#I need steve nancy and robin to be involved in this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chelseeebe · 5 months ago

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just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?”

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.

not if you were sleeping in his bed.

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.

tonight it’s different, you get to pick.

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.

you land on edward scissorhands.

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.

it’s torturous.

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.

if only she knew.

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.

eddie can’t take it anymore.

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.

“you want some help with that?”

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things

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eddiesxangel · 8 months ago

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Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson imagine

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stevie-petey · 2 months ago

Text

episode six: the dive

“You do realize Skull Rock is a super popular make out spot? It wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright? I practically invented it.” The words slip from Steve’s mouth before he can really understand the consequences behind them. He stops dead in his tracks and stares at you, eyes wide in fear. “Nice one, Steve.” You pat his chest sarcastically, sharing a disgusted look with Dustin.

Summary: dustin rejects the pity pringles you offer, eddie is straight up not having a good time, nancy does some investigative journalism about you and steve (gossips with robin), and steve suddenly decides he wants to take up scuba diving. for some reason. but hey ! title drop time !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, mentions of death and violence

Words: 7.4k

Before you swing in: HI !!!! HAPPY ONE YEAR OF COME HOME !!! weve reached the scene everyone has so patiently waited for ;) can yall believe it took a full year before we finally reached the fated title drop ??? i can ! anyways, pls enjoy. i love this chapter and you guys so so so much :')))

–

“Want some?”

Dustin smacks the pringle that Steve dangles away from his face. “Get that away from me.”

“But you love Pringles,” your hand waves in front of his face, holding yet another chip. You’re sitting in Nancy’s trunk with Steve, eating leftover pringles from the supply run from this morning for Eddie. Dustin sits in the middle, squished between Max and Lucas. “Here, take one as a peace offering.”

“I’d rather be stuck between Lucas and Max than you and Steve, Y/N.” Dustin huffs, though he does eventually take the chip that you offer him.

Steve chews another chip. “Totally harsh, dude.”

The car turns and you’re suddenly pressed against your boyfriend, knee bending at an uncomfortable angle. “Cozy car, Nance.” You quip, repositioning yourself so your ribcage is no longer in your lungs.

“Sorry, guys.” She glances back at you. “I know this isn’t ideal, but Eddie is almost definitely low on food and he’ll want to hear what we found.”

“Not to be a wimp, but can I sit in the car for this visit?” Robin asks from the passenger seat. “‘Cause this is gonna totally and royally suck.”

You toss a chip into your mouth. “I agree. Especially after his weird broadcast yesterday.”

Dustin whips his head to look at you. “Eddie contacted Cerebro?”

“Did I not tell you?”

“No!”

“Shit, sorry.” Yesterday was a blur. After the lights exploded in Victor Creel’s attic, you’d all driven silently back to Nancy’s. Hardly anyone spoke afterwards. You all had gone to bed quiet, reeling from the implications of what you’d found. “It was weird. I couldn’t really understand him, the signal was weak.”

Dustin gestures wildly at you. “Okay, but what did he say?”

“Something about Jason? And holes in a boat?” You’d been recovering from your panic attack when Eddie’s voice came through the radio. The details were fuzzy.

“A boat? Why the hell would Eddie need a boat?”

You shrug. “No clue, but I feel bad for the guy.”

The entire situation is grim. Eddie has been accused of murdering at least two Hawkins students, he apparently runs a cult, and now the only way of clearing his name involves El and the Upside Down. Both of which are currently out of reach.

While you can barely tolerate the guy, it’s a shame that he doesn’t stand a chance.

“It’ll be fine.” Nancy insists, but Robin shakes her head.

“I can’t stand to see those doe eyes of Eddie’s break again. I really, really can’t.”

“‘Doe eyes’ is a little much.” You scrunch your nose in displeasure. Steve snorts and Dustin glares at you. “Just saying.”

“At least he can drink himself into feeling better.” Steve offers, picking up the six-pack of beer and waving it around.

Max looks out the window. “That’s what my mom does.”

Lucas catches your eye. No one catches what Max has said besides you two. He looks upset, but you shake your head at him. Now isn’t the time. If he says anything to her, Max will close back in on herself.

Robin and Nancy return to their conversation while you sit quietly in the back. Steve notices your change in demeanor and frowns. Unsure what’s caused it, he holds up a pringle and winks at you. “Bet you can’t catch this with your mouth.”

It’s a welcomed distraction. You sit up, eyes alight. “You’re on, Harrington.”

And the game is on. Steve tosses a chip into the air and you duck your head, angling your mouth so that you catch it just before it lands. Eyes wide, you throw your arms in the air and cheer. “I did it!”

Steve claps, whooping. “That’s my girl!”

Reaching for the bag of pringles, you grab one and don’t even give Steve a warning before you’re throwing it at him. He yelps, surprised, but with ease he catches it. He cheers again and chews triumphantly. “And you tried to cheat!”

You roll your eyes. “Technically it wasn’t cheating, I just didn’t warn you.”

Steve pokes you side, eliciting a giggle from you. “I’ll get you for that, Henderson.”

“I’d like to see you try–” The sight of a police car stops you.

Nancy sees it, too. “Oh, shit.”

You’re just outside of the boathouse Eddie is hiding out in. There are cars everywhere, cops walking along the perimeter, controlling a crowd that has formed. A news station van blocks your vision, but you get a sickening sense of deja-vu anyways.

This is exactly how it’d been when Fred’s body was found.

Nancy ushers everyone to the side of the van, ducking down so you aren’t seen. Officer Powell is giving a speech to the press. He stands before the frightened audience, voice stern, but also tired. You can’t imagine what it must be like, being chief of police without having any idea of the horrors that Hawkins hides.

“The Roane County line received a call a little after midnight, reporting a homicide here on the lake.”

Everyone freezes. Another body has been found.

“That’s three deaths in three days.” You can’t breathe. This is all happening too fast. Faster than anything you’ve ever had to deal with before.

Chief Powell continues. “It was here that we found the body of the victim, an eighteen year old senior from Hawkins High, Patrick McKinney.”

Lucas stiffens next to you. Patrick had been his teammate. His friend. Numb, you rub his back, offering whatever ounce of comfort you can give him.

“We have also identified a person of interest.” The chief holds up a photo of Eddie, showing it to the broadcasters before him. “Eddie Munson.”

You suck in a breath. The only thing Eddie had going for him was that no one knew he was the main person of interest. His identity had still been concealed, buying him a little more time while you tried to find answers for him.

But now it’s too late.

“This is not good,” Steve mumbles as officer Powell encourages the town to come forward with any information they may have about Eddie. “This is really not good.”

“He’s fucked.” You whisper. The crowd standing before Powell is large. Nearly half the town leans into his every word. They’re angry. All of them. Another one of their own has been taken. Another child.

And they’d do anything to save Hawkins’ children.

The manhunt has begun.

“Dustin, can you hear me? Hendersons?” Eddie’s voice cackles through the walkie.

Everyone scurries around your brother while he fumbles with his bag, anxious to respond. When he finally finds his walkie, he breathes out a sigh of relief. “Eddie. Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“Nah, man.” He sounds exhausted, seconds away from completely breaking down. Something within your chest tightens. No one deserves this. “I’m pretty goddamn far from okay.”

Robin prods Dustin to ask where Eddie is. No one wants him to be alone right now. Not when he’s become Hawkins’ most wanted.

“I’m at Skull Rock. Do you know it?”

Dustin nods eagerly. “Uh, yeah. That’s near Cornwallis and–”

“Garrett, yeah.” Steve is already running towards Nancy’s car. “I know where that is.”

You grab Dustin’s shirt. “Tell Eddie we’ll be there soon, alright?”

“Yeah-yeah I will.” The urgence in your voice scares him a little. He knows you’d do whatever to protect someone, but he never thought you’d extend this protectiveness to Eddie. Bringing the walkie to his lips, Dustin delivers your message. “Hold tight. We’re coming.”

The walkie clicks off.

All you can do is hope that you make it to Skull Rock in time.

–

The last time you trekked through Hawkins woods, you had to endure Steve and Dustin constantly arguing as you all threw down chunks of meat onto the train tracks.

Now, over a year later, they’re still arguing.

At least this time there isn’t the stench of raw meat.

“I’m telling you, we’re going the wrong way.” Dustin nags Steve, holding his compass in one hand and a map of Hawkins in the other. “Skull Rock is in the other direction. You’re totally wrong.”

Steve shoves him, causing the teen to trip over a tree root. “What’s up with you always thinking I’m wrong these days?”

“Because you’re always wrong.”

You flick the brim of Dustin’s hat. “Steve has had a few good ideas from time to time. He’s taking us the right way.”

“No, he’s not. It’s north.” Dustin points behind him. Steve rolls his eyes in disbelief. “I’m positive. I checked the map.”

“Nice one, Steve.” You pat his chest sarcastically, sharing a disgusted look with Dustin.

“Okay, I didn’t mean it like that.” Steve trips over his words, nearly falling flat on his face as he struggles to keep up with you. “I mean, I did kiss a lot of girls there, but-but that was before I enjoyed kissing you!”

Your brother gags. “Real catch there, Y/N.”

“I’m ignoring you both,” you tell the boys, continuing down the path Steve pointed out earlier. The gaps in the trees start to become familiar. The rugged terrain smooths over from excessive use, creating an unmarked trail that you’ve walked before. “More importantly, I think we’re getting close to Skull Rock.”

“See? I told you, little Henderson–” Steve starts to cheer, happy to be right. Then the joy on his face quickly dissipates. He’s realized something. “Wait, how… how do you know where Skull Rock is, Y/N?”

A twig snaps beneath your shoe. “Used to go there all the time with Jonathan.”

“What?” Steve and Dustin balk at you, nearly toppling over the other in shock.

Quickly you realize the horrific implications of your words. “Jesus, not like that! We would only go there to read together and listen to music!”

It was your way of escaping life together. Just the two of you, early mornings before the rest of Hawkins woke up. The dew would still be on the grass. Everything was easier, then.

You miss those days more than anything.

Dustin’s suspicious eyes linger on you, though he seems content enough with your explanation. Steve, however, still looks uncertain and utterly mortified. His distrust makes you sigh in annoyance.

“I have never once kissed Jonathan.”

“Right!” Steve snaps back to himself, coughing and wiping his hands on his pants. “Yeah. Totally already knew that. For sure.”

