#it’s poker night at the Munson’s

[2jihiir0]

“What do you say, Stevie… Should we show them what a desperate slut you really are?”

see full version here!

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Hockey Casino Night AU Part 1

so for people who might not be part of the general hockey fandom, Casino Night is a fundraiser a lot of clubs do where fans can by a ticket to play casino games with players and raise money for the team’s charity foundation. it’s a chance for fans to interact with the players in a more social environment and it’s a pretty popular event for most clubs. more comments about this AU below the ficlet! c:

***

Steve Harrington was used to Casino Nights. His NHL career had spanned about a decade at this point and he’d been to his fair share of fan-facing fundraisers. In his younger years it was a fun night to let loose a little during the season (with the coaches blessing, no less). He’d used his easy charm to hook up sometimes but mostly he wandered the venue and enjoyed feeling wanted by the admiring crowds. In his veteran years, Steve usually b-lined his way to a back poker table and sat near the dealer, hunched over his cards, making friendly but limited conversation with the rest of the table. Most of his teammates brought a significant other, a girlfriend or fiancée, to help take pictures, hold drinks, and jump in with any awkward silences throughout the evening. Steve Harrington didn’t have a partner, but he did have a cadre of rookies (one of which lived with him at his condo Henderson (said-rookie) affectionately called the Bachelor Pad), a tortoise named Fred, and the team’s social media manager turned best friend, Robin. 

The hurried hook ups of his youth ended up creating his girl-in-every-port reputation and Steve was willing to ride those rumors to avoid any more serious speculation into his love life. Steve was out to team management and his teammates as bi but he didn’t particularly feel like addressing his sexuality in a press conference so the genders of his affairs were a closely guarded secret. At one point Robin had tried to convince him to have NDAs ready to hand out to anyone he brought back to a hotel room after an away game. Steve had ignored the suggestion. Honestly if his bisexuality were to come out via some sort of tell-all tabloid at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to break the news. In reality, who Steve hooked up with was of very little interest to the general population. At the end of the day, he was nearing retirement and was hoping he could finish out his contract and melt into the relative obscurity most minorly successful NHL alums were able to do. He wasn’t going to have the long drawn out career of someone like Ovechkin but he would be able to retire and live happily without much concern for future finances. He’d thought about taking a couple of years off and then maybe starting to coach youth leagues or college teams depending on how far the Harrington name could get him. Steve’s musing was interrupted by Henderson aggressively knocking on his bathroom door.

“Steveeeeeeeeeeee,” Dustin yelled.

“What, Henderson?” Steve answered.

“Help?” Dustin asked and pointed to a full on rats nest that had somehow developed in his crispy gelled curls.

“Oh, man, how did this happen?” Steve asked.

“I dunno, dude, please fix it? Mike and Lucas won’t let me live it down if I show up like this.” Dustin moaned.

“Alright kid, come here, we gotta get some of this gel out of your hair first,” Steve said as he bent Dustin’s head over his sink. 

Steve was able to get enough of the gel out and run a comb through Dustin’s curly mop to approach something that could be considered a hairstyle. They were getting close to running late so Steve rushed through the process of throwing on his tux and pressuring Dustin into wearing his nicer game day suit while calling their driver to meet them out front.

“Alright, kiddo. You ready for your first casino night?” Steve asked.

“Yea! Mike and Lucas are dragging Will out so it should be fun to hang out and meet people.” Dustin answered.

Will was Robin’s social media intern. Not all of the staff had to go to the event but similar to how Steve and Robin had become inseparable at team events, Will was pulled into the Mike-Lucas-Dustin orbit in a similar way. The group had even taken to playing D&D one-shots on long travel days since Mike had some experience DMing in a high school club. Steve was a little impressed with himself for being able to remember some of the terminology for the game; however, he did give the group shit for playing their nerd game instead of going out to celebrate after away wins.

“That’ll be nice.” Steve said as the elevator door opened to the lobby of his building.

The big black SUV was already out front waiting on them so Steve herded Dustin through the lobby and into the car. 

