#eddie lives in this au now i guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chelseeebe · 8 months ago

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you win, i lose

we’re back with these two pathetic little weirdos, who cheered!! another follow up to gimme a hand, bump n’ grind and truth or dare or can be read as a standalone! i think i’m gonna give these two a break for now and work on some other things including some lovely requests i have<3

18+. mdni! smut with a little bit of plot this time! female!reader x eddie munson. no use of y/n. modern au i guess but it is so not mentioned or relevant

eddie sighs, a long, guttural sigh that on reflection, made him sound like a sad little dog.

“what the hell was that for?” barely looking up from your phone to talk to him.

he debates even saying it, terrified that you’d have his balls chopped off for uttering the words.

“don’t you think we’re boring now?” voice wavering as the words come out.

after six months of officially dating, your relationship had started to slow a little. no more making him cum in his pants or sneaky blowjobs in the bathroom at parties. it was sex or it was sleep.

the transition from best friends who shouldn’t be doing this to same old couple had been jarring, especially over the past week when eddie’s felt his dick was on overdrive.

“boring? huh? i don’t think we’re boring? we literally went to a gig tonight,” baffled by his insulting suggestion.

“not like that,” leering up at you from his side of the bed, “i mean.. when we have sex, it’s kinda boring,” shrugging, as if to lessen the blow of what he’d said.

your face crumples, both offence and perhaps a little hurt flash through your features. “wow, thanks eds. no, i actually didn’t think that at all.”

it’s in that moment that he realises, he’s fucked up. majorly.

“w- i’m- shit, no,” shoulders slumping, “you’re taking it the wrong way,” as if there were any other way for you to take it.

“i don’t think so, you couldn’t have been clearer actually,” sending daggers through his skull, “alright,” you place your hands on your hips, “you don’t get to touch me for a week, no kissing, no cuddling.. definitely no sex,” pouting slightly, “since that’s how you wanna be.”

“what?” eddie sits up, at full attention now, “you know i didn’t mean it like that,” fumbling to turn this around.

“i don’t care, you said it,” standing strong, “now you have to live with the consequences.”

his head rolls back against the headboard, immediate regret for anything he had just said.

god only knows if he’d live to survive the week.

that night in bed, eddie turns, huffing his frustrations into the pillow. it hadn’t even been twenty four hours yet and he already felt like he was going crazy.

his hand sprawls out over the mattress, edging to touch you, though he stops just before.

“you wanna give up already?” you taunt, staring though the darkness to throw another jab at him.

“no, i don’t. i just wanna cuddle my girlfriend in bed, is that too much to ask?”

“i told you the rules, no.”

“fuuck,” grumbling to himself, “this is stupid,” pouting to himself, in his self-inflicted drought.

“maybe don’t say stupid shit and this won’t have to happen again,” smug and self-righteous as you turn away, leaving him to yearn for just a brush of skin.

the party had been a bad idea from the start. eddie had never been so pent up in his life and it had only been three, long, miserable days.

you’d made sure to wear that tiny black dress, the one he really liked. struggling to even keep his eyes on the road on the drive over.

a few beers and a no-contact order could only mean one thing and he was dreading it.

you were adamant on making eyes at him across the kitchen counter all night, driving him literally insane. any other time, you’d have snuck off to the bathroom or gone home early but he knows there is a slim chance of that happening tonight.

you sidle up to him, mischievous glint in your eye as you slide something into his pocket before slinking off again, faster than he can compute.

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the lacy fabric just enough to realise what it was. quickly spinning on his heel so as to not let anyone else see.

your fucking panties. wrapped around his fingers for everyone to see.

there’s no hesitation about it, excusing himself to the bathroom before anyone could ask what he was doing.

holy shit. you’re fucking crazy. on another playing field completely. eddie almost wishes that he’d asked for your panties earlier, far before you’d decided to play these brutal games with him.

he slides them from his pocket, not before making sure the door was locked for the second time, holding them to his nose, like the freak he truly was.

oh god.

he misses you so bad. he’d take the most boring, uneventful missionary for the rest of his life if it meant you’d never deprive him of this ever again.

it takes a moment for him to regain enough consciousness to rejoin the party, keeping his fingers wrapped tight around the lacy material as argyle prattles on about some crazy new strain he’d discovered.

your eyes sparkle, waiting for him to meet your gaze. but he’s not giving you that. not allowing you the satisfaction of ruining him so badly.

the second the van is far enough away from the house, eddie wails loudly in despair.

“that wasn’t fair!” he whines, throwing his head back against the seat of his van, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

“it’s totally fair,” you refute, smiling away to yourself.

“no it’s not,” huffing like a petulant child, “i can’t give you my boxers to sniff.. it’s not equal.”

“i’m sorry- you sniffed them?” flabbergasted, “you’re a pervert,” collapsing into a fit of giggles.

“yeah i fucking did,” proud of his perversions, he was the most sexually frustrated he had ever been, sniffing your panties was nothing compared to what he felt like doing.

“weirdo.”

eddie wants so badly to reach over, slide his hand underneath your dress and really take advantage of the no-panties situation. he was getting hard just thinking about it.

it’s crazy how much you insulting him was actually turning him on more.

“please just let me touch you,” he pleads, “i’m sorry for what i said, i need you,” there had been a time where eddie had to make do with getting to feel your touch every couple months, he’s not sure how he ever survived.

three days and he felt like he was about to implode.

not only had he dreamed of your pussy, it had been haunting him in his mundane life too.

stuck under some dusty old car at work, only thinking about how good you felt, ignoring any of the actually important things he had to do.

“nuh-uh, you made your bed, now lie in it,” propping your feet up on the dash, causing your skirt to slide even higher.

eddie couldn’t believe you’d be so evil and cruel, even in his darkest hour you were depriving him of you.

at some point in the night, eddie’s brain must have decided that enough was enough. his half-asleep, dream filled mind doesn’t really comprehend what he’s doing, hand snaking around your waist, using your body as leverage to pull himself closer, pressed against your ass.

“eddie.. eddie,” you hush, shaking his arm. “you’re cheating,” voice still hoarse and sleepy.

“i give up,” he grumbles, slowly grinding his hips against your ass, “you win, i lose,” admitting defeat at long last. if only he had sucked up his pride enough to do this four days ago.

“four days.. four fucking days,” you scold, though make no effort to move away from him, “you can’t even last a full week, you loser,” chastising him was music to his ears.

“mhm,” he grumbles into the back of your neck, “keep being mean to me, i love it,” spare hand creeping down to shift your shorts to the side.

you laugh into the pillow, moving your hips backwards against his crotch, “you’re so pathetic,” you goad, only firing him up more.

“oh god,” he groans, still rutting against the soft fabric, “i’m gonna cum right now,” whining into your ear.

“if you cum without fucking touching me, i’m gonna be so pissed off,” your grip tightening on his forearm, almost pinching him.

he huffs into your hair, slowing his rhythm to a complete stop, hastily tugging on your pajama shorts, eager to get them off and his dick wet.

this can’t have been any better on you, really, not only were you punishing him, but yourself too.

your shorts rest somewhere around your ankles as eddie struggles to get his own boxers down, grunting in sheer desperation as his cock aches for you.

his hand slides underneath your tee, pulling it up with his arm, gripping onto your boob for leverage. eddie’s never been one to take control but if he hadn’t, he’s not sure you’d have ever touched him again.

wasting no time in hoisting your leg higher, his already leaking tip nudging your sopping entrance. confirmation that you’d been just as eager for it as he was.

“‘m so hard for you,” pushing himself between your folds, shuddering at the overwhelming feelings jolting through his limbs.

“shit,” you breathe, placing your palm above his as it gropes your fleshy skin.

“need you-oh god.. so bad,” senselessly thrusting his hips, slamming against your ass while the bed begins to rock, thanking his lucky stars that wayne was still at work.

“yeah? tell me, tell me how bad you need it,” gasping for air, your soft, angelic pants fill his tiny bedroom.

eddie groans, aching to please you but also unable to fathom the correct words needed to truly convey his feelings.

“y-you’re all i think about,” tightening his grip on your skin, “at work..” panting his words out between rhythmless thrusts, “at home- fuck oh fuck,” squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to make this last at least a few minutes longer.

nothing had ever felt so euphoric, frying his nerve endings, sending his brain into a hazy state that he just may never recover from.

“fuck,” you grit, clawing at his hand, “missed you so bad,” rolling your head back to rest on his shoulder, showing no mercy to his neighbours with your echoing moans. guaranteed to receive disgusting looks from david across the way for the rest of his life.

at this point, eddie becomes an incoherent babbling mess, eyes pressed shut as his stomach flips and turns in all directions. is now the time to start thinking about having kids?

“let me.. let me cum in you,” driven wild by the thought of filling you up over and over. a rare treat that really only lead to a week of stress for you both, but so incredibly worthwhile.

chanting his name right into his ear, other hand stuck between your thighs, circling your clit with an animalistic ferocity. you’d wanted this just as bad as he did, only you were clearly more strong-willed than he’d ever be.

not a second of this had been boring or anything he ever wanted to miss again. swearing to himself that he’d never be so to open his mouth foolish again.

“y-yeah,” nodding encouragingly, “please,” nearing your own, overdue orgasm.

eddie had been clued on to all the little signs for months now, tightening around him while your moans turned more into whimpers, jaw slack and your eyes rolled back.

“shitshitshit,” he rushes, certain he’d left indentations in your skin, “gonna cum- gonna cum in you,” making sure that you know what you’d signed up for, not that he had much choice.

his orgasm rocks his body, juddering as he paints your walls, howling as the overwhelming feeling washes over again and again. four days of built up energy all coming out in one.

you shriek, “oh god,” your body turning to putty between his arms, trembling as you cum, “mine.. all mine,” cradling his arm in yours, placing half-assed kisses to his neck.

he was, unashamedly so. no one had nor could ever come close to the way you make him feel. dragging him to the lowest levels of his pride just to boost him right back up when you said shit like that.

eddie doesn’t let go, scared that you’ll come out of your haze and get mad about his failed temporary abstinence.

you shuffle round under his grip anyway, face burning and your hair resembling a birds nest, though completely content as his release drips down your leg.

your palm slaps his cheek playfully, “don’t you ever call me boring again,” squishing his flaming hot skin between your fingers, “because you’ll never touch me again,” unsure of whether you were joking or not.

“yes ma’am,” running his fingers down your side, until they reach the curve of your ass, “that’s a promise.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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rip-quizilla · 2 years ago

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1405 Peach Tree Lane

Pairing: Older!Neighbor!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You like to watch your older, tatted shirtless neighbor now his lawn. He likes to watch you laying by your parents’ pool in those swimsuits that make his mouth water. Eventually, the inevitable happens when he invites you across the street for a drink.

Word Count: 8.2K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, modern au, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, slight breeding kink, spitting, light dom/sub, unprotected sex (reader has an iud), oral sex, p in v sex, shower sex, masturbation in a hot tub

(A/N: This is some of the filthiest shit I think I've ever written. You're welcome. Also I was very quick with the proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you don't.)

💜💜💜

Everyone in the posh gated community of Forest Hills knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane.

The house was beautiful, as were all the houses in the upper-crust neighborhood- but the house wasn’t what people paid attention to.

Every housewife in the neighborhood knew that if they were lucky and timed their morning jog just right, they’d catch a glimpse of the toned, inked-up adonis who lived there while he shirtlessly mowed his lush green lawn.

You might not have done much speaking with the housewives in your parents’ neighborhood, but you knew about 1405 Peach Tree Lane- you had a perfect view of its front lawn from your lounge chair by the pool in your parents’ backyard. Luckily for you, all that separated your backyard from 1405 was a short wrought iron fence and a narrow stretch of road.

You didn’t mind living with your parents during the summers you spent home from college; they gave you plenty of freedom and while they were at work during the day, you got to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, reading a book and soaking up the sun.

As well as soaking up the view of the way that same sunlight glinted off Mr. 1405’s sweaty, ink-riddled skin.

You didn’t speak to him- what would you even say? “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, my favorite part of the day is guessing what your tattoos mean.”? Or maybe, “Hey there neighbor, mind if I count the freckles on your shoulders? It’s for science.”

Eventually, the inevitable happened- he caught you staring.

He didn’t make it awkward, though. In fact, from the way he simply smiled and waved at you, you wondered if he thought your eyes meeting him had just been a coincidence, and you hadn’t been ogling him for the past thirty minutes and some change. You’d smiled back, thankful for your huge sunglasses that hid the way your eyes had widened under his attention, and waved in return.

An even bigger surprise had been that he spoke to you this time.

“That book any good?”

His voice, heavy with labored breathing under the exhaustion from finishing up his lawn work, had caught you completely off guard. You’d laughed nervously, sticking your bookmark between the pages and pushing yourself up from your face-down position on the flattened lounge chair.

“Oh! Ah-ha, uhm, yeah!” you shifted your weight back until you were sitting on spread knees and looking up at the source of the voice. On the other side of your parents’ fence stood Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, sweaty and slightly sunburned on the tops of his shoulders. His curly brown hair had been piled into a messy knot atop his head, and you took note of the details that you hadn’t noticed from far away- a smattering of silver studs that decorated his ears, along with one on his nose. Five o’clock shadow that dusted his jawline. A more detailed view of his tattoos, some of which looked older than others but all of which looked very, very sexy on this man who had so much sex appeal already.

The crinkling of his plastic water bottle as he squeezed about half of it into his mouth filled the silence between you. After a loud gulp he piped up again.

“What’s it about?”

Your brow wrinkled confusedly before you remembered that he had just asked you about your book. “Oh!” you replied dumbly, looking down at the book as if you had completely forgotten that books even existed- looking at him had taken up your entire mental capacity, apparently. “It’s, uh, it’s a memoir! It’s this cool old lady’s life story, she does not hold back, so the narration is pretty hilarious a lot of the time.”

The inked-up Greek god smiled and nodded, eyebrows raising in interest. “That does sound good.” he mused, and his voice took on a slyer tone when he added, “What’s your definition of old, like thirty-five?” He chuckled as if he’d just told a funny joke, but your smile had all but fallen from your face.

“That’s not old,” you replied, not taking the joke, “This author was in her late seventies when she published this book, but even with that being said, this book is just told through such a youthful spirit- it’s easy to forget how old the author is when looking at her words.” You gripped the paperback a little tighter in your sweaty hands. “Plus, old people definitely don’t have the energy to mow their own lawns, and I have a feeling you’re not thirty-five.”

That seemed to catch him off-guard. A surprised laugh escaped him, exploding from his lips before they formed an intrigued grin and his arms crossed over his tattooed chest.

“Oh yeah? How old do I look, then?”

You grinned back, making a show of removing your sunglasses so that you could peer at him with greater focus. “Hmmmmmm…thirty-six?”

Another laugh, this one heartier than the last. “You flatter me, sweetheart.”

God, his voice is like brown sugar.

You tried again. “Forty, then.”

“Older.”

“No way.”

His grin became a smirk. “Are you patronizing me right now?”

You threw up a girl scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I would never.”

He chuckled. “Well, girl scout, I’ll be forty-five next month.”

“I’ll be sure to warn my parents about the rager you’ll be throwing.”

He peered up at your house behind you, like he just now noticed its- and your parents’- existence. “Nah,” he said, “No ragers for me, that ship sailed when I was your age.”

You smiled sweetly, placing your sunglasses atop your head. “At least let me bake you a cake, then, wouldn’t be neighborly to let you have a boring birthday.”

“You’d bake a cake for ‘lil old me, sweetheart?” His tattooed hand splayed over his heart, sweaty and shining in the blaring afternoon sun.

You giggled. You could get used to Mr. 1405 calling you ‘sweetheart’.

“Sure thing, just tell me what name to write in between ‘happy birthday’ and ‘forever young’.”

A flash of dazzling white teeth replied, “Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

That was when you rose a step above the housewives of Forest Hills- to them, he was still Mr. 1405, but to you? He was Eddie Munson.

You entertained yourselves with little conversations here and there whenever Eddie worked out on his lawn. You, always in a swimsuit and him, never wearing a shirt. You would ask him about his tattoos- what they symbolized, which ones he’d drawn himself before they were replicated on his flesh. He would ask you about what you were reading- it was always changing. Sometimes nonfiction, sometimes romance, fantasy, lit fic… he seemed impressed by your insatiable reading habits.

One day, however, he’d been particularly interested in a book whose cover bore a bare-chested gentleman and particularly busty woman in a corset.

“What’s today’s read, girl scout?” Eddie had greeted you with a nod toward the obviously risque reading material and a knowing smirk as he let his arms dangle over the black bars of your fence.

You looked up, glowing from the sweat that’s gathered on your dewy summer skin and smiled tightly. “Oh, just a period romance. Ball gowns, forbidden love, the scandalous touching of hands without gloves on- things like that.”