Dustin hits his shoulder. “Dude. Learn when to shut up.”

“Working on it.” Steve mumbles bitterly, trying to catch your eye, but you ignore him.

Behind you, Nancy and Robin walk silently together. They’d been the odd ones out in the group. You had paired off with Dustin and Steve to try and quell their arguing while Max and Lucas wandered off alone.

Neither girl speaks. There’s not a lot to say between them. When you come across a fallen log, they watch silently as Steve extends his arm to you, helping you jump over it. His grip is delicate on your arm, though firm enough to guide you. After you’ve jumped, his eyes instinctively go to your ankle, the same one you sprained years ago, to make sure you aren’t limping.

It’s a subtle, easy to overlook action. But Nancy and Robin see it, and they both understand how painstakingly sincere it is. Your ankle never quite healed right. Some days it bothers you, particularly after walking long distances or jumping too much on it.

And Steve knows your body well enough to understand this.

“Ugh,” Robin’s scoff breaks the silence, happy to voice what she knows Nancy is thinking. “They’re so adorable. I just wanna squeeze ‘em, ya know?”

Nancy smiles at her, although it’s strained. “Steve is very… sweet. With Y/N.”

“‘Sweet’? More like tooth-rotting, Nance.”

And Robin’s right. The way Steve is around you, there almost isn’t a word for it. Nancy has never really seen the two of you together. By the time Steve finally asked you out, it’d been only a week before Joyce told Jonathan they were moving.

Steve had stepped back after that. He allowed you and Nancy to spend as much time as physically possible with Jonathan before he moved. He recognized the strained history between him and Jonathan; he hadn’t wanted to spoil the little time you had left together.

When summer ended and senior year began, Steve had already graduated and Nancy had thrown herself into the school paper by then.

Now, after spending the last few days around you and Steve nonstop, Nancy can’t help but notice all the nuanced ways the two of you are together. She’s picked up the small cues between you, the quirks in your relationship. And she feels a strange sense of curiosity about it.

“Steve and Y/N,” Nancy pauses, unsure how to phrase her question. She doesn’t want to sound intrusive or rude. “How, um. Serious are they?”

Robin is slightly surprised by her question, but the flush of Nancy’s cheeks tells her that it’d been hard for her to even ask it. “Oh, they’re very serious. Like starting a life together serious.”

“A life together?” Nancy doesn’t believe it. She doesn’t understand how the two of you could already be at the point in your relationship. You’ve been together less than a year.

A lot less longer than Nancy has been with Jonathan.

“Yeah, Steve has this crazy idea of following Y/N to NYU.” Robin almost doesn’t think she should be telling her this, but Nancy seems to be hurting and she feels bad for her. Nancy wouldn’t be asking about this if there wasn’t a reason to. “His heart is like, totally set on it. It’s crazy and all, but it’s sweet in his own Steve-ish way.”

“It is sweet.” Nancy affirms, a far off look in her eyes. The same far off look in her eyes from the other day in the library. Robin had asked about Jonathan and suddenly Nancy’s entire demeanor shifted.

Robin clears her throat. “I’m guessing you and Jonathan haven’t figured out the whole life thing yet?”

“That isn’t any of your business.” Nancy responds coldly.

“Well, you did start this entire conversation asking about Steve and Y/N’s relationship.” Robin points out, though not unkindly. “All I’m saying is that someone in a happy relationship wouldn’t ask about another person’s relationship and look totally depressed while doing so.”

Nancy shakes her head incredulously. “Jonathan and I are fine.”

“Okay.” Robin says, but it’s obvious to them both that she doesn’t believe her.

“We’re good.” Nancy tries again, but not even she believes her own words. Defeated, she turns away from Robin and sighs heavily. “It’s just, he was supposed to be here for the break and then he backed out at the last minute for some vague, mumbly Jonathan reason.”

She doesn’t know why she’s confiding in Robin about this. They’re barely friends, Nancy has never spoken to her outside of party related stuff. But Robin remains quiet, listening, Her attention is all it takes before the dam in Nancy’s chest collapses.

“And, to be honest, I’m not that surprised because I’ve been feeling him pulling away lately.” All the hurt and anxiety and insecurity Nancy has pent away finally unravels as she speaks. She can’t stop. “And I don’t know if it’s because we’re 2,000 miles away or if he met someone new or-or if Y/N–”

Nancy stops herself, aware that Robin is your friend. Not hers. Looking away, she hopes Robin didn’t hear her slip. “And now I can’t find out why because apparently he’s blown up his family’s house phone or something, so yeah. If the mention of his name caused a slight muscle spasm or curiosity over another person’s relationship, that’s probably why.”

She swallows down tears. Her chest feels lighter, emptier. The frustration is gone, though the bitterness remains.

Robin is quiet for a moment. The resentment Nancy has been exhibiting makes sense now. While Steve would follow you anywhere, Jonathan doesn’t seem to want to follow Nancy. “Feels like a perfectly reasonable reason to flinch or be nosey.”

Nancy smiles at her, eternally grateful. “Does you accepting my nosiness officially make us friends?”

Robin immediately agrees, albeit in her own shy way, and Nancy laughs alongside her. It’s a nice moment, one Nancy hadn’t known that she needed. Your friendship with the girl doesn’t seem so strange now.

Steve’s distant cheer alerts the others that he’s found Skull Rock.

“Oh, boom!” He crouches beneath a shrub and swats away a spider web. He’s too excited to gloat that he doesn’t even care that there could be spiders in his hair yet again. “In your face, little Henderson. In your stupid, cocky little face!”

“Who’s the fifteen year old here?” You ask your boyfriend, looking at him pointedly.

Dustin looks down at his compass and frowns. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“You hearing him, Y/N?” Steve waves his hands in front of the giant boulder. “Even with it staring him right in the face, the kid can’t even admit that he’s wrong! And you’re saying I’m the immature one? He’s such a little butthead.”

“Sure, because every nineteen year old says butthead as an insult-fuck!” A body lands next to you with petrifying force. You fall back in panic, heart pounding in your chest.

“I concur,” Eddie smiles at you wickedly. “Your brother, Dustin Henderson, is a total butthead.”

Dustin is hugging Eddie before you’ve even caught your breath. The relief on his face is evident. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.”

“Yeah, me too.” Eddie clutches your brother tightly, the weight of the last few days bearing their toll on him. Still, the glint in his eyes hasn’t left yet. Winking at you, Eddie’s mischievous smile is back. “Never thought I’d see precious Hawkins’ sweetheart at Skull Rock. Sorry for the fright, by the way.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

Eddie pulls away from Dustin and nudges you with his shoulder. “To be fair, you were kinda useless when I needed you yesterday. Isn’t your whole shtick helping people?”

Sheepish, you duck your head. “In my defense, the signal was shitty. You kept breaking up, I couldn’t really do anything about holes in boats.”

“It’s okay, you’ll just donate your liver to me the next time I need one.” Eddie nudges your shoulder again, eliciting a begrudging laugh, breaking any remaining tension between you two.

Steve stands next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. His eyes never leave Eddie, distrustful. “You’re not taking Y/N’s liver.”

“No one’s taking my liver,” you roll your eyes at him fondly before turning to Eddie. “But I can bake you something as compensation.”

Eddie clicks his teeth. “Even better.”

Nancy hands the bag of food over to him and he takes it eagerly. He rifts through its contents while everyone else gathers around him. You all allow him time to adjust, to breathe for a moment.

But eventually the overwhelming need to know outweighs the guilt. Nancy, always the one to get straight to the point, finally breaks the silence. “What happened yesterday?”

Eddie’s face darkens. “Jason and his goddamn goons. They were at the lake house and I was cornered. Didn’t know what to do. The fuckers were angry.”

Your eyes wander his face, noting the lack of bruises and cuts on it. A fight hadn’t broken out, which means Eddie escaped somehow. “And when they found you?”

Eddie takes a swig from his flask. He winces at the taste, but it seems to settle his nerves. “Turns out, the boat didn’t have holes.”

“So Patrick’s body, was it…?” Nancy can’t bring herself to finish the question.

“Found in the lake? Sure was.” Eddie smiles venomously. “He tried swimming after me, so did Jason. Only one of them made it back to shore.”

Lucas looks away, grief clouding his expression. You mumble an apology to him. You hate that there isn’t anything else you can do to help him. He’s lost so much already.

“It was the exact same thing that happened to Chrissy. Patrick’s body shot out of the water like a fucking rocketlauncher.” Eddie says bitterly. His teeth are clenched, the memories from last night are gruesome to recount. “Then his bones started snapping and Jason lost his mind. He thought I was the one doing it.”

Dustin paces next to you. He’s mumbling to himself, every detail Eddie reveals only worries him more. Vecna has made his third kill. You and Max are next. There’s something that he’s missing. He just doesn’t know what.

“I ended up falling into the water and swimming to shore. I tried calling, but my walkie was busted, man. Drenched.” Eddie drinks again. He shakes his head curtly, scoffs to himself. “So I, uh. Did the thing that I now, apparently. I ran.”

The condescension in his voice, the cold laugh, upsets you. He’s disappointed in himself, he hates what he’s done, but no one blames him. There was no saving Patrick. Anyone who witnessed such a cruel death also would’ve run away. “You had no choice, Eddie.”

He ignores your comfort and instead answers Nancy’s question of what time the attack took place. “Yeah, I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie unclasps his watch and holds it up. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”

Nancy catches the watch he throws her at and quickly reads the time on it. “9:27.”

You and Robin look at each other in surprise. She raises her eyebrows, thinking what you are. “That’s the same time our flashlights went kablooey.”

“That’s one hell of a coincidence.” You mutter to yourself, but Steve hears you anyways and squeezes your side.

“That surge of energy had to be Vecna attacking Patrick.” Nancy pieces together, tossing Eddie his watch back.

It isn’t a comforting realization, but at least it’s information you can use. You now know where, how, and when he Vecna attacks. The only piece missing is what to do with the information you have.

Dustin continues to pace back and forth. He’s hunched over, and when you look closer, you realize he’s scowling at his compass as if it personally offended him.

“So now we just need to sneak into his lair in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.” Max says, as if it’s the most casual sentence in the world.

You look at her like she’s crazy. “We’re not going to the Upside Down!”