“Hey Jon!” Steve greeted his driver. Jonathan had been with Steve for a while, long enough to have been roped into his ragtag adopted family. There was a little tension between them for a while when Steve found out Jon and Nancy had started dating seriously. Nancy had been Steve’s longest relationship and they’d stayed friendly after they broke up. Nancy had wanted bigger and better things than being a SOAP to an NHL player and honestly Steve couldn’t blame her. Jon had been enamored with Nancy since he met her through Steve. Steve hadn’t loved that they’d gotten together but that had been years ago at this point. They had two girls that Steve was low key obsessed with and offered to babysit as much as his schedule allowed so he had let go of his (admittedly low-stakes) rivalry with Jon.

“‘Sup, Steve? Dustin?” Jon asked.

“Jon! Can you please convince Steve that he is absolutely overdressed for this shindig?”

“I dunno, dude, I think he might be the expert?” Jon joked. He’d driven Steve long enough to know not to get in between Steve and his rookies.

“Ugh. You’re such a pushover.” Dustin said as he buckled in.

“I just know who out of the two of you pays my bills, kid.” Jon winked at Steve in the rearview as he pulled out into traffic.

Steve settled into his seat and used the drive to melt into his public-facing-Steve-Harrington persona as Dustin prattled on about their cup chances this season. Steve let him ramble on even though he personally hated to jinx anything mid-way through the season.

“Alright, gentlemen, we’re here! Just give me a call when you’re ready to head out.” Jon jumped out to open Dustin and Steve’s doors, a formality Steve only allowed when Jon drove him to official team events.

Steve took one more deep breath and steadied himself for the evening as Henderson was already running off to join the rest of the team. Steve was a little nostalgic for his rookie days when everything seemed so fresh and new. Now he felt like he needed to crack his back after getting up from sitting too long and he was absolutely looking at hip surgery if he got another bad check. Regardless of how old Steve felt, he put on his media smile, straightened his jacket and got ready for introductions, already mentally planning out his escape routes for the evening.

***

hi friends! my sister and i recently went to our first casino night and i have had this brain worm in my head rolling around for a while and this giant first chapter just appeared, lol

in terms of world building, if you’re familiar with hockey twitter i am thinking of steve as a joe pavelski type and dustin as one of his rookies. lucas and mike are also team rookies but i haven’t really picked any positions for anyone since it’s casino night and i don’t have to lol. so if anyone has any specific head canons for positions please share!!

don’t worry -- eddie will be here in the next part! 

like last time, i’ll post on AO3 when i get a few more parts finished.

[rebelfell]

game night

eddie munson x bisexual!reader x lesbian!chrissy cunningham

18+, MDNI 2k

Just a saucy blurb taking place in the universe of this story.

cw: MFF, platonic!hc, oral (f receiving), handjob, use of a dildo, allusion to pegging, polyamory? sort of kind of?

The steady ticking of the egg timer on the coffee table felt about a million miles away.

You could still hear it, but barely registered the time it was counting down.

Truthfully, all you could think about right now, all that you could focus any of your attention on, was Chrissy’s hot tongue as it laved over your clit in time with her fingers curling inside of you.

She had draped herself across the chaise of the sectional sofa, letting her newly dyed locks spill over the edge like a chocolate waterfall. With an eager smile and shining eyes, she had beckoned you forward and positioned you over her with your knees on either side of her head.

You let your heat hover over her lips and leaned back, supporting yourself with your hands so as not to drop the full weight of your body on her, but also so Eddie’s view wasn’t obscured.

Jury was still out on whether that was actually a kindness to him or not…

“You sure you only set it for ten minutes?”

From the other side of the room, Eddie made a huffy and miffed little sound through his nose as he shifted in his seat, subtly tugging at his sweats in an attempt to offer himself a little bit of relief.

“Don’t…haaaah…don’t be a sore loser, Ed,” you scolded gently, a teasing smile on your lips as you winked at him from your seat on Chrissy’s face.

She had flown into Indianapolis on Thursday for a business meeting and decided to take a few extra days off to make a long weekend of it—ostensibly staying in your spare room, although she’d been there for two nights already and the guest bed still had yet to be slept in. As per usual.

The past few months, she’d been volunteering more and more for these sorts of work trips. And whenever she did, you and Eddie would drive up and either stay the night in whatever lavish hotel suite her company set her up in, or drive her with you back to Hawkins for longer stays.

Vibrations rippled across your pussy lips as she hummed excitedly beneath you and her fingers slipped from their spot inside your core to wrap her lithe arms around your thighs, tugging you closer so she could lick deeper into your heat.