“From the looks of that cover, I don’t think their hands are the only naked body parts touching in that story.”

You laughed, glancing at the cover as Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You’re probably right, but who knows? I’m only on the second chapter. I’ll keep you posted though.” you punctuated that last part with a wink.

“Oh please do, princess,” Eddie said with a wolfish grin. “I love a good smutty romance novel.”

You gawked. “No way you read this shit, you’re bluffing.”

Eddie raised a hand as if swearing on a bible. “Scout’s honor.” he said, mimicking your swear from the day you’d met.

You shook your head, smiling ear to ear. “You must be the first man I’ve met who openly admits to reading smut, and I respect that.”

Eddie shrugged. “Easiest way to know what women want- they’re literally writing me an instruction manual. It’d be stupid not to read them.”

You bit your bottom lip before you could stop yourself, making a mental note of that little tidbit of information. “And you enjoy them?”

“It’s porn, sweetheart,” he said, gazing at you incredulously. “Who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“It’s porn with a plot.”

“I’m a sucker for a good plot, especially if the plot involves sucking.”

You barked out a laugh. “And one could also argue that it’s more emotional porn than physical.”

“Are you insinuating that I don’t have a heart? Because I’ve got one, princess, and it bleeds, it yearns-”

Eddie pantomimed grasping at his own heart in his chest, putting on a fucking one-man show as he hung onto the fence for dear life as if his heart were truly bleeding out. You laughed- that was something that seemed to happen more when Eddie was around- you laughed more than usual, so much that you found your cheeks aching whenever he walked away.

This time, something else ached as you watched him return to his lawn. As you continued to read, you were acutely aware of the heat between your thighs, the wetness that accumulated as you pictured corseted girls and muscled viscounts making eyes at each other across a sea of dancing courtiers. You imagined yourself, cornered in a rich rose garden bathed in moonlight, struggling to stifle your moans as a man in a tailcoat left a mark on your neck. You felt his hand hiking up your layers of petticoats until it reached your thigh, the only thing separating skin from skin being the white fabric of his gloves. You pictured his eyes, brown and bottomless as he moaned at the feeling of your hands tangled and tugging on his soft brown curls-

Uh oh.

You took a deep breath, bookmarked your page, and slipped into the cold water of the pool. You sincerely hoped that Eddie hadn’t been serious about an update on the smut in your novel; you didn’t exactly want to let slip that at some point, you’d stopped picturing the viscount and started picturing him.

But would he mind? Would he be upset to know that you’d pictured his hands on you, his lips on your pulse, your fingers in his hair?

You weren’t sure he would.

In fact, you had a feeling he might actually picture you in situations that weren’t too different. After all, you weren’t blind- you’d noticed the way his eyes would flit down from your face when the two of you were talking. He didn’t seem to put much effort into hiding his once-overs, his raking gaze that seemed more than pleased by the way your swimsuits hugged your curves, pulled your cleavage together, cut higher on your hip than your shorts ever would. Whenever you pulled yourself up from lying on your stomach, you’d seen how his eyes followed your ass hungrily as it left his line of sight.

That was the moment that you realized- Eddie Munson, more than likely, wanted to fuck you.

And you definitely wanted to fuck him.

So the next time he came over to see you after mowing his lawn, you offered him a beer.

“I’m already halfway through mine,” you said, leaning back to give him a full view of the way the sweat on your breasts shone in the hot sun. “don’t make me day drink alone.”

A salacious grin curled on his plush pink lips. “I could be tempted,” Eddie peered at the cooler beside you. “What are you drinking, sweetheart?”

You opened the cooler so that he could see the six pack of light lagers in shiny green bottles. Eddie wrinkled his nose distastefully. “Alright, young padawan,” he sighed, unlatching the gate to your backyard. “It’s time you learned your first lesson from Master Munson.” He didn’t enter the backyard, simply opened the gate and waited for you to join him outside your parents’ property.

You quirked an eyebrow; this was new territory. That wrought iron fence had always served as a sort of barrier between the two of you, never occupying the same space and keeping each other at arm’s length- flirty banter, but with boundaries.

Now, you smiled shrewdly as you slipped on your flip flops and crossed the threshold into Eddie’s space, following him across the narrow street to his driveway.

“Oh so I’m your student now, Master?” you quipped, launching him into a dark chuckle and a shake of his curls.

“Christ,” he cursed under his breath low enough that he probably thought you hadn’t heard- but you did. “Well, your college friends are obviously shitty teachers if your drink of choice is a basic ass bottle you can grab at the goddamn gas station.”

You scoffed, “Oh, what- are you trying to say you’re one of those pretentious beer snobs who only drinks micro-brewed IPA’s named after bad puns?”

Eddie laughed out loud, smiling ear to ear at you over his shoulder. “Oh that’s exactly what I am, princess!” The harsh sunlight finally relented as the two of you crossed into Eddie’s garage, and you followed him in a beeline to the old refrigerator in the corner opposite from his impressive-looking toolbench.

You nearly moaned with relief when the cool air from the fridge hit you as Eddie opened the door and grabbed a couple of unmarked silver cans from the middle shelf. You eyed them cautiously, which Eddie saw and snorted at when he saw your expression. “Not poisoning you, sweetheart, no need to worry.” He opened a door beside the fridge that you guessed- judging by what you could see past the doorway- led to his kitchen. “A friend of mine is a home-brewer, he gives these to me and the guys for free. Way better than any cookie-cutter shit you’ll find at a college party.” He held the door open for you, nodding his head toward the doorway. “You coming inside? It’s hot as hell out here.”

You hadn’t expected him to invite you into his home; it occurred to you suddenly that you were still only wearing your swimsuit. Smiling shyly, you stepped through the doorway, the chill of the air conditioning rolling goosebumps over your damp skin. Eddie stepped into the kitchen and immediately began opening the cans, handing one to you.

You eyed the can cautiously, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what I’m about to drink?’

He smiled mischievously, inclining his head toward you as he held his can aloft. “First lesson, padawan- trust your master.” He tilted the can in your direction, to which you sighed and tapped your can to his.

Your eyes widened in surprise when the cold, bubbly liquid hit your lips. It wasn’t anything like you were expecting- instead of the tepid wheaty taste that you were used to. At first the drink was tart, but after a second it faded into a fruity dryness that reminded you of white wine. Its flavor was so light that you couldn’t even tell you were drinking beer.

“This is beer?”

Eddie chuckled. “Technically it’s a sour, but yes- it’s a type of beer. Dustin said it was a champagne sour, so if you like wine then hopefully this’d be up your alley.”

You smiled as you took your second sip. “I do like wine.” you murmured, testing the flavors on your tongue. “Like this, too. Your friend ever think about selling what he brews?”

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, laughing as if the question were something funny. “Oh I have no doubt he’ll try to sell it one day, but he’s not going to even think about it until he knows he’s perfected his recipe.”

As you took another sip of the cold drink, you felt another wave of goosebumps run through you. Coincidentally, this was the moment that Eddie fell perfectly silent. You peered over your can- his eyes were fixed on your chest. You became acutely aware that the goosebumps had resulted in your nipples growing so hard, you thought if something-anything- were to accidentally brush against them, you might moan from the sensitivity.

Stifling a smirk, you shivered and hugged your upper arms. “Brrrrr it’s cold in here!” you said coyly, “I guess my body temperature got a little too used to the heat.”

Eddie’s chest heaved slightly at the way your tits bounced and squeezed together when you shivered. He cleared his throat, looking down at the beer can in his hand for a moment. “I’ve got a hot tub, you know,” He spoke up, peering at you to gauge your reaction. “Downstairs. You’re welcome to it.”

You took another sip. “Only if you join me.”

His dark eyes snapped up to yours, lips curling up at one corner. “Yes ma’am.” he said, his voice lowered an octave and a bit huskier than before. You held his eye contact, mirroring his lopsided grin with a charged, heavy-lidded gaze.

Eddie led you to a staircase down the hall and said he’d be right back with a towel for you after he changed into swim trunks.

“Aw, no speedo?” you smirked. Eddie appeared unphased. “Mental note,” he murmured to himself, “the princess is eager to see my thighs.”

You giggled, “There might be more tattoos there I haven’t seen yet,” you countered, “How am I supposed to keep figuring you out if I don’t know the meaning of each and every one?”

Eddie placed his forearm above your head on the wall, leaning into it until he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your hairline. “You know, you seem to spend a lot of time staring at my body, kid-” You bristled at his blatant omission of the nicknames you liked. “-I’m starting to feel objectified.”

You forced the smile from your face, looking up at him defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Munson,” you replied, “-and I’m not a ‘kid’.”

His position didn’t change as his eyes raked over your nearly naked body, drifting from your eyes to your lips and catching on your cleavage. “Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” he whispered, before pushing off the wall. “Hot tub’s already heated, just push off the cover and hit the green button. I’ll be down in a sec.”

And then he was walking down the hall to what you could only assume was his bedroom. For a moment, you thought about following him… but if you were honest with yourself, you were actually pretty curious about this hot tub. So down the stairs you went, carrying a silver can of sour in each hand.

Eddie’s basement was cozy, but he had utilized the space to its full potential. The majority had been filled with workout equipment to create a home gym, the walls lined with floor to ceiling mirrors that created the illusion of a larger space than it actually was. Sitting on stylish wooden slats was the hot tub, topped with a brown leather cover. To the right of the hot tub was a door with a small window that was just at your eye level. Upon closer inspection… yep, that was a sauna. Eddie had a sauna.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you made a mental note to ask Eddie what he did for a living- as far as you could tell, he was the only one who lived here. How did a single guy in his forties have so much money to burn?

Placing yours and Eddie’s drinks down on a nearby surface, you removed the cover from the hot tub and pressed the green button as Eddie had instructed, and settled into the hot, bubbling water. God, it was relaxing. Just then, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Eddie appeared, his hair let down from his normal messy bun so that it fell in dark chocolate curls that cascaded over his shoulders. His swim trunks, simple and black with little white skulls lining the cuffs above his knees, hugged his thighs in a way that made you salivate. Tattoos you'd become all too familiar with danced across his skin, and you suddenly felt the need to taste them.

Eddie smirked when he saw you getting an eyeful without even trying to hide it. “How’s the water?”

You hummed, relaxing further into jets against your back. “Sooooooo nice.” You sighed.

Eddie climbed into the hot tub to join you, making you squeal as he practically fell into the water, splashing you as he submerged his head just enough to wet his hair and shake it out like a golden retriever.

You giggled, doing your best to ensure that your hair wasn’t wet enough to make you look like a wet rat. “I’m starting to think you’re a teenage boy trapped in the body of a middle-aged man.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, tattooed arms stretching out over the edges of the tub as he relaxed into the seat across from you. “Hey now,” he said, voice laced with warning. “Careful with the term middle-aged there, kiddo.”

You matched his gaze, challenging. “Kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s gaze was heavy, cocky as he looked down his nose at you. “Practically a baby.”

You grinned. “That one, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grew in tandem. “Oh, she likes to be ‘baby’, but not ‘kiddo’, huh?”

You leaned back into the water, looking up at the ceiling with a smug smile on your lips. “That’s right, grandpa.”

Suddenly, you felt a tug on your ankle and you were underwater. You emerged, spitting chlorine out of your mouth, struggling to force it from your nose as Eddie’s cackling rang in your ears. You gasped, sputtering in shock as you tried to catch your breath.

“You are a child!” you squealed as he tugged your ankle again- you hadn’t noticed his hold still grasping tightly- not forceful enough to bring you back under the surface but enough to remind you that he could.

“So not a grandpa, then?” Eddie teased, stroking the curve of your ankle with his thumb.

You gritted your teeth together, strategizing. “No, that would be too kind. You’ve got the maturity of a teenager. Luckily for me-”

Using Eddie’s grip on your ankle as leverage, you forcefully pulled yourself forward by your leg and launched yourself right into his lap, bending your knees so that a second later, you were straddling him.

You watched triumphantly as Eddie’s eyes widened, looking up at you with breath that hitched in his throat as you finished your sentence.

“-I know how boys like you think.”

The humor between the two of you dissipated in that instant, Eddie’s eyes blown wide and dark as he watched the way the water in your hair dripped down your neck and between your breasts, which were now inches from his face. If he leaned forward, he could catch that bead of water with his tongue. If he reached up, he could hold your tits in his hands, test their weight. Press them up, squish them together, squeeze…

You felt him growing hard beneath you, and smirked triumphantly. “See?” You said smugly, grinding against him teasingly. “Right on schedule.”

Eddie chuckled, his breathing strained as he shook his head exasperatedly. “Got me all figured out, do you princess?”

You nodded, finding your rhythm as you continued to grind against his hardening cock through his swim trunks. “I think I’m starting to.”

You shivered despite the warmth as Eddie trailed his hand from your ankle up your leg, your hip, your waist…finally resting at the apex of your sternum to splay across your neck. You hadn’t been expecting that- you faltered, breath hitching as he tested out a gentle squeeze and hummed to himself.

“Mmmmm…” He looked you over with passive attention, taking account of the way your eyes widened and your pulse quickened under his thumb. “...you know, I’m starting to figure you out too.” His other hand cupped your hip, pulling you to sit directly on his erection and holding you in place so you couldn’t grind. “You’re used to getting away with shit you know you shouldn’t do, isn’t that right, baby?” You sighed softly in response, pinned into place by his lust-blown eyes. You balanced on a precipice- on one side, obedience, which you knew would satisfy him. On the other, eventual obedience with a little bit more fight; more of a gamble, but you were willing to bet that he would enjoy that best.

“You really thought you could eye-fuck me every damn afternoon,” Eddie said, his hand on your neck moving lower to fondle one of your breasts over your swimsuit. “-and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling under his hand. “I mean…” you drawled, still smiling smugly despite his authoritative tone of voice. “...I was kinda hoping for consequences.” you brought both hands out of the water, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A second passed before Eddie’s hands suddenly grabbed both of your wrists, forcing them behind your back. You gasped, cheeks hot from the water and the position you were in, straddling his lap with both shoulders shoved back to force your breasts front and center. He saw the look in your eyes and leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I can get rough sometimes, baby.” he said, voice low and husky. “Tell me it’s too much at any point and I’ll stop, okay?” You nodded, a shy little mm-hm escaping your bitten lips. Eddie crossed your wrists over each other, holding them behind your back with one hand as his newly free one reached up to caress your cheek.

“Fucking Christ, you’re cute.” he mumbled. “Cute little baby, all alone in her parents’ big house all day, so bored she had to go and be a slut for the neighbor. That right, baby?”

Your eyes were wide and wet, mouth opened in a slight pout as you ground your freed hips on his hard cock once again, whimpering needily. You nodded your head up and down, eager to hear more filthy words tumble from his lips.

Eddie wasn’t satisfied with that. A hand came up to grasp your hair at the base of your neck, tugging on it firmly but not painfully to force your head to nod up and down emphatically. “Use your words, baby, say ‘yes, daddy, I was a slut.’”

You gasped, surprised. You’d never called anyone daddy besides your actual father, and you’d certainly never called anyone that in the bedroom- or a hot tub, for that matter. However, his brazen demand that you call him that while you straddled him like this sent rolling waves of pleasure straight to the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes… daddy…” You struggled against your instinct to be embarrassed, arching your back against your restrained hands and looking down shyly at your cleavage. “...I was a slut.”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, wide and obedient. He was smiling at you, beaming with pride and adoration. His hand slid from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling your face to his. “Good girl, baby.” he praised, “I’m gonna kiss you, is that okay?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

That earned you a chuckle. “So polite, baby girl, good job.”

Eddie’s lips felt like the most comforting thing that a person could feel on their skin. His kiss felt like fresh sheets still warm from the dryer. His tongue was like a strawberry that was perfectly ripe, sweet and wet and a rush of relief. He explored you, he learned you, his lips devoured all they could reach and whenever they couldn’t reach, his tongue took over to fill in the blanks.

As you whimpered and squirmed in his lap, Eddie cooed, “What’s the matter, baby, something wrong with your legs?”

You shook your head, moaning into his mouth. “I need something on my clit, Eddie.”

“Something? You’ll just take anything on that clit baby? Is that what you're saying?”

You panted, straining against his rock hard dick for some kind of friction. He was right, you would take anything. “Yes, please touch me, Eddie.”

He made no move to do so, only looking at you pointedly with his eyebrows raised. When you realized your mistake, you corrected, “Please touch me, daddy.”

He smiled smugly, a cat watching a mouse. “Good girl,” he praised, “but I’m not sure you’ve earned that.”

Your face fell, eyes going wide as your lips formed a full-on pout. “But-” you began to stutter, but Eddie wasn’t finished.

He let go of you, pushing you gently off you and guiding you under the water to one of the seats in the corner of the tub. The jets coming off it were strong, nearly too much on your back as you turned to sit, but Eddie stopped you before you could settle into the seat.