But no one is listening to you. Instead Steve, Robin, and Max begin a philosophical debate about whether or not Vecna has a heart or if he’s a vampire.

“It was a metaphor.” Max informs Steve, slight disappointment in her voice.

“A bullet should work on him, right?” Eddie asks the group.

You shake your head at him. “Bullets never work.”

He stares at you, somewhat terrified. “How… how do you already know that?”

“We’ve had a lot of practice.”

“That’s actually even more upsetting to hear.”

Lucas and the others start spewing creative ways to kill Vecna. They’re graphic and violent, but you already know that none of it will work. You’ve fought creatures from the Upside Down before; they’re notoriously difficult to kill, oftentimes requiring fire, bullets, knives, and bear traps.

None of which you currently have.

Nancy knows this, too. “We can’t do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.”

“Why are we all suddenly okay with going there?” You ask incredulously. They’re all suggesting the Upside Down as if it’s fucking Disneyland. “I mean, haven’t we been trying to cut any connection to that goddamn place for the last four years?”

“What other option do we have, Y/N?” Nancy pushes. “You know there’s no other way to stop this.”

Max sighs in exasperation. “What we need is for El to get her powers back.”

“I miss her.” You sigh as well. You’re worried that there’s something wrong. You’ve called the Byers’ home a million times now, but no one is answering. Despite the weirdness between you and Jonathan, you still want him to be okay. He’s never gone this long without talking to you.

And with Jonathan’s silence comes silence from El and Will, too. You hope they’re okay as well, especially knowing that Mike is supposed to be with them this week. You figured by now that Will would’ve called you to complain about Mike’s obsession with El.

Instead all there’s been is silence, and their silence unnerves you.

Steve voices that he also misses El, turning to Eddie to explain how she has powers, but Eddie isn’t paying attention to him.

“Hey, Henderson’s not cursed, is he?” His eyes follow Dustin’s pacing figure, nervous.

“No, but I am.”

Eddie chokes on his spit and Steve snaps his finger at you. “That’s so not funny, Y/N. You’re in danger.”

“My point exactly. I feel that I’ve earned the right to joke about my demise.” You say, though you do grab his hand and squeeze it softly to voice your unsaid apology. As much as his concern warms you, you wish he didn’t have any at all for you. Worry has never been kind to Steve. Trying to brighten the mood, you turn to Eddie. “Don’t you agree?”

Eddie raises his hands. “I’m not a part of this.”

“Boom!” Dustin’s loud screech causes everyone to jump. He points his finger at you, a manic glint in his eyes. “Bada… bada… boom!”

You shove his finger out of your face. “Are you done yet?”

“I was right.” Dustin is smug, the mania in his eyes has yet to settle. “Skull Rock was north.”

You want to strangle your brother. You love him, you really do, but he can be very egotistical sometimes. He’s spent the entire conversation obsessively searching for a way to be right, rather than figure out what to do next about Vecna.

He’s insane.

Steve throws his head back in annoyance, equally as fed up with Dustin as you are. “You’re serious? This is Skull Rock!” He points at the giant boulder behind him. “You’re totally, absolutely, 100% wrong. Right now!”

“There’s literally nowhere else Skull Rock could be, Dustin.” You back Steve up.

Dustin smiles. “Yes�� and no.”

Steve has to step away, and you can’t blame him. You’re also seconds away from bashing your head against a tree. You’re in a forest. There are plenty to choose from.

“This worked correctly when we left the Wheelers’.” Dustin holds up his compass. “It was correct when we got in the car on Kerley, but it started to slip the further east we went. Now it’s way off. When I was leading us here, I wasn’t wrong. The compass was.”

Steve insists that the compass is merely faulty equipment and that it still makes Dustin wrong, but you start to remember another time a compass started acting up. How it almost caused the party to split apart.

El had been the one controlling the compass, leading them in circles because she hadn’t wanted them near Hawkins Lab.

Which would mean…

“It isn’t a faulty compass.” You look up at Dustin, now understanding.

His face splits into a proud grin. “Correct. Lucas, do you remember what can affect a compass?”

The teen is startled by the question. Lucas’ face is masked with confusion, but suddenly everything clicks. “An electromagnetic field.”

Robin questions what any of this means, prompting Dustin to explain what Mr. Clark told you at Will’s funeral. He explains the electromagnetic theory and how the presence of a stronger field can make a compass stop working. “So either there’s a super big magnet around here, or…”

“There’s a gate.” You finish, ice washing over you. The idea terrifies you, but somehow it makes perfect sense. “Maybe even multiple gates.”

Everyone looks uncomfortable with this new information, but Dustin cuts through the tension. “It’d have to be smaller, way less powerful.”

“A snack-sized gate.” Robin adds, and you appreciate that she’s trying to make you laugh.

Steve asks how multiple gates can even be possible, and all Dustin can do is shrug. He doesn’t know, but it’s the furthest you’ve gotten to any semblance of an explanation. “The last time we’ve seen anything like it, it was a gate. And I hope it is, because then we’d have a way to Vecna. And a shot at freeing Y/N and Max from this curse.”

It’s the most hopeful you’ve seen Dustin all week. He’s optimistic, endlessly proud of himself for figuring out the missing piece of the equation.

“Okay, but there’s still the Eddie problem. What do we do about him?” You remind your brother.

Steve nods. “Yeah, he’s still a wanted man. We can’t just go hike the woods.”

Dustin is already several feet away, eager to start following the compass. He’s so close to finally lifting the curse. He’s going to save you. He will. “This little capsule might be the key to saving all three of them! Max, Y/N, and Eddie.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that even if you do find a way to kill Vecna, it’d be almost impossible to clear Eddie’s name. No one else knows about the Upside Down. Legally speaking, you aren’t even allowed to know about the Upside Down.

But Dustin bows to Eddie and pretends to tip his hat. “What say you, Eddie the Banished?”

Everyone turns to the older teen. It’s a lot to ask of him. This entire time he’s been hiding, fearful of shadows and people. You wouldn’t think any less of him if he declined. And yet, Eddie surprises you. “I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor, which if I’m totally straight with you, I think is a really bad idea, but the Shire… the Shire is burning.”

Dustin bounces up and down in anticipation. You cross your arms, rolling your eyes at him, but his childish glee makes you smile anyways. It’s cute, as much as it pains you to admit.

Eddie stands up. “So Mordor it is.”

He marches towards Dustin, no ounce of hesitation within his movements. He has complete and total trust in your brother. He’s following him into what could very well be Hell, and yet Eddie does so with a brave face. They really are close.

And Eddie has chosen to join, not run away.

“No more running?” You catch his arm.

Eddie smiles at you. “No more running.”

“What the hell is Mordor?” Steve cuts in, lost.

You giggle at him and grab his hand. “C’mon, Harrington. To Mordor we go.”

–

Dustin’s compass leads you back to Lover’s Lake.

You and Steve walk quietly behind the others. Your fondest memories together are at the lake. It’s where Steve finally asked you to be his. That night, underneath the stars, you kissed for hours and felt as if you were the only two people in the world.

As if reading your mind, Steve brings your hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

The small moment between you is ruined when Dustin suddenly starts to speed up, practically running away from the group. Eddie shouts at him to slow down and the thought of your brother alone in the woods frightens you. Pulling away from Steve, you run after him.

“I think we’re getting close!” Dustin calls over his shoulder, not seeing the water in front of him.

Eddie grabs the back of his hoodie and saves him before he can fall in. “Watch your step, big guy.”

“This is confounding,” Dustin is breathless, utterly in awe.

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max is skeptical.

You hum, thinking. “Unless there’s somehow another reason for Dustin’s compass going haywire, I’d say there’s a gate here.”

“Whenever the Demogorgon attacked, it always left an opening.” Nancy slowly says, her eyes scanning the water as she studies it. “Maybe Vecna’s the same way.”

Dipping the tip of your muddied mary janes into the water, you look down at it thoughtfully. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

You hate the Upside Down and all that it’s taken from you. Hopper, Will’s childhood, Max’s brother, El’s life. You hate all the violence and pain it brought into your life. The scars that litter your skin and the nightmares that will never leave.

But Max comes first. You have to save her. It doesn’t matter what it’ll cost you as long as she’s safe.

Eddie guides everyone to the boat he used to escape from Jason. Though its engine doesn’t work, he reassures the group that it’ll be fine. At the very least, it’ll get you deep into the water. Steve helps him push it to the shore’s edge.

Robin steps onto the boat first, using Steve and Eddie’s heads for balance as they hold the boat steady. They scoff at her, but she doesn’t care. Eddie goes next, then Nancy. When you go to step inside, Dustin pulls you back.

“Have you lost your mind?” His hand doesn’t leave your arm. “In case you’ve somehow forgotten, you’re also marked. You’re not going anywhere near a goddamn gate.”

His voice shakes with fear for you. Your heart twists. “Dustin, I haven’t had any visions yet. Just the headaches. I even have my walkman on me. I promise I’ll be fine.”

“I’m coming with you.” Dustin juts his chin out, trying to appear brave before you.

But you see through him anyways. “You’re not. I need you to stay with Max and Lucas for me, okay?” Before he can argue with you some more, you kiss the top of his head. “I love you.”

Just as Dustin can’t stand the idea of losing you, you can’t stand the idea of losing him, either.

Dustin snatches your walkman from your pocket. You lunge at him, but he’s fast. In a heartbeat he’s at his backpack, grabbing an old plastic bag, before he starts frantically wrapping your walkman within it. He ties the plastic tight around it, making it airtight.

“I hate what you’re doing,” Dustin gives the walkman back to you with contempt in his voice. “But I’m not losing you to a waterlogged walkman.”

The pressure of tears builds behind your eyelids. You love your brother endlessly. Kissing his head again, you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You’re never losing me.”

“I better not.” He mumbles, sinking into your embrace. “And I love you too, by the way.”

You laugh wetly, and Eddie takes it as his cue to finally speak. “Not to ruin this tender sibling moment, but this boat only holds like three people tops. Dustin wouldn’t be able to come anyways.”

Dustin sticks his tongue out at him and Nancy extends her arm. “Compass?”

Reluctantly, your brother hands her his compass. After he’s given it to her, Steve finally turns to Dustin. He lowers his voice, trying to give him some privacy. “Listen, I’ll keep Y/N safe, alright?”