The moan it drew out of you made you toss your head back and Eddie’s eyes narrowed, lit with a combination of lust and envy.

“This is bullshit,” he muttered, shifting again.

“It’s your own fault,” Chrissy chided, pausing the efforts of her tongue to tip her head and look at him. “Who goes all-in on a pair of twos?”

Eddie grumbled more, casting his eyes at the abandoned cards strewn across the coffee table.

The poker game started out with fairly normal betting, using leftover Halloween candy as chips, and all three of you joking over blush pink glasses of rosé while a shamelessly bubbly playlist poured out of the stereo speakers. You had gone out fairly quickly, perfectly content just to watch and listen while sneaking candy from their respective piles.

But once you dropped out, it didn’t take a minute for Chrissy and Eddie’s competitive natures to come out and to up the ante, as it were.

With their full piles of candy already pushed into the center, the two of them narrowed their eyes at one another over their cards, both shooting daring, challenging smiles at the other.

They agreed the winner of the next hand would get ten full minutes to do whatever they wanted with you—but any attempt of the loser to touch themselves would add more time to the clock.

A loud, high moan burst past your lips as Chrissy thrust her fingers back inside you and stroked that precious spot that had you seeing white behind your eyes. Your thighs shook against her cheeks that rounded as she grinned, relishing in the gush of your arousal around her fingers.

“Ooh, you like that don’t you, sweetie?” Chrissy cooed up at you and then tipped her head to look at Eddie again, shiny eyes dancing with mischief. “She’s kinda needy tonight. What’s going on, Ed? I hope you’ve been taking care of our girl.”

“I take care of her just fine,” Eddie assured, his sour look deepening as his cock twitched.

Chrissy shrugged and she returned to the task at hand while your eyes landed on Eddie’s—big and round and wet and pleading. He was milking that pathetic lost puppy angle for all it was worth.

Giving him a small smile, you cleared your throat to get Chrissy’s attention and her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open, feeling the way that you shivered with delight when your eyes met.

You gazed down at her, the sight of her lovely face between your plush thighs and the way her seaglass eyes glistened as she peered back up at you making your stomach quiver and flip with excitement. With a steady hand that no longer trembled with nerves the way it had the first few times you’d done this with her, you reached out to brush your knuckles across the softness of her cheek that was still plump and hydrated from the facemasks you’d done the night before.

“Chris…can he play too?” you whispered, playing it up with a pout of your own. “Please?”

The plaintive lilt of your voice and the way your lashes fluttered at her as you asked sooo sweetly might have indicated Chrissy was the one running the show. But as you had learned in the last few months, there was little (if anything) you could ask for that she or Eddie would deny you.

She pursed her lips, taking a moment to reply like she was deep in thought before she broke out in a beaming smile, placing one last kiss to your puffy clit before unwinding her arms from around your thighs so she could shimmy out from under you.

The two of you smoothly swapped places so you were laid out on the chaise with your head at the end near the edge. Finally, you looked at Eddie and crooked your finger to beckon him over.

His eyes bulged in his skull and he nearly tripped over the footstool to his chair he got to his feet so quickly. Scrambling over to the couch, clumsily tugging his sweats to the middle of his thighs, his chest heaved with his panting breaths like the anticipation was actually killing him.

Chrissy giggled at the overeager display, slipping off the couch and disappearing down the hall.

“Areyousure?” Eddie asked, his words all running together as he kneeled in front of you, his hard cock bobbing at the level of your mouth.

You nodded as you reached out for him with your right hand, only to rethink it and extend your left instead. You could very nearly see the diamond on your third finger reflecting in his deep brown eyes as your hand wrapped around his length. And a strangled moan rumbled from deep in his chest, the sound dissolving into more breathy and desperate panting at the sight.

He loved watching the ring he’d given you glitter while you jerked him off.

A few slow, lazy strokes was all it took to have him leaking all over your hand, still painfully hard from watching you and Chrissy without being allowed to offer himself even a second of attention.

Rhythm holding steady, you stretched your neck to look at Chrissy as she emerged from the guest room wearing nothing but an intriguing smile and carrying a black silk drawstring bag.

From it, she produced a purple silicone toy and a bottle of lube. Your eyes widened at the sight, your abdomen tightening in anticipation as she brought it over to the couch and sat beside you.