“Princess, I want you to keep your knees open and ride your pussy on that jet stream until you cum.”

Your jaw dropped open. Whipping your chin over your shoulder to look at him in his seat opposite you, you stared and waited for him to specify or maybe apologize for misspeaking- there’s no way you heard him right. But then he repeated himself, and you realized that yes, you had.

“Press your pussy up against that jet stream under the water, and make yourself cum. Don’t use your hands. Don’t rush. I want you to fall apart in my hot tub, and I’m going to stroke my dick while I watch you do it. That okay, sweetheart?”

You were learning a lot of new information about your neighbor today.

You smiled devilishly over your shoulder at him, taking in the sight of him lounging in the opposite corner of the tub as he took in the sight of you. “You’re a kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?”

Eddie reached across the tub and wound an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss. “Yeah, I am.” he murmured into your lips before pushing you back toward the jets. “Now make yourself cum, I want you tight.”

He laughed at the pathetic little whimper that you let slip involuntarily as you situated yourself against the jet stream. You balanced your weight on your knees, spreading your legs enough to open your pussy further inside your swimsuit. Once the pulsing stream of water made contact with your clit, your automatic impulse was to flinch away; the stream was strong, almost too strong. However, with a little shifting and repositioning, you eventually found an angle that pulled a moan from your mouth that sounded almost pornographic.

“That’s it, baby girl,” you heard Eddie’s rough voice behind you, and you couldn’t help but sneak a peak over your shoulder at him. Eddie sat with legs spread open and one arm slung over the lip of the tub, his other hand palming the erection you knew was only growing harder over his swim trunks. This told you he was a patient man, a man who liked to be teased a little before taking what he wanted. A man who liked to play with his food before he ate it.

You could play, too.

You pulled your eyebrows together, pouting your lips the way you’d seen him react to earlier. “Am I doing it right for you, daddy?” You moved your hips up and down against the jet, putting on a little show for him.

Eddie raised a brow, amused. “I don’t think I can answer that question for you, sweetheart.” he said, sighing heavily with pleasure as he tilted his head this way and that to take you in from every angle. “Don’t worry about me, baby, just make yourself feel good.”

You smiled shyly, nodding in response and turning your attention back to the jets. You maneuvered your hips against them, grinding on the strong jetstream as it hit your clit at angles that you didn’t even know existed. You lost yourself in the sensation, letting your eyes fall closed and humming little sounds to yourself as your heart rate picked up, that familiar pleasure bubbling up in your lower belly as your movements grew faster and more desperate.

Eager to see if Eddie was enjoying himself as much as you were, you glanced over your shoulder to look at him. What you saw was breathtaking- Eddie, his wet curls clinging to his dewy skin, muscles flexing under his tattoos as he fisted his cock underwater. You couldn’t see it clearly due to the raging bubbles, but the flesh-colored underwater blur was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. You had known he would jack off to you- he’d outright told you he planned to- but seeing it was enough to turn you on so much that it became the thing that pushed you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!”

You moaned, mouth hanging open as you rode out your orgasm against the harsh stream of the jets, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the physical feeling and the intense eye contact that you held with Eddie the entire time as your body gyrated and spasmed. He watched you with hungry eyes, lapping up the scene in its entirety and committing every second to memory.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, keep fucking that jet, baby.”

You whimpered, hips jerking away from the stream as it hit your clit at an angle that was a little too intense, and your limp, still-needy body floated over to Eddie. He chuckled, still stroking his cock lightly in the warm water. “Aw, I’m sorry baby, was that too much?”

You shook your head, still eager for him- he’d barely even touched you, and yet you were so desperate for this man. “No, I can take more.”

His eyes had a darkness to them that made your breath hitch. “How much can you take, sweetheart?”

You moved to straddle your knees on either side of one of his thighs, not close enough to grind against his cock, but certainly in a perfect position to rub your pussy along his leg, teasing him. “I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, daddy.”

A low groan sounded from deep in Eddie’s chest. “You might regret saying that one, babe.”

You couldn’t resist matching his warning with a challenge. “Bring it on.” you said sweetly, and it incited a little chuckle in him. He reached back and pressed a button on the hot tub, causing all of the bubbles to stop.

“Get out, dry off.” he said, nodding to the neatly folded towels he’d placed beside the hot tub. “You look like you could use a shower.”

You stayed put, confused. “You… but…”

He cut you off, cupping his wet hands against your face. You could feel the pads of his fingers on your cheeks, wrinkled from prolonged time under the water’s surface. “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot you don’t like following instructions unless you know you’re getting something out of it.” You scoffed at his condescending tone, but all he did was smile. “What I meant to say was- get out. Dry off. I’m going to fuck you in my shower. Mmkay?”

Your eyes widened, excited by his words and elated by a strange submissive, post-orgasmic euphoria. “Okay.” you replied, but when you saw his testy look in response you quickly amended, “Okay daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The two of you dried off before heading back upstairs. Eddie let you down the hall to his bedroom, which you were sure was filled with so many interesting mementos on the walls that you were sure it would take you hours to study all of it. The first thing to catch your eye was the golden record, framed and mounted beside his dresser. When Eddie saw you looking at it, he supplied an answer without waiting for you to ask.

“Ever heard of a band called Corroded Coffin?”

You searched your brain but came up empty. “No, I don’t think I have.”

Eddie chuckled to himself, like you’d just participated in a joke you weren’t in on. “Most people haven’t. But I bet you’ve heard the song Upside Down on the radio, yeah?” He hummed a couple bars of the chorus, which you recognized instantly.

“Oh yeah! I love that song!”

Eddie grinned. “‘Preciate it, babe.”

Shocked, you glanced up at the record and back to him. “Wait, you wrote that song?”

He shrugged as if to brush it off, but you could tell he was proud. “It was a group effort, my band and I wrote and recorded it together. After that, though, when the offers for record deals and tours and shit started pouring in, it became clear to most of the band members that this wasn’t what they wanted to do for the rest of their lives- band broke up on good terms, we just had some differences when it came to future plans.” He reached up and stroked the frame affectionately with his thumb. “But one-hit-wonder money was still enough to get my name out there, make some smart investments. I’m a music producer now.”

So that’s how he made all this money. The big empty house made sense now. “That’s pretty cool, actually.” you said, smiling at Eddie. You relished the sensation of his hands as they slid around your waist.

“You wanna see something even cooler?”

Before you could answer, Eddie was scooping you up into his arms and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed, laughing as his palm hit your ass cheek with a loud smack! He carried you into his bathroom, placing you on his vanity counter before kissing the laughing smile right off your face. You felt his hands as they worked your bathing suit off you, freeing your breasts from the confines of the damp fabric. Eddie wasted no time, pulling one of your tits into his hand and encircling your nipple with his mouth, sucking sensually. You moaned, hands fisting into his hair. He only left your skin to turn around and turn on the shower, giving the water a chance to heat up.

Once the bathroom had sufficiently filled with steam, Eddie picked you up from the counter, pulling your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You kissed him greedily, wetly, and hungrily as he walked the two of you into his spacious tiled shower, which was larger than your dorm room closet back at school.

You relaxed your legs around him in a silent ask for Eddie to put you down, which he obliged. The moment your feet hit the wet tiled floor, you began to sink to your knees until…

You snorted.

“Why do you still have your swim trunks on?”

Eddie had taken the time to take off your bathing suit, but you hadn’t even realized that even after carrying you into the shower, he hadn’t even taken a second to undress himself.

He looked down, noticing this for the first time, same as you. “I, uh… I don’t know. I was-” he flashed you a smirk that was equal parts embarrassed and sexy. “-preoccupied, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you knelt before him, now eye-level with the drawstring of his swim trunks. “Well let me fix that, then.” you said softly, working your delicate fingers into the waistband and pulling his trunks down until they hit the floor.

God. He was a sight to behold. And you were right, he did have thigh tattoos. They were large, twisting images of hellish creatures, undoubtedly older but still in good shape since- judging by the paleness of the skin they decorated- they probably never saw the light of day.

You reached up, lightly tracing them as you turned your gaze to his cock. It was at full mast, eager and waiting for your mouth to encircle it and, hopefully, make Eddie moan your name.

Which he did.

The way your lips covered the head of his cock, the way your tongue generously licked the shaft under, over, around, the way your hands were warm and welcoming as they lightly played with his balls- all of it made him moan, gasp, groan your name. He called you baby, called you princess, moaned and pulled your hair as he fucked your mouth, and you just about burst into flames when he shoved his cock so far down your throat that you swallowed on it accidentally, pulling a growled “Goddamnit, sweetheart, fuck-” from his lips.

When he pulled you off his dick by your hair, his eyes were humorless and hungry. He crouched down, leveling your eyes under the hot water from the showerhead.

“Are you on birth control, sweet girl?” he asked.

You nodded, “I have an IUD.”

He kissed your forehead firmly, one hand still fisted in your hair. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I can grab a condom, they’re right over there in the cabinet under my sink.” he continued, nodding vaguely in the sink’s direction. “But baby, I have been fantasizing about the way your pussy’s gonna feel for a long ass time and I hate to ask you this, and you’re allowed to say no, but-”

“Fuck me raw Eddie.” You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. “I fantasize about it too. I think about it every day, I touch myself to you before going to sleep and wake up wishing your cock was the thing waking me up. When I’m lying by the pool reading those stupid smutty novels and some lord is fucking a lady in waiting up against a wall, I can’t focus on it! I can’t because I want it to be you and I want to feel your cock inside me, and I want it to be your cum that drips down my thighs and your lips on my-”

He cut you off there, splaying his free hand on your neck and kissing you until you were laid horizontally on the hot, wet floor. He climbed on top of you, and in a moment your mouth fell open at the sensation of his hard cock splitting you open from the inside. He didn’t spend a moment waiting for you to adjust to his size or murmuring praises into your ear- he knew you wanted all of him, and you knew he wanted all of you, and that was all you needed. You moaned, you practically screamed, and above all you clutched him for dear life.

“Dirty girl,” Eddie growled into your ear, thrusting into you deep and hard. “Dirty books, dirty mind-”

He leaned back so that his face was directly above yours and grabbed your cheeks, squeezing to force your mouth open. Your lips parted, and Eddie spat harshly into your mouth before shoving your mouth closed around it. His eyes were feral, wild with lust and dominance. “Swallow.” he commanded, you obeyed in an instant. He felt your throat moving against his hand and smiled deviously. “Dirty mouth, too.”

He picked up his pace, spearing into you at a pace so relentless that you couldn’t even keep track of the noises coming out of your mouth- an incoherent stream of sounds and swear that would have made a sailor blush. He matched your dirty noises with his own, all the while dicking you down into his shower floor as your brain went haywire at the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin that echoed through the bathroom.

“God, this pussy is so fucking tight,” Eddie groaned, “good girl, cumming so hard for daddy back there. You gonna cum on my cock this time?”

You moaned, “Need something on my clit, daddy.”

Eddie pecked your lips with his own, and the way it made your heart skip a beat was like a reward. “Good girl, always tell me what you need, okay?”

You nodded, smiling giddily from the sudden subby euphoria. “Okay, daddy.” You made a mental note that kissing Eddie Munson while his cock was inside you gave you your new favorite kind of high.

Eddie reached down and began drawing small, soft circles with his fingertip on your clit. The richly gentle sensation was decadent, pulling deeper, louder moans from you as Eddie continued to fuck you. “Oh I feel you getting tighter, baby girl, that feel good?”

“Yes!” you practically yelled it.

“Yes what?” He taunted.

“Yes daddy!” you cried, arching your back against the tile. He was fucking you ruthlessly, ravaging you mentally, and the way his dirty words melted into you made your brain go so hazy that you weren’t sure if your vision was clouding or if it was just the steam in the air.

Your release was growing closer, that heat in your core coiling tighter and tighter, ready to burst with pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, daddy.” you whined.

Eddie’s dick hit you in that perfect spot inside over and over, and you leaned your face against his hand as he cupped your cheek affectionately. “Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over daddy’s dick?” You pouted, nodding ‘yes’ in response. Eddie smiled at the way you could be so cute and so filthy at the same time- he fucking loved it. “That’s probably gonna make me cum, sweetheart, you want that? That pussy’s gonna grip my cock so tight that it fills you with cum, huh?”

You were whimpering and pouting and letting the sluttiest little sobs fall from you now. “Yes, daddy, fill me with cum, please!”

“You want me to fill you with cum? Fuck all that cum inside you?”

“Yes!”

“Yes what, sweetheart, gotta tell me whose dick you’re cumming on-”

“Daddy!” you cried, “Daddy’s dick, I’m cumming on daddy’s dick!”

“Fuuuck, yes, cum on daddy’s dick you little slut-”

Eddie’s filthy words tumbled from his lips as your pussy pulsed around him, fluttering walls squeezing him tight from the aching pleasure that shot through you. His cum filled you, and the size of his load reflected just how long it had been since he’d cum into anything that wasn’t his own hand. When he finally pulled out, a stream of both your releases oozed out of your hole and onto the floor. Eddie stared at it, fascinated, and he silently used his finger to catch the milky liquid and push it back into your hole. You whimpered, overly sensitive and puffy, your pussy lips inflamed and screaming, but Eddie was gentle as he sheathed his finger completely inside you, ensuring that his seed stayed exactly where he’d put it in the first place.

He pulled you up to a sitting position, smiling gently. “Hi.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Hi.” you giggled, a giant smile stretching out across your face, blissed-out and more than satisfied.

Eddie stroked your wet hair out of your face, gazing down at you adoringly. “I’m sorry if that was a little… much,” he winced. “I may have gotten carried away, usually I would talk to you to see if that kind of stuff would be okay, but I was just so fired up-”

“Eddie,” you interrupted softly. “I loved it.”

He grinned, grateful and relieved. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie pulled you against him, your body fitting itself nicely against his naked chest as water poured over the two of you from above while you sat holding each other on the floor of his shower. He sighed, completely and utterly content. “Yeah.”

***

The rest of the summer days in your parents’ neighborhood went like this:

Wake up imagining what you and Eddie would do today. Touch yourself when necessary.

Do whatever chores needed doing around the house, sometimes making batches of lemonade for Eddie when you knew he would be working on his lawn that day.

Lounge by your pool and read a book- this part hadn’t changed.

Spend the rest of the afternoon at Eddie’s. These afternoons usually consisted of activities like discussing the whatever book you were reading, drinking whatever strange new beer Dustin had come up with, and fucking each other’s brains out.

The next month, Eddie celebrated his birthday. He didn’t throw a rager (true to his word) but he did have a little get-together. To your surprise, he invited you.

You got to meet his friends, their kids, their dogs- and see the way Eddie smiled for hours without reprieve when they were around. This whole summer, you’d been figuring this man out bit by bit, but it wasn’t until that night that you truly felt like you knew him.

You baked him a cake, as promised. Three layers of funfetti sponge, vanilla frosting and decorated with oreo crumbs and rainbow letters that spelled out “Happy birthday, Eddie, forever young”.

He wasn’t this way with the rest of the neighbors. To them, he would always be Mr. 1405 Peach Tree Lane, but with these people? With his friends? He was Eddie Munson. Now, you were included in that group of people who were allowed to know him, and how wonderful he really was.

You felt so incredibly lucky that you were a part of that.

#eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #neighbor!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #modern au

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scarlet-bitch · 4 months ago

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"Do the Things You Said You'd Do to Me"

3.7k Eddie Munson X fem!reader, no use of Y/N, little to no description of reader, 18+ explicit content-porn with plot, fluff. No upside down, 90s AU set in '97 Eddie & Reader are mid twenties.

A/N: 90% of the time I'll hear a song and immediately think - I want to write about this. It's not always the song's actual theme but specific lyrics. This idea came to me while listening to Sailor Song by Gigi Perez. Feedback/likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading & as always, I hope you enjoy! XO, Scarlet 💋

Eddie's flavor was a mix of tobacco and cinnamon. He could brand it 'red squared,' the taste of Marlboro Reds and Red Hots always lingering on his tongue. Occasionally there was a hint of weed, but he didn't often get high with you. You asked why once, and he mumbled something like, "You get me high enough already."

It was undeniably cheesy but he meant it. You had him dizzy in love, so he liked to be completely cognizant, fully immersed in the moment with you. Unfortunately, right now, he couldn't be present at all.

Eddie had been on tour for a month, with three weeks still to go. You had the pleasure of going to the first few shows, but you had your own job so you were stuck in Indiana while your boyfriend was on the road.

Aside from a few brief phone calls -soft whispers of 'I love you,' 'I miss you,' and dirty vows of what’s to come- you two hadn't spoken while he's been away. You hadn’t been apart this long since before you got together and it was driving you crazy. You didn't just miss him—you craved him.