Though he doesn’t want to, Dustin nods. Steve is the only person that he trusts your life with. If it were anyone else, Dustin would’ve thrown himself onto the boat and demanded he be next to you. But you’re with Steve and your walkman is safe. That’s all he can ask for now.

“You better.” Dustin warns, but his heart isn’t really in it.

Steve claps his shoulder and kicks off the shore’s edge, sending the boat into the water. It’s a small boat, Steve has to wrap his arms around you to fit. You’re pressed tight against his chest while Eddie, Nancy, and Robin are squished on the other side of the boat.

“Bedtime at nine, kiddos!” Robin shouts as the boat floats away, giggling.

You hit her shoulder. “Be nice, they’re worried about us.”

She shrugs, indifferent, and starts helping Eddie steer the boat. Nancy guides them with the compass while you and Steve hold up the flashlights. It’s eerily quiet on the lake. The only sound that infiltrates the night is the soft crash of the waves against the shore.

About halfway into the lake, Nancy orders Eddie and Robin to stop rowing. “Woah, woah, woah. Slow down.”

The boat comes to a stop. You shine your flashlight over the compass and watch as it spins wildly. It can’t seem to decide on a direction to point in. “Definitely not just faulty equipment.”

Nancy nods, her face grim.

“Guys, what’s going on? Talk to me.” Dustin’s voice crackles through the walkie. He must’ve seen the boat stop.

“Your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘aah!’” Robin tells him, eyes narrowed at the instrument.

You take the walkie from her. “I think we found the gate.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy’s concerned voice causes you to turn.

Steve has taken his shoes off and he’s already stripping his socks by the time you process what the hell he’s doing. “Steve Harrington I will drown you before I let you close to any goddamn gate.”

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out, angel.” He says hastily, taking his other sock off. “Unless one of you can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years.”

“What, did the swim team train you in dimension hunting?” You grab his arms, struggling against his strength to stop him. He fights back, overpowering you easily. You’re starting to panic now. “I-I’m not letting you down there!”

“It’s gotta be me.” He’s speaking to you in a hushed, understanding tone. Steve’s eyes find yours, and he pleads with you to listen. “Let it be me.”

Let me save you.

“I…” You don’t want Steve to go; you’re scared you’ll lose him if you do.

“Y/N, please.”

Don’t make me beg for your life again.

Last summer Steve had been torn away from you by Russians. You watched as they took him from you, pried him from your grasp. The fear, the overwhelming sense of despair you’d felt back then had almost strangled you.

You’ve already almost lost him once.

It would kill you if it happened again. You know it would. He’s your lifeline. Steve is the air you breathe and the flesh on your skin. He’s your constant, your home.

“Come home to me, okay?”

They’re the same words you screamed to him the last time he was taken from you. It’d been the only thing you could think of, the only way to encompass all that he is to you. But Steve hadn’t been able to swear his oath to you. Time had run out.

But not tonight.

“Always,” Steve promises.

Then, ignoring everyone around you, Steve pulls you into a bruising kiss. His kiss, his promise, they breathe life back into you. The assurance that he’ll come back to you fills honey into your bloodstream. The taste of his lips coats your tongue in dandelion oil.

Someone clears their throat aggressively, not so subtly reminding you and Steve that you’re still on a boat surrounded by three other people.

Breaking apart, your cheeks burn when you see Eddie’s kissy face. “Romantic.”

“Shut up.”

You help Steve undress. It’s intimate, tender. You would do anything for him. Pulling his sweater gently over his head, you kiss him again. “Good luck, honey. I love you.”

Steve rests his forehead against yours, breathing you in for the final time. His hands cup your face, warm and rough. “I love you too, angel.”

Eddie hands him a flashlight wrapped in a plastic bag. “Hey. What Y/N said. I mean, without the love confession. Um. Good luck.”

Taking the flashlight, Steve thanks him. Robin grabs your hand, both of you needing the other for comfort. She’s terrified, Steve is her best friend. Nancy looks at him with a look in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher.

“Be careful.” She finally tells him.

Steve nods, looking back at you one last time, before taking a deep breath and diving into the dark water.

The seconds drag on like hours. The moment Steve dives in, you feel every second he’s under the water like a knife cutting into your lungs. Your legs shake, Robin’s grip on you is so tight that it threatens to cut off circulation, but you don’t let go of her.

“Where we at, Wheeler?” Robin asks after what feels like a decade.

“Closing in on a minute.” She sees your shaking body and rests a kind hand against your shoulder. “Steve can handle it. I know he can. He’s strong.”

You bite your nails anxiously. Blood fills your mouth. You know Nancy is trying to comfort you, but her words only make you feel worse. Steve is strong, but he’s still only human.

A horrifying thought crosses your mind: you’ve dreamt of this before, only it’d been Billy drowning you in the pool. Your body goes numb. Tonight can’t end that way.

Almost another minute drags on before Steve’s head miraculously resurfaces. He inhales sharply, splashing water all over you, but you don’t care. You’re leaning over the boat’s edge the second his hands reach the surface.

You can finally breathe again.

“Steve!” You kiss his soaked hair, grateful to feel his skin against your lips again.

“I found it,” he gasps out, spitting water out of his mouth. He reaches for your hand, anxious as well to feel your touch. “I-I found it.”

Robin cheers, quickly alerting Dustin that he’d been right about the gates. You go to help Steve back into the boat, but he waves you away and goes back to holding your hand. He doesn’t want you getting wet, it’s cold out and you could get sick.

“It was wild.” Steve rubs his finger over the back of your hand. He’s smiling, adrenaline coursing through him. “It’s more a snack-sized gate than the mama gate, but still, it’s pretty damn big–”

Suddenly he’s back underneath the water, pulled so deep below that he almost drags you down with him. You scream, shrill and terrified. Nancy and Robin rush to your side, holding you back so that you don’t fall into the water as well.

Steve resurfaces again, but he must sense that this isn’t the end, because he rips your hand from his. He does it to save you, to ensure you don’t get taken with him. But you fight against it, you don’t understand why he wants you to let go of him.

Steve pries your hand away. “Y/N–”

And then he’s gone.

Everyone screams as Steve’s body disappears into the water.

“Steve!” You’re dizzy with blind fear. He had protected you. He had spent his final seconds making sure that you wouldn’t get hurt, and now he’s gone.

Robin’s arms are around you, holding you back as you scream. She knows what you’re about to do. “Y/N, you can’t–”

“Let go!” You throw your shoulder back, prying your arm away. She screams at you, Nancy and Eddie do as well, but you’re already tearing your sweater off.

You’re going in. You don’t care. Steve needs you.

He needs you.

The water is cold. It shocks your system. Eyes burning, you struggle to make out where Steve is. Faintly, in the dark water, you see his body being dragged down. There’s something twisted around his ankle, pulling him towards a red light. You can hear his muffled screams. His arms flail, bubbles escape his mouth as he struggles against it, as he’s pulled through the red haze.

Lungs burning, you will your legs to kick as hard as they can. You’re both running out of time.

The closer you get to the red haze, the colder the water becomes. Your ears pop at the depth. As the murky water settles, you realize that the red that illuminates is a crack in the earth’s surface. Vines encase its edges.

Breaking through it, air hits your body as you fall to the ground. Your back scrapes against the rough ground beneath you, leaving you gasping for breath. You barely have time to gather your bearings before you hear Steve’s pained screams.

You stumble onto your feet, desperately searching for him.

What you find is Steve’s body on the ground, vines choking him as he writhes in agony, demonic bats gorging on his stomach.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #HAPPY ONE YEAR !!!!#WHAT A WILD JOURNEY LMAO

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augustweary · 1 year ago

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Bonus hugs that I missed the first time.

The triple hug appreciation post!

A hug between two characters is amazing, but a hug between three is spectacular.

#I need steve nancy and robin to be involved in this #i wouldn't be mad if the epilogue of the show was just ten minutes of group hugs #dustin henderson #el hopper #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #joyce byers #will byers #max mayfield #stranger things

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

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I do not have time to write this, but I really need to write it down.

All the events of Stranger things happen as normal - one crucial difference, Eddie gets involved, but not in the same way. He's an innocent by stander who never made friends with the kids. He's a vague background character to the action. He's an extra on set, effectively, and when he drops out of school and leaves town abruptly, someone might notice, but no one really questions it.

Years later, the only thing that feels real about the whole thing are the scars Steve still carries on his body. Sometimes, sometimes, he has to call Robin, just to check it was all real. That he hasn't lost his mind. He still flinches when a light flickers, to this day his ears ring for hours after a loud noise. He has headaches.

The only people he can talk to about it are Robin and the kids; but he feels bad. The kids aren't kids anymore, and they all seem to have just...gotten on with their lives. Seemed to have grown and evolved past it all, even though Steve regularly still wakes in the night, sweating and fighting with his bed covers. He doesn't put that on them, he sounds happy on the phone, and he is, loves hearing about their lives, their relationships, their plans and their own kids.

Robin has a girlfriend, she's happy and settled. Steve's the only one who seems...stuck. Like he cant move past it. He bums around. Stays with Nancy for a while, then Robin. Visits Argyle, makes loose acquaintances and sofa surfs. Drifts, aimlessly, through life.

It's about time in his cycle to visit Robin, but the relationship is serious this time and she nags him to find his own place to stay near by - loosing patience with him when he fails to be motivated and finding it for him herself. It's tiny, the kind of place where the bed is also the couch and the TV rests on a short run of kitchen counter because there's no where else. Feels okay though.

Steve gets a job. Spends a day on foot, door to door, walking through town; lands in a record shop of all places, even though CD's have now well and truly taken hold and vinyl isn't much of a thing. It's dark inside, the walls painted black, the bare brick red. A couple of people browse through, but Steve heads right for the counter.

There's some screamo rock stuff playing that Steve doesn't recognize, but it's quiet, so it's okay.

Behind the counter, someone Steve half recognizes from another life. Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. What are the odds.

Eddie isn't who Steve remembers. He's angry now. Bitter. Has a horrible scar that creeps up his neck and onto his face, pulling the corner of his lip down. Steve does his best to ignore it. Begs for work.

Eddie employs him, but only because he thinks it's fucking funny how far the king has fallen. Now the king works for the jester.

Steve does his best at the shop. Cleans a lot. Gets on well with the customers, charms plenty of sales.