It looked like a dildo, but a sort of double-ended one? It had a rounded bulb at one end shaped almost like an egg, tapering off and then flaring into a hump that would rest right on your clit. From there, it curved into a standard phallic shape of a shaft with a slightly enlarged head.

Chrissy squeezed some lube out onto her hand and thoroughly coated the bulb with it.

“This okay?” she asked, slowly rubbing the tip of the shorter end through your folds.

You pictured it in use—one end tucked snugly into your heat, the other sticking out between your legs. Chrissy sliding down on it sooooo slowly, the pressure building up inside of you like you were actually inside of her. Her hips rocking in that slow, leisurely pace she liked until it got to be too much and she had to go faster; had to grind her body into yours until you were thrusting your hips, pushing the toy deep inside her cunt until she cried out for you to make her come—

“Yes,” you whined, breathless as your mind filled with images so filthy you could hardly catch your breath. “Yes, I want you to ride me, please—”

Chrissy’s eyes gleamed, her gaze never dropping yours as she pressed the toy inside, making your mouth fall open in a gasp at the stretch.

Your folds fluttered around the bulb, sucking it deep inside while Chrissy made sure the other end was positioned correctly for her.

“You look so pretty with a purple cock, angel,” she cooed, dropping a delicate kiss to the tip that you swore you could actually feel.

You shimmied your hips, making the toy wobble slightly, gently batting Chrissy’s button nose with it and eliciting a delighted giggle from you both.

Above you, Eddie let out a low groan and the look on his face was nothing short of euphoric.

“Is, um…” he cleared his throat, a nervy sort of chuckle breaking through as his eyes followed the sight of your dick standing rigid between your legs. “Is that staying here, by chance?”

Your eyes met his and your brows raised almost to your hairline not with shock, but intrigue.

That’s new, you thought.

And seemingly reading your mind in the way he was so good at, Eddie’s lips curled upwards and he rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug.

As if to say, what the hell?

“Consider it an engagement present,” Chrissy tittered, squirting some more lube onto her palm and generously coating the shaft with it. “I’ll just take it for a test drive.”

Her eyes met yours and one of them closed in a slow wink, making electricity skitter down your whole body. You clenched around the end inside of you, humming as it pressed on your g-spot.

“You ready, angel?” Chrissy husked, her hand moving up and down your cock in the same unhurried pace yours was stroking Eddie’s.

Matching you stroke for stroke.

You nodded eagerly and then tipped your head backward to lock eyes with Eddie as you gave his cock a light and teasing squeeze, salivating at the thought of having his thick length in your mouth while Chrissy was bouncing on yours.

“How about you?” you asked him in a sultry purr. “You ready to watch me fuck her?”

And you thought you knew what Eddie might say. You thought he might come in close to growl something filthy in your ear about pounding her until she screams. Or whisper something soft and full of adoration about how sexy you were. Or whine pitifully about how much he needed you.

But Eddie said nothing. He just beamed down at you, chest filling with a surge of pride seeing you like this. Confidence just pouring out of you, your face glowing with it—completely radiant.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over, his mouth meeting yours in a hungry, devouring kiss. The kind of kiss that said in no uncertain terms:

You’re mine. You’re mine and I fucking love you.

He kissed you until your lungs ached for air, until your chest was heaving and you gasped into his mouth trying to breathe. Until at last, you broke apart when you couldn’t restrain the moan that burst out of you when the toy began to vibrate.

Your mouth fell open as you looked down at the thing like it just split in two like a hydra head.

The buzzing between your legs rippled across your g-spot, making it so you could barely keep your eyes open—your firm grasp on Eddie’s cock tightening instinctively. Eddie keeled forward with a loud groan and his hand landed on the cushion next to your hip trying to steady himself.

“Oh,” Chrissy smiled, swinging her leg across you and gripping the toy’s shaft to position the tip at her entrance. “Did I not mention it did that?”

That got a breathy laugh out of you all.

