lip trembled… and Eddie baulked, half-wondering if that single joint had gotten him trippy.
Because Eddie was suddenly as up close and personal as he’d ever been to Steve’s incongruously pretty, if currently somewhat bruised mouth. The mouth he loathed the hell out of, because he got why girls wanted to kiss it so bad. Or, even why some guys did… If the homophobic bullshit that beyond-asshole Billy Hargrove recently put around about Steve had any truth behind it.
Oh, yeah. Eddie had long harboured a beyond-dumbass hankering to do the same as all those lucky gals and guys.
Steve trapped his trembling lip between his very white teeth. “Hey, it’s okay,” said Eddie. “Uh, welcome to my fort. I apologise—it’s kinda rough around the edges. No luxury picnic bench at this one, though the builders are due next Tuesday to plumb in the ensuite.”
Steve didn’t laugh. The drop of fresh blood sliding down the side of Steve’s face proved the final straw. If Eddie wasn’t going to run away, then he was going to have to take this seriously.
Ugh, seriously?
“Okay, Harrington—where do you need to be? Because I ain’t go no wheels. Not that they would be much use out here, anyhooo.”
It was kinda a surprise when Steve answered: “I… uh, I don’t know.” He ran his fingers distractedly across that mouth. His nails were dirty, and when he pushed them into his hair, they snagged.
“Look, you’re bleeding—are you hurt bad? Do I need to get you some help?”
“No. I’m okay… I’m good,” mumbled Steve. “Just gimme a minute, all right?”
“Cool.” Eddie couldn’t contain a sigh of relief. One unwanted guest here was one too many. “Can I get you…” Okay, so he didn’t exactly have a supply of WASP-friendly mineral water. “It’s beer or 7-11 fake cola.”
“Beer,” murmured Steve. An owl hooted and the wind rattled through the trees, and Eddie scooted off to oblige. He fumbled in his pack to locate a not-too-grubby Dunkin Donuts napkin. Meanwhile, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Steve reach into his jeans pocket, and draw out a jar of pills.
By the time Eddie returned, Steve was tipping the contents into his palm. Which was going badly, because his hand still shook. Way too many pills came out, and Steve grunted as they tumbled to the moist forest floor. Then he dropped the jar altogether. “Shit, shit, shit! I need those, man, I need them.”
He sounded totally distraught, half-sliding, half-falling off the log in pursuit. Eddie kneeled down to help and got to the jar first. When he squinted to read the label, his eyebrows shot sky-high.
“Valium, dude? Wow—never thought I’d see you poppin’ the housewives’ fave.”
Steve, kinda shame-facedly, grabbed the jar back. “Can I have that beer now?”
“Hey, not judging, dude! Stole ‘em off your Mom, huh?” Steve's latest flinch answered that one for him. “Look, I can fix you up with more if you’re interested. Better, in fact.” Eddie opened the beer for Steve—no point risking further spillages—then had second thoughts. “Okay, if you’re going to take those, do you mind if I suggest the Cola option?”
Steve shrugged, as Eddie’s mind screamed—since when did I A, counsel the sensible choice, B, give a flying fuck? That said, he wanted Steve to be able to leave, ASAP. Eddie side-lined the beer, and grabbed the Cola, and opened it for Steve. Who palmed two pills into his mouth, and washed them down with the weak, brown nectar. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes, and let out a long, shuddering sigh. Another drop of blood trickled down his cheek.
“We need to stop that bleeding, man.” Very carefully, Eddie leaned forward with the napkin and dabbed at the blood. Steve flinched harder than ever, and sliced up a hand as if to protect himself. “Don’t worry, I’m not going in for the death blow. I just need to clean you up a bit.”
Steve’s shoulders sagged, as if in surrender. Eddie tentatively wiped more of the blood from Steve’s brow, and his own worries ratcheted up a whole new notch.
Harrington was usually a brash dick, and had no trouble mouthing off about anything and everything, straight outta the gate. Whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into, he was clearly badly shaken, maybe even in shock, and… Crap, what if he had amnesia? If he was found with Eddie… Oh yeah, baby, Eddie could see exactly where that would go.
Everyone who was anyone would assume he attacked Steve. The Pigs would do anything to dump trailer-trash Eddie Munson Jr into jail where he belonged. Harrington himself could easily lie, or simply not refute any assumptions, and flush Eddie right down the shithole.
Eddie removed the blood-spotted napkin, folded it over and handed it to Steve. “Hold that over the cut.”
When Steve didn’t instantly respond, Eddie took his fingers—cool, smooth, weirdly brittle right now—and placed them in the right spot. Steve hissed between his teeth, and Eddie withdrew his touch.
This was weeeeeeiiird.
“Look, Harrington—are you gonna level with me about what you’re doing out here?”
Steve stared at the fire, mouth pressed into a thin white line.
“You’re making me nervous, man.”
Eddie glanced at the napkin Steve held to his head. Not soaked with blood, so the wound had clotted. Steve's fingers still trembled, though… and something panged, deep inside Eddie.
He slid off his denim jacket, placed it carefully around Steve. “Hey, we’re safe, I promise. Nobody ever comes out here, and you don’t have to spill your guts, but… Did you, uh, by any chance clash with Hargrove tonight? That boy has some serious unchecked anger issues."
Steve palpably tensed. Eddie was onto something. Not his business, and yet…
“Those rumours he put about were harsh, man. What he said about you putting out for him—and, uh, any dude who dropped their trousers—totally out of order.”
Steve’s laugh was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie ever heard.
So Eddie went and said waaaaay too much: “Look, if by any remote chance you and Hargrove were real, and he’s gone and been a tool about it, it’s cool, man. I’m… uh, I’m not like other people.”
“Wha—” That had Steve looking up sharply, a single line creasing across his forehead. He looked away just as swiftly, shook his head. “Nah. Tonight had nothing to do with Billy, it was my fa… No, I guess… I guess Billy started it.”
Eddie reached for the opened beer can. He casually took a slurp. If only to put Steve off the scent for now. ‘Cos, yeah, Eddie was gay. Worse, he’d been begrudgingly hot for Steve for an age. Not that any of that mattered right now—damn his stooopid soft heart.
Although getting involved would doubtless place Eddie in peril, he was genuinely worried about Steve. Rumours alone couldn’t have landed him in such a mess.
Eddie puffed out his cheeks shuffled a little closer along the log, till their thighs almost touched. He offered the beer: “You wanna talk about it now?”
Read more on AO3...
#steve harrington whump#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#stranger things fanfic#steddie#steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington hurt/comfort
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