Eddie walks with a cane and seems to hate everyone and everything; but nothing so much as a cold morning. Seems to be in more pain than usual.

Steve wants to ask, Eddie tells him it was an animal attack. In 86.

Steve's seen some of the scars by now, caught glimpses of how bad Eddie was hurt; helped Eddie even when Eddie was spitting angry about accepting any help.

What the fuck kind of animal could do that much damage in Hawkins?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

And Steve puts it together then, instantly and viscerally realizes in his bones what must have happened. No one ever believed Eddie. Why would they? How could anyone think that monsters coming out of the walls, out of the floors, out of glowing red portals could be the truth?

And Steve says, did it's face peel apart like a flower?

And then he tells Eddie. He tells Eddie everything. He shows Eddie his own scars. Tells him about every monster they ever come across. It was one of the demo dogs. Like Dart. Steve knew it must have been, but Eddie confirms with a description.

And then Eddie cries, because he finally has a explanation. He's not crazy. For the first time in his life, someone believes him.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eventual steddie #ficlet #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my writing #fic idea

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

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Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.

A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.

“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.

“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”

“I promise?”

“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”

Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...

“Munson?”

“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”

“Yeah, sure.”

She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.

His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.

"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"

"Questions?"

"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.

Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.

"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"

"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"

"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."

"Date of birth?"

"April 29th, 1967."

"Do you know what todays date is?"

"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"

"Almost three weeks, yes."

"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"

She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.

"The year?"

"Uh... 1983?"

She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.

He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.

"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."

"Wait! What- am I ok?"

"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."

Amnesia, his doctor explains.

Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.

But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.

The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.

"We're... close?" He asks her.

"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."

"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."

"How could I not? You're hilarious!"

"What? We never-"

"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."

"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"

"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."

Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.

"Steve!" He yells.

The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.

"Uh, hi?"

"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"

"He is right here, you know."

"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.

"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.

"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"

"Tell us about... what?"

He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"

"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"

"So you... don't remember me."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine," he lies.

Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.

"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"

"Which room?"

"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"

"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.

Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.

"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."

"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.

"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."

"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"

Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."

"What? It's been years!"

"It's not that simple."

"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"

"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."

"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"

"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."

Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.

"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"

He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.

"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"

Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."

"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."

"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"

"Hey-"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic with a capital p #steddie fic #ficlet #hurtcomfort

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moonpascaltoo · 8 months ago

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steve harrington

MASTERLIST • STRANGER THINGS • 07/23/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

one three

𑣲 his good luck charm I @bimbobaggins69

king!steve getting a little frisky before the basketball game because he swears you’re his good luck charm

𑣲 friends with benefits I @forever-rogue

𑣲 dirty dancing I @nexusnyx

When Steve went to the address for investigating purposes, the last thing on his mind was stumbling upon one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen. It happens, though, and he convinces himself that meeting you was only a thing of the moment, until he encounters you outside the cinema a week later, crying. He does something about it.

𑣲 power trip I @silkscream

you and steve settle your differences when he drives you home

𑣲 fast times at family video I @thursdaygxrls

steve’s great a flirting. that is, until robin gets involved.

𑣲 crushes, chaos, confessions I @quin-ns

dustin knows how steve feels about you and he can’t stop himself from spilling his best friend’s biggest secret to you.

𑣲 henderson!reader I @familyvideostevie

𑣲 favour for a favour I @yellowharrington

steve has a big ol' crush on the girl that trades him pastries for movies every week.

𑣲 whole I @freelancearsonist

𑣲 sincerely, yours I @superblysubpar

a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places

𑣲 paralyzed I @murdockparker

She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

𑣲 that guy I @appocalipse

After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…

𑣲 romance is dead, isn't it I @megxplryxb

𑣲 pretty girl part 2 I @hellfireclubmember

Dustin can't stop talking about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas, making Steve want to smash his head into a wall. That is, of course, until he sees you.

𑣲 baby, no attachment part 2 I @calumfmu

the 5 times Steve Harrington was an asshole to you, with the 1 time, he revealed his true self.

𑣲 the kings reign I @/calumfmu

King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.

𑣲 tell me that i'm all you want I @judeswhore

everyone in hawkins knows about steve harrington’s somewhat infamous past and with your relationship being new and a little devil on your shoulder you start to worry if you’re simply just his next play thing

𑣲 blurb I @/judeswhore

𑣲 out of your league I @/judeswhore

steve’s friends refuse to believe his secret girlfriend is the pretty girl from the bakery and are more than a little surprised when you actually show up.

𑣲 fall into pieces I @taintedcigs

steve comes in his pants from eating you out. that's the plot.

𑣲 it just takes a kiss I @strangerstilinski

based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

𑣲 handle with care I @thecreelhouse

Eddie and Robin think Steve needs to get out more, but he ends up in what he believes to be the wrong place at the wrong time, until he meets you.

𑣲 jealousy, jealousy I @s-brant

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

𑣲 bags I @goldustwomun

you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

𑣲 grand gesture I @loove-persevering

reader is seeing how close Nancy and Steve are and the looks they give. When the Reader goes to Eddie Steve gets confused and a little jealous because he actually has feelings for her.

𑣲 moral of the story I @refiwrites

Steve was still in love with Nancy, it was clear as day.

𑣲 for a good time call! I @chestharrington

In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

𑣲 6 times Steve was pining I @fandomtravels

𑣲 you keep me hanging on part 2 I @once-upon-an-imagine

𑣲 icarus and the sun I @justburningdaylight

Reader’s in love with her best friend. Considering she can’t tell him about this particular secret, she instead entrusts it to her diary, neglecting to remember Steve’s old habit of reading said diary.

𑣲 sober thoughts I @munsster

If drunk words are sober thoughts, Steve sure is talkative when he’s had a few.

𑣲 need your lips on mine I @lonelysatellites

Steve Harrington will hook up with you. So why won’t he kiss you?

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst #steve harrington masterlist #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic rec #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

Note

Eddie Munson. Love. Established relationship

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞��𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

“I cannot believe them.” Steve huffed out, hands resting on his hips as his foot tapped against the asphalt outside of the police station.

“You already said that,” Jonathan blanched, leaning back against the hood of his car while Argyle closely examined his own hands for whatever reason.

“Well, I can’t!” He snapped again and Eddie smirked, thoroughly amused with the situation. And worried.

He was also very worried.

Half an hour ago, he’d been in the trailer, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot when the phone rang.

It was Hopper. Specifically, Chief Hopper. As in, on duty, Chief Hopper. Eddie had immediately jumped into a monologue about how he hadn’t done anything and even if he did, Hopper had no proof of it but Hopper wasn’t calling to tell Eddie he had six cop cars in route.

He was calling to tell Eddie to come pick up his girlfriend, who had gotten into a bar brawl.

He’d raced the fuck over and was surprised to see the other guys pull up as well, though he probably shouldn’t have given the fact you’d gone out with Robin, Nancy and Eden.

What the fuck kind of trouble could that roster have gotten into???

Enough to warrant being taken to the police station.

Hopper had informed him you’d all be getting warnings, leeway you all got most definitely just because he was now Jonathan’s stepdad.

“It can’t have been that bad,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve froze in his irritable mom-pose and slowly turned to face him.

“Can’t have been that bad—WE’RE AT THE POLICE STATION!”

“Would you rather it be a courtroom?” Eddie asked, cocking an eyebrow. He pitied Buckley for the scolding she’d no doubt get from Steve on their drive home.

“I’d rather not have to pick her up from anywhere other than her house or work!”

“Calm down, Mother Hen. It was probably nothing,”

It was definitely something.

The doors to the station opened, Nancy was the first out with Robin trailing her, you following Robin and Eden on your heels.

You all looked like you had definitely been involved in a fight, clothes rumpled and torn, hair a mess and Nancy sported a bloody lower lip. She started crying the moment she was in Jonathan’s arms, but he didn’t think it was because of her lip or even the fight, Nancy was just a very emotional drunk and her staggering was an obvious sign of intoxication.

You skipped right over to him and Eddie knew you were drunk, too.

“Hi, baby! I missed ya!” You sang as you slipped your arms around his waist to press yourself up against him for a hug, side of your face resting against his chest.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders, gently trying to pry you away from him so he could look you over for injuries but you refused to release your hold. The most he could do was get you to crane back a little so you could look at him.

“Neva’ betta’. Why?” You asked, cocking your head and beaming up at him.

Eddie’s face broke out into a grin.

“Because a little birdy told me you were in a scrap.”

You were about to reply before the sound of Steve and Robin arguing with each other distracted you and you turned your head to watch them.

Eddie had to physically turn it back, and he was laughing as he did.

“C’mon, buttercup, I need you to stay with me, yeah?”

He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dipping his head to the side to catch your stare and you went back to beaming at him, eyes crinkled.

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Fuck, you were so cute.

“That’s not really what I meant, baby, but I had no plans on letting you go. What happened tonight?”

You scoffed, arms dropping to your sides as you took a couple of steps back and glared at nothing.

“You wouldn’t freakin’ believe it, babe! Me and my girls,” You gestured to Nancy who was being coddled by Jonathan, Robin who was now scolding Steve, and Eden who was high-fiving Argyle, “were out having fun, getting sloshed—I had so many midori sours, baby, so many and my throw up is gonna be green—when alluvasudden Carol fuckin’ Perkins and her group of raggedy bitches comes up to us.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. He knew just how much you despised Carol. You two hadn’t been exactly friendly back in high school.

“And I’m like ‘oh wow, Carol, I was actually hoping to never fucking see you again.’ But she wasn’t there for me, babe. She was there ‘cause of Robin.” You leaned in to whisper the last sentence to him.

“I din’t even fuckin’ know it—but I should’ve ‘cause like the resemblance is there, isn’t it? Like they look kind of like each other, you know?”

“No, baby. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Eddie was thoroughly invested in the drama, shifting his position to lean up against the van.

“Oh, yeah!” You laughed, amused that you knew and he didn’t. “Carol is Vickie’s cousin.”

Eddie’s eyes widened comically, sending you into a fit of giggles.

Vickie was Robin’s ex….something. Towards the end of senior year, Vickie had broken up with her long time boyfriend. On the rebound, looking for some attention to prove she was still wanted as most do after a breakup, she’d entertained Robin’s infatuation with her.

