#Stranger things fic

[justmeinadaze]

Reflection (Eddie X Y/N)

A/N: This idea came to mind after thinking about a conversation I had last night with a friend. (Yeah let's not talk about it.)

Enjoy <3

Warnings: Rockstar Eddie & Fem Y/N, daddy kink (cause im me), phone sex, LOTS of dirty talk, established relationship, fluff

Word Count: 1242

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.”, you giggle as he grins at the sound.

“I always forget how much I miss your laugh till I haven’t heard it in almost three days.”, the rockstar sighs into the phone receiver. “I wish I could see your face.”

“I know, baby. Did they say when you guys would be headed home?”

“Naw. All I know is this week we’re doing another photo op and some event thing I know absolutely nothing about. I don’t fucking get why we ALL have to be there.”

“I mean its Corroded Coffin attending not just, you know, Jeff and some friends.” Eddie exhales again as his thumb gently caress the picture of you two he keeps in his wallet. “What are you thinking about, honey?”

“I’m thinkin’…about how much I miss you…and how nice it would be to fall asleep with you in my arms. I’m thinkin’…about when I took on our date to the Starcourt mall and how fucking beautiful you looked in that black dress with your red converse.”

“You loved ‘em. Look I don’t own nice shoes! Not at that time anyway.”, you laugh, getting more comfortable on your bed that seemed way too big when the metalhead wasn’t there. “We went to the photobooth outside the movie theater and took those goofy pictures.”

Eddie beamed as he took in each little square of the photos with you two smiling like dorks. The last few frames were his favorite especially the last one where your hands were cupping his cheeks as his forehead leaned against yours. After the flash went off, he kissed you, knowing in that moment that you were the girl he was going to marry one day. 

Tilting his head back against the headboard of the hotel bed, his eyes met his own reflection as he smirked at the mirrors above him. 

“You know being on the road has given me some interesting ideas for our bedroom.”

“Oh yeah? Deviant ideas or decorating ideas?”

“Both.”, he chuckles. “My hotel room here on the strip has mirrors above the bed.”

“Oh my god, Eddie.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. I can see you from every angle especially when you’re riding me.”

“Eddie…”, you slightly pant his name and his smile grows as he watches himself reach into his sweatpants and pull out his half hard cock. “I…don’t know how to…we’ve never…”

“I like when you get all shy and innocent.”, he teases making your face warm. Listening to him spit on the other end has your pussy clenching and you allow your own hand to roam as it slides under the waistband of your panties. “Just talk to me, baby. That’s all you have to do until I can come home and Daddy can take care of his pretty girl properly.”

When you giggle, he pictures you doing it; your face ducking down trying to hide from his eyeline.

“Come on, princess. Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I always wear one of your shirts when you aren’t here. It smells like you, Daddy.”

“Aw, baby. I always have my pictures of us. I bring them everywhere with me so I can see your face. Do you, uh, are you wearing any panties or a bra?”

“No bra…just my panties. The little red ones you like.”

“With the rose on the band?” A mixture of a pant and a laugh escape his lips when you confirm. “Fuck, I love pulling those down with my teeth.”

Eddie hears you giggle but it sounds muffled, telling him you’re biting your bottom lip which drives him crazy at the sight. Even just imagining it has his cock stiffening more in his grasp and he utilizes the little beads of precum to lubricate himself more. 

“W-What are you wearing, Daddy?”

“My, uh—fuck—my black sweatpants and some boxers. I pushed them down enough so I can…you know.”

“No, baby, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”, you tease. 

“There’s my girl. My little sarcastic pain in my ass.”, he laughs as you do the same.

“You love me.”

“Always. Fuck…I’m pumping my dick with my fist. Are you touching yourself, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m—mmph—rubbing my clit…wishing it was your tongue.”

“Shit—good girl. C-Can you imagine if we had these mirrors, baby? Y-You could watch me suck and fuck you with my tongue while my fingers spread you open.”

“Fuck, Daddy.”

“God, Y/N, you’re making me so hard. Put a couple of your fingers inside that tight little pussy for Daddy, baby.”, Eddie mewls as he thrusts his hips subtly against his fist. 

He hears your whimpers on the other end and his eyes roll back.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”

“Feels…feels good, Daddy. I’m so wet. I-I’m picturing watching you on top of me…if we h-had those mirrors—fuck—seeing my legs wrapped around you as you fuck me into the mattress.”

“Just like that, Y/N. Mmph—keep going.”

“Oh my God… seeing your ass as you pound into me…O-Or when you put my leg over your shoulder…I can watch your big cock disappear inside of me…Daaaddy.”

You could hear the light smacking sound of his fist as he picked up his pace and his head flew back as his eyes squeezed shut listening to you struggle to catch your breath. 

“Beg me to cum, baby. Beg Daddy to cum.”

“P-Please, Daddy. I need you to cum for me.”

“W-Where do you want it, sweetheart.”

“Ah…in…inside my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Oh, f-fuck.”

Eddie grunted as he curled into his body, his release erupting and hitting his hand as he pictured himself filling you up. At the sound, your heavy pants filled his ear, listening to you whine as the coil snapped. 

“Oh my God.”

“Y-You ok, beautiful?”

“Yeah…did, um, did I do good?”

“You did better than good, Y/N. Fuck, that was amazing. Who knew you had such a dirty mouth.”

You laughed at his joke as you listened to his voice strain knowing he was reaching for a towel to clean himself with.

“You know what another benefit of those mirrors would be?”

“What, baby?”

“Afterward, when I hold you, I can finally get a good look of your entire face especially when your head is on my chest.”

“Eddie.”, you coo his name and again, he chuckles as he places the picture of you two back in his wallet pausing at the little blue box he had placed near it after coming back to the hotel that afternoon. 

“I, um, I think I’m coming home a bit early.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything.”

Nerves radiate through him as he balances the box on his fingers before flipping it open to display the modest little diamond engagement ring inside. 

“Naw, sweetheart, I won’t get in trouble and even if I do fuck them. You’re more important to me than anything else. Plus, I, uh, got you something I really want to give you.”

“Eddie, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know I didn’t HAVE to. I wanted to. I’ve actually been looking for this particular thing for a while.”

“Edward Munson, if it’s mirrors, I swear to God…”

Eddie cackles as he closed the box and set it back next to his wallet. 

“Pfft, after what I just heard, I’ll bet you ten bulks you’ll already have them installed before I get home.”

#############

Eddie Masterlist

[the-witty-pen-name]

When he realizes he's in love with you...

(Stranger Things Edition)

A/N: thank you @punkrockmlchael for bouncing ideas back and forth with me for this one! you are the best <3 please follow roz if you don't already she's the best

Warnings: substance use (smoking weed); fluff

Characters: Steve, Eddie, Gareth, Jonathan, Argyle & Billy

Steve: It's a really simple moment. You're with everyone just gathered at Steve's house for a movie night. Steve is sharing the couch with you, and he'd been doing a good job of ignoring that fact until your head rests on his shoulder with a gentle thud. You fell asleep and you curl up by his side. He's terrified to move, not wanting to disturb and risk ending this moment. He tries to remain completely still, except when he lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulder- of course you sleep through it. Having you so close to him, knowing you feel safe and comfortable enough around him to fall asleep- he's a goner.

Eddie: You match his energy, and you aren't afraid to argue with him. Heated debates about literally anything- usually something pointless. You don't stand down either, no matter how ridiculous it gets. He even just likes to get you riled up so he can get a reaction out of you- he loved seeing you so fired up. One night, the movie you both watching is paused because Eddie made a bogus claim the actor was in another movie- he wasn't. You're arguing, talking with your hands frantically to prove your point and you don't even catch on that he's stopped caring and he's just watching you with a smirk on his lips. He just loved you so much.

Gareth: You'd been dating for a couple of months. After dinner together, you end up walking into the record store. You're in the next row across from him- just mindlessly looking through the selection. He watches your eyes light up when you find a record you already own, but love- just happy to stumble across it out and about. It makes his heart skip, and he realizes that he wants you to share things you love with him all the time- for the rest of his life.

Jonathan: When you aren't paying attention, Jonathan loves to take candid photos of you. There's a time you're both at Lover's Lake and you're skipping rocks. Looking at you through his camera, it kind of just hits him all at once. You look over and smile for the photo and it's his favorite photo he's ever taken. After that, you can tell something changed between the two of you. He finally confesses his feelings after months of pining and you start dating immediately afterwards.

Argyle: You're sitting with him in the back of the delivery van after your shift. There's already a large cloud of smoke that has engulfed the two of you. Through the haze that has pleasantly taken over his brain, he watches you- your skillful hands rolling another joint for the two of you to share. His mouth hangs open slightly watching as you bring it to your lips, your mouth opening just enough to poke your tongue out so you can seal it. It's probably the hottest thing he's ever seen and he immediately just falls for you in that moment.

Billy: You're laying on your stomach on his unmade bed. You're flipping through one of your notebooks, trying to study. He's laying on his side, kissing your shoulder and rubbing your back- wanting your attention and pouting he needs to compete with your homework. He observes you read behind those beautiful lashes of his, and he loves the way you face looks when you're concentrating and focused. Despite that, he still wants to toss the book on the floor and kiss you stupid, but he'll wait because he knows it's important to you to do well on this test. His resolve doesn't last long, but he does try to be good- because he loves you.