Craved him so much so, that this past week, you considered picking up a cigarette habit. If that wasn't already pathetic, you actually did buy a pack of Red Hots, stashing them in your nightstand for your late night indulgence. It wasn't enough to think about him—you needed to taste him.

You'd feel ashamed if it wasn't exactly the sort of thing Eddie would love to hear—how desperate you were for him. And god, were you desperate.

That's how you ended up vibrator in hand, Red Hots melting on your tongue, losing yourself in thoughts of Eddie. His pretty mouth-it held the filthiest promises, yet they spilled so sweetly. After the words would leave him he'd always smirk, corners of his plush lips drawing your gaze to his big doe eyes. Those godforsaken eyes-constantly feigning innocence when in reality they were a gateway to a deep abyss that threatened to consume you and without a doubt, you'd gladly allow it.

You're fully engrossed in your fantasy of imagining his gaze boring into your own while his sinful mouth's on your cunt. A lethal combination that always had your back arching off the bed. You could feel the orgasm building, the vibrations teasing you, getting you right to the edge, and then just like that-it's gone. You're snapped out of the moment by a loud ruckus from the apartment hallway. You click the vibrator off, straining to listen, hoping it's just your imagination.

A moment passes, and you don't hear anything else. The walls are thin, so you toss it up to your neighbor’s rowdy friends, who always acted as if no one else lives in the building. You try to refocus on thoughts of Eddie, but just as you click the vibrator back on, the noise came again.

Goddamn horror movies. You shut off the vibrator, tossing it aside, face flushed and beads of sweat gathering at your hairline as you let out a frustrated sigh. This is exactly why Robin offered for you to sleepover after your movie night earlier that evening. You should have accepted her invitation, because now, alone in your apartment, you can’t shake the feeling of Ghost Face lurking in the hallway.

The blissful knot that had been forming has been replaced with one of pure anxiety. As you can faintly hear what sounds like someone shuffling at your doorway. You want to get up from your bed, shut and lock your bedroom door but you're frozen in place. Panicked and second guessing if you even locked the deadbolt.

When you hear the familiar click of your front door, you know that you didn't. Heart racing in your chest as the sound of footsteps enter your apartment. Your stomach drops, and before you can plan your next move—

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie’s voice rings out.

You shot out of bed, and bolted from your room. There he was, standing in your living room, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The glow of the nightlight illuminating him, showcasing that smug grin of his. "Surprise!"

“What the fuck, Eddie?” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath as you walked toward him. “That was terrifying! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

He chuckled, “That would defeat the purpose of the surprise, babe.”

“Surprise?! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He laughed, stepping closer, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry for scaring you, baby. Harrington warned me you might be jumpy.”

“Um, who the hell wouldn’t be?” You laughed, then pulled away from his embrace. “Wait—Steve was in on this? Was Robin? Don’t tell me those assholes let me watch people get sliced up for two hours knowing you were going to break in!” You exclaimed, flinging your hands out with a scoff of disbelief. “How did any of you think this was a good idea?” You added as you made your way toward your end table.

"First of all, it's not breaking in when I have a key, and it's not like this was the plan, baby! I was supposed to be at Robin's hours ago, but my flight got delayed. They didn’t want to spoil it," he said, tossing the duffle bag off his shoulder. "I've been planning this for weeks. Robin said she tried to convince you to spend the night. She told me you insisted that Scream didn’t even scare you.”

“Well, it didn’t!” you defended as your fingers found the knob of the lamp, twisting it on. “Not while watching it, at least. At midnight when someone's at my door, that's a different story.” You laughed, turning back to him.

“Now that you know it’s just me, are ya still scared?” he asked, with his head cocked to the side and a devilish grin on his lips.

“A little,” you smirked. “The boyfriend's the killer after all.”

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully as he began walking towards you. For the first time tonight, he was fully taking you in: ruffled hair, rosy cheeks, pebbled nipples against the thin material of your oversized night shirt.

"Fuck, sweetheart you look..." His breath hitched, his jeans suddenly feeling too tight. "Did I interrupt something?"

"As a matter of fact, before your grand entrance I was quite busy.. didn't even get to finish." You whispered all sultry and sweet.

He wet his lips with his tongue, a soft swallow as he drank you in. "Guess I got here at the perfect time, huh?"

You nodded as you closed the distance between you both, arms snaking around his neck as his hands came to rest on your lower back, pulling you close, bodies pressed against each other. You could feel how hard he was already. With this proximity, Eddie wasted no time connecting his lips to yours. Within seconds his tongue was eagerly pushing its way into your mouth.

There it was. Smokey cinnamon hitting your tastebuds- heavy on the cinnamon as the candy coating on your own tongue amplified it. It was everything you'd been missing.

You couldn't help but moan into Eddie's mouth, tongues colliding in needy haste. Eddie's hands moved lower, sliding over your backside before bunching up the fabric of your oversized shirt and gripping the fat of your bare ass. He let out a hiss, as you pulled back with his lower lip caught between your teeth dragging it out slowly before letting go.

"Eds," you whispered, eyelashes fluttering up at him. "Would you please, do all the things you said you'd do to me."

A gravelly moan escaped him, the moment the words left your lips. "Come on," he said, taking your hand and guiding you toward your room.

As you both entered your bedroom, you took a seat on your bed as Eddie stood against the doorframe. His eyes landed on the box of Red Hots on the nightstand, raising an eyebrow at you, a teasing smirk on his lips. "I thought I caught that on your tongue."

"Yeah," you giggled. "I... I missed you a lot and I just, I needed to taste you."

Eddie watched as you moved the vibrator that was next to you on your bed, to set it on your nightstand. The full picture of what you'd been up to before his arrival, was now at the forefront of his mind. His cock was straining harder against his jeans as he watched you lean back against your pillows, patiently awaiting his next move.

Before tonight, it had been 27 long days since he last saw you, touched you, fucked you. In less than 36 hours, he would be back on a plane, and another 21 days would stretch before he saw you again. He needed to absorb every detail of this moment—the soft, warm light casting a glow across your features, the hunger in your eyes, and the way your chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. Your oversized shirt enveloped you, concealing the skin he ached to touch. You looked breathtakingly beautiful, and knowing you had been just as desperate for him made his heart flutter.

"What was my needy girl thinking about while she touched herself, huh?" He asked making his way toward the bed.

"Oh y'know, just your pretty face between my thighs."

"Mmm, my favorite place to be," he groaned, dropping to his knees. His arms came up to your calves, urging you closer to the edge of the bed. Once you were settled, Eddie hoisted your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs. He slid his right hand up, eager fingers pulling the material of your oversized shirt aside, exposing your glistening cunt. A guttural moan escaped his lips at the sight, the sound making your stomach flip.

"Shit," he sighed. "You're fucking dripping."

You let out a soft hum, anticipation gnawing at you as you watched him take a bite of the soft flesh of your left inner thigh, causing your breath to hitch.

Eddie trailed open mouthed kisses up the expanse of your thigh, his hot breath fanning over your core before he moved to your right thigh, giving it the same treatment until his mouth hovered over where you longed for him most.

"Please," you whimpered.

"If I remember correctly, I believe I said I'd tease you first."

"Eddie..." you whined, frustration lacing your tone. "Please don't. I've waited long enough."

Eddie took pleasure in teasing you, reveling in the intoxicating game of cat and mouse. He delighted in how you'd squirm and beg for his touch, your desperation only fueled his desire. But right now, there was absolutely no way he could drag this out.

"Don't worry, I'm only kidding. Been dreaming of savoring this pussy for weeks," leaning forward and sliding his tongue slowly through your folds.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," you bucked your hips up instinctively, urging his tongue to press firmer as it fluttered back and forth against your clit. "Yes, right there, fuck."

The vibrations that reverberated from his mouth as he moaned against your cunt made you let out a harsh hiss. He worked quickly, lapping at your clit with an intensity that had your eyes squeezed shut from the sensation. Your mouth went slack, breathy gasps escaping as you realized how easily you were putty under Eddie's touch. In just minutes, you were already on the brink of your orgasm.

You couldn't come yet, not when you hadn't fully taken in the sight before you. Forcing your eyes open, you watched as Eddie devoured your cunt. His big doe eyes looked up at you, lust blown -he looked so beautiful like this. Your fingers threaded through his hair as his palms gripped your thighs, pressing into the doughy flesh.

His tongue moved lower, gliding toward your entrance, and you couldn't help but rut your hips against his mouth, fucking yourself on his tongue. Eddie stayed there for a moment before swirling back to your clit, sucking harshly. He couldn't speak with his mouth full, but those pleading eyes told you everything: he wanted you to come all over his mouth.

"Yes, just like that, Eddie! Missed this so fucking much... ahh, ahhh, missed yo-fuck, ohmygod, I'm go-" You let out a silent scream, as pleasure overtook you. Your legs clamped around Eddie's face, hands moving to squeeze your breasts as he continued to suck your clit. Your back arched off the bed, your entire body quaking from the release of your orgasm. Eddie kept licking at your sensitive cunt, his tongue drawing out every last shiver of pleasure as you struggled to catch your breath as you came down.

In your blissful haze, you watched as he slowly removed himself from between your legs, undressing at the foot of your bed.

He looked so beautiful, you were enamored by it. Your gaze following his tattoos, like a game of connect the dots. Admiring each of them as if this were the first time you were seeing them. You lingered on his most recent addition—a tattooed kiss above his left hip bone. You had a habit of kissing him there, and one day, after leaving a lipstick print, Eddie was so in love with how it looked, he decided to immortalize it in ink.

While you loved it, you also worried he might regret such an impulsive, permanent choice. He only smiled, assuring you, "I’ll forever be yours, so it might as well be branded on me."

"What're you thinking about, sweetheart?" Eddie asked pulling you out of your thoughts, his fingers toying with the waist band of his boxers.

"How pretty you are," you smiled, sitting up and leaning forward, replacing his hands with your own. Your lips brushed over the tattoo, eliciting a shudder from Eddie. You trailed soft kisses across his abdomen to his right hip bone, then slowly pulled down his boxers.

Your breath caught as his cock was revealed -so pretty, hard, and leaking pre cum. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip, before teasing it with slow, soft licks.

"Christ," Eddie muttered through gritted teeth.

Your fingernails sank into his hips, sure to leave marks as you pulled him closer, taking his tip into your mouth and sucking.

"Ahh fuck," he moaned,

Normally, you'd bob your head, eager to take him fully. But the ache between your thighs was back, more intense than before.

You pulled back, eyes glistening-not from the act, but from the pure desperation you were suddenly feeling.

"I want more," you whined as you moved your hand to stroke his cock. "Want you to fuck me, Eds."

"Is that what'ya want," his hand coming to cup your cheek. "My cock inside you?"

You tightened your grip on his length, a desperate whine falling from your lips as you nodded. "Please."

Eddie inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your voice pleading for him. Your words dripped with honey, sweet and melodic. "Lay back for me, sweetheart, and take off your shirt. I want to see all of you."

You obeyed, your heart racing as he reached for a condom from your nightstand. After rolling it over his length, he climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees between your spread legs.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands caressing your body, lips kissing the soft skin of your tummy and trailing up toward your breasts.

A chorus of moans escaped you as he suckled and nipped at your breasts. He moved slowly, working his way up to your collarbone and along your neck, every kiss a tantalizing reminder of what you craved.

You grabbed his face, crashing your lips against his in a hungry frenzy of teeth and tongue. "Eddie, stop teasing," you urged breathlessly, feeling him line himself up at your entrance.

He couldn't help himself, he'd been satiated enough from devouring you earlier, he had to taunt you a little. "That's half the fun, baby. Love seeing you so worked up," he growled, his hands squeezing your hips.

"Far past worked up."

He chuckled, "Yeah? Tell me how badly you want it."

"Don't want, need. Need you to fill me, Eddie."

"And I will, baby, I will. But it's been a while, maybe I should take my time?"

"No, I can handle it," you insisted.

"You can also be patient though, right?" He tsked softly, pressing the tip inside slowly. Your breath hitched as you mewled at the sensation.

A stream of praise tumbled from his lips, barely coherent as you saw stars from the stinging pleasure of his cock. He tantalized you with slow half thrusts, and you needed more. Arching your back, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Eddie thrived on how needy you were, how much you made him feel desired. All he wanted was to give you everything you craved. He inched deeper, stretching you, filling you completely, both of you gasping at the sensation. He stayed still for a moment, savoring the tight warmth around him. "You feel so goddamn good," he groaned, beginning to move.

You were nearly in tears, eyes blown wide as Eddie found a steady pace, your nails now clawing at his back. "Feels perfect," you cried out.

"Sure does, sweetheart. Like you were made just for me," he groaned.

"All for you."

Eddie leaned closer, his left forearm braced against the bed, while his right pressed against your chest his hand gripping your neck gently. Your legs fell open, falling to the sides of his torso, over his spread thighs as he continued to thrust into you, at an increased pace.

The tension coiled tighter, building faster than you expected. You grasped his bicep with your right hand, the other clutching his forearm that was on your chest.

His face hovered over yours, gaze locked onto each others. The lust that once filled his eyes had transformed into something softer—half lidded and glistening, a reflection of pleasure and the surge of emotions swirling between you.

"Missed you so fucking much," he breathed removing his grip from your neck, to instead lace his fingers with yours and rest your hand against the mattress as he continued to pound into you.

You nodded your head, rendered absolutely speechless by the pure ecstasy his cock was giving you.

The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, breathy gasps and lewd moans, as the two of you continued to lose yourselves within each other.

"That's it, baby. I can feel you, you're so close," Eddie coaxed. "Let go for me, I'm right there with you."

You let your orgasm wash over you, Eddie's thrusts never letting up even as he came with you.

As the height of pleasure dulled, he rolled his hips lazily, his forehead pressing against yours as your lips met in a soft collision.

"I love you," you murmured.

"I love you too," he replied, rolling onto his side to lie next to you.

You cuddled for a while, Eddie's fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he shared stories about the road and the gigs he's played. You caught him up on your job and what life had been like in Hawkins since he’d been gone, telling him all the details about your movie night at Robin's. You even joked that if it had been Ghost Face who "broke in" tonight, as long as you got the same treatment you just received, you wouldn't have minded.

"Halloween '97, here I come. No tricks, all treats—I’ll fuck you with the mask on," he teased.

You playfully nudged him, and he shrugged. "Just saying, I'm open to it," he laughed, reaching over you to grab the Red Hots from your nightstand, popping some into his mouth.

He was beaming at you, eyes bright and wide, sucking hard on the candy in his cheek. "I'll be right back," he said, hopping out of bed and throwing on his boxers.

"Where are you going?"

"I have something for you," he called as he headed into the living room.

You sat up, the comforter pulled over you, eagerly awaiting his return.

"It's not much," he said as he walked back into your room, arms behind his back. "And don't be alarmed that it’s been used."

"Okay," you replied, cocking your head to the side, eyebrow raised with a questioning smile.

Eddie made his way back onto the bed, sitting in front of you. "You weren't alone in going out of your way for uh... reminders," he laughed, revealing a bottle of your favorite perfume. "Sleeping on a bus is rough, okay? The motels aren't any better, and I just needed... you."

A soft giggle escaped your lips. "Oh my god, Eddie."

"I sprayed my pillow. The bus driver gave the me idea, said his wife sends him with her perfume every time he's away. The downside was that it made me increasingly horny. Like, I was popping a boner every time my head hit the pillow."

You were choking on your laughter.

"It's not funny, baby. Do you know how hard it is to jack off on a tour bus? Everyone can hear everything! I had to smother myself with the pillow to keep myself from fucking moaning but that only made it worse. The scent was just intensified, and felt like my head was just buried in your neck while I fucked my hand and I'd just moan louder."

You laughed, heart swooning that he'd been as much of a mess as you. "Well, at least we're both terrible at being apart."

"Tragically lovesick, I think they call it," he murmured, a teasing smile on his lips as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to yours.

"When's your flight back?"

"Sunday at noon," he replied.

You glanced at the clock on wall. "So we've got 34 hours left, and I if I remember correctly," you teased using his own words from earlier. "I asked you to do the things you said you would."

"Right," he said a cheeky grin on his lips. "And I think I told you on our last phone call, that when I saw you, I'd make you cum once for every day we'd been apart. Is that right?"

"Mhmm. Only 25 more to go," you added.

"We better get to it then," he smirked.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson au #stranger things #stranger things au #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #scarlet writes #eddie munson fluff #xo scarlet #rockstar!eddie munson

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 3 months ago

Text

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 15

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14

Steve wishes it was raining. Instead, it’s a crisply cold day, but the sun’s shining brightly, illuminating Steve’s dour mood as he walks, unsure of where he’s even going.

The quarry’s miles away, holding his car and house keys hostage. So, he walks, and walks, and walks, aimless.

Chrissy’s probably still at Eddie’s, reading him the riot act, Jeff at her side, so she’s out. He doesn’t have anyone else—Tommy and Carol long since moving on to greener pastures, and no one on the basketball team would go out of their way to spit on him if he was on fire.