They were always together, never affectionate in public, for obvious reasons, though Robin implied they were something. Then, it stopped. Vickie and her boyfriend got back together and she never even gave Robin proper closure, just stopped talking to her, stopped taking her phone calls and obviously avoided her.

It had been an unfortunate situation, the entire group pulled together to cheer Robin up but she got over it, met another girl, and they were an official couple. Girlfriend and girlfriend. She was away for a family thing and Robin couldn’t get the time off, which is why the girls had all gone out for a night to distract her.

“Carol is Vickie’s cousin!?” He whispered back in disbelief, hand flying over his mouth.

“Yeah!”

“So where does the fighting come in—is that blood?!” Eddie nearly had a heart attack as he noticed the red splatter on the front of your shirt. He hadn’t seen it earlier because you’d been glued to him.

You glanced down, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands to flare it out so you could see it better, “Oh, yeah! ‘S not mine, though. ‘S Carol’s. She told Robin people like her weren’t allowed in the bar, so I punched her a couple times and her friends started fighting us but we kicked their asses, baby!”

Eddie stared at you, eyes clouded with adoration and awe.

You’d been dating for a while now, and every single damn day Eddie thought he found another thing he loved about you. Every. Single. Day.

And right then, in that moment, Eddie was finally able to express what he’d been thinking, feeling for the last couple of months. It wasn’t really the things you did that he loved about you. Eddie just loved you.

He needed you to know.

“I am so in love with you,” He breathed out, hands reaching out to latch onto your waist and draw you back into him.

He was about to go on his spew about how you didn’t have to say it back and he just wanted you to know but you caught him by surprise, took the breath right out of him.

“I love you, too, Eds. Can we go home now? I’m hungry.”

Eddie blinked, knees weak.

“Baby, I don’t think you know what I’m sayi—“

“You said you love me and I love you, too. I’m drunk, baby, I can still hear you.” You sagged into him, head craned up to give him those eyes of yours.

“You love me?” He whispered, hand moving to tenderly cup the back of your head.

“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning up on your toes as Eddie met you halfway in a passionate kiss. He was about to tease your mouth open with his tongue when Hopper pushed his way out of the station.

“HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! GO HOME!”

Eddie laughed against your mouth as you pouted before he pulled away and ushered you into the van. Once you were buckled, he headed around to the driver’s side and took note of how meek Steve looked as he got into the driver’s seat of his own car. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think it was Steve who got into trouble with the law, and Robin picking him up from the station.

Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and Eden were long gone.

You were fiddling with the radio when he hopped in.

“It’s not working,” you frowned, continuing to press buttons.

“Sweetheart, the car’s not on.”

“Oh.”

Eddie loved you so much.

#vivi's baby blurbs #this was a little longer than a baby one but it was so fun to write #eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson fanfic

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werepuppy-steve · 1 year ago

Text

Between discovering the Russian bunker under Starcourt, discovering their plans to get into the Upside Down, being caught by said Russians and tortured, after making sure Dustin and Erica got out of there, Steve was confident that this was an isolated incident.

Hopper had assured them that El had closed the gate at Hawkins Lab, saw it with his own eyes. So maybe if they (he, Robin, Dustin, and Erica) dealt with this one on their own, it wouldn’t be so bad. There were no monsters this time, at least.

Steve had naive hope that the others wouldn’t have to get involved.

But as the four of them are chased through the mall by a big guy with a gun, Steve and Robin still coming down from a truth serum high, his hope turns into dread.

Because a show car is suddenly flung from the floor and into the group of Russians that have them cornered behind a counter in the food court, and there’s only one person he knows with the ability to do that.

They all slowly peer over the counter, and sure enough, El is standing at the forefront, her hand extended in front of her and her nose bleeding. The other kids plus Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie are with her. Steve’s stomach drops and the nauseating feeling from earlier is back, but it’s not from the drugs this time.

Eddie makes a beeline toward him and Robin while Dustin greets the others with enthusiasm, Erica a little starstruck over El.

“What the hell happened?” Eddie demands, eyes flitting frantically all over Steve’s face and taking in the worst of the damage. Steve knows he must look like shit– he can’t see that great out of his left eye and that whole side of his face has gone numb.

Billy bashing his face in last year has nothing on the pain he’s feeling now.

“It’s a long story,” Steve says as he leans heavily into Eddie’s space. Eddie’s hands land on his shoulders and he holds him gently, like he’s afraid of hurting him even more. “I’ll tell you after this is all over.”

“Steve–”

“Teddy.” Steve pulls back and looks him in the eye, as well as he can. He must have not puked everything out of his system like Robin thought because he still feels a little giddy when he reaches up and taps Eddie on the nose. “Later. I promise.”

There’s really no time to say anything else because Robin and Erica need to be brought up to speed about everything and he and Dustin need to be caught up on what’s happening now, and when they are, Steve desperately wishes that it was just the Russians they had to deal with.

Help comes in the form of Hopper, Ms. Byers, and a balding man that Steve’s never met. While they’re all squabbling and trying to come up with a half baked plan, Eddie finds a first aid kit in one of the kitchens and makes Steve sit on a counter so he can try to patch him up. They don’t speak, but Steve grips Eddie’s unoccupied hand while Eddie stands close between his legs.

There isn’t much time between then and everybody splitting off into groups. Scoops Troop plus Eddie all pile into the TODFTHR (“You sure you’re her daddy, sweetheart?” Eddie teases with a smirk and Steve’s glad the bruising hides his blush.)

Everything gets a little fuzzy after they leave the kids at Weathertop. When he’s asked later, he’ll say he remembers hearing that song from that one movie, but he’s not sure if it actually happened. He’s so hyped up on adrenaline, it’s probably the only thing keeping him conscious.

Steve doesn’t remember making the decision to t-bone Billy’s car, but he does remember the horrific scene inside the mall; the Mindflayer screeching and its tentacle-like appendages swinging this way and that. He remembers pelting it with explosives to distract it from attacking El. He looks down and his stomach lurches when he sees the monster go straight through Billy’s chest.

He hears Eddie let out a strangled curse beside him and Steve has to ignore the bile rising in his throat. He knows there’s been casualties; Barb in ‘83, Ms. Byers’ boyfriend last year, however many people the Mindflayer had killed this year.

This is the first death he’s ever seen in person.

He’s still reeling from it when Owens and the military swarm the building once the monster is finally defeated. They’re all pulled in separate directions for medical attention and questioning. Steve feels downright miserable, sitting in the back of an ambulance with Robin, a shock blanket over his shoulders. He squeezes her hand and gives her a small smile.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” he says.

Robin takes a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it. I think for once in my life, I’m speechless.”

Eddie finds them after he’s been looked over and Steve opens his arms to pull him in for a hug, wrapping both of them in the blanket. Eddie presses a kiss to his forehead and Steve sags against him. They take a moment to breathe each other in, basking in the fact that they’re both alive.

“They want to take us to the hospital,” Steve says. “They’re pretty sure I have a concussion but they want to run tests to make sure there isn’t any other damage.” He nods to Robin. “And they wanna keep us under 24 hour observation 'cause of the drugs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, eyes sliding shut.

Steve frowns and uses the corner of the blanket to brush against Eddie’s cheek comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a grimace. “This probably wasn’t how you were expecting to spend your birthday.”

Eddie turns his head and kisses his fingers. “No, baby,” he says. “Absolutely nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Had me and Wayne worried sick when you didn’t come home last night, though. I was close to callin’ Hopper when Lucas started screaming code red over the radio.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about how that probably worried them even more. “Your present’s in my car,” he says instead. “You can’t have it until I’m discharged, though. I wanna see your face when you open it.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “That just makes me even more curious, sweetheart.”

He pinches Steve’s side playfully, but gently. Steve stifles a giggle and leans into him more, very aware of how Robin’s watching them like a hawk.

“No peeking,” Steve warns, pointing a finger in Eddie’s face. “It’s a surprise.”

Eddie only nips at his finger. Steve doesn’t even blink. Sighing, Eddie releases his finger and marks a cross over his heart. “I promise I won’t do any snooping.”

Steve pats his cheek. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a shit liar, Munson?”

They break into giggles, their heads bent forward, and Eddie would’ve leaned in for a kiss if it weren’t for Robin clearing her throat rather loudly. Steve curls into Eddie’s front, Eddie’s arm going around his shoulders. God, he’d give anything to be at home and asleep in their bed.

“I’m still very confused about this whole thing,” Robin says, waving a hand in their direction. “I just fought a monster from a whole other dimension, but this is probably the biggest shocker of my life.”

“Strange things follow this group around like a shadow,” Eddie says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. And for him, it is. “You better get used to it, Buckley, 'cause you’re one of us now.”

written and originally posted for @flowercrowngods birthday 🤍 dio is an absolute treasure and a great friend to have and is my #1 gseb stan. happy belated birthday!!! 💙

🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee?

#cj talks #gseb #steddie #steddie ficlet #dio 🤍#steddie fic #cj writes

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FOURTEEN

in which eddie finally offers you an honesty hour. which is great, until you learn you've bit off more than you're capable of chewing. (oh, and we find out more of what happened at steve's infamous party)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 5k+

→ a/n: there is still one more bit of the memory left for steve's party!! i broke it into three bits because otherwise it would be too long as one giant clump lol. sorry this is being posted so late... but hey! it's here! see y'all again thursday lol thank you to everyone for continuing to be so kind about this story and show it so much love

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

14:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

It’s Eddie. You only know because when Nancy opens the door, she greets him loudly, letting her drunken squeal echo down the hallway and into the kitchen.

“Munson! Finally!” her voice carries, and you fight the urge to try and move to peek through the doorway to see him, “Took you long enough!”

Eddie's voice is too quiet for you to hear his reply. He’s not drunk, not fueled by reckless decisions and overflowing affections like most of the other friends were already.

There’s a terrible twisting in your gut at his arrival, and you know it shows across your face when Robin looks at you apologetically. As if for a moment, they had forgotten they way you and Eddie avoided each other. As if for a moment, they had all pretended that the entire group could convene and it could be easy, and that was on them instead of you or Eddie. But it wasn’t on them. That blame could never fall on them.

It was on Eddie, you decided. He was the one who more ardently avoided you rather than vice versa. He was the one with a sharper tongue between the two of you, always snappy, always irritated with you. It was on Eddie. It should be on Eddie.