TAGLIST: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington @mrsjellymunson @fanficfantik @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @supersecretsamm

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Girl and Her Boys

Platonic Stobin + Eddie || wc: 2.3k || rating: G || tags: platonic love, platonic fic, platonic stobie (steddin?), tooth-rotting fluff, humor || Robin's worried the boys have some shenanigans planned for her Spring Band Concert... and she's right

~~~

If Eddie Munson had just watched Steve’s basketball game like a normal person, instead of a nonconformist lunatic, everything would’ve been just fine. Robin really should’ve known better, shouldn’t have been surprised when he showed up carrying a giant sign with Steve’s name and player number on it that read ‘best ball shooter’ with a little devil on it. 

Whenever Steve had the ball, Eddie screamed louder than the most obnoxious dads. At some point, the man pulled a damn kazoo out of his pocket along with those stupid, plastic hand clappers to celebrate Steve’s first three-pointer. 

Everyone was staring, the boys on the bench turning to sneer at him. She could feel the people around them slowly scooching away and her face burned with embarrassment. Finally, after two rounds of the Star Spangled Banner via kazoo, she turned to beg him to sit down only to then catch Steve wave out of the corner of her eye. 

She could see the blush across his face, not from exertion, but from a smile so wide that it glistened in his eyes. Eddie waved, face on fire. Robin gave him a scathing side eye when he’d turned to her and said “What, I just wanted him to notice me,” with a mischievous glint to his smile.

Robin had assumed Steve would be the bigger person and move on. He never said anything after the game, only smiling ear to ear like a puppy dog after doing a particularly impressive trick. However, she greatly underestimated her soulmate’s ability to be an absolute shit head.

Which is how a typically casual Friday night at the Hideout for Eddie’s gig turned out to be exceptionally uncasual and supremely atypical. 

She was clad in head-to-toe pastels. Nancy hadn’t agreed to come to the show, but she allowed Robin to rummage through her closet, fully on board with her and Steve’s shenanigans. Robin had picked out a pair of white heels, lavender stockings, a frilly, pink dress, and– her piece de resistance– a white cowboy hat. 

Steve’s outfit was made up of his own clothes, just taken to new heights. He wore not one, but two polo shirts, the white collar underneath popped up over his pale pink polo on the outside. His acid washed jeans looked tighter than normal, and he’d paired them with shiny, white, Adidas high-tops. Robin had laughed as she dug through his glove box on the ride over, pulling out her favorite electric blue sunglasses for him to wear. They tied the entire outfit together.

Steve had suggested making signs, “In case he can’t hear us when he’s on stage,” and definitely not as payback. All in all, they were pretty impressive. Each one dripped glitter over the sticky bar floor, although the pink puff-paint held together nicely. Robin was particularly proud of her own sign, ‘rock and roll is for sinners and winners’. She was, however, surprised when she read Steve’s ‘I’ve got the devil in me’ sign. They’d made a bit of a spectacle of themselves, waving them high above their heads as they screamed along to the few lyrics they actually knew.

The band razzed Eddie about it, but none of it mattered in the long run. Robin remembers the embarrassed flush scrawled across Eddie’s face when he caught sight of them. He’d strutted across the stage, trying to move as far from them as possible. Much like the small crowd of confused regulars creating a wide, empty space around them. In the end, Eddie always came back, smile wide and genuine and full of love.

So here Robin sits, stewing with anxiety while trying to think of what they’ve got planned now that it’s her turn. She fiddles with the trumpet in her lap as she waits for the Spring Band and Orchestra Concert to start. Her black slacks from last year are uncomfortably tight around her hips, and the white blouse her mom picked out keeps snagging on the back of the too small plastic chair she’s perched on. The garbled mess of voices ringing through the gymnasium matches the zinging swarm of bees in her stomach.

She frantically scans the crowd in front of her, but doesn’t spot them anywhere. Robin’s parents and grandparents are going to be here and she knows the boys will have something obnoxious planned. They’ve been suspiciously nonchalant all week, almost sickeningly nice.

But when the freshman band starts playing, she still can’t find them, surprised they’re not sitting up front. She tries to look around but can’t find them in the crowd. Disappointed, she starts to wonder if they actually forgot. Robin did her best to bring up the concert as little as possible, not wanting to give them time to plan anything extravagant. She wonders now if that was a mistake.

When it’s finally time for the upperclassmen’s turn, she’s forced to give up her search. She plays her melodies, counts her bars, and tries to forget about how her boys aren’t here, knowing there must be a hell of a reason to miss it. 

The brass section dwindles down to the woodwinds. The notes fade out completely, leaving a one beat pause before the flutes are supposed to take off in a frenzy. Robin hates playing songs like this. It feels like a cheap trick, some kind of gimmick her music teacher comes up with to see if he can pull one over on unsuspecting families who think the song has finished. 

It works, like it always does. Soft, scattered applause breaks out in the crowd. Her teacher’s smug smile is wiped from his face as loud, obnoxious clapping echoes off the gymnasium walls. The kids are failing to contain faint giggles and snorts of laughter. Even though this happens almost every year, it’s definitely never this damn dramatic.

Robin sits up just a little bit higher to peek over the winds section and, sure enough, in the dead center of the crowd, there’s a head of frizzy, curly hair standing tall and proud. Aside from the outburst, Robin’s actually impressed Eddie managed to dress up a bit. He’s wearing what has to be one of Steve’s navy button down shirts along with his nicest pair of black skinny jeans, sans rips and holes.

Apparently being in a band doesn’t translate to understanding when a song is actually over. He glances around, red bursting over his cheeks as everyone stares back at him. Robin has to stand slightly to catch a glimpse of Steve sitting next to him. Her best friend is slowly sinking down into his chair in a fruitless attempt to hide. He’s wearing a light blue button up, most likely with his beige slacks. Steve’s flush is somehow an even brighter shade of red than Eddie’s. He’s hiding an awkward laugh behind his fist, and Robin can’t help but smile wide and unguarded at the mirth shining in his eyes. 

These two absolute idiots.

Eddie opens his mouth, but thankfully whatever he’s about to say is cut short by Steve grabbing a hold of his shirt sleeve and yanking him back down into his seat. Robin manages to catch Steve’s eye, and he breaks out into a stupid, adorable puppy-dog grin. He does his signature little finger wave. She snorts, matching his gesture.

Eddie leans in front of Steve’s face to look at her between rows of heads and waves manically back and forth. Robin’s fully laughing now as she waves back. There’s an elbow in her side and before she can snarl at the guy next to her, he nods towards where the conductor stands glaring at her, hands hanging in the air waiting to continue the piece. 

The flutes start up, but it’s still a few bars before her first note. So of course her eyes stray to the clarinets. Vickie’s already looking at her, smiling small but genuine. Beautiful and divine. Vickie rolls her eyes fondly and Robin only replies with a half-hearted shrug. 

The boys manage to make it through the rest of the concert without causing another scene. The conductor prompts the band to rise for a bow, and polite applause breaks out throughout the crowd once more. That’s when she hears it– hell, everyone in the school probably hears it. 

Eddie and Steve wolf whistle at the same time. It’s followed by an eruption of plastic clapper applause and shouts of ‘Go, Buck!’ and ‘Hell yeah that’s my Birdie!’ Robin can’t contain the bubbles of happiness bursting in her chest, leaving her light as air. 

She looks out and sees Steve holding another homemade sign covered in glitter that reads ‘Buckley blows the best horn’. Just as Eddie explodes a confetti popper– what Robin assumes is the first of many he has stashed in his pockets– the principal appears out of thin air to scruff them both by the neck and drag them out into the hallway. She can’t read his lips from this far away, but she can see Eddie yapping away, completely unbothered. 

Fuck, Robin truly loves these boys. Her goons, her dinguses, her schmucks.

The band leaves through the side door, heading straight to the music room to store their instruments before meeting their loved ones in the cafeteria. 

“Hey,” Vickie says, out of breath from jogging to catch up, “you did a really good job.” Robin doesn’t think Vickie could specifically pick her out from the rest of trumpets–at least hopefully not– but she takes the compliment anyway. 

“Thanks,” she shouts, a little too excited. And in typical Robin fashion, has zero follow up comments. So they walk down the hall together in silence, students around them buzzing with excitement. 

Vickie clears her throat, and bumps her shoulder against Robin’s. “It’s really nice your boyfriend came to watch you play.” Vickie sighs, deflating, “Wish mine had, anyways.” 

Robin doesn’t even process Vickie’s second statement before screeching, “I’m not dating Eddie Munson! We’re just friends.” 

“Oh,” Vickie smiles, emerald eyes wide and beautiful at Robin’s little outburst, “I guess I meant Steve Harrington. Everyone knows you’re dating. And, I mean, I see you two together in the morning sometimes– not that I’m stalking you or anything,” but her adorable stumbling doesn’t matter in the face of Robin’s blatant disgust. 

“Ugh gross absolutely not, he’s like my brother. My dingus, my very platonic soulmate. Like a long-lost twin separated at birth kind of thing, but also way more annoying.” 

“Oh good,” Vickie answers. Her eyes grow large, mouth falling open in shock as she stutters, “I’m sorry, I mean… It's not good. But it’s not, not good. You know?” 

Robin actually doesn’t know, so she just smiles, bumping shoulders again because the spot where their shoulders touched before is still tingling and she wants more. Vickie relaxes next to her. They’re quiet after that, but it’s a good quiet, filled with stolen glances and hidden smiles. It’s not until they’re both headed back towards the cafeteria when Robin finally realizes what Vickie said. 

“I’m sorry your boyfriend couldn’t make it,” Robin placates, hopefully drawing up enough of a fake smile to make it seem real. She does feel bad for Vickie, but she’s not sad about it. 

Vickie pulls her lips between her teeth into a thin, angry line. She groans in annoyance, and it’s the most Robin’s ever seen her complain, almost always a bubbly ray of sunshine. It reminds her of when Steve gets bitchy, and she love it. “He could’ve made it if he actually wanted to be here,” she huffs. “Apparently going to a party with his friends is a better way to spend his Saturday night.” 

Robin’s eyebrows are raised when Vickie turns to look at her, causing her to scoff out a laugh. “I know, I shouldn’t complain,” Vickie says, obviously not meaning a single word, “but the person you’re dating is supposed to watch your crappy, high school band concert, right?” 

Person. 

Vickie didn’t say boyfriend, she said ‘person’ you’re dating. It probably doesn’t mean anything… definitely, for sure doesn’t. It still doesn’t stop Robin from blushing like one of the hundreds of women Steve hits on every day at work. Fuck, she’s no better than one of Harrington’s bimbos. 