And then, just as she had sunk fully onto your length, a loud ringing filled the air and all three of you looked to the table. The egg timer you had all forgotten about had finally gone off—waaay past the supposed ten minute limit. Eddie gasped as he pointed an accusatory finger at Chrissy.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Ty for reading - love you, mean it! 🛼

[moonstruckme]

Hello my love! I have a request for a quick little blurby with whoever you think it fits! Basically, the reader has an extensive skin care routine, but she’s sick so all she wants to do is lay bed, but the beautiful man is helping her do it because he knows how much it means to her! Am I projecting? Yes because I’m sick as a dog right now and I didn’t do my skin care routine at all but I just didn’t have the energy to 🥺💕

Hi honey! Hope you're feeling a bit better <3

This isn’t very relaxing lmao apologies, he’s doing his best. And maybe modern au? Because I didn’t feel like researching 80s skincare

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

“Shit,” Eddie hisses when you wince, pulling the washcloth away to kiss your eyelid. “Keep ‘em shut tight, baby, we don’t want this stuff getting in there.” 

“They are shut.” Your face pinches as he continues to scrub at your lashes with the washcloth. “I’m just not usually this rough with them, Eds. You’re going to tear out my eyelashes.” 

“Doing this?” He sounds dubious. “They can’t be very hardy, then.” 

“They’re not.” 

“Okay, okay.” He swipes the last of your mascara off a bit more delicately. “I can’t believe you went to work like this. I told you you were way too sick to go.” 

“I was fine this morning.” 

“You almost passed out pouring your cereal.” 

You open your eyes to stare him down, daring him with your whole face to push you. You’re way too exhausted for this. “I’m calling in tomorrow, okay?” 

“You bet you are, trouble.” 

You open your mouth to snipe at him, but Eddie swoops in for a kiss as he finishes with your makeup remover and you sink back into the mattress, nullified.

“What’s next?” he asks sweetly. “That watery shit?” 

“Toner, yeah. Thanks.” 

He makes a sound like you’re welcome, a bit of cheek to it. You decide it’s probably deserved, since you keep disparaging him while he’s doing you a favor. 

Eddie wets your washcloth with toner, passing it over your skin before reaching for your serum. You close your eyes as he brings the dropper just underneath them, like he’s seen you do a million times, and dribbles the glossy liquid onto your skin. He’s quick to chase it with his fingers, murmuring expletives under his breath as some of it drips onto your pillow before he can get it. You laugh, and he pinches your cheek meanly. 

“Stay still, or I’ll get it in your mouth.” 

You quickly smooth your face into expressionlessness, your poker face immaculate, and then Eddie laughs too. You open your eyes at the sound. 

Eddie’s eyes hover above yours, lashes kissing as he grins toothily. A few frizzy curls have escaped the ponytail he’s confined the rest in. They tickle your cheeks when he moves, using his finger to distribute some of the serum onto your chin. 

“You got it all over?” you ask him. Softly, like his proximity requires a hushed tone. 

Eddie's thumb digs into your chin fondly, his smile broadening. You can see his canines. “Yup. You’re all shined up, sweet thing. How long do you leave it for again?” 

“Until it dries.” 

“And how long’s that?” 

You shrug. “Ten, fifteen minutes. It doesn’t have to be all the way dry, just mostly.” 

He nods. You listen to the passing of cars outside, the beginnings of crickets as darkness falls. Eddie starts sweeping his thumb back and forth over your shoulder. 

“You look so fucking pretty,” he says quietly, “even though I know you’re the plague personified right now. How do you do that?” 

Try as you might to tamp it down, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your features. “Every night when you go to sleep,” you tell him, “I take a little bit of your hair and use it to brew a potion in the kitchen. I’m slowly stealing your beauty, bit by bit.” 

“Fucking knew it,” he growls, dipping his head to nip playfully at your neck. 

You yelp and set your hands on his shoulders, warning him breathlessly about getting his hair in your serum. 

“Fine,” he relents. “I know you’re full of shit anyway. You’ve been this killer since the day I met you.” He flashes a grin, canines and all. “And I only get more beautiful with time, so I know you’re not siphoning it off me. Nice try.” 

“You’ve got me there.” You smile back, but it’s a half-hearted effort. 

Eddie makes a low humming sound, thumb once again rubbing your shoulder. “You okay, baby? Your chest still hurting?” 

“No, it’s not as bad.” The words leave you in a thoughtless sigh, and Eddie frowns, bending over to press a chaste kiss to your sternum. The sweet gesture pushes up against the pressure already thick and uncomfortable in the back of your throat. “I’m just really tired,” you admit, and to your mortification the words come out with a teary edge. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, only a flicker of concern passing over his face as his hand moves to cup the side of your head, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. 