There’s always Nancy, but they’re ghosts in each other’s stories now, ships passing in the night.

He should walk to the quarry to pick up his car, and go home to his quiet, lonely house.

He calls Robin at the first pay phone he passes, digging around in his pocket for loose coins as he dials a number he hopes is hers. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Shit, Steve?” her tired voice turns frantic. “Are you oka—”

“Robin,” he cuts in, voice cracking just enough to shut her up. “Can I come over?”

The other line’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of her muffled breathing assuring Steve she hadn’t hung up. “Robin?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry!” she cries, then rattles off her address. “When will you be here?”

It’s a small town, so it only takes Steve a second to reorient himself, figure out the quickest path from where he is to Robin. “About fifteen minutes?” he guesses, not used to accounting for walking time.

Robin sighs, “oh, good,” that frantic edge finally bleeding out of her voice. “Hurry up, dingus, okay?”

He runs out of time before he can reply, phone kicking the dial tone back at him until he hangs it back up, the barrel of the phone rattling as he puts it back on the dirty receiver.

The sun’s low in the sky when he finally stands in front of an unassuming house with a dingy white door. He’s numb, tired to his bones as he knocks quietly on the front door.

Robin flies out, arms wrapping around Steve in a tight hug before he even realizes she’s there. Steve shudders and buries his face in her hair, hands shaking as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her further into his chest.

She pats his back awkwardly but doesn’t let go as she asks, “you okay, dingus?”

“No,” Steve murmurs, afraid of how his voice will come out if he talks any louder. “Can I come in?”

Robin lets go immediately, but Steve holds on a second longer, not wanting to lose her warmth. “You can hug me again in my room, Steve,” she says, arms awkwardly held down at her sides.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with one final squeeze to her middle.

When he finally lets go, fingers flexing in the cold air, Robin leads him into her house. She pulls him through the living room and up a set of stairs too quickly for Steve to get much of an impression past lived in and homey.

“I’ll be in my room!” Robin calls just before she shuts the door behind them, muffling what must be her mom’s response.

Robin’s bed’s messy, and there’s clothes all over her floor. The walls are covered in posters of bands he’s never heard of, pictures cut out of magazines, and little post-it note reminders.

While he gawks at his surroundings, Robin pulls him to her bed and pushes on his shoulders until he sits down on it. She then proceeds to wrestle her quilt away from her other blankets and drape it over his shoulders. Only then does Steve realize he’s shivering as the cold of the outside world slowly seeps out of his bones.

In here, as Robin sits down across from him, he feels safe, finally—safe and warm.

“Okay, spill,” she demands, taking any sting out of the order by reaching out and taking his hand.

Steve takes a breath, ready to heed her orders, before letting it all out. Where does he start? What does he say? Does he start with Jason? With the note to Chrissy? There’s just too much and it’s all tangled together.

But then she squeezes his hand and he says, “I told Eddie.”

He looks down at their linked hands, unwilling to meet her eyes as she prompts, “You told him…” in a hesitant voice.

“That I was the one writing the letters,” he replies. “That I like him, that it was never Chrissy.”

“Oh,” Robin says, scooting closer so their knees bump. He wishes, absurdly, that they were in that same boy’s bathroom stall for this conversation. “Oh, shit. Is he going to tell everyone? Oh my god, are you okay? What did he say?”

“Robin,” Steve cuts her off, knowing from experience that she’ll just keep on spiraling if he lets her. “He’s not going to talk to me anymore.”

And that, for the first time since everything started spiraling out of control, is what makes tears pool in his eyes. Eddie might tell everyone, and he might be run out of town, but that feels unimportant right now.

How can that matter when he’ll never go to another band practice or Dorks & Dragons session? How can that matter when Eddie will never smirk at something Steve says when he thinks Steve’s no longer looking? When he’ll never write another letter, or receive one back?

“I am so sorry, Steve,” she says, and she sounds it, even as she drops his hands to clutch at his face hard enough that his cheeks squish together. “But, are you stupid?”

“Hey!”

She loosens her hold long enough to wipe the few tears off his cheeks before clutching on tighter, nails digging into his cheeks. “I need you to listen to the words I’m saying,” she says, each word enunciated and slow like she thinks Steve’s stupid. “I know it hurts, but Eddie’s just some boy.”

She says the word “boy” like that in and of itself is some cardinal sin, mouth puckered up like it tastes bad on her tongue. Steve laughs, just a little, and she beams at him.

“He’s just a gross, icky boy, but you, Steve Harrington,” she says his name like it’s a revelation. “It has shocked me to my core, but I really, really like you, and I don’t want to have to kill Munson if he tells everyone in town about this, okay? Blood makes me squeamish.”

Steve laughs again, all tears and snot and gross-sounding phlegm. Robin grimaces, but doesn’t let go of him.

“Eddie won’t tell anyone,” Steve replies, pretty sure he’s telling the truth. “He’s too nice.”

She pulls his face closer, eyes boring into his as she says, “he made you cry,” like there is no worse crime. Steve loves her so much.

“I lied to him, Rob.”

Robin sighs, slumping into him until they both tumble down onto her unmade bed, quilts and sheets and comforters lumpy beneath them. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate him, alright?” she asks, shoving a stuffed elephant into his arms. Steve squeezes it to his chest and stares up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars taped up on her ceiling. “I don’t give a fuck about Munson—I’m here for you.”

And no matter how much he wants to defend Eddie, it’s a comfort to hear. With Chrissy and Jeff, he’s not sure where their loyalties will shake out. Eddie’s their friend, even if they’re Steve’s too. When their newly-forming group fractures at the seams, he’s not sure where they’ll land.

But, he’s got Robin, and maybe that’ll be enough.

“Can I spend the night?” he whispers. “I sort of left my car at the quarry along with my house keys.”

Robin spins around, her hair tickling Steve’s nose as she makes herself comfortable nestled into Steve’s side. “You’re a disaster,” she sighs, “but, yeah. Let me go ask my mom.”

***

In the morning, while Steve’s still starfished out on her bedroom floor, Chrissy calls. Robin’s mom is the one that picks up, but when she yells up the stairs, Robin comes running.

Chrissy’s tinny voice sounds frantic as she asks, “have you seen Steve?” quickly enough that Robin barely catches it. “He was at Eddie’s yesterday, but his car’s not at his house, and he’s not picking up his phone, and I’m so wor—“

“He left his car at the quarry,” Robin cuts in, relieved when it shuts Chrissy up. A small part of her burns that it took Chrissy so long to call her when she’d asked her to, like without Robin in front of her, she’d fled the other girl’s mind entirely. “He’s with me.”

“Oh, good,” Chrissy sighs, sounding so relieved that Robin has a hard time holding onto her grudge. “Did he…tell you?”

Robin glances at her mom, standing in front of the stove and stirring eggs around in a pan, well within hearing range. So, all she says is, “he told me.”

“Is he okay?”

Robin runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down her bedhead. “Would you be?” Chrissy doesn’t reply—she doesn’t need to, not when they both know there’s only one answer to that question. “Look, I’ve got him, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighs, sounding relieved. Before she can make her excuses to get off the phone, Chrissy asks. “Hey Robin?”

Robin hums in reply, out of words.

“Thank you.”

With that, the girl that Robin likes hangs up on her, probably to call her own boyfriend and update him on the situation. Robin’s gut clenches, but she tries to take her own advice—Chrissy’s just a girl, but Steve? He’s her friend.

“I’m trying not to be nosy,” her mom prompts, and Robin jumps, having entirely forgotten she was there, “but is your friend okay?”

Robin tries to think of a non-outing way to explain the situation before giving it up as a bad job and just saying, “he’s going through a break-up.” Emotion-wise, it feels close enough to the truth anyway.

Her mom spins, spatula in hand as she raises an eyebrow at Robin and asks, “moves on fast, doesn’t he?”

“Ew, Mom!” Robin cries, stalking out of the kitchen to the sound of her mom’s laughter.

Steve’s up when she goes back into her room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he looks around her room like this is the first time he’s seeing it. “You want breakfast?” she asks.

They eat eggs, hash browns and toast, her mom keeping the invasive questions to a minimum, and then they commandeer the TV in the living room to watch shitty romcoms and complain about their disastrous love lives.

It’s fun—Robin can’t remember the last time she’s had a friend over, much less one she can be honest with, so when Steve makes no move to leave as afternoon turns into evening, she doesn’t mention it either, just shoves a baggy clean shirt and a pair of her dad’s sweatpants at him and demands he change.

It’s in the dark of her room that night that Steve asks, “can I sit with you at lunch on Monday?”

Robin smiles, picturing King Steve Harrington strolling up to the band geek’s table like he belongs there. “Course, dingus,” she replies, and is rewarded by Steve reaching up to take her hand.

“Love you, Rob,” he murmurs.

She stares down into the darkness, gobsmacked as his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. Tomorrow morning, her mom will drive Steve to pick up his car, and he’ll go home.

But right now, tonight, Steve Harrington loves her, and he fell asleep holding her hand.

PART 16

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #robin interlude! steve's got a soft place to land

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undreaming-fanfiction · 10 months ago

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My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie au #steddie fanfiction #dustin henderson #lotr steddie #ish #lord of the rings steddie #not proofread we die like Boromir MY BOY #ahem this got long #Steve the redorkifier Harrington #Eddie the reemerging dork Munson

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months ago

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steddie microfic: guard your heart

For @steddiemicrofic November prompt, Guard, 532 words.

Rating: T Tags: idiots to lovers. no upside down au. CW: drug use.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Remember Claudette?” Steve passed the beer can to Eddie, who sat beside him on the couch in the trailer. “Started High School with you? Graduated a billion years sooner?”

“You’re hilarious,” Eddie bitched, fixating on Steve’s wet lips.

“We dated last year, and she’s invited me to Indianapolis. I, uh… need a fake ID?”

Eddie discarded the beer, taste souring. Sharing their final can had become a nightly ritual, and now Steve gazed at Eddie with huge, questioning eyes that seemed to scour the depths of Eddie’s soul:

What the fuck do you want me to say, Harrington?

Three weeks ago, Steve arrived picking a fight over Eddie pushing drugs to ‘his’ kids. Eddie truthfully vowed that he didn’t sell to Hellfire Club—or anybody he actually liked—and promptly sold Steve weed. They’d giggled the night away. Next visit, they’d drunkenly kissed. When Wayne got back from night-shift, Eddie reassured him he wasn’t exactly a fan of Steve. Who was asleep in Eddie’s bed.

Naked.

And Eddie didn’t like Steve. Much. Besides, Steve was driving to fucking Indianapolis to have sex with some girl.

When Steve showed up for the fake ID, he sulkily shoved it straight in a pocket. Eddie flipped the bird at the retreating BMW and slunk back inside.

…

Steve had a shitty night.

Claudette basically invited him to make some guy jealous. Or possibly, for her friends to laugh at. Then the bartender noticed Steve’s ID.

Date-of-birth on it wasn’t 1965, as requested. It read… 1945.

The security guard escorted him out. Claudette’s other boyfriend followed for a one-sided brawl before disappearing back into the bar.

Steve sat on the curb, ears buzzing, head throbbing. He’d watched Eddie flip the bird in the rear-view mirror, shoulders hunched, looking as miserable and dejected as Steve had been since they parted.

What the heck was he doing here?

…

At 6am, Steve’s hammering on the door woke Eddie. Steve looked dog-tired, hair feral, and with one screamer of a black eye. Eddie’s heart panged. “What hap—"

“It’ll wait.” Steve waved the ID. “Apparently, I don’t look 41.”

“Christ, Ric’s losing it. I’ll get your ten dollars back.”

Steve shoved by, plonking himself down on the couch. “Don’t want it,” he mumbled, head in hands. “Glad I wasn’t buzzed. I drove all night to get back to you.”

Eddie’s nerves were sure-as-heck buzzing: “Why?”

Steve sighed, peeped up. “Look, I think I only went to make you jealous. I was confused. I’m sorry, but if you don’t want—"

Eddie was besides Steve in a flash, pulling him into his arms. Then they were making out like their lives depended on it.

“Oh, I want.” Eddie took Steve’s bruised face in his hands. “I thought you were fooling around, nothing more. I was… guarding my heart, I guess.” Eddie pulled a dumb face. Steve hitched his lip:

“Me too. Didn’t work, did it?”

“Let’s make this work, huh?” Eddie pressed his brow to Steve’s. Steve hissed. “Sorry. I’ll grab you some ice.”

When Wayne arrived, Steve lay with his head in Eddie’s lap, snoozing lightly. “Not a fan?” asked Wayne.

Eddie smiled, stroking Steve’s soft hair, which felt warm as his heart.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

tags: @wheneverfeasible <3 My fic on A03

#steddie microfic #steddiemicroficnovember #steddiemicrofic #steddie #steve x eddie #idiots in love #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson

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starryeyedjanai · 1 year ago

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bad boys do it better

rated: teen | @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: modern au tags: dating apps, innuendo, bad flirting read on ao3

✿

Eddie finally opens Tinder after downloading it in a fit of desperation.

He's tried everything but these stupid apps—bars and clubs and pottery classes and rock climbing—trying to find someone he can connect with.

But he's mostly found guys that string him along with whispered sweet nothings and half-promises they don't intend to follow through on.

So he makes his profile and then promptly fumbles and drops his phone because— no fucking way.

There's no way this is real life.

There's no fucking way the first guy to pop up is Steve fucking Harrington, his unfortunate and longest lasting crush in high school.

He picks up his phone and sees Steve's face staring back at him, unassuming, a bright, cheery smile on his face.

Steve, 28 2 miles away "Hope you like bad boys because I have it on dvd and vhs" Interests: baseball, basketball, live music, movies

He taps to get to the next photo and lets out a shaky breath—the shorts of what can only be his Halloween costume are so short, exposing hairy thighs that Eddie wants to sink his teeth into.

The next photo is a snapchat picture of him grinning wide, cradling what might be the world's ugliest dog, the text across the screen reading my nephew is so handsome 🤩🤩🤩.

The last is an obligatory shirtless mirror pic, not showing off washboard abs, but the soft, toned skin of his stomach.

He closes the app, sets his phone down, and breathes through his nose.

This can't be real, right? In what world would Steve be the first person in a sea of profiles in San Francisco of all places?

Eddie expected him to chase after Nancy Wheeler when she went to Boston, but he didn't stick around long enough in Hawkins to find out if they ever rekindled their will-they-won't-they relationship.

Maybe he's just visiting. Maybe he found his match and just forgot to delete Tinder. Because there's just no way Eddie has this kind of luck.

He opens up Instagram and searches for Steve and finds him right away because they're probably still Facebook friends.

He scrolls through his profile and deflates a little, because all of the pictures on Tinder are from his Instagram. Which means it's probably much more likely that someone is catfishing using Steve's pictures.

Because the Steve from high school wasn't into men. And he's hot enough for someone to use his pictures to scam people or whatever.

He opens up Tinder again and his thumb is swiping right before he thinks about what he's doing.

It's a match!

Okay, now he knows it's a catfish. Or maybe it's a bot.

There's no world in which Steve Harrington would swipe right on him in the twenty minutes it's been since he created his account.

He types a message to "Steve" saying so are you a bot or just a catfish?

He doesn't get a response right away, so he clicks out of the messages, looking at profiles of what are hopefully actual people he can connect with.

His phone buzzes when the message from Steve comes in.

Hi3 Eddiems, cl!ck th3 linkin my proffile to . achat I am waitin9

He rolls his eyes and goes back to perusing profiles. It's not like he thought it was really Ste-

His phone pings with another message and he clicks back into the chat immediately.

That was a joke. There's not even a link in my profile

Eddie's heart beats a little faster, his fingers typing out a response.

So a catfish then?

Why do you think I'm a catfish?????

Because I know the guy in those pictures and there's no way hes into men. That guy was a jock extraordinaire in high school and very straight

You're awfully judgey for someone who was so anti-conformity in high school. Whos to say I haven't changed?

Or like, learned new things about myself?

Eddie's breath stutters in his throat.

Also you didn't really know me since we never talked.

Okay, I mean. It's pretty easy to guess that I was counterculture in high school by looking at me. So I'm still on the fence about the catfish thing

How about we meet up then? So you can see me in all my nearing-30 glory

And watch bad boys on dvd and vhs with you?

Dude, I am not inviting you to my house on the first date

That's a third date kind of thing

Oh yeah? Is it a back-to-back feature? We start with the vhs then move to dvd?

He can't believe he's entertaining this. A catfish wouldn't offer to meet up unless they thought Eddie wouldn't call their bluff. He kind of wants to see where this is going.