“They should definitely be here.” Robin smiles at her sympathetically, and Vickie thanks her before they walk into the noisy cafeteria. “I’ll see you Monday?” Vickie asks, heading off to visit her family. Robin nods, feeling the dark blush blossom on her cheeks as Vickie smiles, eyes shining with delight.

Robin finally spots her own family, and it’s standard procedure. Congratulations from her parents, telling her ‘Nice job’ and ‘You all sounded so good’ but it’s the comment from her grandmother, whispered in her ear in a tight hug, which catches her off guard.

“Your boy’s waiting for you,” she nods over Robin’s shoulder. She turns to find Steve grinning his dopey I love you smile at her. It’s her favorite, something special just for her. Lost in her soulmate’s gaze, her grandma gives Robin a soft elbow to the stomach to grab her attention. “I think you found yourself a good one.”

And honestly, Robin can’t find it in herself to spout her usual arguments of ‘he’s not my boy,’ because Steve is hers. He’ll always be hers just like she’ll always be his. They still love each other, still plan to spend the rest of their lives together. It’s just not the kind of love most people expect. 

It’s a kind of love that’s theirs, and theirs alone. 

Well, and Eddie’s too, of course.

Robin smiles back at her grandmother, a wet sheen to her eyes. “Yeah, I really did, didn’t I?”

[lanalosty0uu]

⋆.˚ chapter iv: take on me ᝰ.ᐟ

previously on: 🕰️ BACK TO THE FUTURE 🕰️

"Don't worry," he says with an easy confidence. "We'll figure this out. But first, let's make sure you don't look like you're from outer space."

⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗

main masterlist!

pairing: steve harrington x fem! reader

⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗ ⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗ ⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊

The next morning, Steve takes you to Melvald’s General Store, their first stop on your journey to adapt to 1985. The whole vibe of the store amazes you, it was all retro-y, filled with posters and neon lights all over, just like what you’ve always imagined.

“You’re gonna drool over if you kept your mouth open.” You didn’t realize that you’ve been keeping your mouth open in awe at the store.

You can tell Robin and Dustin was looking at you weirdly, knowing that this is just some regular clothing store. But not for you. For you, there is nothing more magical than being in an 80s clothing store, filled with retro and disco like clothes hanging all over.

The jingling of the old-fashioned cash register catches you off-guard, and she marvels at the analog setup. There was even no card scanner! Or a QR code for cashless payment.

Steve raises an eyebrow, clearly amused when you slightly walked over to the cash register. “Welcome to the world of cold, hard cash,” he teases, handing her a few bills for small essentials.

From there, they head to another local thrift store, where Robin joins them, ready to make an event of it. The air is filled with the scent of worn leather and old fabric as Robin rummages through the racks, dramatically holding up an oversized blazer with shoulder pads. “Future girl, this screams power suit,” she jokes, earning a giggle from you.

Even Steve and Dustin helped to find you a nice pair of clothing for you to wear today, and at least a few days to come since they know it won’t be easy to fix that watch.

After much trial and error, some of it clearly for Robin’s amusement, you settle on high-waisted jeans, a striped crop top, and a denim jacket. Steve insists on adding a pair of white sneakers to complete the look.

“You’re officially a Hawkins local,” he declares with a grin as you twirl in front of the mirror, amazed of yourself. Sure, in 2025 people still dress like this. But this… All this felt so different for you. The whole vibe, the people, everything just felt like what you’ve always dreamed of.

˗ˏˋ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹₊ ⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆.˚ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ˎˊ˗

“Okay, so… since you’re from the future, I’m guessing you already know stuff that happened in the 80s, correct?” Dustin asked. We were just chatting on the backseat of Steve’s car, whilst Steve was driving to to the arcade, Robin sitting on the seat next to Steve. Dustin requested to take you to the arcade, wanting to show you the amazing stuff that happens on the 80a.

“Like… what, exactly?”

“Music! You know what I mean?”

“Like… Madonna and shit? Blondie? The Runaways?”

“Yeah, yeah! Like that!” Dustin was amazed when you said all those famous names.

“I’ve listened those on Spotify, kid. So… I’m not that stupid for a person who’s a maniac about the 80s.”

He looked at me confused when you said ‘Spotify’, as if asking for explanation about it without telling you.

“It’s like a music platform, you know? In this.” You showed my phone to him, unlocking it, and opened Spotify. You began searching for my downloaded playlists since you got no internet service here and played Take On Me by a-ha.

“Whoa…” Dustin let out an amused laugh. You even caught Robin’s attention. “I thought you said that’s a phone?”

“Yeah, it is! Except it’s not just for calling, and sending messages. You can listen to songs, watch movies, call people and see them through the phone, read books and magazines online, and many more!”

Your explanation about your phone caught all their attentions, including Steve, while you remind him to keep his eyes on the road.

“You’ve played Pac-Man?!” Dustin exclaimed. You tried to explain to him that you also played it on your phone.

“Oh you’ll never beat Steve. See that? That’s the highest score. And who does that belong to? Steve Harrington.”

“Oh, so the sailor likes to play Pac-Man…” You teased Steve who just entered the arcade after parking his car.

“Well, good luck on trying to beat that, future girl.” Steve challenged you, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Might as well let me try to beat your ass, Harrington.” You pulled up your jacket sleeves and began playing Pac-Man, just like what you always knew. You have to make Pac-Man eat up all the yellow stuff and make sure not to get caught by the ghosts.

On the first try, your Pac-Man was cornered by the ghosts already, and the screen immediately flashes GAME OVER.

Steve smirks. "Not as easy as it looks, huh?"

"Let me try again!" you insist, and to Steve's surprise, she improves quickly.

By your third try, you beats his high score, and the group gathers around, cheering her on.

"Looks like the newbie's got skills," Dustin says, impressed.

“Fun fact, there will be a Pac-Man movie in 2015. It’ll be called ‘Pixels’.” You said, smirking at Steve who seemed to be annoyed.

Steve, pretending to be annoyed, mutters, "Beginner's luck." But there's a glint of pride in his eyes as he watches your grin in triumph.

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As the night falls, the rink lights dim slightly as the disco ball spins, casting a cascade of shimmering lights across the floor. Dustin and Robin let Steve be your guide for tonight in the skating rink, since Steve is such a good skater deep down. Meanwhile, you and Steve sit side by side on the edge of the rink after their dramatic fall, catching their breath between fits of laughter.

The faint buzz of 80s pop hits fills the air, but you are hyper-aware of Steve’s shoulder brushing against hers and the way his smile lingers as he glances her way.

“You okay there, klutz?” he asks, nudging her lightly.

“Oh, I’m the klutz?” you retort, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who dragged me into that spin of death.”

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, you almost nailed it. I’d give it a solid six out of ten.”

“Wow, generous,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.

Steve leans back on his elbows, looking out at the rink. “You’re actually not bad, though. For someone who didn’t even know how to skate, you’ve got potential.”

You tilt your head, watching him curiously. “Well that’s encouraging.” You gave him a sarcastic look.

You’re about to press him further when he stands up, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans.

“Come on,” he says, holding out a hand. “We’ve got time for one last lap before they kick us out.” You hesitate, staring at his outstretched hand. Your eyes moved to his, watching those brown eyes carefully. There’s something in his eyes, a warmth, a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. Slowly, you place your hand in his, and he pulls you to your feet, steadying you when you wobble.

Both of you step back onto the rink, and this time, you feel a little steadier. Steve skates alongside yourself, pacing slow but steady as the music shifts to a softer, dreamier track. The glow of the disco ball reflects in his eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the rink seems to blur away, it was like you’re the only ones left in that rink.

“You know,” you say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “I never really had nights like this. Back home, I mean.”

Steve glances at you, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

You shrug, looking down at your purple skates. “I was always so focused on everything… school, responsibilities, the future. I never let myself just… be a teenager. Not to mention the strict parents.” You sighed, looking at his eyes. “It’s not as fun to live in the future like they said.”

He nods, a knowing look crossing his face. “Yeah, I get that. I used to be so caught up in trying to impress people, be the king of Hawkins High or whatever. But looking back? None of that stuff really mattered. This…” He gestures around them, his gaze landing back on you. “this is the kind of stuff that sticks. The moments you don’t plan.”

His words hang in the air, and you feel a pang of something you can’t quite name. Nostalgia for a time you only just started experiencing, maybe, or the bittersweet knowledge that moments like this are fleeting.

“I think you’re right,” you admits, your voice soft.

You skate in silence for a while, the music wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper playing vividly. You find yourself stealing glances at Steve, noticing the way his jaw clenches in concentration as he avoids an oncoming skater or the faint curve of his smile when he catches you looking.

At one point, Steve slows to a stop in the middle of the rink and turns to face you. “Alright, future girl. Let’s try one more spin.”

You groan at his request. “You’re relentless.”

“Come on, it’s your redemption arc,” he teases, his grin widening.

With a sigh, you let him take your hands, and attempt another spin. This time, it’s less of a disaster, though you still stumble into him at the end, your hands clutching his jacket for balance.

“See?” he says, his voice low. “Told you you’d get it.”

Your faces are close now, closer than you’ve been all night. You can feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air between them. Your heart pound in your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to look away.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the music.

“For what?” Steve asks, his expression softening.

“For this. For making me feel like I belong here,” you said.

He smiles, a genuine, almost shy smile that catches you off guard. “You do belong here. More than you think.”

The moment stretches out, the world around them fading into the background. You aren’t sure what’s supposed to come next, but you knows one thing.

For the first time since you arrived in 1985, you don’t feel like a stranger.

note: another chapter, yay! you really can see what i meant by the next chapters will be interesting, yeah? so happy i can finally finish this chapter ^^ hope u guys enjoyed it and stay tuned for the next ones <3

taglist: @xprloki @pupwrites @gorlillaglue25 @lovestrucklyuniverse @keerysfolklore @www-interludeshadow-com @pleasantsoulcolor @mochminnie @steviespookie @damon-loves-pie @imjustdreamingig @starkleila @2602moon @negomi123 @currentresidentinhell @ucannotcompare @lilgreensunshine

if there's anyone who wants to be tag as well, feel free to ask <3