Except, you still felt bad about the Chrissy ordeal. He may have acted as if he disliked you for no reason before, but now he was hating you with reason. You can’t blame him; you’d do the same thing. If he ruined a date like that, stomped all over possible potential and threw it away without even considering your feelings involved, you’d be out for blood.

You sort of needed to apologize, and needed to apologize soon.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle calls out from the couch. It captures your attention just in time to look over and watch as Eddie enters the room, his back facing you, his shoulders slack beneath his leather jacket.

He’s relaxed. You’re immediately sure that he doesn’t know you’re here yet.

“Hey, man,” he greets with a gravelly voice, an edge of fatigue to it you’re familiar with. It’s the kind of tiredness that follows long weeks, as you two had spoken about that first night. For a second, you wonder if he’s still having those. And if he is, how often they happen, if he ever comes home from them and thinks about that night, if he has anyone to call when it’s late and they haunt him.

You know you don’t. Neither Steve nor Robin are ever awake that late, or at least don’t answer the phone at that time of day, and you don’t feel close enough with the rest of the group to burden them like that.

There had been a time where you would wonder if Eddie could have become that person, if the type of conversation you two had at the bar the first night could ever translate over phone lines. But that time had been early on, and was long dead. It laid in an unmarked grave with all your other ponderings of what a friendship with Eddie might look like.

“We can keep you two apart,” Robin whispers, or at least tries to whisper. She’s loud, “He said he had work and wouldn’t make it. We… We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”

Oh.

Oh, what a knock to your pride. Robin means nothing harmful of the words, they should be neutral and just an explanation offered to you. But your mind takes them in its grasp and runs, runs, runs.

“We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”

You’re the backup plan. You see it now, and it sucks, but you press your lips into a cellophane smile that Robin can’t see through in her flurry to distract you with an offering of you two plus Steve having another round of drinks. You decide to take a straight shot of the nearest bottle of vodka, swallowing it down to drown your already sinking heart. You fake laugh when Steve tells bad jokes, you make up lies about your dates of the last few weeks, deciding you no longer care if you add in more details to look less pathetic.

You’re the backup plan. So you’re sure they won’t notice when you spin a new version of yourself.

This version of you that spews from your lips has gotten lucky more times in the last month than you have in the last year. This version of you is always the one having the last say in conversations, the one leaving men on read rather than the tables being flipped as they were in reality.

Robin says nothing, even when she notices some of the things you say not aligning with what you’d told her earlier that week. She only side-eyes you as Steve drinks in every detail, only disrupting to suggest another shot.

At some point, she gets too drunk to side-eye you.

“Fuck,” Steve sighs, throwing his head back as he glances out to his living room, where Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie have taken to sitting in an oblong circle around on his and Robin’s furniture, “I need some fresh air. Anyone else?”

“Me,” Robin responds so quickly, you would have made fun of her if you didn’t notice the sickly shade of green creeping up on her.

Steve looks at you, raising an eyebrow, but you only shake your head. It makes the room threaten to spin. Maybe, just maybe, you should have slowed your roll with the vodka shots. Maybe.

“I’ll stay in here, hold down the fort,” you promise, letting your eyes fall shut before you inhale deeply through your nose, exhaling softly through parted lips.

No way. You hadn’t drunk nearly enough tonight to excuse getting sick as Robin was seemingly about to.

Robin and Steve leave you be as you compose yourself. You think you hear them extend the offer to everyone in the living room, but you can’t make out who agrees to go and who stays. But as you listen to all the footsteps making their way out the front door, Steve calling out that they’d be back soon, you start to become convinced you’ll open your eyes to an empty apartment.

You open them to an empty kitchen. So far, so good.

But then a voice clears their throat from the living room, just as you pull your phone out of your pocket. You open it to find the cursed dating app still open, your messages with the bartender still staring you back in your face. The bartender you thought you’d hit it off with. The bartender that had stood you up the night before.

Fuck him, you think bitterly as you turn to find Eddie entering the kitchen. Because of course, given your luck, Eddie was the only one who stayed back.

“Those apps fucking suck,” Eddie notes, using the neck of his beer bottle to gesture in the general direction of your phone.

You look between him and the lit up screen for a moment, finding half the mind to click out of the private messages, “You’ve used them in the past?”

“Nope.”

You wait for a second, giving him the chance to elaborate. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, he’s Eddie. If he explained himself to you, that would just be too easy.

“Okay,” you sigh, squinting at the page and past the vodka, trying to fumble your way back onto the screen that would show you eligible bachelors in your area, letting you swipe and judge them by solely looks as if they weren’t actual people on the other side of the phone. As if they weren’t more than a reservoir of attention at your fingertips.

Maybe that had been your mistake with the bartender – you let him become a real person to you.

“Why are you even still on them? I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.”

It’s something in the way he says it. One moment, you’re looking down, ignoring him. The next, you can’t help but lift your head in shock. The words all felt sharpened and poised for a kill, ready for an attack you hadn’t expected so early on in the night.

“I-” you don’t know how to defend yourself. You don’t know whether to stick by the lies you’ve told tonight, or to be concerned with who was telling Eddie about your love life, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.”

Eddie grins and leans on a counter across from you, “You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the body count you’ve got there, player.”

You’re drunk. You tell yourself that’s why you take his words straight to heart – you’re drunk, and therefore, you’re sensitive.

“You’re bluffing,” you snap, “You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying,” you spit finally, crossing your arms defensively. Your emotions were rising too high, too quickly, and you blame the vodka. You blame the vodka and you blame the drink Steve had made you. You blame the bartender who stood you up. And most importantly, you blame Eddie.

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, as if he expects you to shrink in cowardice when he stands up straight and takes several steps across the kitchen to be closer to you, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up. Everyone strikes ou-”

“I’m pathetic?” you scoff and interrupt him, not even paying any attention to where he was going. The tips of your ears are starting to flame with a red tinge, “Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.”

“I did!”

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.”

He freezes up entirely, grin faltering before your eyes, “How do you know that?”

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” you roll your eyes at the cracks in his composure, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” Eddie grumbles, reserving himself back to his side of the kitchen. If someone came in and squinted closely, they’d find that imaginary boundary between the two of you, an invisible line that would not be crossed. Not here, not tonight. You wouldn’t touch Eddie Munson with a twelve-foot pole if you could help it.

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.”

You can see his agitation spreading like wildfire across his face, in the tick of his jaw and the twitch of his eyes. You can practically see the words that linger on his tongue as he bites down on it – it is your fault.

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice goes monotonous as he crosses his arms, and the muscles strain against his shirt. His leather jacket has long been discarded, probably thrown over the back of the couch or a chair in the living room.

You mirror him, crossing your arms, letting the screen of your phone press into your side, “I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment,” his eyebrows furrow and you consider the consequences of chucking your phone at him.

Your irritation, your own agitation, is all bubbling beneath your skin. If it wasn’t for the vodka mingling with it, you would have been squirming from the discomfort. Usually, he doesn’t get to you. Normally, his off-handed comments come with a sting that can quickly fade.

None of the jabs are fading tonight. They only seem to linger. Because he’s right, and you hate that he’s right.

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going?” you uncross your arms, waving your hands wildly into the empty air between you and Eddie, “We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?”

Eddie swallows hard, and you can watch the words wash over him, but you’re unsure of which of your drunken slurs specifically got to him. You weren’t wrong in any of your statements, you weren’t outlandish in either of your guesses. But your words have frozen him up all the same and you aren’t sure why.

“You’re right,” when he physically melts, the deathly chill remains in his voice, “We aren’t friends. But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?”

It’s in the way he says it, confirms it.

We aren’t friends.

He hisses it out as if it were a painful reminder, as if saying those words burn him eternally. He says them as if they are capable of sending ice through his veins and bones alike.

You know why he froze now, and it’s too late.

“Well-” you pause, unsure of how exactly to respond. You’ll be having a talk with Robin, surely. But technically, Nancy was your friend, right? Surely, she was allowed to know the drama of your love life, wasn’t she? “You say that as if Nancy and I aren't friends.”

“Are you?” he tilts his head tauntingly, as if he knows something you don’t.

“We… are.”

He catches the hesitation; he runs with it. He finds the handle of the knife you’d tried to keep so hidden, and he twists as hard as he can.

“Would Nancy agree if we asked her?” he hums, as if he were seriously contemplating this, as if it were a mediocre debate rather than a question of if you had friends or not, “Do you even have her on Instagram?”

“You, her supposed best friend, don’t have her on Instagram.”

“Because I don’t have Instagram, full stop.”

“Instagram isn’t the normal gauge of friendship,” you defend yourself, “Some people can have thousands of followers and no friends.”

You don’t have Nancy on Instagram. You don’t follow her, she doesn’t follow you. The most she’s acknowledged your presence on the app was tagging you in a photo on a night out once.

“It’s not about follower count,” Eddie shrugs, “It’s about mutual followings. That’s how Hollywood dictates whether celebrity couples are still together these days, yeah? If they follow each other. If you’re friends, you’d follow each other.”

The vodka makes you bold. Bold enough to mutter out, “Oh, fuck you,” in response to Eddie’s prodding.

“Wait, I-” you watch an unfamiliar emotion pass over Eddie’s face, something kin to regret. But his words are already out in the air, he’s already twisted the knife in your gut fully. He’s already spilled your blood in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, with no one around to witness it. He did it for himself – he did it for his own pleasure, his own enjoyment.

He enjoys hurting you.

“Save it,” you mutter, slowly deflating as you turn your back to him, facing the counter to grab your drink to nurse your wounds.

If you looked close enough in the corner of the room, you would have seen the shovel you should have used to bury away your hope of a friendship with Eddie. You should have piled the dirt over the casket, should have put 6 feet of soil and earth and worms between you and that fruitless yearning.

But you didn’t. He hadn’t taken it quite far enough yet.

Yet.

But then he had to cross that invisible barrier. He just had to walk across the kitchen, come up behind you, and not mind his own business. He just had to look over your shoulder just as you opened the bartender’s profile again, if for nothing else than to further hurt yourself for the night.

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

—

HOUR FOURTEEN - 5:00 AM

You don’t bother with putting pants back on, only Eddie’s sweatshirt. At this point, pants were just beginning to feel like a nuisance when it came to the two of you. A nicetie, as one might put it.

What were the points of niceties with him if he could never hate you?