No see, we start with the dvd playing in the living room and then when we inevitably start being bad boys🥵 in the middle of the movie, we can pick it back up on vhs in my room later

To be clear, we stop the movie, right? I'm not sure bad boys has a soundtrack meant for the kind of activities we'd be doing

Oh for sure. I'd even put on my "let's get it on" playlist. As a treat.

Eddie can't help but grin. Even if this guy is a catfish, this is maybe the most fun he's had talking to someone in a long time.

Are you serious about meeting up?

Uh yeah, I can't have you thinking I'm a catfish forever

What's your favorite brewery?

Cellarmaker

Wanna do tomorrow afternoon at like 2 when it's not busy?

That sounds perfect

He isn't sure if it's really Steve or if he's going to be met with someone else or stood up, but at least he'll get to drown his sorrows if it doesn't work out.

Well—he's unsure until he gets the 'stharrington started following you' notification on Instagram a few minutes later.

He screams into his pillow so loud his neighbor thumps on the wall.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddieholidaydrabbles #st ficlet #janai.doc

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 month ago

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Someday my prince will come

Written for day 30 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Sing & Movies

Rated: G

Tags: Post-Vecna; Pre-Steddie; Everybody lives; Injured Eddie; Hospitals; Eddie has a crush on Steve; Accidental love confessions

Notes: I wrote this, then googled the release date of the VHS and realized it didn't come out until 1994. Shut up, this is an AU now. 🤣

A high-pitched trill pierces through Steve’s foggy mind. He jerks awake and almost topples from his chair, hands grasping for his nail bat, for his ax, for anything. It’s the goddamn bats again, or police sirens, come to take Eddie away. He won’t let them, they’ll need to kill him before-

It’s not the bats or the police.

Someone is singing.

The realisation leaves him floundering and confused, even as the adrenaline slowly seeps from his body. Why is there a random woman singing operas in Eddie’s hospital room in the middle of the night?

It takes him a few seconds until he makes out the source of the music: the television set in the corner of the room.

The hospital doesn’t have video recorders, usually, but it quickly turned out that Eddie liked having noise and lights around, even during the first few days, when they weren’t sure he’d ever wake up. They tried the local stations at first, but the news are still full of Eddie’s face and murder allegations, and Robin needed to pry the remote from Steve’s fist before he could crush it. So Dustin brought in the video recorder, and everybody pitched in with their favorite movies, so that the hospital room never needed to be quiet.

Right now, Snow White is singing to the seven dwarfs about how her prince will come someday.

Who the hell picked that kitschy shit?

Steve cringes as she hits another ear-piercing note and turns to the nightstand to find the remote.

And that’s when he sees that Eddie is awake and watching the screen. His pupils are large and unfocussed, but he’s smiling. It’s small and hesitant - a mere ghost of the bright, bold thing from before - but it’s the first smile Steve has seen on him since they brought him out of the coma.

The song continues.

“I love this one,” Eddie says after a second or two. “We have it at home.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization slowly trickling in. This probably is the very copy Eddie is talking about. Wayne must’ve brought it. Must’ve dug through the rubble and debris that used to be his home to unearth this tape for his nephew.

Eddie just keeps watching the movie and humming along with the song. It comes out raspy through his shredded throat.

“Haven’t watched it in a long while,” he whispers. “Thought I was too grown up for it. And ‘sides, fairytales never come true, right? No Prince Charming for me.”

“Eddie,” Steve says before he can stop himself. The hand that was just reaching for the remote grasps for Eddie’s fingers instead. Eddie’s eyes shift over to him and that smile goes a little wider. It makes one of his dimples appear.

“But now you're here,” he says. His voice is getting slurred from using it so much. “What took you so long, huh?”

Steve blinks. Oh God, is Eddie mistaking him for the stupid prince from the stupid movie? He looks a little bit like him, he guesses - if you’re high on pain meds and stuck in a dark hospital room, that is. He opens his mouth to tell him the truth, but Eddie tilts his head in the pillows, eyes stupidly large and dark, and the words die on his tongue.

“Sorry,” he shrugs, ignoring the red-hot blush that’s rapidly overtaking his face. “Got a bit delayed. You know how it is.”

“‘s okay,” Eddie nods graciously, then frowns. “Where’s your horse? ‘s it not allowed in the hospital?”

Steve quickly disguises his snort of laughter as a cough. Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

“Um, yeah,” he says. “Had to leave it outside in the parking lot. Stupid hospital rules, right?”

“Right,” Eddie agrees, and tries to lean in for a conspirational whisper. He’s still too weak, so Steve ends up bending down until his ear is nearly at his lips. “This place sucks. Stupid nurses won’t even let me have a smoke, can you believe it?”

They both laugh, only that Eddie’s turns into a cough real quick.

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, squeezing his fingers gently. “We’ll get you out of here in no time. You can stay at my place for a bit, I have it all figured out.”

Eddie freezes.

“Oh,” he says, and suddenly he sounds all dejected and fearful. “That’s right. I need to’ tell ya somethin’.”

“Huh?” Steve says, resisting the urge to sweep a stray curl out of Eddie’s face. “What’s that?”

Eddie sighs. It turns into a yawn halfway through. “You took so long to show up and … I wanted t’ wait for you, I really did, but … There’s someone else. Sorry.”

Steve feels his frown melt into a smile, even as his heart gives a little tug.

“Hey, that’s okay,” he says. “Are they good to you?”

Eddie bobs his head up and down, motions jerky and uncoordinated. Steve can tell he’s about to fall back asleep.

“He’s brilliant, man. S’much more than I gave’m credit for. Kind and generous and brave and strong. Carried me outta that shithole all by ‘mself. And the way he tore that bat apart with his teeth? Holy moooh-... “ He yawns again, long and drawn-out. “-ley.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. He thinks Snow White has finished her song by now, but he can’t be sure. The rush of his own blood in his ears is too loud.

“Eddie, I-” he croaks after what seems like an eternity, but the only reply he gets is a long, hearty snore.

It’s okay, he guesses, brushing Eddie’s hair from his face before leaning back in his chair and focussing back on the movie. He’ll tell him some other time, when he’s feeling better and more clear in the head. It may still take a while, but until then, he can be patient.

He’ll make it worth the wait for both of them.

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie bingo

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles 2024 #steddiebingo12daysofchristmas #hype's steddie bingo

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the-witty-pen-name · 1 month ago

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Video Girl

Modern AU

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Youtuber!F!Reader

Summary: Eddie stumbled across your YouTube channel when you posted a review about Corroded Coffin’s newest album. Now, he’s binged all your videos and your channel has become his “comfort channel” that he has on all the time while he’s feeling lonely on tour. When they’re invited to perform at a convention he wonders if he’ll finally get the chance to meet you.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: pining; fluff; angst; cyber-bulling/mean comments directed towards reader; kissing; slowish burn; eddie absolutely down bad; substance use; cursing

A/N: he convention is essentially VidCon- I’ve never been to VidCon or any other type of convention before. I have no idea what I’m really talking about but this is like my best guess as an outsider as to how conventions like these may look? Sorry in advance. I really loved the idea of the reader being a content creator but I don’t know the details on how being a creator at a con would work haha I did my best.

Eddie falls asleep every night to the sound of your voice.

When the tour bus is driving overnight as they head to the next city, he rests his phone on the wall of his bunk, watching YouTube videos with the volume low as he tries to drift off. One of your videos had played as a recommendation automatically and he was too tired to turn off his phone. He laid on his stomach, too tired to move but still not fully asleep.

“Hey everyone,” you smiled, offering a wave to your video's viewers. “I’m really excited for this video- it’s been literally requested non-stop since my last Corroded Coffin video-”

The mention of the band, makes his ears perk and he opens his eyes again- suddenly not as tired as he just was a second ago. You’re holding up a copy of the band’s newest vinyl and talking about how this video will be your live reaction to listening to it for the first time.

Eddie usually doesn’t watch or pay attention to reviewers- he doesn’t really care for typical critics. However, he just ended up watching it. He smiles to himself as you excitedly tear the plastic to open your vinyl, and you show your viewers a tour of the record sleeve, the photos inside, everything visual. You beam excitedly at the included square posters and the book with the lyrics. You hold up one of the posters.

“Literally the hottest guy I think I’ve ever seen,” You smile bashfully, the poster showing Eddie playing his guitar at one of their shows. Eddie can’t help but blush. “You guys already know, Eddie Munson is my celebrity crush- has been for like years… ever since the EP came out like what? 6 years ago? He’s gorgeous. Anyways…” You get back on topic, focusing on talking about the visuals and the album's concepts. You provide your own opinions and interpretations and Eddie can’t help but just really appreciate how much you appreciate all of the effort the band put into every aspect of the album.

Eddie can’t help as his whole chest swells with pride with each of your reactions. You practically jump out of your seat with excitement at the riffs, the way you head bang to the drum solos, the way you pause and take your time to absorb lyrics. It’s so endearing. He’s smiling to himself as you go on excitedly.

From that moment, he watched everything you posted. Your channel was a bit eclectic- album reviews, gaming, vlogs… he watched everything. Your vlogs were probably his favorite. When he’s in his bunk winding down, it kind of feels like being on FaceTime with a friend. He loves watching just the normalcy of your life compared to his. Sometimes, his heart aches for simplicity like that. He can picture himself there, sitting with you in your car after you went through the drive through, taking you to the bookstore, helping you cook. He wishes he could have something like that.

“Holy shit guys,” you smile, you cover your face with your free hand while you hold your phone. Using his burner account, Eddie is watching your most recent TikTok that’s been reposted to your Instagram story. You show a paparazzi photo that’s been taken of Eddie recently, you zoom in and show that under his flannel and his jacket, he’s wearing your merch. “Eddie Fucking Munson is wearing my merch! My merch! Shit, this can’t be real. That’s my shirt!”

Eddie recognizes where that photo was taken almost immediately. He’s walking out of the hotel they stayed in last weekend after their shows in Toronto. He and the other guys were leaving out the back entrance, thinking they’d be safe from view. Of course, there was a pap with a long lens.

He’d been up all night, and he looked like it. His hair was even more unruly than usual, he was sporting dark under eyes, and he was wearing the clothes he went to bed in- old sweats and your shirt. He was embarrassed to have a photo of him like that circling around the internet. No matter how often it happens, he can never get used to it. It always sucks.

But right now, you are so happy and it’s all Eddie can focus on. You’re smiling so wide, and he’s the reason for it. Your eyes are big with excitement and it’s like your joy is jumping off his phone screen directly into his chest. He couldn’t even care less about the picture now, or how he looks. It doesn’t matter. He’s just happy watching you be happy. All of his initial worries just melt away as you talk to the camera.

“I can’t even wrap my head around that one- Eddie Munson knows I exist. And two, he’s watched my videos? Jesus Christ, I don’t know if I’m more excited or embarrassed,” you flush. Eddie chuckles. He likes the story and puts his phone down so he can focus. Later on, the same warm feelings bubble up again when he sees that you tweeted that since that photo began to circulate, you’ve gained thousands of new followers and that your tshirt completely sold out on your site. You tweet at him directly thanking him. He screenshots it.

Eddie originally wasn’t thrilled about the band going to perform at a convention right in the middle of their break on the tour. A beautiful month of doing nothing now suddenly interrupted. However, when you post that you’re going- he doesn’t mind so much anymore.

Apprehension clouds his mind once he starts to think about it too much. You’ll probably think he’s a freak- some creepy stalker if he ever admits to you how much he watches your content. Despite you saying many times that he’s your celebrity crush, he can’t imagine living up to any sort of idea of him that you have in your head. He’ll fall short, you’ll reject him, and he’ll never be able to live it down. It’ll break him.

You’re a nervous wreck as you look over the schedule- your eyes narrowing on the line-up of live performances. How in the hell did the convention center manage to book Corroded Coffin? You haven’t been able to think about anything except Eddie Munson since your friend had sent you that photo. Your mind races with questions. You want to know how many videos he’s seen- has he seen the ones where you essentially make a fool of yourself talking about him? Does he even know who you are or is it someone else’s shirt? Is he a subscriber? You can’t even fathom that you exist in the timeline where one of the biggest stars on the rise in some capacity knew of your existence.You can’t even think straight.

Fans are screaming outside the convention center as the band arrives in a large black SUV. Eddie’s palms are sweating, and he is more nervous than he thought he’d be. The anxious feeling he’s experiencing has nothing to do with the crowd, the cameras, the performance- it’s all because of you. Looking at the building they will shortly be escorted into, all he can think about is how you’re here- after the months of pining from behind the security of his phone, he’s going to be at the same place as you. He can’t let the opportunity to meet you pass him by.

Jeff and Gareth shove him to pay attention when he doesn’t look up from his phone when the car finally stops. They exchange a knowing look that Eddie deos his best to ignore. He got wrapped up in photos of you- watching your story as you post selfies with your friends as you’re walking around the convention center. Your smile is infectious to him. He resolved a while ago it was the prettiest he’s ever seen, coming to terms with the fact that he's helplessly smitten. He tucks his phone securely into the pocket of his jeans, and follows quickly behind his bandmates as they are ushered into the building safely.

“Corroded Coffin just got here,” your friend squeals, as she shows you a livestream someone is taking from outside. You watch Eddie on the screen as he quickly walks into the building. He’s wearing the goddamn shirt again. Your face feels overwhelmingly hot as this begins to feel all too real. He waves to fans with a goofy, wide smile- sticking out his tongue and throwing up the devil’s horns with one of his hands. You watch his laughter and it makes your heart ache.

He looks good. You’d think he’d look silly with the pink shirt but he looks so undeniably hot. He’s wearing black ripped jeans, heavy boots, and your baby pink shirt with the sleeves cuffed accentuating his tattoos. Your channel’s name is splayed across the expanse of his chest and you swear you short circuit. It’s only then that you fully allow yourself to admit that Eddie Munson not only knows that you exist- and he’s a fan.

Your friends chatter excitedly, freaking out about the situation- because duh. Who wouldn’t be? You can’t even think because your heart is beating so incredibly loud and fast, and adrenaline is making your head throb. It’s a sensory overload, and you feel like you can’t wrap your head around it. You physically shake your head to try to subside the feeling. You needed to be on- you had to finish setting up your booth, be ready to meet people who subscribed to you. You couldn’t let yourself get bogged down by this, at least not yet.

You hurried to get your table ready- tablecloth with your logo displayed on the front, merch folded into neat piles, your business cards in a small tray. Your channel name was displayed on a banner behind you that you had made to match. Your friends helped you set up the portable POS system as you set up a rack that you filled with your stickers. You didn’t really care if people bought anything, you were just excited to meet the people you’ve interacted with online since you started your channel.

Understandably, a lot of people who approached your table immediately started asking you about Eddie. It was a lot of the same questions over and over but you didn’t mind that so much. They all had asked the same things you had been asking yourself- and you wanted to know the answers as badly as they seemed to.

“No, no. I haven’t met him.”

“No, I didn’t know he watched my videos.”

“Yeah, it’s really crazy.”

“No, I didn’t send PR.”

“Yeah, no. I didn’t pay him to wear it.”

Eddie anxiously shook his leg, trying to figure out if he could sneak away. Unfortunately, most instances- it feels like his time isn’t his own. He wishes he could just walk around with Jeff and Gareth, but there’s no way to safely do that. Everything needs to be planned out, timed out and they always need security. He doesn’t want to complain- it’s that everything needs to be a thing. He can’t just go up and talk to a girl. He needs to tell his security, who also needs to coordinate with the building security. It needs to be added to the timeline of the day. Before he knows it, there’s like fifteen moving pieces that need to be put in place so he can walk up to you.

He knows it’s easier to just ask for you to be brought to him. He feels like that’s cheating. He’s the fan- he’s the one wanting the experience of meeting you. It makes him feel icky- sending buff intimidating security guys to ask you to follow them blindly- taking you away from the fun and people just so he can say hello? Makes him feel like he’d look like a douchebag. He understands it needs to be you in your world- he doesn’t want you to be the one who feels out of place. But then on the other hand, he’s drawing all this attention towards him and inadvertently to you if he does this. He worries about the scene he’s inevitably going to cause and he hopes you don’t resent him for it.

It’s towards the end of day one. Most attendees are making their way over to the auditorium for some of the other live performances. Since Eddie figured most people would be heading to that while the vendors were getting ready to partially break down their booths, it might be the perfect time to walk around. It ended up working out more perfectly than Eddie would have hoped.

Jeff and Gareth wanted to check out the other acts that were performing, so they went to go watch the concert. Eddie was able to walk around the near empty convention halls with his head of security following a couple of steps behind. He can see you in the distance. He feels warmth bubble up as he just observes your actions briefly from a short distance.

You’re packing up your merchandise and putting them into boxes, tucking them under your table to keep it out of the way until tomorrow. Three teenage girls cautiously approach you and you immediately stop everything to offer each of them a hug. You smile and chat with them- taking your time to ask them questions and thank them for talking to you. You ask them if you can take a picture with them and they nod enthusiastically. You wrap your arms around them like you’ve known them forever as your friend offers to take the picture. You hug them all again, sincerely thanking them for coming over to talk to you.