[amorchai]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇. ─ e.m

────────────

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this is a repost from my old account. original post was 446 notes.

pairing(s): eddie munson x reader

summary: you and eddie leave hawkin’s behind.

word count: 1000

warnings/tags: an au where eddie survives and his name is cleared, established relationship.

────────────

eddie was clear. the town was bare and defeated, a broken mess with a small population of the citizens remaining to build it back together since the ‘earthquake’ had passed and left behind a tragedy. vecna was finally gone and eddie was able to clear his name. after all the fleeing and hiding from not only cops but angry citizens, and finding out about the upside down, you believed eddie would be able to finally sit down, stop running and rest.

but it was eddie munson. and eddie isn’t one to chill out for too long. or at all for that matter.

one moment you’re walking out the police station, hand intertwined with eddie’s while hopper protectively walks by his side after the successful attempts to prove eddie’s innocence true. the next moment you’re helping eddie pack his things.

he was quick and messy, as always, merely shoving clothes he didn’t care to glance at into the case, lighters and cds following before precious details along his trailer room. eddie’s guitar is last to swing over his shoulder before he nods to the door where you both then leave through.

you left him to say goodbye to his uncle privately, giving him a warm smile when he returns to his truck driver seat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, excited smile. eddie was suddenly driving you to yours, willing you to grab your belongings and say your goodbyes so you both could, ‘get the hell outta here’ as eddie kept expressing.

from leaving the police station, not even an hour later you were on the road, no plan on driving to god-knows-where, just the two of you spontaneously travelling in hopes of a worthwhile fresh start.

eddie has one hand on the wheel and the other sat upon your thigh comfortingly, your eyes fall upon the ‘leaving hawkins’ sign fleeting past eddie’s side of the window and he scoffs, “come again soon, yeah like hell.”

you watch his happy smile, matching it with your own when you laugh softly, hand landing atop his to squeeze it affectionately, in this together. eddie tears his glance from the road and to send you a quick wink, the life-threatening confessions and dreams shared quietly when your lives were on the line of a long-winded battle were coming true and you found it difficult to fully process.

“did you pack your d and d stuff?” you ask him, breaking the comfortable silence as he weaves through an array of winding roads leading out the town, the rock music he had chosen with the sound low had his fingers tapping your leg in a beat.

eddie smirks, “right at the top of the case, honey. expecting those little suckers to visit me for more campaigning.” his tone is still playful and light and you’ve missed not hearing hesitation or worry whenever he speaks, giving you a sense of solace knowing he’s finally more calm.

sure, it will take a while for him to recover, slowly but surely his nightmares and concerns will seize and become controlled but you were more than willing to aid him through it. you both have trauma from the upside down world haunting hawkin’s but fleeing the town to be a team, a couple of young adults excited for a spontaneous life ahead of them, you knew you and eddie will be okay.

your boyfriend’s fingers fumble so his hand is now encasing yours, his metal-clad thumb flicking the back of your hand softly while his hand atop the steering wheel now taps along to the new song, him humming alongside it. you couldn’t tear your arms away from him, a sense of peace filling your senses, in a state to feel safe you thought you’d never be able to find again.

“so,” eddie starts, glancing at you with a smile while squeezing your hand, “what’s on the agenda for these next few hours? besides staring at my face the whole trip, of course.” his grin turns smug, lines curving around his lips as he turns with a glint in his eyes when you shake your head amusingly.

your fingers trace over the tattoos on his forearm as you pretend to think, “hmm, let’s see..” you lean across the console to press a quick but firm kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek which blushes from the contact, “kissing you is second.”

“oh yeah? okay, okay. that sounds great to me.” eddie says, trying to contain his wide grin. his face scrunches when you plant more kisses across his face which collects you both into laughter when you sit back in your seat, hands still intertwined on your lap.

“talking about the future is a third, i believe,” you continue and eddie nods, grin never fading, “always a favourite in my books.”

your eyes dance across his features for a moment more, taking in his peaceful nature and falling into a less playful state when you speak again, “eddie?”. his hand squeezes yours, his grin turning into a fond lip tug as he flicks his blinker on to turn a corner.

“yeah, doll?”

his gaze remains on the road as uses his open palm across the wheel to turn the car with ease and he almost misses how quietly you say, “i’m happy.” you watch as his expression turns, frowning emotionally at your comment and glancing in your direction when the truck is on a steady path. “yeah? you promise?”.

“i am. you make me very happy.” the words hit him hard and eddie brings your joined hands up to press tender kisses upon your skin gratefully while humming appreciatively from baring such feelings. the touches to your skin so soft and kind.

after a few beats of silence, eddie finds it in himself to reply, feeling more than ready and a clear mind of what’s to come.

“i love you, doll. you make me so happy and we will have a good life together. i’ll make sure of it.”

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amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[ao3feed-steve-eddie]

by Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated

“Thought you’d be out celebrating. What brings you to my neck of the woods, hm?”

Steve huffs and collapses onto the bench, tipping his head back to rest against the bend of Eddie’s knee, shoulder blade pressed against the solid warmth of his thigh. “The hell do I have to celebrate?”

Eddie shoots him a flat look. “Really? You’re asking the super senior what you should be celebrating with that in your hands?” He stretches his hand forward and Steve meets him halfway, handing over his diploma wordlessly.

Eddie hums, smoothing his hands over the leather casing, tracing the letters with his fingertips. “What’s freedom taste like, Harrington?” He wonders honestly, and it’s a real genuine question but it grates.

Steve grinds his teeth so hard his jaw aches and takes another pull from the bottle. The beer is lukewarm, cheap shit he’d never buy, but it’s refreshing in ways it shouldn’t be. Steve pretends that doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that it’s Eddie’s.

“Same shit it’s always tasted like.”

Words: 1802, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 16 of Stranger Things Drabbles, Part 2 of the king and the freak

Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Soft Eddie Munson, Hopeful Ending

[starshideurfics]

Off the Deep End - part three

part one - part two

steddie, omegaverse, scentmates, high school, poor parental communication

Steve and Eddie are allowed to stay out until 12:30 on New Year’s Eve—long enough to kiss at midnight, say their (Steve’s) goodbyes, and get home.

Eddie already has a decent number of buyers lined up, knows Steve will disappear with Nicole for five minutes when they arrive so they can say how pretty the other looks and get their beers together. It’s one of Steve’s little party rituals, and Eddie is grateful for it. He’ll be using that time to step into whoever’s dad’s study to hand out all his pre-sales.

He’s only got a bit left to sell after that—Rick didn’t have any extra for him—and Eddie goes to find Steve in the kitchen, grabbing his own beer and sliding an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. Then he lets his mind wander a bit as Steve talks about sports until someone turns up the music.

Steve drags him downstairs to dance, working himself up as he works up a sweat. Eddie can smell how needy he is, even over the crush of sweaty bodies and teenage pheromones in the stuffy basement. “You okay, Baby?” Eddie asks in his ear as “Come On Eileen��� plays over the speakers.

“Want you ta fuck me,” Steve pants back, pressing tight to Eddie’s body. “Feel empty.”

“Let’s fill you up.” Eddie nips at Steve’s ear and takes his hand, pulling him off to find an empty room.

It takes long enough that they end up upstairs in an en suite bathroom. Eddie locks the door behind them and tugs Steve’s jeans down to his ankles. He waits with his hands on the waistband of Steve’s panties. “Want my tongue or my cock, Stevie?”

“Wan’ yer knot,” Steve slurs, desperate.

“Can’t knot you here, Baby. You know that.” Eddie kisses his cheeks, apologizing with touch. “Probably should keep my cock in my pants.” Steve whines at that. “I know, Honey, I know. Not gonna leave you empty.”

Finally, he pulls down Steve’s panties and guides him to sit on the edge of the tub, kneeling between his spread legs. Eddie starts with his mouth, licking all over, and shoves two fingers into his fluttering hole. Making Steve come is easy for Eddie after all his practice, and he hums around Steve’s little cock as his pussy pulses around his fingers.

Eddie cleans them both up, getting Steve back into his jeans, and holds his cuddly, post-coital omega close.

They post up on a couch, Steve in Eddie’s lap, until Carol Perkins catches Eddie’s eye over Steve’s head.

“Baby, need you to scoot, I gotta piss.”

Steve’s arms wrap tighter around his neck. “Take me with you,” he whines.

“Can’t carry you. I need my hands.”

Steve pouts for a second, then gets distracted when he hears a loud giggle, followed by, “Jason, stop!” come from the kitchen. He goes to investigate, so protective of his fellow omegas, and Eddie’s of half a mind to follow him. But Steve’s able to handle himself, and the sooner he’s done with Perkins, the sooner he can get back to Steve.

But she tries to haggle, offers to let Eddie look at her boobs, “Since Harrington’s barely got any tits,” and before he can tell her to shove it she’s lifted her shirt, showing him pale breasts with puffy, pink areolae.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie panics at the hurt in Steve’s voice, tells Perkins that she and Hagen are cut off, and runs out of the tiny bathroom.

He finds Steve tugging on the door of the bedroom where they left their coats. Obviously, someone locked it to hook up in there and Eddie prays it isn’t on top of their stuff. “Baby, that wasn’t—”

“Don’t fucking ‘Baby’ me!” Steve cries, more hurt than angry. “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“I didn’t want her to do that!”

“Why not? Carol’s got nice tits.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I only like your tits, Steve. You have the best tits.”

“Then why were you alone in a bathroom with Carol Perkins?”

“Because I was selling her weed!”

“Why?”

“Because I do that now!” Eddie realizes he’s shouting, he doesn’t want to be shouting. Quieter, he adds, “The money’s good, it doesn’t get in the way of my time at Thatcher… I just…”

“You didn’t want me to know.”

“Your dad is gonna kill me.”

“He doesn’t need to know.”

“Steve.”

“Eddie.”

“I didn’t want to look at Carol’s boobs.”

“I know.”

The sound of the bedroom door unlocking startles them, and Tina Nelson comes out grinning, followed by a sheepish Sam Jankowski.

“I wanna get out of here,” Steve murmurs. “Can we go to the quarry instead?”

“Sure, Baby. Whatever you want.”

Eddie sets an alarm on his watch so he can be sure to kiss Steve at midnight.

💦💦💦

After New Year’s Steve stops accepting invitations to parties. Nicole’s the one who sent Steve looking for Eddie, to find him in a compromising position with Carol. He’s done with it.