“Hey, that’s okay. You can go to sleep, I’ll finish up here. S’just the moisturizer left, right?” You nod, swallowing, and he mirrors you. “I can handle that. Get some shut eye, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” 

You let your eyes close, the steady movement of Eddie’s thumb on your temple easing you towards slumber, because you know he will.

[psychotic-nonsense]

Not sure if this is anything, and feel free to critique or add on or clarify and all that, but...

A few weeks post-Starcourt Steve, absolutely wrecked by the Russians and Billy. He's healing, little by little, but he knows he needs to put his pain aside to help out The Party. Especially Robin, who has not been coping with the trauma well. She's taken to spending the night at Steve's most of the time, and they help each other manage. She's not the best with physical comfort, nor is Steve with verbal comfort, but they're managing.

Yet despite the constant offers of help, Steve always refuses to "ask for too much" and often downplays his pain, forcing a smile to keep anyone from worrying. He's bottling up everything - probably handling it worse than Robin, even though he insists he's used to it and knows how to fix himself. Every day he gets a little worse, and every night he brushes off help.

It's during one of these late nights that disaster finds them again. It's Steve and Robin in his living room, and they're just about falling asleep on the couch when the ground begins rumbling, hard. An earthquake, shaking Hawkins and getting the entire Party in a frenzy. The radios are blaring with the kids' voices and Steve's trying to get Robin to stop screaming into the walkie, when suddenly there's a hole opening up in Steve's living room, and the earthquake stops. Steve and Robin go quiet, and the kids are urging for a response as they all rush to meet up at Steve's.

But he and Robin can't speak, too busy staring at the hole. One that looks way too similar to the Gates... but it glows blue instead of the usual red. Steve, ever the protector, is carefully stepping around the hole to grab a fire poker for defense. The second he does, the Party bursts in, just in time to watch the hole suddenly crack open further, sucking Steve in and closing itself behind him-

As Steve Harrington lands in the bedroom of Post-ST3-release 2019 Eddie Munson.

Eddie's living rough, bunking in his childhood friend Ronnie's basement. An orphan, can't hold a job, in his second senior year of high school purely because he knows he has nothing else to do after it. His only source of comfort so far has been DnD - either the DM hosting he does at the local library for the other poor lost suckers, or the one Netflix show with its elements that has captured his heart.

Eddie's a pretty big Stranger Things fan - it has its faults but is otherwise a really fun and interesting show - but ever since ST2, he's especially been a Steve Harrington fan. He feels like he goes mad just thinking about the implications of what that man has gone through, what all those kids have been through, and how Steve has put aside himself to focus on the kids. How much Steve has changed, and how under appreciated he is.

Since binging all of ST3 the day it released, Eddie's had a field day on breaking down this newest reformation of Steve. He adores Robin - clocked her as a lesbian from episode 1 - and loves that Dustin and Erica have been bringing out his bitchy side, while still keeping him in check. The Russian torture and strange parallels with Billy have made him cry on more than one occasion, and Steve's half-high speech in the bathroom legitimately felt like Steve finally acknowledging his change, even if for but a moment.

Ronnie's teased Eddie way too much about his "obvious crush on Joe Keery" but this feels way too personal for him to just be crushing on an actor. This is Eddie falling for the Fallen King of Hawkins himself, and it's much more embarrassing. Steve Harrington becomes his muse in every form of art; drawing, writing, character inspiration and improvisation. The Duffer brothers aren't the greatest at the rest of the show, but they've damn well got this guy down.

Hell, Eddie was halfway to crossing the last personal barrier to outright obsession (x Reader fanfiction) when the earthquake hit. In hindsight it wasn't the worst thing in the world, but Eddie had never experienced one before. He immediately dove right under his bed, covering his ears and curling up in a ball like a coward ("Nancy Wheeler would be ashamed," his weird ass brain supplies). He hears rumbling, things falling over, wood splintering and the world seemingly cracking apart all around him-

When a body suddenly lands hard on his bed with a loud scream of fear, cutting off as the whatever it is rolls straight off to the floor, and the world gives one final strain before going completely silent.

Terrified, Eddie's eyes are shut tight, cowering as the body on the floor just a foot away from him groans and gasps for air. It takes a sudden hiss of pain for Eddie to finally, carefully, crack one eye open.