Without needing him to ask, his security lets him approach you on his own. He stands far enough back that Eddie can feel independent but still close enough he can jump in if he needs to interfere. Eddie’s been racking his brain all day for the best thing to say to you when he finally gets to meet you. Of course, he has nothing. He’s so nervous and he’s praying to God that you won’t be able to tell.

“Hey,” he says shyly as he approaches. He walks with his hands stuffed in his back pockets.

Your eyes widen in surprise, though you guess you shouldn’t be that surprised. You try your best to play it cool, but you're not sure you’re pulling it off well at all.

“Nice shirt,” you comment, with a smile.

“I’m Eddie,” he introduces himself. He’s so shy, not at all like how you'd expect him to be. You can’t help but find it endearing. You introduce yourself too.

“I, uh, I just wanted to tell you that I love you videos,” he compliments bashfully. “I think I’ve seen them all- I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you- um, same. I mean, I’m a big fan of yours too. Not of myself, obviously,” you ramble, “Your music! Not videos, but yes- I also love your music videos…”

“Thanks,” he replies, and you’re relieved to be cut off before you embarrass yourself further. “Listen, um, I wanted to ask- could we get a picture together?”

You straighten your posture and nod enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah- of course,” you reply. You go to smooth out your hair, and tug at the hem of your shirt.

“You look great,” he insists and you feel flush at his compliments. You feel giddy, as he casually wraps his arm around your shoulders. He holds up his phone, making sure you're both in frame. You both smile and he snaps a picture of the two of you.

“Do- do you mind sending it to me?” You ask.

“Here,” he offers his phone to you, “Do you want to just send it to yourself?” You’re stunned. He’s trusting you with his phone? You text the selfie to yourself, and hand it back.

“Thanks,” you smile.

“Are you going to the concert?” He asks, “I was going to meet Jeff and Gareth… do you want to come with me?”

“My friends are waiting for me..,” you say, and you’re a little disappointed to have to say no to him. “We’re supposed to meet up there actually.”

“Well, you can just have them meet us at the box if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He hears his security sigh but he couldn’t care less.

“If that won’t be too much trouble,” you insist. He shrugs it off.

“Nah, don’t even worry about it,” he’s doing his best to be nonchalant. “What do you think?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah! I’ll text them, they’ll freak out,” you smile. You lean over to the security guy. “In like a normal way, they are harmless. The worst thing they’ll be is maybe loud. I swear.”

The man offers a closed lip smile and nods.

***

“It was just hanging out,” Eddie argues exhausted. He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms. The band’s publicist scoffs, pushing her phone across the table.

“No, it’s not,” she chastises, “first, you wear the shirt. The pink tshirt was great- did wonderful; the public really liked it. But, then you wear this shirt again at a public event where it was confirmed this person would be in attendance. Then, you’re photographed with this girl and you didn’t think there’d be speculation? You’ve essentially confirmed a relationship.”

“Wearing a fucking tshirt and posting a selfie confirms a relationship?” He retorts.

“Not in normal circumstances, but you already know that there’s never normal circumstances.”

“We’re not together.”

“Eddie, this isn’t about lecturing you. Stop acting like a spoiled little kid. This isn’t about you- this is about everything you’ve built and accomplished; your band mates and their careers. It’s about all the people you employ. You can sit here and act like your actions don’t have consequences- and this isn’t about whether or not she’s a good person, or if you are or aren’t dating- it’s about thinking about the impact you have and why it’s so important to think about and plan these things.”

“Literally no one would have anything to worry about. Her reputation is spotless, she does charity fundraisers, she makes YouTube videos about Stardew Valley for Christsake.”

“This time? Sure, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been reckless Eddie. You can’t deny you’ve done worse- this is just the newest thing.”

“Jesus…”

“It’s better for optics when the three of you appear single.”

“What the hell? We aren’t even dating! We hung out once.”

“Eddie…”

“You’re telling me that people lose their jobs and no one buys our albums if I go out on a date?”

“It’s gradual Eddie.. have you even given any thought on how this is going to affect her? The microscope you put her under? The swarm of crazed fans, angry and jealous and spiteful that it’s not them… you’ve sent the poor girl out to slaughter.”

He recoils, shrinking further into the chair. Had it been that selfish and thoughtless? He didn’t imagine anything this upsetting could happen. He does feel like shit now- he didn’t think about how this attention would affect you. Maybe he had been blinded by his own infatuation. It’s not fair to you. He wanted to see you again, but maybe now he thinks he shouldn’t. You were so sweet, he thinks back on that day. He couldn’t imagine anyone hating you, or wanting to inflict that kind of pain his publicist is talking about.

He looks at the pictures she’s trying to show him. The both of you chatting near her table- obviously taken from a distance and zoomed in. He’s blushing looking at you- of course he was. You’re both smiling, looking at each other and not paying attention to anything else. Then, photos taken of the concert. Sitting next to each other, legs brushed up against each other as you chat- completely ignoring the show. He’s leaning in close so he can hear you speak. Then, you’re standing next to each other, cheering and clapping for the performance. Well, more so that you’re applauding the artist, and Eddie is standing next to you- looking at you like a lovesick idiot. It’s painfully obvious that he’s into you. Now, he’s more worried if you picked up on that than anything else. And if he wasn’t anymore obvious in his body language, just to really drive the point home- he was wearing the pink t-shirt on top of everything else.

“This is just the one post ET made about it,” she says, opening the comment section for him. “Look at the comments- this was posted an hour ago.”

He can do much better kind of sad actually

Mid

She is so annoying

They both make me sick

She’s not even that pretty

Who even is she gross

Why is she even there

It's obvious she’s just using him to grow her channel

Eddie blink twice if you need help

Clout chaser

Hundreds of comments like that kept pouring in. Of course, for every negative comment there were hundreds of positive- but Eddie couldn’t help but focus on the hateful things people were saying about you. He wanted to reply to every one of them and defend you. Who were these faceless, nameless assholes with nothing better to do?

***

You had posted a vlog about your experience at the convention- completely leaving Eddie or anything Corroded Coffin out. You shared videos of you meeting subscribers, and you meeting your favorite creators. You shared fun videos of your friends and you trying the convention center food. However, as you should’ve expected, all of the comments were about Eddie. On your little corner of the internet, your following was overwhelmingly positive and supportive. Occasionally, you saw a comment that was obviously left by someone who sought out your channel after the pictures were posted- but otherwise, you were fine.

You figured you’d be better off not to go looking for the negativity because you knew for sure you’d find it. Blocking and deleting is very easy to do, you decided a long time ago when you started your channel. You’re used to the occasional hate comment, and you haven’t checked your social media notifications on other platforms in so long. You were impressing yourself with how you’d handled the situation honestly. You figured you’d just stay offline for a few days and everything would mellow and go back to normal. You grossly underestimated the persistent attention that would soon hit you.

When you tried to live stream for your most recent let’s play, you ended up deciding to end the stream way earlier than you usually would. You anticipated people joining to ask about Eddie or ask about the photos, but you underestimated the influx of viewers you’d receive. Your moderators weren’t able to keep up and the stream was completely overrun with spam comments and hate. You usually stream for a few hours but this happened about a half an hour into your live, and you decided to shut it down. You needed to regroup. You were startled- it was unexpected to say the least. You weren’t sure where to go from here. Almost immediately after you ended the live stream, you got a text.

You okay?

Eddie had been watching?

Yeah, I’m okay. That was just a lot. I didn’t know what to do.

I’m sorry. It’s my fault.

Nothing is your fault. You don’t need to apologize. I appreciate you checking in.

Of course sweetheart

Sweetheart? You could squeal- just collapse on your bed and kick your feet. You wanted to just scream into your pillow. It was like that one text canceled out all the bullshit you just had to deal with. Thousands of people can comment that they hate you all day long, but you are the one he’s texting. You're the one he just called sweetheart.

While you’re trying to decide how to respond, your phone begins to vibrate. He’s calling you. Your heart leaps and your stomach excitedly ties itself in knots. You hadn’t spoken to him since a couple of weeks ago at the convention. You gathered the courage to answer right before the call would get sent to voicemail.

“Hey,” you answer, trying to sound casual.

“Hey,” he replies.

Eddie’s on the tour bus- he’s in another time zone that’s a few hours ahead of yours. He can hear Jeff snoring in the bunk under his and he’s sure Gareth must also be asleep. He pulled the draw curtain to muffle his talking, but he still wants to keep his voice down.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked. “How are you holding up?” He winces. He hates that this is a thing. He resents that something like this would happen to you and he feels incredibly guilty. He did this to you, and you never asked for it.

“I’m good- really,” you insist. “I’m just logging off. I think I just want to deal with it all tomorrow.”

“I wanted to call you way sooner than this,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck nervously before he starts to lay down. “I’m sorry I didn’t- I really wanted to, but I don’t know- I sort of convinced myself you’d want nothing to do with me after all of this press and attention.”

“I do feel like I’m under a microscope a little bit,” you giggle, “But that has nothing to do with you. I was hoping you’d call. I’m glad you did.”

“Our publicist isn’t too happy with me,” he explains. “Nothing to do with you-” he quickly makes sure to explain, “She just likes to plan out everything and she gets mad when I go rogue.”

“So it was a publicity stunt?” You gasp, faking shock. “I’m kidding,” you reassure him and you smile when you hear him laugh.

“Trust me, it was the complete opposite,” he reiterates. “Listen,” he takes a deep breath, “I really want to see you again.”

“I’d really like that.”

“Good,” he replies, and he punches the air victoriously for no one but himself. “What are you doing next weekend?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say teasingly, “but aren’t you playing like back to back shows in Indianapolis?”

“Fly out and meet me,” he proposes, “Come to a show and we can hang out after. We’re playing Thursday, Friday, Saturday- come to the Saturday show. Bring your friends if you want- there’s probably going to be an afterparty of some sort. Be my date. If you still can tolerate me after that, we can hang out on Sunday and do the whole like real date thing- I know this great breakfast place…”

You bite your lip, of course you want to say yes. What girl wouldn’t? The guy whose poster is literally on your wall is calling you and wanting to whisk you away for a weekend.

“Are you okay being seen with me?” you ask hesitantly, “Are we adding fuel to the fire, if we do this?”

“I guess so,” Eddie sighs, “but to be entirely honest- I don’t give a shit at all what people are going to say. I just care about you- I want to get to know you and see where this goes. That’s all that matters.”

“I’ve liked you for a really long time,” he goes on to confess, “Listen, I’ve had like a really stupidly big embarrassing crush on you since like the first time I saw one of your videos. I don’t need any convincing- I know I want this. But like weird parasocial, celebrity crush feelings aside, I started to like you even more after I met you. To me, seeing if this goes anywhere is worth it. I don’t mind putting up with the attention if I get to spend more time with you.”

“But,” he continues, “I know it’s asking a lot of you- and I know this isn’t easy. And you have to deal with so much added pressure. I fully signed up for the paparazzi and the crazy fans, it comes with doing what I love. I signed on that dotted line a while ago. I gave up my privacy and my anonymity, you know? You don’t have to be a part of that- it’s too much of me to ask of anyone.”��

“Can I think about it?” You ask and you bite your lip.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he reassures you, and you're so happy to hear he doesn’t sound upset or disappointed. You can tell he’s being genuine at putting your comfort first. “Here’s what I’m gonna do, text me your email if you’re okay with that- I’ll send you the plane tickets.”

“I can-”

“Nope. It’s my insane idea for a first date- I’m asking you out, so I pay,” he insists. “Look, if you decide not to use them, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of. Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. Please don’t feel like you have to use them, I know this is a big ask. It’s ridiculous. But I think you’re worth it.”

“I will think about it,” you say sincerely, “I don’t want to rush into anything. I just need a bit of time.”

“You can have all the time you need, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere until you say the word.”

***

Eddie has resolved that you aren’t coming to the show tonight. He hasn’t heard from you since that phone call, and he’s realized he probably scared you away. He knows he can be dramatic, and he falls into things too quickly, and he’s convinced he’s ruined his chances with you. He’s heartbroken.

But the show must go on.

Despite feeling completely devastated, he still gives the show his all. No one would tell he was going through something to look at him. He was giving all his energy, giving the crowd back exactly what they were giving him. He could do it.

You kept telling yourself over and over again to just play it cool. You tried not to lose it in the back of the Uber in bumper to bumper traffic. You watched the numbers crawl by minute by minute on your phone, knowing which song in the setlist you were missing next. You worried when the venue security questioned the legitimacy of your passes, questioning you until you felt dizzy. You finally made it as the band was finishing up one of your favorites. So relieved you made it before the end, you couldn’t find it in you to care that you missed it. You hung back, and followed the instructions of the tech crew carefully so you wouldn’t be in the way. You let yourself take a deep breath. You made it.

“Miss, do you mind waiting in the dressing room after this song?” Someone asked you, “The show’s finale has some flames and other large visual effects. It’s a liability to have you back here.”

Understanding, you nod and you promise to make your way there. As the song finished up, another crew member found you and brought you to a security guard, who then escorted you to a room with “TALENT” marked in bold on the door- a piece of plain paper with CORRODED COFFIN taped underneath. He held the door open for you and you thanked him, walking inside.

You felt very out of place, amongst Eddie, Gareth and Jeff’s things without them there. You were apprehensive and took a few minutes to find a space where you felt comfortable. Obviously, they weren’t expecting anyone. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, stage makeup still left open and messy on the rooms vanity, their duffel bags thrown messily on the floor. It felt like a piece of their world you weren’t supposed to see. A TV mounted to the wall was playing the show, so you took a seat on the uncomfortable couch and watched the rest of the concert.

You tried to practice how you’d be sitting when Eddie walked in. You didn’t want to be slouched but you also didn’t want to look too forced. You opted to just sit with your legs crossed- casual but not too casual that you felt frumpy.

For their final exit, the band was lowered under the stage. Crawling out from underneath the mechanics, Eddie hoped maybe he’d see you there waiting for him. His face fell after the high of being on stage when he realized he got his hopes up again. Jeff patted him on the back, not needing to even ask to know why Eddie was clearly upset.

“Come on,” Gareth said encouragingly, passing him a bottle of water. Eddie nods his head as a thank you, and the three of them begin to make their way back to the dressing room, thanking staff for helping as they see them.

When Jeff is the first one in the door, he offers you a wide, knowing smile. You move to stand up and say hello when Eddie sees you.

“You’re here,” he marvels.

“I’m sorry I was late,” you apologize, “I was stuck in the traffic outside forever and then when I got here they asked me to wait here-”

Eddie strides over and envelops you into a crushing hug. You were tense but your body immediately relaxed. You hug him back, not caring about how sweaty he is from just being on stage.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he mumbles into your hair before pulling away.

“Me too,” you agree.

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” he whispers, afraid the guys would hear and make fun of him for sounding so desperate.

“Me either,” you giggle. It makes him smile again. His grin expands from ear to ear and all of a sudden, every little sadness he felt all night just evaporated.

“We’re going to the wrap party,” Jeff interjects, pushing Gareth out the door with him. “We’ll see you guys over there.”

“Wrap party?” You ask, intrigued.

“Yeah, like the crew and everyone at this like after party thing,” he explains. “Should be kinda cool if you want to check it out.”

“I’d like that.”

***

The music is blaring; the bass pulsing throughout your entire body and it makes your ears feel like they’d pop. Hundreds of people were crammed up against one another, and the smoke from a variety of substances wafted throughout the bar. Eddie held your hand, helping guide you through the hoards of people. He offered a head nod to people as you both passed- no one would hear him talk anyways.

You travel up a few mezzanine levels until you’re both further away from the chaos. You can look down and see the crowded dance floor, but you are much more content with this calmer atmosphere. Leather couches and coffee tables adorn this floor of the club. Another bar is situated in the corner, with a line much, much shorter than the ones downstairs. You start to realize this is some sort of private area or VIP lounge of some kind. You see security positioned in all corners as the guard which led you and Eddie here takes his new position against the wall near the bar.

“This is pretty much all crew, producers, management people, friends,” Eddie explains, “Just people who are close to us, you know?”

You spot Jeff and Gareth on one of the couches, in the midst of a heated discussion with another person you don’t recognize. Gareth almost spills his drink as he’s frantically using his hands to make a point, while Jeff is sitting with his back to him- talking to a girl who is seated on the arm of the couch.

“MUNSON!” A voice booms over the chatter. Eddie looks to the direction of the voice. You watch his eyes light up, unapologetically happy. He drops your hand and you see him bolt to the person.