Eddie doesn’t even try to convince Steve to give Nicole a second chance. Says taking a break might be good.

But it does mean Eddie needs new places to deal. There’s the picnic table where he and Steve makeout when they cut class. A bench down by Lake Jordan. Skull Rock, where he and Steve go to makeout—and a couple times, to fuck.

But they’re all private enough. Good places to meet customers.

And since Steve only has morning swim practices, he’s there, keeping Eddie company while he waits. Sometimes he does his homework, but he usually has a magazine—one of his mother’s Cosmos—and a Tab cola—also his mother’s. And he looks down his pointed nose at most of Eddie’s buyers.

“Baby, you don’t need to give everyone the stink-eye just because Perkins is a bitch and Nicole is a snake. No one else is stupid enough to try anything,” Eddie says one afternoon at the picnic table, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and kissing his neck.

Steve just keeps glaring after Tina.

Once she’s out of sight, Steve turns in Eddie’s arms and kisses his mouth. His hands rest on Eddie’s chest, and Steve slowly drags them down, along with the zip on his jacket.

“Show it to me again,” Steve whispers.

“Baby, it’s freezing out,” Eddie whines, nuzzling at his cheek.

“Puppy, please!”

Steve pouts. He kisses Eddie again. “Wanna see it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “Okay, Baby.” He slides an arm out of his jacket and flannel, rolls up the sleeve of his t-shirt. Still red with irritation is “Stevie” on his right bicep, the i dotted with a heart.

Steve traces a finger gently over it, smiles that secret smile that is just for Eddie, and kisses his neck. “Love you, Puppy.”

“Love you too, Baby. To the moon and back.”

💦💦💦

Eddie takes Steve to his driver’s test on his sixteenth birthday. He passes easily in Wayne’s pickup truck, and Eddie lets him drive wherever he wants afterwards.

Steve drives them all the way to Chicago. They walk around the city holding hands, get hot dogs from a cart.

Eddie drives them home.

He doesn’t drop Steve off at home until after 11:30. His father is waiting up for him. “Your mother and I had no idea where you were,” he starts, voice raised.

“Nothing happened! I’m home safe!” Steve groans, trying to get past him and go upstairs.

“That isn’t good enough, Steven! You know the rules; you aren’t supposed to go anywhere without letting us know.”

“I’m not a pup anymore! I passed my license test, I thought you wanted me to be able to drive myself to school!”

“To school, not all over creation with your trailer trash boyfriend!”

“You promised not to call him that!”

“And you promised to let us know where you went! Christ, Steven! I still don’t know where you’ve been all day.”

“I’m home, it’s fine. Nothing happened, we were just hanging out.” Steve rubs at his eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

“We’re talking in the morning, Steven.”

Talking in the morning means an ultimatum. Steve’s parents already bought him a car; they do want him to be able to drive himself to school, and Richard’s work is going to take him out of town more and more now.

“You want the keys, you’re going on longterm birth control.”

“Mom! What?”

“I want to be able to trust you, Steven. This is how I trust you.”

“I’m being careful,” Steve moans, suddenly sullen.

“It only takes one time, Steven. Especially in your circumstances.” His mother rubs at her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “We want what’s best for you.”

Steve hides his face in his hands. “Mo-om!” he whines.

“I’ve already made the appointment. You’ll get an IUD, and you will not share your heat with anyone—”

“I’m only ever sharing it with Eddie!”

“Not until you’ve graduated, you aren’t!” His dad finishes, face red.

Steve waits a long minute, breathes hard, trying to calm himself. He wishes he were in his nest, surrounded by safe scents. But it feels like he can’t argue this one. “Fine,” he huffs. “When’s the appointment?”

“Tomorrow.”

Steve growls, a pathetic little thing, all his omega throat can manage. “You had this planned! How long have you—”

“Since we bought the car, Steven.” His father pushes himself up and away from the table.

Steve has a feeling it’s been the plan since his presentation… But he’ll do it if it means he can still see Eddie outside of school hours.

The next day Steve drives over to Eddie’s after his appointment, a hot water bottle strapped to his lower abdomen.

💦💦💦

Eddie gets Steve set up on the couch and goes to refill his hot water bottle. “Do you want a Coke or something?” he asks, and Steve moans in response. “That a no?”

“No bubbles.”

“Water?”

“No, just get back in here.”

“Okay!” He dries off the rubber of the bottle and jogs to the couch. Curling around his cramping boyfriend, Eddie sets the bottle back in place, and drops a kiss to Steve’s bonding gland.

“No,” Steve moans again.

Eddie freezes. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“A doctor inserted a T-shaped wire into my uterus without any painkillers,” Steve deadpans. His scent is sharp from more than the pain, but he lets Eddie scoop him into his lap, and turns to seek the alpha’s neck on his own. “Steve, this is more than the cramps, but that’s bullshit about the painkillers.”

“It is. I cried and the nurse said I needed to tough it out… That it would be over soon enough… The doctor just told me to hold still or it would take longer. What a bitch.”

Eddie feels tears against his neck, and he can’t stop the whine that escapes his throat. He tightens his hold around Steve’s chest. “Such a bitch,” he agrees, nuzzling at Steve’s hair.

“But now we don’t need to be as careful…” Eddie murmurs, his mouth dipping lower to kiss below his ear. “Save us money on condoms.”

Scent turning sweet at that, Steve leans back to look Eddie in the eyes. “Oh yeah?” He flashes Eddie his first genuine smile since he arrived.

“Yeah, Baby. I can finally come inside you, get your sweetness all over my knot—”

Steve stops his mouth with kisses, nipping at his lower lip, only to be hit with another cramp. He collapses against Eddie’s chest with a whine. “That’s what I want, when it stops hurting,” he whispers.

“Okay.” Eddie rubs Steve’s back, makes sure the hot water bottle is properly in place, and kisses his cheek. “For now, do you wanna watch TV?”

Steve nods against his shoulder, fingers curling in Eddie’s flannel. He lasts about fifteen minutes before he falls asleep.

It’s gotten dark by the time Steve wakes up, still safely in Eddie’s arms. His belly still aches from the cramps, but the nap helped. “How’re you feeling, Baby?” Eddie asks softly as Steve wriggles in place.

“Better,” Steve hums, pushing himself up. “Gotta pee.”

“Are you hungry now?” Eddie asks. “Or, I guess, do you feel up to eating something?”

“Yeah!” Steve calls from the bathroom, grimacing at the darkness of his piss. He washes his hands and then splashes water on his face, like maybe he’ll absorb some through his skin.

He comes out to Eddie in the kitchen, making the only thing he knows how to make all that well: scrambled eggs. Steve steps in to help, making toast and pouring orange juice into mugs. But eggs take more time, and Steve comes up behind Eddie, arms going around his waist. “This is nice,” Steve murmurs, “Domestic.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, Puppy. Real nice.”

“It is,” Eddie agrees. He dishes up the eggs, tosses the toast onto the plates, and turns off the burner. “I think there’s some jam in the fridge…”

“I already checked, you’re out. Butter is fine.”

Eddie blushes and carries the plates to the table. Steve follows with their mugs.

Eating together at the table is even more domestic, and Steve feels something warm curl up inside his chest. He wants this all the time, wants everyone to know that he’s got the best alpha.

He stabs at his eggs and mumbles, “Wan’ you to mark me.”

“Pretty sure your dad would actually kill me if I bit you, Baby. And then what’s the point of the IUD?” Eddie returns, knowing exactly what he means.

But he hasn’t made the same leap of logic that Steve has. “More than one way to mark me,” Steve says, hand moving instinctively to cover the now-healed tattoo on Eddie’s arm.

“Pretty sure your dad would kill me for that, too. And your mom would kill me for, I dunno, ‘marring your perfect skin.’”

“They don’t need to know.”

“Steve. How are you gonna hide a tattoo?”

“Make it small… Have it somewhere my swimsuit covers. It’d just be for the two of us.”

“Steve.”

Eddie gives up on talking Steve out of the tattoo idea pretty quickly. He tries to pivot, offering an alternative for the time being. “At least until after your next heat, so you don’t get an infection…”

Steve agrees, pulling down his waistband so Eddie can draw a heart in magic marker over his hip bone, adding an E to the center. Once it dries, he presses a kiss to the mark, promising to redo it once a week.

Purring his pleasure, Steve pulls Eddie to his feet. “Thank you, Puppy.”

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT • MINORS DNI

Dom!Reader x Sub!Steve Harrington • dom/sub dynamic • reader uses a whip • Steve refers to Reader as ‘Mistress.’ • piss kink • degradation (kinda?) • oral (f receiving) • cum eating

Your heels click across the linoleum floor as you approach Steve. He’s naked and sitting on the ground with his hands on his thighs, just as you instructed. His cock is stiffened against his stomach, pointing upright. He wants to touch himself, but he can’t; he isn’t allowed. You stop just behind Steve, your cunt pressed against the back of his head. He tries to turn and taste you, and earns a quick snap of your whip against his shoulder. “No,” you scold Steve. You haven’t given him permission to taste, smell, or even look at you yet.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Steve breathes, his cock leaking precum into the dark hair on his belly. Your hand goes to his rest atop Steve’s head. “What are you, Steve?” you ask, tousling his hair. He swallows, desperate to relieve the tight tension in his groin. “Whatever you want me to be, Mistress,” he exhales. “Anything you need.”

Your legs are locked around Steve’s shoulders from behind. You bend slightly at the knee in a small squat, just enough so your cunt is resting on the back of Steve’s neck. You grip his hair in your hand, holding his head in place. Relaxing your bladder, you release a hot stream of piss onto Steve, the liquid spilling over his shoulders and down his chest. Steve groans as your urine washes over his neglected cock. The only attention it’s received so far is your piss trickling over it. You rub your cunt against the back of Steve’s head, drying yourself on his hair. He waits obediently as you finish, walking around to face him after.

His honey-colored eyes fix on your cunt, bare and glistening. You move closer, your pussy just inches from Steve’s face. His chest dips, nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent, trying his damndest to abide by the rules. You move even closer, till your puffy clit is resting against the bridge of Steve’s nose. His body is trembling as he forces himself to remain focused. You stand like this awhile, torturing him, playing with his hair. “Good boy,” you say after a moment. “Now, clean me up.”

“Yes Mistress-,” Steve pants quickly. His speech is abruptly cut off as he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at your cunt like a thirsty animal. Your swollen clit throbs against Steve’s tongue, his hands balling into fists to keep from touching himself. Your thighs tremble when he thrusts his tongue inside you unexpectedly. Your clit is flush against Steve’s nose as he ruts between your legs, his tongue twisting in between your gummy walls.

“…good…good boy,” you mange, your breath hitching as Steve’s tongue prods you. “You can…touch yourself…now.”

Steve’s body tenses as his hand closes around his cock. He fucks himself at the same pace his tongue fucks inside you. The sound of your wet juices being manipulated by Steve’s tongue and the punch of his fist pumping up and down his cock are the only sounds in the room. You’re leaning into Steve now, hands on his head for support as your legs begin to shake. He licks a powerful orgasm out of you, a loud moan spilling from between your lips as you come. Without even realizing, your fingernails dig into the skin beneath Steve’s hair.