You have the entire five minutes he spends in the bathroom to try and compose yourself. To try and desperately ruminate through these feelings and detach them from everything that was transpiring. The emotions didn’t belong here, there weren’t twists of guilt and sorrow of loss involved for Eddie when he was fucking you.

So why is that all you could feel right now?

He could never hate you, but he had spent the last year doing exactly that, hadn’t he?

“Hey,” he reappears in the entryway of the kitchen with the worst possible timing, right in the eye of the storm that had begun to cloud over your mind. He holds up a pack of cigarettes you can only assume he’d snagged from his room, “I’m, uh- I was gonna grab a smoke out on the balcony. Join me?”

There’s something of desperation in the way he asks you. All the words are casual, but his tone is an undermining plea; please say yes, please join me, please let me in. He knows something’s wrong, and he’s not just turning a blind eye and ignoring it this time.

You stare at the pack of Marlboro Reds for a few seconds before shrugging, “Sure.”

It’s certainly not as enthusiastic as you’re sure he was hoping for, but he smiles at the small victory nonetheless.

The first thing you notice about his balcony, aside from the clustered furniture, is the view. You’ve never thought your city to be very charming, always looking at it from a pedestrian’s view or through the lens of a tired, crabby college student embarking on another late night. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d step foot on a higher floor of a building like Eddie’s, one just tall enough to see over the rooftops of most of the mundane buildings, one that could peer right over the skyline and show a new dawn breaking. It’s a flourish of pink, orange, and violet, each shade stealing away another breath. The sun is just barely yawning over the horizon, just finally awakening.

God, you’re going to regret not actually sleeping during this time.

“What’s got you scowling?” Eddie mumbles the question out around a cigarette, pausing with his lighter in midair.

You turn your head, and- just like that, all the anger and confusion melts away. He’s painted in the same shades of the sunrise, in a golden light that almost seems to be emitted from him rather than the waking sun. He is all soft edges and tired eye bags, a stubble that you can imagine the itch of against your palm if you were to reach out a hand to hold his face. If you were to kiss him right now, you fear he might dissolve all over your tongue, leaving nothing but his sweetness behind to remind you it was all real.

It’s real. Even if it doesn’t make sense with what you guys projected before tonight, even if it doesn’t align with how your lives will continue on, tonight was real. You were here, he was here, and what happened…. Simply happened.

I could never hate you.

You get it now. Because in this lighting, with a soft breeze tugging your hair and mind alike, you know you feel the same way about him. And you know it contradicts all you have shown him in the past.

You could never hate him. He could never hate you. It’s unfortunate that that’s what you’d been calling it before tonight – hate.

“It’s going to really suck,” you breathe out half a sentence. Two endings before you: letting this night go or, “Not sleeping for a full twenty four hours.”

You don’t know how he does it, how he looks at you like he knows you had something else to say. But he gives you those eyes, and they almost elicit the truth from you.

Almost.

He throws his head back in laughter, and the pinks and purples and all the fights wasted are now trailing down his neck, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

He’s much better at pretending than you are. You know that now.

“Seriously,” you turn and walk to the railing, crossing your arms against the metal grate before he joins you at your side, “I’ll probably ditch my classes on Monday. I’ll have to sleep twenty four hours straight to even the score.”

“God, I wish I could fuck off for Monday,” Eddie groans. He’s throwing his head back again, and you can’t help but wish you could replace the golden rays with your lips. You wish your warmth could sink beneath his skin like the sun’s does.

“You can’t?” your voice cracks with the question as he finally lights the cigarette between his lips.

He takes a long drag, shaking his head with the exhale of smoke, “Nope. I work Mondays at the shop.”

“The shop?”

“Myo’s,” the way his lips curl around the filter of his cigarette as he fights his grin burns a hole in the middle of your chest. Burning and erupting, yearning and longing, ignored and buried, “The auto shop on Main street.”

You know by the way he looks at you that the name should ring a bell, but considering you don’t own a car, you don’t have the slightest clue what his job is, “Oh, so you’re a mechanic?”

“I- Yeah,” he nods slowly, “Yeah, I’m a mechanic,” he pauses and you can see that he has more to say, it just takes him a moment. He looks off the balcony, shifts his weight between his two feet, takes another drag of nicotine. When he finally gathers his thoughts, you’re patient and waiting, biting back a small smile the moment he whips his face towards you, “Have we seriously never talked about that before? I swear I’ve told you I’m a mechanic.”

“Nope, seriously. Never.”

“There’s no fuckin’ way.”

“There absolutely is a way,” you laugh, letting your head fall backwards and not catching the way his gaze falls on you. The sunrise paints you in just as beautiful of a lighting as it had him. If someone asked you, you’d say that you doubt he noticed, but he did. He noticed. He always noticed, “Usually, by now, we’d be at each other’s throats.”

“We sort of were,” he shrugs, eyes still glued to how your collarbone peaks out from beneath his sweatshirt, “Surprised we didn’t leave more hickies.”

The topic you’d been avoiding. The topic he seemed indifferent about.

I could never hate you.

You decide to put his words to the test.

“Are we going to talk about it?” you ask, looking down now and picking at flakes along the metal railing, still not noticing him noticing you, “About…. what we just did?”

“Are you always this straight to the point?” he chuckles nervously. In your peripherals, you catch the way he leans and mirrors you, side by side on the railing. His light cigarette hung loosely between indifferent fingers. Indifference, indifference, indifference.

If you’d just look at him, you’d see anything but indifference written across his face.

“Only when it matters,” you reply, breathing in his secondhand smoke, “Only when it’s important.”

His pinky is within reach of yours once more, just like at the parking garage. Even after feeling the entire expanse of his bare skin against yours, you still crave more – you crave for the intimacy that comes from hooking pinkies as grown adults, from knuckles curling into each other like hinges of a door of possibility.

You don’t see the way he swallows hard, or how he nods subtly to himself before he says, “Alright. Let’s talk about it.”

Those words make you look at him quickly, taken back and not expecting for him to give so easily. If you had noticed him noticing you, it would have been the expected reaction; if you’d seen the way his eyes traced over the pink and orange shadows of your features, you’d know he can’t really say no to you. Not anymore.

“Yeah?” you only ask for the confirmation because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He won’t let it. He holds it tightly, just nodding, “Yeah. I… You deserve my honesty.”

You deserve my honesty.

I could never hate you.

“I’m starting to get a bad feeling of deja vu, Eddie. We don’t have to do honesty if you don’t want to-”

“Ask me anything. Right here, right now. I’ll answer with the full truth.”

You flashback to hours before, when he’d offered his honesty this willingly and you’d only thrown it back in his face. But right now isn’t that moment, the two of you aren’t in the heat of an argument, there isn’t an impending doom on the horizon and the weight of the night no longer rests on either of your shoulders.

You don’t care as much about why he hates you now, or what he meant by never hating you to begin with. You don’t care much about the porn magazines and you don’t care what changed that first night.

They’re all petty details that have had too long to gather dust.

You do care about his job, you do care to know why he chose to fix cars. You do care about if he still takes night classes, and if yes, which ones. You care to know his favorite color and you care to know how he takes his coffee in the morning. Maybe you even care to know if he has a favorite coffee shop.

You care to know all the new petty details you’d never uncovered about him. Miniscule bits and pieces of him you crave to hold in your hands, if only just for tonight- or today, at this point.

But you need a baseline question. Something that won’t throw him off, but really doesn’t twist around your heart as severely as the others. Something that does neither damage nor nurture to the vines and blooms still occupying your chest.

You suddenly remember a small detail that had been revealed to you by a third party tonight, “Okay, um, well…” you ponder on phrasing, and Eddie edges ever so closer to you, “At that bar we went to tonight, the bartender – Frank – mentioned how you’d been going there for about six months.”

Eddie pales, but he nods nonetheless. Maybe the question is more loaded than you’d anticipated.

“I guess... I…” you continue to stumble over your words and it only leaves Eddie more time to panic, “I’m just curious why you started going? Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s my question,” you tilt your chin up, try to be seem more confident in your question.

Even in his panic and sudden blanching, Eddie looks ready to laugh at you as his eyebrows scrunch. Somewhere between the wrinkles, you swear you could find something like affection, “That’s your question? Why did I start going to a bar that’s conveniently close to my apartment?”

Maybe it is a good baseline question. Maybe he was just nervous from the other possible questions you could have asked about your time spent together at the bar.

“That’s my question,” you confirm.

The color isn’t returning to Eddie. His hand shakes when he brings his cigarette to his lips. His breath is evidently shaky on the exhale as the smoke puffs out unevenly.

It’s not a good baseline question.

“I…” he won’t meet your gaze, and all your gut can do is twist, twist, twist in anticipation, “I got kicked out of my last bar I was a regular at.”

“Got kicked out? Why?”

It’s ripping the bandaid off the wound of honesty, and neither of you even realize it. Neither of you notice the blood of your history catching up to you.

Eddie sighs and rolls his shoulders before looking at you, “I got into a fight.”

Your twisted gut stills. A fight? Why is he freaking out so evidently over a fight? Does he think you’ll judge him that harshly?

“A fight?” you echo your thoughts with a soft laugh into the morning air, “You… Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? Jesus, did you go to jail that night? That would suck, but… Eddie, I won’t judg-”

“I didn’t go to jail,” he interrupts, “I mean, they should have called the cops on me, but they didn’t. They gave me a second option of leaving immediately, and being banned for life, effective the moment I stepped out of the building that night. I took the ban.”

“Well,” you relax your shoulders, looking over at the rising sun, “That’s nice of them, I guess, right? I’m sure whatever mean drunk swung their fist at you deserved to get their ass handed to them-”

Eddie interrupts you with a soft utterance of your name, making you look back to his hues of gold instead of the sky’s, “I swung first.”

Oh. Maybe that’s why he still looks so wrecked with nerves. Maybe he thinks that’s the piece you’ll judge him on – it has to be the reason you can see sweat gathering along his eyebrow, just beneath his bangs. “Then I’m sure whoever it was deserved it? I-”

“He did,” he interrupts one final time. You’re about to finally snap at you, telling him to just let you speak, to just accept that you weren’t going to judge him over some bar brawl, when he drops the final bomb of an answer. Here is the honesty, you both realize at the same time, as his words slice through you, “It was about you. I got banned because of you.”

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #gotta blast off to the gym now lol

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