“Harrington, you motherfucker!” Eddie exclaims, pulling the other guy into a big hug. “Shit,” he pulls away quickly, and returns back to you. With his hand on your back, he gently guides you over to the spot of the reunion. “Steve Harrington,” he introduces. Steve shakes your hand as you introduce yourself, and he smirks as he glances between you and Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie introduces you to all of his hometown friends. They all attended the show- drove up from Eddie’s hometown to surprise him. Despite catching up with old friends, Eddie was so attentive to make sure you still felt included. He went out of his way to make sure you were introduced to everyone, and he bragged on your behalf about the success of your channel to everyone. He also made sure to fill you in if you got lost in the conversations. He’d explain the context of the inside jokes, tell you the bigger story that an anecdote was from… everything to pull you into his world, his real world.

“We should get out of here and go to The Hideout,” Gareth said, “For old times sake.”

“I’m not abandoning top shelf shit for the skunky beer at The Hideout,” Steve scrunched his nose in disgust.

“What’s The Hideout?” you ask Eddie as the group debates the next move.

“A really, really, really shitty bar back home,” he whispers close to your ear. “It was where we used to play when we were just starting. It was actually awful,” he chuckles, reminiscing. “We’d play to practically no one on Tuesday nights at like 11pm.”

“You had the time of your life didn’t you?” you smile, knowingly. He nodded.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking awesome,” he admits.

“Fine, not tonight,” Gareth concedes finally, “but we gotta get back there at some point.”

“So,” Nancy says, changing the subject and turning to you. “Eddie didn’t tell us he had a girlfriend. We all had to find out on TMZ like the rest of the world. When did you guys meet?”

“Oh, um,” you begin, but Eddie places his arm around your shoulders.

“This is our first date, actually,” he interjects, confidently. “So none of you assholes can say anything to make me look bad. I’m trying to impress her.”

You bite your lip to hold back a smile.

“So the whole t-shirt thing?” Nancy asks, directing her question to Eddie.

“My way of just trying to get her attention I guess,” he admits with a shrug, “Not that first picture though- I looked terrible. The second time though? Yeah, that was totally on purpose.”

Your face felt like it was on fire- you were overwhelmed with the way Eddie was so nonchalant. He was so honest, unabashedly so, with the way he spoke about his interest in you. You’d never experienced that type of attention, you didn’t know how to handle it. You don’t know how to play this game when he’s just put all his cards out on the table. There’s no guessing, no implications, no mind games- he just likes you. For the first time, in the craziest of circumstances, something you always found complicated is finally simple.

He liked you. He pursued you. He got you.

The drinks and the conversation continue to flow with ease. Eddie enjoyed sitting back and watching you fit in with his life. He loves the way it’s all just making sense. It’s like you’ve known his friends for years. You fit perfectly amongst them, and he just can’t help himself as he just admires you. He’s finding it so hard to play it cool, but he just wants to skip ahead to where this is routine. He wants you here, learning this side of him- engrossing yourself into his world. It just clicks and to him, it just all makes sense.

When Jeff Gareth and him are inevitably pulled away to greet and talk with other people, he can’t help but keep checking back on you. He didn’t want to abandon you. He didn’t want to engage with anyone else here outside of the little circle he reluctantly had to leave. He should be paying attention to the names of these suits he’s meeting, but his mind is too preoccupied. He wants to just rush back to you, and intercept any embarrassing things he knows his friends are telling you.

“I think you and Eddie seem really great together,” Steve discloses to you when the rest of the group is caught up in their own conversations. “He wears his heart on his sleeve,” Steve explains, “He’s not like how the tabloids and the news make him out to be. He’s always been misunderstood. I just uh- wanted to let you know that. He doesn’t do this, ever.”

Steve goes on to explain, “He’ll kill me for telling you this. But I haven’t heard Eddie talk about a girl since the whole band thing took off. You’d think he’d be like running wild and like getting all these girls- hell, that would be me. He’s very selective on who he invites in; he wouldn’t be doing all of this if he didn’t want this to go somewhere like for you two.”

“I can tell he really likes you,” Steve continues, “I just wanted to make sure you know how good of a guy he is. In case you know, like, you had any doubts or anything. He’s not like that kind of guy. He’s probably the most sincere, loyal person ever- I just, you know, wanted to hype him up to you a little bit and vouch for him. And also just to ask you, to please not break his heart- don’t make him have false hope if you aren’t serious.”

You nod, understanding where Steve is coming from.

“Back,” Eddie announces, jumping over the back of the couch to settle himself between you and Steve. “That was so fucking boring,” he jokes, wrapping his arm around you comfortably. “Best thing at this party is right here,” he gestures around the circle of his friends with the stem of his beer bottle, starting with Steve and working the neck around to you. He offers an incredibly cheesy grin and you laugh at his antics. You rest your head on his shoulder as he settles back into the group conversation, and you both miss how Steve smiles watching the two of you.

***

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, Jeff and Gareth sit quietly on their phones in the middle row of the large car while you're cuddled into Eddie’s side in the far back row. Eddie doesn’t dare move, too terrified that he’ll wake you up. Your head rests on his shoulder and your body is flush to his. He silently curses every pot hole and sharp turn begging that you stay like this for as long as possible.

Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be anyone waiting outside for them. The driver pulls around to the back door- the plan is to sneak you all in through the kitchen. The band’s body guard opens the car door. Gareth and Jeff climb out and scurry into the building quickly. Eddie softly nudges you awake.

“Keep your hood up, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs as you pull your jacket tighter around you. You put your hood on your head and pull it down to cover your face- just in case. Eddie helps you out of the car- also with his hood on. “Head down, okay?” he whispers, and he guides you as you walk with your head down.

You scurry through the kitchen and you use the elevator towards the back of the building to travel to the higher floors.

Eddie arranged for one of the assistants to bring your bags here while you were out. He set you up in the room across the hall from him. He wanted to make sure you had your own space. When you get to the rooms, Gareth and Jeff disappear to their own rooms, offering very tired “goodnights.�� Eddie walks you to your door.

“I had so much fun tonight,” you sleepily admit. “Thank you… thank you for trusting me.”

His eyes soften. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep,” he smiles, affectionately grazing your jaw with his thumb. You lean up and his heart skips when he watches your eyes linger- looking between his eyes and his lips. You press your lips to his and this delicate kiss feels like enough to make his entire body melt.

It’s soft and perfect. A first kiss that you only see in the movies. Kissing you made Eddie feel like he’d never kissed anyone before. Nothing that came before amounted nearly as much as this. He feels like he’s in high school again all of a sudden. This, he decides, should have been his first kiss. Because none of them ever felt as good as this. He makes up his mind then and there, that you’re the only person he wants to kiss for the rest of his life. It’s a thought he won’t share until much further down the road.

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solarmorrigan · 4 months ago

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Deck the Halls - Spooky Scary Remix

For the @steddie-spooktober day 7 prompt: Skeleton Rated: G | Words: 682 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a menace Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Those are skeletons.”

“They sure are.”

With an air of satisfaction, Eddie deposits the two life-size, plastic skeletons onto the couch, where they preside over the boxes of decorations sitting on the living room floor like a bony king and queen (or two kings. Or two queens. Steve guesses he can’t say for sure, since they’re skeletons).

“Eddie, it’s December,” Steve says.

“You know, your observational skills are one of the things I really love about you,” Eddie shoots back.

“Fuck off,” Steve snaps, with no real heat. “We’re supposed to be decorating for Christmas.”

“And so we shall!” Eddie claps his hands together. “Where should we start?”

“Let’s start with why there are skeletons on the couch,” Steve says, and Eddie tsks, like Steve is the one being weird.

“We’re going to decorate with them, obviously.”

“Skeletons are for Halloween, not Christmas.”

Eddie eyes Steve with that shrewd tilt to his mouth that never bodes well for Steve’s chances in an argument. “Says who?”

“Uh, everyone?”

“Oh, everyone. Is that all?” Eddie waves his hand dismissively. “You know, skeletons don’t stop existing just because it’s not October. In fact, I’ve got news for you, baby.” He steps closer to Steve, bringing his hands up to Steve’s hips and giving them a squeeze before leaning in to whisper, “there’s a skeleton inside of you right now.”

Steve scrunches his nose up in distaste. “Don’t say it like that,” he implores, and Eddie snickers.

“Too late, thought’s in your head now.” He leans in and pecks a kiss to Steve’s cheek before stepping away. “Besides, I have a plan to deal with the Christmas skeleton nay-sayers such as yourself!”

He goes to dig through the plastic shopping bags he’d come home from the store with, where Steve had only sent him to get another box of lights and some extra hooks for the gutters, not these new spooky-scary interlopers, who are still sitting on the couch, eyeing Steve with their empty sockets.

“Where did you even get these things, anyway?” Steve asks as Eddie digs.

“They were on sale, can you believe it?” Eddie says. “No one wanted the poor, bony bastards, so I brought ‘em home. Aha!”

From the depths of the rustling plastic Eddie unearths his treasure: two fur-trimmed Santa hats.

With what seems to Steve like a disproportionate amount of delight, Eddie sets about placing the hats onto the two bare, plastic skulls, tugging them around carefully and setting the pompoms at jaunty angles before he steps aside and gestures with a theatrical sweep of his arms.

“What d’you think?”

Steve blinks at two festive skeletons on the couch. What does he think?

He thinks that they only moved into this house a few months ago, and he doesn’t want anyone in the neighborhood to think they’re weird.

Which– okay, they are weird. Obviously. Everyone is going to find out. But Steve had been hoping that the idea could sort of bake in; that they’d have time to settle and become a part of the community before everyone figures it out, so they’d have a better chance of not getting frozen out. He’d had a plan.

But then again– Eddie is standing there grinning at Steve, so hopeful and pleased with himself, practically begging Steve to tag along with him on his weird little endeavor, and honestly? Steve would rather live as a socially ostracized hermit until the end of his days than make Eddie unhappy.

“I think you’d better find a good place outside to put them, and they’d better stay there, because if I wake up one morning and find out you moved one of those things outside our bedroom window, or somewhere inside the house, I’m divorcing you,” Steve says.

If anything, Eddie’s smile only grows. “I wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he says, his tone implying that he absolutely would.

All the same, Steve allows himself to be smothered with grateful kisses, and braces himself to deal with “mysteriously” moving Christmas skeletons for the rest of the season.

The things he does for love.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #they are in love!#but Eddie remains a menace #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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starshideurfics · 8 months ago

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Thirsty Thursday - Buzzed

steddie, omegaverse, modern AU, Eddie got out of Hawkins and got famous

Most days it’s easy to pretend. Steve and Robin share a house and a workplace and most of a life in Indianapolis. He can usually forget how he and Eddie almost had something.

But that was before Eddie moved to L.A. to try doing something with his music, found his way into playing a busker in an indie film that miraculously got oscar buzz, and suddenly he’s a household name, booking tons of projects.

And Steve is happy for him!

Really!

He is.

It’s just… He misses having Eddie around. How excitable and goofy he can be, but also having a thoughtful alpha to hang out with other than Robin.

Not to mention his campfire scent and the way his callused fingers feel against Steve’s skin.

They still talk occasionally, texting mostly, little check-ins every couple months, but Steve hasn’t seen Eddie in-person in at least five years.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend. Steve’s old friend, Eddie, and Eddie Munson, alpha movie star, are two different people.

Steve’s crush can exist between the pages of magazines and on internet gossip sites.

He can moon over the pics from Eddie’s photoshoots that he has saved on his phone in private. Can keep his fantasies contained in his nest as he imagines his fingers sliding into short curls.

At least until he gets a call from Dustin on an unassuming Friday night. Steve and Robin are already nearly through a bottle of wine, kicking their feet up after a long week of teaching, when Steve’s phone rings.

“Eddie’s next movie is shooting in Chicago,” Dustin starts.

“And he’s flying out early so he can stop in Indy for a week. I may have told him he should skip the hotel and stay in your guest room.”

“Dustin!”

“What? You’ve got one of the mattresses from the podcast ads in there! It’s comfy! And that way he doesn’t have to deal with paps!”

“Can you just say paparazzi like a normal person?” Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “But it should be fine. When does he get in?”

“Next weekend.”

“Dustin!”

“I only just found out! El and I are driving down in a week, and Mike and Will are only able to skype in.”

He doesn’t mention Lucas and Max, since they also live in Indy; Dustin and El are likely staying with them.

Robin elbows Steve and hisses for him to put the call on speaker, getting caught up as Steve has a private crisis at the thought of finally seeing Eddie again.

To make matters worse, his totally not stalkerish web alert for Eddie’s name pings after he hangs up with Dustin. A new photo shoot.

Eddie’s curls are gone, buzzed down to his scalp; Steve mourns for a fraction of a second.

Then he needs to squeeze his thighs together.

The wanting that he’s been squashing down for the better part of a decade comes back in full force, strong enough that Robin asks if his cycle is early and he’s going into heat.

Blushing, but knowing he can’t keep a secret from her to save his life, he shows her his phone.

“All I can see is how noticeable his ears are now,” Robin says with a judging look and a shrug. “And I am never going to buy Eddie as a tough guy, but I guess I can understand what you omegas see in him.”

“Rooooob!” Steve whines, indignant.

“Steeeeeve!” she teases back.

“I just… Fuck, I need to get laid.”

“I’m sure Eddie would if you asked him nicely.”

“Rob!”

“He looks like he could hold you down, get you to stop stressing so much.”

“Robin… I can’t think about that.”

“Sure you can.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you know why: The bulk of the conversations Eddie and I still have are about you. He always asks me how you are, what you’re up to, at least once a month.”

Steve’s taken aback by that. “What?”

“Yeah. He usually asks if you’re seeing anyone. Tries to sneak it in. Like I’m not going to notice.”

She raises a single eyebrow, and Steve feels intensely confused. “Then how come he doesn’t ask me? Or talk to me more?” He tips back the last of his wine and pulls his legs up tight to his chest.

“Because you’re both idiots,” Robin says, voice warm and full of love as she hugs him.

A week later, a car with dark tinted windows pulls up in Robin and Steve’s driveway.

Eddie has a baseball hat and sunglasses on as he gets out, the disguise barely enough obscure his features, but even if it were better, Steve would still recognize him by his posture.

Robin is out running errands and picking up dinner, but mostly giving Steve an hour of privacy. A chance to say something before either of them can get stuck inside their heads and fuck it up.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie says with a smile as he pulls off his sunglasses in the entryway.

“Hey yourself,” Steve replies, pulling Eddie in for a hug, ready to make it quick, only for Eddie to hold on tight and press his nose to Steve’s neck. A purr rumbles from his chest.

Steve reaches up and pulls the hat from Eddie’s head, letting it fall to the ground.

He rubs his fingers over the stubble of the alpha’s hair, keeping him pressed close to the bonding gland at his neck, his scent crying out for Eddie to claim him.

Soft lips ghost against Steve’s neck. “I missed you,” Eddie whispers.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve kisses the side of Eddie’s head, the only part he can reach, lips pressed to the velvet of his shorn hair. Then it’s like his brain suddenly catches up with him. “Sorry! We- I didn’t-”

Eddie presses a single finger to Steve’s lips, finally pulling back to look in his eyes.

Without his curls, Eddie’s gaze is somehow more intense, dark chocolate looking into Steve’s heart. “Don’t apologize, puppy. You have nothing to apologize for, not to me.”

“Eddie…”

“I’m the one who ran away, who’s been hiding instead of alpha-ing up and telling you.”

“Telling me what?” Steve asks, lower lip trembling.

“That even after all this time, I can’t get your scent out of my nose. That I still dream about you every night. That I work so much to keep from going insane missing you. That I sh-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

Eddie doesn’t waste any more time, just picks Steve up, their lips still connected, and carries him to the nearest bedroom—fortunately Steve’s—and drops him on the bed. Getting out of their clothes doesn’t take long; they’ve both waited long enough.

And Robin will be home soon.

Part 2

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #thisty thursday #stranger things fic

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chelseeebe · 11 months ago

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we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

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epicbuddieficrecs · 5 months ago

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Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.

#buddie #epic buddie fic rec #favorites #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction

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lavendermunson · 1 year ago

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i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson

from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm

summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!

cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!

w.c 1.7k

“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”

You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today. All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.

“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”

“Eddie please, just stop it”

“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”

He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.

“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”

He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night.

“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one”

Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you.

“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet”

You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.

Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this.

You wish the floor could swallow you whole.

Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade.

You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice.

He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.

Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him.

You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.

He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.

For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.

But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.

“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends”

“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”

You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.

You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.

The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.

The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.

“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask.

“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.

“I pass”

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated.

“I don’t think so”

His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?

“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think. “Let’s forget about it”

You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you.

When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.

“Wait”

You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.

Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.

If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe.

He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.

You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man.

Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?

He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.

“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment.

But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin.

“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.

Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.

His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?

It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.

“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!”

“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.

“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly.

“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.

“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down.

“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.

“Anything you want, princess”

He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.

You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.

“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.

You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.

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