The addition of the pain it causes him makes Steve come immediately. He groans into your cunt, semen spurting onto his belly and thighs as he ejaculates all over himself. You bend down to his level and drag your fingers across Steve’s thigh, collecting some of the mess he made. You bring your fingers to Steve’s lips, issuing one final command: “clean it up.”

[punkrockmlchael]

Eddie Munson Masterlistᰔᩚ

here's all of my eddie munson work complied into one list!

requests are currently: open!

have requests? send them in here!

all fics listed are x fem!reader unless otherwise stated!

🔥 - indicates smut

❤️ - indicates fluff

⭐️ - indicates my personal faves

** - indicates requested

-One Shots:

✰ Casual - fuckers to lovers 🔥⭐️

✰ Under the Mistletoe - 12 days of promptmas prompt🔥

✰ Just Thinkin' About You - 12 days of promptmas prompt; gn! reader ❤️ (but also some sadness)

✰ The Gift that Keeps on Giving - corroded coffin fest prompt; fanboy!eddie x popstar!fem reader🔥 COMING SOON!

-Series:

✰ Sorry! Nothing here yet

-Short Blurbs/Head Canons:

(stupid + silly little things that pop into my head; not proof read or formatted)

✰ Spiders - gn!reader ❤️

✰ Modern Rockstar!Eddie - ❤️

✰ Childhood Crush - ❤️

-100 Follower Celebration Masterlist

(under this masterlist there are some more eddie prompts!)

**all of these works listed are my copyright and they come from my own little brain. i do not consent for any of them to copied, translated, edited or shared on any other platforms. especially put into any ai platforms or anything of the nature. thank you!**

[astorytotellyourfriends]

chapter three

you were a miracle (i was just holding your space) by justyrae

chrissy/eddie | 6 chapters | teen & up audiences

Chrissy and Eddie may have grown up very differently before the world was ravaged by war, but Hawkins Academy gives them common ground as well as a chance for love that neither expected to find.

read it here on ao3

[the-witty-pen-name]

Electric Touch (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Synopsis: Inspired by "Electric Touch" by Taylor Swift ft. Fall Out Boy

Steve has not had the best time in recent history when it comes to love. He knows he shouldn’t put all this weight on a first date, but he can’t help it. His mind is overrun with thoughts of you- with him, being the one. Maybe this time, he’ll have finally gotten it right.

A/N: Can be read read as a follow-up to "The Love Triangle from Hell" or can be read as something entirely separate. This reader is not the same as the one in that series- but it's the same Steve in my head (if that makes sense??)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; smut (not overly explicit); piv; oral (f) receving; kissing; cursing

Steve never used to be anxious leading up to a date. He’d be calm and collected- confident. He was charismatic… once. Now, a terrible dry spell and terrible heartaches later, he’s met someone. And he so wants tonight to go well that he’s been pacing since getting ready a whole hour early. Eddie joked Steve was going to set sparks on the carpet from the friction. Steve couldn’t help it- he’s desperately trying to rid his body of this nervous energy. He needed to get it out of his system before you arrived. It was just hanging out, he tried to calm his nerves. Just breathe. He just so desperately wanted this to go well. 

He didn’t want to put too much pressure on this. It’s just the first date he’s had in a while. Not that you were calling it a date- no one has officially said date, but fuck- Steve wishes tonight is a date with you. He hasn’t been able to get you out of his head since he met you- completely by happenstance. It’s always when it happens- just when you decide you’re done- giving up completely on dating, you meet the person who you’re willing to get yourself hurt again over. 

“It’s just watching a movie, Steve,” Eddie tries to calm his friend’s nerves. He’s sitting at the little bench they have by their front door- leaving soon for a date of his own tonight. “You’re still King Steve,” he teases and in his frustration, Steve flips him off. “You just need to channel that lady killer energy- not all of it, but the good parts,” Eddie offers advice and Steve shrugs. Steve goes over to the window, peeking outside to see if your car is pulling up yet. 

“I really, really like this girl,” he groans, flopping onto the couch dramatically. “I can’t keep fucking up.”

“You’re going to if you don’t stop overthinking this,” Eddie points out. He shrugs on his jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with his hands over his face. He waves Eddie away dramatically. With an unintentional slam of the front door, Eddie is gone- leaving Steve to his own devices as he tries to pull himself together. 

Steve has not had the best time in recent history when it comes to love. He just wants what everyone else seems to have- all of his friends managing to have love figured out at this moment. He feels like he’s being left behind- and he knows he’s missing out. He knows he shouldn’t put all this weight on a first date, but he can’t help it. His mind is overrun with thoughts of you- with him, being the one. Maybe this time, he’ll have finally gotten it right. 

You’ll show up, and you'll be just as shy as he feels- because maybe, just maybe you’re feeling the same way as him. You’ve been thinking about him just as much as he’s been thinking about you. You want him. It’s finally that fucking simple. He wants you to want him, to crave his company as much as he hopes for yours. You’re perfect for him, and maybe he’ll be perfect for you. Fate finally lets him have someone who wants him- he wants his soulmate. Maybe you’re her. Maybe tonight will go well and it’s the start of something wonderful. 

He imagines how it will feel to have you so close, sitting flush against his side. Your perfume will smell so good, and your skin against his will feel so soft. He wants to wrap his arm around your shoulders, and pull you in closer. He imagines what the weight of your head will feel like on his shoulder and if your hair will be ticklish as you rest in the crook of his neck. He wants to experience what it would be like to be close to you like that. 

He wonders if you’ll be as nervous as he feels, or maybe you’re so much braver than him and make the first move. Maybe you’ll kiss him, leaning up as the credits roll and your lips taste so sweet from your lip gloss. Would you kiss him slowly? Would it be one of those chaste, perfect first kisses? Or would you be more needy, more desperate? Just overwhelmed with the feeling of being close to him like how he would feel. Maybe you’ll climb into his lap to let him know you want to go further- you need to be closer, and he’ll happily oblige. Whatever you want. 

How would it feel if you pressed against him? He imagines how beautiful you’ll look in the dark, the TV light making a halo around your body he so badly wants to know. How perfect would your legs rest around his waist? Would he be able to feel the heat between your legs through your clothes? Would you moan? God, he wants to know your pretty sounds. Would you want to take things further? Would you ask between fevered kisses which bedroom was his? 

If you wanted, he’d lay you down and just worship your body if you’d let him. Would you? He imagines how you’d look- your hair played out across his pillow. He can see you in his bed like you were always meant to be there. It’s a space he wants to have completely taken over by you. He’ll be so gentle, if that's what you’re needing. He’ll take his time, pull back your layers as you let him. Maybe you’ll be more impatient, wiggling under his touch until he gives you exactly what you’re craving- what he’s craving to give to you. 

He wonders what you’re wearing- if maybe you picked out any of it just for him? He won’t ask, but he’ll imagine you doing just that. You want to look your best, the same way he does. He wants to put in the effort for you- he’ll spend hours to make his hair the perfect messy, he’ll overthink every sweater and shirt in his closet and he hopes that you did the same. Maybe you left your apartment with clothes strewn everywhere because you also couldn’t settle on what you wanted to wear. Maybe you’ll practice conversations in the mirror as you do your makeup like he did as he ran product through his hair. He’ll make sure to appreciate your efforts. 

Would you let him take it off? After all your hard work, would you let him get underneath it all? God, he knows you’d be so perfect. Would you let him kiss you absolutely everywhere? He imagines kissing your ankles, up the length of your gorgeous legs, before he settles your thighs- your beautiful thighs- on his shoulders. He wants to roll his tongue into you and kiss your wetness, and spend hours there if you’d only let him. He knows he could make you feel so good if you just give him a chance. 

He wants to know the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair. He wants to feel you tug him closer, and he wants to feel you coming apart for him. He imagines the grip of his hands on your thighs to keep you steady when the feeling starts to become too much. He’s got you. He wants you to know it’s okay to just let go. He wants to know how you feel in every sense. He wants to feel your body shake and hear your pretty moans for him if he makes you cum with his tongue. 

He wants to feel your skin, he wants to feel the sheen of sweat between your bodies. He wants to kiss your salty skin and whisper how much he loves you as he pushes into you for the first time. He knows you’ll feel so good. He knows you’ll take him so well. He just wants to stretch you out, and he knows you’ll look so pretty on his cock. He wants to kiss your pretty tits, and squeeze them and lick your hardened nipples. Anything- absolutely anything that would make his girl feel good. He wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to worship you the way he wants to. The way you deserve. 

He’s let his mind wander too far, and he knows he needs to reign himself in. He sits up, and goes back to the window again- perfect timing. He sees the headlights of your car as you pull into the driveway. He takes a few deep breaths, shaking the thoughts he should not be thinking about right now. He fluffs the pillows and fixes the blanket on the back of the couch, trying to think of anything not sexy to calm himself down. 

Hair in the shower drain, double shifts at work, dirty dishes…

Buzz

His thoughts are interrupted by the buzz of the intercom. 

“Hey, Steve, it’s me!” he hears your cheerful voice through the speaker. He can’t help but smile and it melts his heart. He has a good feeling that this is going to be the start of something really great. 

“Come on up,” he says, pushing the button to buzz you in.

TAGLIST:@sunshinepeachx@downbear@fanlifeaamt@exploding-bonbon@losingmygrasponreality@skiddypiddy@andvys@djodirt@moonlightsolo@kyga01@sheisjoeschateau@melaninjhs@v3lv3tf0x@purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles@sunshine-mrk@danymunsonharrington@mrsjellymunson@fanficfantik@the-unforgivenn@punkrockmlchael

[strangerstilinski]

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

[djosfavewig]

HOW I FEEL KNOWING WHATS NEXT EHEHEHEEEE.

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: We had the clock app banned for a few hours and I was momentarily frightened over how we’d get season 5 edits :,) Now, if you haven’t already realized, this fic follows through the episodes of season four. Let’s see if there’s any changes…

Currently Reading: Part Two

Masterlist

At nine in the morning, it's been twelve hours since you’ve discovered the intruders. Twelve hours since you had heard Eddie’s story, and pieces of the stories Dustin, Robin, Max and Steve had spared over the few years of curses that they’ve endured.

Sleep came sparingly, and you had been dressed and ready to…you’re not sure exactly, but you couldn’t sit still any longer.