Only to come eye to eye, through the gaps of his bedsheets, with the very muse he'd just been thinking of. Steve Harrington.

There's an immediate scramble of panic; Eddie bashing his skull into his bed frame trying to get out and away from the obvious hallucination, while Steve wobbles on his feet to defend himself against this strange humanoid Upside Down monster.

"What are you?! Where am I?!"

"What am- Are- You- No, you're not real- JESUS H. CHRIST MAN, GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you're gonna see how real this is if you don't tell me what's going on!"

"You think I know?! You fell into my room!!"

"Yeah, from your Gate!!"

"WHAT FUCKING GATE- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!"

That gets them both to shut up, just staring at each other. Eddie pressed up against the wall in fear with his hands up and out wide, Steve with the fire poker pointed straight at his neck and his hand held up cautiously. Eddie sees it, smells blood in the air, and ignoring everything, reaches out for it. Steve jabs at the air with the poker, but it's halfhearted, his energy clearly draining, too exhausted with the whole situation to try much further. Finally his arm drops, but Eddie doesn't move, watching Steve's face crumple in a way that aches everything inside his heart.

"Where am I...?" Steve pleas, tone just as desperate as the one from the Russian bunker, even when lacking its power.

Eddie fumbles for the words, but eventually just sighs. "Somewhere you wouldn't believe, my friend."

High and complacent on adrenaline and shock, Steve and Eddie just move in silence. Eddie grabs a wet cloth to clean the blood, Steve cutting off a bit of his sweatpants to use as gauze. It's just a gash from falling with the fire poker, nothing drastic, but the two stare at the cut in Steve's palm, easier to see than the one who's hand is on theirs.

Introductions are exchanged when they can finally stop shaking, and Eddie somehow drops the bomb on where and when Steve is, and what his entire existence is to this reality. Steve has a very brief existential panic attack about it, but is strangely comforted by Eddie's confidence about it all - "Even without El's powers, those kids are smart as hell. They'll figure out a way to make their own Gate and get you back home."

Then Steve just spends the next week or two in a reality almost 40 years in the future, where he and his entire existence is a sci-fi TV show. Some funny exchanges I've been thinking of:

Steve: Wait, so we're characters in a show, right? That means we have actors.

Eddie: Oh, uh, yeah, you do...

Steve: ...Think I could see them?

Eddie: Uh- Sure, I guess? Not sure what you're expecting, it's a live action thing, they look just like you.

Steve: Never getting used to your future phone... Huh, Joe Keery? Looks like a cool guy- woah, is that what my hair looks like short??

Eddie: Yup, again, literally just you.

Steve: Funny how we both have the most basic names too. Steve and Joe? Like, look at Dustin's actor, what kind of name is Gaten?

Eddie: Rude, the guy plays your little brother.

Steve: Quit bringing your fake show theories into my actual life.

Eddie: It's true though.

Steve: ...Yeah.

----------------

(Steve goes crazy after a few days of being locked in, and begs Eddie to take him out to "see the future." While they're walking around town, a group of girls suddenly freak out and rush them)

"It's Joe Keery! Guys, look it's Steve Harrington, from Stranger Things!!"

(Eddie's halfway to panicking, but Steve immediately handles the situation)

Steve: Sorry to disappoint, ladies, not him. Don't worry though, I've been getting that a lot since the show came out.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! Hope we didn't make you uncomfortable, mister..."

Steve: Mark, and not at all! I get asked this a lot too, but do you girls want a picture? For bragging rights, getting to meet "The Steve Harrington?"

(They agree, Eddie takes it for them, the girls go on their way)

Eddie whispering: That's gonna be everywhere in 5 seconds, I hope you know.

Steve whispering: Eh, it's a crowd my actor didn't have to deal with. Besides, felt pretty good.

Eddie: Familiar experience?

Steve: For a better reason.

-------------

Steve, showing Eddie's laptop screen open to the FunkoPop website and the Scoops Duo, halfway to tears: They make figurines of me and Robin?

Eddie: Yeah, of all you guys. I've got a little Dustin on my desk.

Steve, beginning to cry from how adorable he finds it: YOU DO?

---------------

(Ronnie comes back from work early while Steve and Eddie are talking in the living room. Eddie freezes as Steve makes eye contact, and Ronnie just stares)

Ronnie: Um, hi?