Most days, you walk to the house when making your checks, but this morning you take your car- not caring about how the gravel might scuff the rims or how the dust will dirty the paint. The engine cuts when you pull the key out of the ignition, quickly climbing out and loading your arms with a few bags of snacks and water bottles before shutting the car door.

You haven’t made it halfway to the boathouse when a second car pulls into the drive, the familiar faces from the night before following you to the building, carrying bags of their own.

Robin nods a hello, handing off an extra bag to Dustin and follows him and Max ahead of you to the boathouse. Steve, on the other hand, lingers back, sticking by you.

“Here.” He reaches out, taking the heavier bags from your hands.

“Thanks.” You offer him a small smile, but it’s little more than a nicety, still unnerved by the information fed to you the night before.

He gives you his own polite smile, falling as quickly as your own did, just as exhausted. Quietly, you walk together, following the group to the door.

The quiet, however, is broken when the door opens and a disgruntled, nervous Eddie is posed with a weapon and a few choice words for scaring him so badly.

Dustin grins, raising the bags, while Steve reaches over your head to wave his fingers, an action so petty you nearly laugh. “Delivery service!”

Muttering a few insulting phrases, Eddie takes one of the bags, pulling out the first thing he can reach. A box of cereal. He stalks away, towards the boat he has deemed his favorite spot in the building, opening the box as he walks.

Steve drops the bags on the floor, the others following suit. Groceries spill onto the floor, and you crouch to gather them before they fall into the water to be wasted.

A shadow casts over you, and when you glance up, you see Steve lowering to help you, wordlessly placing them back into the bags.

When you stand, he gestures for you to stand beside him, opening a small bag of trail mix he hadn’t replaced, offering it to you- as if he had known you hadn’t eaten since the afternoon before.

Standing beside Steve against the wall, the two of you share the food. Every time you finish a portion, he’ll pour more into your outstretched hand- an action so natural you could imagine you’ve been close friends for years, rather than acquainted for less than a day.

“So we got, uh…” Dustin begins to talk while Eddie feasts on dry cereal. “Some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?”

Eddie pretends to consider his options, a handful of cereal being dropped back into the yellow box before lifting an equally bright colored bottle of Yoohoo. “Bad news first, always.”

“Alright, bad news.” Dustin continues. “We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they're definitely looking for you.”

The news is new to you, making you wince, half wondering if you’ve become an accomplice to this entire thing.

“Also, they’re pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.” He adds as if it were the morning weather depicting sunny skies.

“Like, one hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max says, with a bit more sensitivity than Dustin is using with the recently criminalized man sulking in a boat.

You sigh, dropping the side of your head to the support beam you’re leaning against, only to feel Steve’s hand wrap around your wrist and tug it close enough to pour more trail mix into your palm, either as a distraction or apology, you welcome it either way.

“And the good news?” Eddie asks with a tired breath.

Robin is the one to answer. “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But, if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out. Everyone and their shallow minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

Eddie’s eyes turn away. “Hunt the freak, right?”

“Exactly.” Robin says with no hesitation, though you can sense the regret in her voice.

Eddie curses, but Dustin attempts to make a futile attempt at a plan. “So before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

Steve nods beside you, as if the plan is fullprof, but doesn’t attempt to appear at all convinced when he catches your gaze.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie’s smile is forced and bitter.

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”

“Listen, Eddie.” Robin spares him. “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kinda thing before.”

You flick your eyes to Steve who offers an unenthusiastic nod, confirming her claims.

Robin rephrases. “I mean, they have. A few times. And I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based. Theirs was more smoke related. But- bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we’ve got this.”

Steve nods again, this time for more than just you. “Yeah, see, we’ve usually got this girl who has super powers. But, those went bye-bye, so…”

The look on your face but be incredulous, because he shrugs when he sees it, as if trying to weakly convince you it’s true.

“So, we’re technically in more of the…”

“In the brainstorming phase?” Max answers, sounding unsure herself.

“Brainstorming!” Steve smiles and snaps, agreeing.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin says, causing Steve to huff a laugh to brush it all off- only making you less confident of the situation than you were before.

Before the awkward conversation and failed reassurance can continue, sirens begin to go off outside, making everyone turn. In seconds, Eddie is hidden beneath the tarp again and the rest of you are posed by the windows.

A set of emergency vehicles drive past quickly, their lights and sirens on.

“What do you think they're going to?” You ask out loud, not sure if you’d even earn an answer to the question.

“Robbery?” Robin asks hopefully, though her voice is tense enough to suggest she knows better.

Dustin speaks what everyone’s thinking, even you. “Another victim.”

Listening to the sirens as they fade, you glance at each one of them, trying to figure out if you really do believe there stories- if you trust them enough to stay, or if you should run now.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Steve pushes away from the window, pulling his keys from his pocket and hurrying through the door.

Robin, Max, and Dustin follow quickly. For several seconds, you remain motionless, watching them retreat, listening to the car door open. You don’t have enough time to make your decision, to even catch your breath from the last hours of your life- and yet you willingly follow them.

Quickly, you rush to the door, Steve has just closed the driver side when you appear. When he sees you, he waves a hand to tell you to hurry. Robin, who had taken the passenger seat, tells the kids to move before she climbs into the back without getting out.

You get into the passenger seat as fast as you can, barely closing the door before Steve has reversed out of the driveway and begins to speed down the road to chase the cop cars and ambulance, but they’re too far ahead.

The road is a straight shot for a minute, but you soon pull up to a fork in the road, the emergency vehicles nowhere in sight, and the sirens echoing in every direction. Steve slows the car to a stop, cursing while Dustin’s voice cuts in with a mild complaint. You pay little attention to the argument starting between the four- instead reaching down to lower your window.

The sirens are fainter now, and you squint into the forest in either direction. On the right, you can make out the distant reflection of the lake, more trees past that, and on the left… You have to climb halfway out of the window, your arms against the rooftop of the car.

Steve notices first, his voice snapping from the argument and turning to you. “Hey, what are you-”

The red and blue flashing confirms what you had thought you’d seen. “There.” You point towards the left when you come to a fork in the road. “I can see the lights through the trees.”

“Got it, now get down!” Steve urges, a hand grasping your coat and holding onto you while you ease back into the car, trying not to slip.

Once you’re secured back into your seat, he sets off again, turning left and driving until you finally catch sight of the lights ahead.

“Shit.” Dustin groans as you get closer to the cars, a blockade and several people already on scene. “We’re late- they’ve already secured the scene. And now-”

Max hushes him, then opens her car door to be the first one out. Dustin and Robin follow. You climb out as Steve shuts off the car before stepping out himself. In the distance, you see another familiar face- one you hadn’t thought of since Highschool.

Nancy Wheeler is standing with a pair of officers, who seem to be questioning her. Her eyes land on the group, lingering on you for a few moments too long, and you wonder if she’s having the same thoughts as you. Why is she here?

“Is she…” You turn to Dustin who stands behind you, the car door held open. “Is she part of everything?”

He nods. “It started with Barb.”

“Barb?” You gasp, stomach dropping. “You mean, Barb was in on everything? They said she went missing?”

“She did…sort of?” He shakes his head, not elaborating.

Mind now muddied with the new information, that your friend had been involved is more troubling than anything else that they’ve told you so far. The girl you had spent days searching for, crying for- had not just gone missing but had been entangled in this.

You focus your eyes on the scene in front of you, attempting to make sense of it- to take your mind off of anything else, but it’s anything but comforting.

“A body.” You huff out, seeing the tarp being pulled over a mangled shape in the center of the road. “That’s fucking great.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs, shutting the car door. “Welcome to the shitstorm.”

The officers let Nancy go, and she immediately begins to walk in your direction. Her arms are crossed, eyes reddened. The group of you meet her halfway, you linger on the edge, unsure of your place in it all.

“What happened?” Dustin is the first to speak, but Nancy shakes her head and her eyes meet yours.

“Who’s this?”

The question makes you raise your brow, the calm accusation in her voice much too passive of the crime still standing in the street behind her. You give her your name, but she does nothing more than stare, scrutinizing your presence.

“She found Eddie.” Steve offers, which causes her eyes to snap to his, attention caught by Eddie’s mention.

“She found him-” Her eyes flick to you, then move back to Steve. “Forest Hills. There’s too many people here, we’ll talk there. Don’t let her go.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen Nancy, and you’ve never spoken to her before- but suddenly you understand the rumors or her too sweet personality being foraged. The entirety of Highschool you managed to never cross paths, and you believed the rumors to be made up by bored students. At least you had until the story about the Halloween party.

Now, you’re sure that they were onto something. She doesn’t even say goodbye, just turns and stalks towards her car across the street. Steve sighs, and gestures back towards his car, everyone else piling in already.

Biting your tongue, you climb back into your seat, closing the car door and letting the mild irritation dissipate.

The drive feels longer than it truly is, Nancy drives ahead, being the first one to pull into the trailer park. She parts a few yards from a set of picnic tables. When Steve parks, you sit for a moment in the car, hesitant to listen to more unpleasant occurrences happening in Hawkins.

You’re the last one to get out of the car, walking towards the picnic table and taking the only free seat, between Steve and Dustin. And directly across from Nancy. You try not to let the fact that she watches every move bother you.

The entire time that Nancy and the rest exchange stories, you remain silent. Soon, they let you speak, telling them how you had found Eddie and helping them explain Eddie’s experience.

“So you’re saying that, this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?” Nancy asks, processing what she’s been given.

“If the shoe fits.” Steve responds, and you hold back a snort.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse.” Dustin begins to say, diving into what he and Eddie had concluded in the boathouse the prior night. “Now, wherever or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

Before you can ask what a Mind Flayer is, Max speaks. “All we know is this is something different. Something new.”

Nancy shakes her head, her face pinched in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s only a theory.” Dustin is cut off.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense.” She looks up. “I mean… why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Even to you, Dustin’s idea seems weak.

“And near the trailer park.” Max says.

You look up, unsettled and meeting Steve’s eyes right before he speaks your mind. “We’re at the trailer park.”

“Should we maybe…” You look around, the entire place seemingly stilled. “Not be here?”

“There is something about this place.” Nancy speaks over you, and you manage not to roll your eyes. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin leans forward. “Acting weird as in…?”

“Scared.” Nancy continues. “On edge. Upset.”

The wind picks up, and you wrap your coat tighter around you, listening to her words and letting them settle.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too.” Dustin remembers, the dots connecting and revealing a little more at a time.

“Yeah, but not here.” She reverses the statement. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

Slowly, it clicks into place, your mind adapting to follow the clues and search for leads, eventually leading to one regulation. You have to shake the hesitation before you speak, push away the fear that you’ll be looked down upon if you’re wrong.

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” You say, looking at Steve for support before going on. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this…Vecman-”

“Vecna.” Dustin corrects.

Steve ignores him,scratching at his jaw with a sort of leisure, which eases the sting of your embarrassment. “I don’t know about you guys, but if I say some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Maybe they did.” Max nods. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms, Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you…you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your-”

“Your shrink.” Robin finishes.

As if sharing one mind, everyone jumps into action. You stand from the table, heading towards the car, ready to follow your leads. Halfway to the car, you hear Steve’s voice calling after Nancy.

“Whoa, whoa. Nance. Nance!” He attempts to stop her before she can get further. “Nance, where are you going?”

She turns, a look on her face that tells you she’d rather not tell him- let alone anyone else standing here. “Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She keeps walking, trying to ignore his pressing.

“Something you wanna share with the rest of us?” You ask without thinking, earning a narrowed look from her and a nod of agreement from Dustin.

“I don’t wanna waste your time.” She says to Steve. “It’s a real shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay, are you out of your mind?” He asks, his voice taking an edge. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose?”

You lean towards Robin, keeping your voice low. “Isn’t she dating the Byers boy?” Robin snorts, and you fight a smile while Steve keeps talking.

“No. It’s too dangerous. You need someone to…” He taps his fingers against his leg, then turns and tosses his car keys to Robin. “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance, Alright? You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”

Robin scoffs softly and gestures to his car with the keys. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t have a license.” She says as if it were obvious, the keys jingling in her hands as she moves her arms.

“Why don’t you have a license?” He asks, almost offended by her admission.

“I’m poor.” The answer is simple enough.

Max chimes in all too eagerly. “I can drive-”

“No!” Steve’s reaction is immediate, complete with horror and an accusatory finger. “Never again- Please, anybody but you. No.”

Dustin makes a face, as if suggesting he could drive and Steve quickly denies him as well. You don’t even make an attempt, though you’re likely the only other capable driver here.

“Alright, okay. This is stupid.” Robin reaches into Dustin’s backpack, pulling the second Walkie-Talkie from the pocket before stalking towards Nancy. “Us ladies will stick together. Unless, you think we need you to protect us?”

Steve answers with a tight lipped and fake smile, obviously upset by the way she’d handled the situation. Nancy shrugs and turns her back, following Robin to her car.

“Be careful.” Steve raises his voice towards them, Robin raising a peace sign aim response.

“Just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin asks, pulling Steve’s attention away from the retreating pair of girls.

“Shut up.” He turns back to the car, walking towards the driver side.

Dustin presses more, for his own amusement. “Why don’t we go? Okay?”

“Shut up and get in the car.” Steve tells him again, walking past Max as she climbs into the backseat. “And wipe your feet.”

Dustin stares straight at him, sticking his leg into the car and wiping his dirty shoes on the floorboard, pissing Steve off further.

“Are they always like this?” You ask Max, sitting in the back with her while Steve yells at Dustin in the front.

She nods. “All the time.”

Steve begins to drive, and not then minutes down the road, the crackling sound of the radio brings to echo through the car- a voice filtering through desperately.

“Lucas?” Dustin scrambles for the radio, answering as fast as he can. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Just listen.” The boy on the other end pleads, sounding no less anxious. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”

Dustin clicks the button. “We found him, no thanks to you.”

“You found him?” The static becomes thicker and thinner between words.

“A boathouse on Lipton Road.”

“My boathouse.” You say to no one in particular, not earning an answer.

“Don’t worry, he’s safe.” Dustin continues.

“You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?” The tone he takes is more aggressive, betrayal laced.

“That’s bullshit.” Dustin argues. “Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas is quick to answer. “Then why do all the cops say he did it?”

Before Dustin can reply, Max reaches across the seat and takes the radio from his hands, raising it to speak. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school- we’ll explain later.”

“I can’t.” He sighs. “I think some real bad shits about to go down.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? What bad shit?”

Static. He doesn’t answer, not even when Max calls his name a few times in hopes of a response. She continues to try, until eventually giving up, and in less than twenty minutes, you’re in the middle of a neighborhood.

The therapist's house is just like any other, placed on a suburban lawn with equally as quaint neighbors. You’d never suspect that a Highschool student was about to steal the key to confidential information from a school official for the sake of ending the terror of some Vecna monster.

From the car, you watch as Max rings the doorbell and Ms. Kelley answers. They speak for a miner before she allows Max inside, closing the door behind them.

“Okay, she’s in.” Steve says.

Dustin, still not over their spat at the trailer park, spits back with annoyance. “I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, bewildered.

“So,” His voice takes a more serious tone, forgoing the question you ask. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

Steve looks away from the house to finally glance at him. “Sorry, talk about what?”

Dustin’s eyes widen, he raises his brows as he speaks. “You’re temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance?”

You huff out a laugh, settling in to hear the conversation, giving it your full attention.

“First of all, that’s not what happened.” Steve narrows his eyes at Dustin, not expecting it when you are the one to answer.

“Pretty sure that’s what happened.” You offer a sheepish smile when he gives you a look.

Dustin readily agrees with you. “It was public, there were a lot of witnesses.”

“Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance?” Steve acts offended with the slight suggestion.

“No, he’s not implying.” You can’t hide the smile that spreads on your face, though it’s born of the enjoyment you take in the drama.

“I’m stating.” Dustin adds. “And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”

“That’s not the only one.” Steve doesn’t hesitate, and it results in a barked laugh you can’t stifle, realizing that Dustin doesn’t have a clue. “And as for Nance- I was just trying to protect a friend. A friend, Henderson. Okay?”

“Okay.” He relents, but the disbelief is evident in his tone and demeanor.

“I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep-“

Dustin speaks through a short burst of laughter. “You’re like, bright red in the face right now-”

“No I’m not- I don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll punch you so hard in your face that your teeth will fall back out-”

“Whoa.” You cringe.

“Too far.” Dustin frowns at Steve, and your gaze moves between them, watching the guilt settle into Steve’s eyes.

“Not cool. Sorry.” Steve apologizes.

Dustin accepts it immediately, the tension easing just slightly. “Not cool. It’s okay.”

And as most men do, they settle it over a fist bump, which only makes you laugh again to yourself in slight disbelief. But before you can fall back into conversation, Steve looks out the window just as Max begins to walk out and rushes to the car. “Here she comes, here she comes.”

She climbs in quickly, ordering Steve to drive, yelling at him when he doesn’t quickly enough. He starts the car and speeds off, the movement pressing you into the back of your seat and squealing coming from the tires.

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[steddieasitgoes]

Teacher!Steve isn't big on music himself, but he has a Spotify for his students so they can listen to the songs/artists they like when they're doing independent work/quizzes/etc. He makes them submit songs periodically throughout the year so it stays updated and all their music preferences are heard.

Naturally, all his students are excited to see what a mess his Spotify Wrapped is and Steve makes sure to schedule in time for each class period so they can go through it together when its released.

Of course, it's a hot mess but they all love it, especially the videos their top artists send in.

Steve generally has no idea who sings any of the songs on the various playlists and has a lot of fun putting a face to a voice as they scroll through each video. It's pretty standard selfie shots of the artists talking until they get to one where a man with curly hair and big brown eyes is hopping around like an excitable child, practically shouting his name into the camera and rambling about how much he "appreciates each and every one of the heathens who listens to Corroded Coffin."

Steve has to do a double take because, "wait what?! this is the guy that's always shouting and singing about demons?! but he's so cute!"

His first-period class bursts into laughter at his outburst and of course someone is videoing his reaction. It gets posted to TikTok before the dismissal bell rings and by the time lunch gets there, the video of Steve going heart eyes for Eddie Munson goes viral.

Steve's embarassed but he doesn't ask his student to take it down because he knows how much they've been hoping to go viral this year. Besides, its not like anyone important is every going to see it, right?

Wrong.

Of course, chronically online Eddie Munson stumbles upon the TikTok and promptly runs through the green room, declaring his love for the beautiful Mr. Harrington, who teaches history to high schoolers for a living. He forces their assistant to drop everything he's working on and track down this Mr. Harrington guy because Eddie will not rest until he can talk to him.

Fast forward two days and Steve is hiding in his classroom during lunch, avoiding his coworkers to shamelessly flirt with Eddie Munson via Zoom.