Steve: Oh, hey! You must be Eddie's roommate, nice to finally meet you! I'm Mark.

(That allows a breath to finally enter and escape Eddie's throat in a bit of a laugh. Steve's really leaning into this Mark persona)

Ronnie: Ronnie, and likewise... Sorry if I'm acting weird, you're just a really good cosplayer. Thought you were actually Steve for a second.

Steve hesitantly: Nah, just a doppleganger.

Ronnie, shrugging and walking away: Well okay then, I'm way too tired to talk much more. Eds, just keep your nerd shit out of the sink-

Eddie: And stay quiet, yeah yeah, go rest, breadwinner.

(Ronnie goes upstairs, out of earshot)

Steve whispering: What's a cosplayer?

Eddie, suddenly also very tired: Tell you later.

I'm thinking that Eddie had sketchbooks, notebooks, and Word Docs absolutely stuffed full of ST character evaluation, which he immediately hid upon Steve's arrival. Maybe Steve gets bored when Eddie's out for whatever reason, and snoops around. That's when he finds it all crammed at the back of Eddie's closet. The kids, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Joyce, Hopper, hell Billy and Murray are in the pile. Drawings of them in their adventures, active and mundane alike. Pages upon pages of character description, Eddie's handwriting gushing about the parts of the show and characters he loves, hates, wishes was fixed, all of it.

But the part that gets Steve is one specific sketchbook and notebook, both dubbed the Steven Soliloquy. It's the same type of information as before, but only about him, and it's filled to the brim. Eddie talking about his development, his change of heart, the complete shift that Nancy and the Upside Down and the kids allowed him to have. The affects of his trauma, and how much he stuffed it down in favor of everyone else. Talked about his relationships, ones he cherishes, loathes, never thought of or never got the chance to make. Talked about "AUs," alternative realities where he got everything he ever wanted. Eddie's words, his sketches, devolve into adoration-fueled envy, wishing he could be near such an amazing man, that he was strong enough to be such an amazing man. How much his heart aches for Steve.

And if this were a normal situation, Steve would be uncomfortable, creeped out. But knowing the context of it all, Steve can't help but be enamored. That his family's journey, his entire story of survival - even when fictional to Eddie - is so valued makes it all feel a little more worth it. That there was someone out there during all of their terror, rooting for their victory, crying with their pain, screaming with their fears, understanding them because he lived through it all right beside them.

Eddie finds Steve in his room later that day, surrounded by those books. Staring at what Eddie considers his WIP magnum opus; a half-finished colored pencil recreation of the Last Supper with the entire Party, including all of the people they lost, happy and healthy. Eddie's two seconds from apologizing for how creepy it all must be - seeing how many of those books are open - but then he sees the tears in Steve's eyes. Gratitude and adoration and care, all bundled up and very suddenly staring right at him with the widest smile he's seen.

They talk about it. Eddie finally admits his minor obsession with the show, and how much they've helped him come to terms with being a self-dubbed loser. He honestly gushes way too much about what he owes to them about his life, but Steve listens to it all with complete adoration. At the end of it, Steve asks Eddie about the possibility that they've been adamantly ignoring for Steve's entire stay: actually watching Stranger Things.

And that's how they spend their last week. Starting from season 1, they sit in the living room and binge the entire thing. Steve learns an entirely new perspective about his family's adventures, not only from the show's canon, but from Eddie's theories and rants in between monumental moments. Eddie holds his hand during the scenes that focus on his worst nightmares; the Demogorgan in the Byler home, the breakup, his fight with Billy, the Russians. Steve provides his perspective on how he felt during it all, finally admitting to the pain he's gone through instead of just focusing on the others hoping it'll all go away.

Not sure where exactly it goes from here. Maybe some codependency grows between them. Maybe Steve falls a little in love. Maybe they just stay friends, the only ones who understand each other aside from their Platonic Soulmates.

Maybe, when another earthquake finally hits, opening up a Gate in Ronnie's backyard, Steve and Eddie finally must go their separate ways. Eddie promising to keep watching over them from across the realm, Steve promising to make a happy ending for their story.

Or maybe, Steve can't help but see what little Eddie has, how special Eddie actually is, and offer to bring him along. Into the very show he loves so much. Maybe Eddie convinces Ronnie that he'll be okay, swearing to be entertaining should he join the show in an important way, and making her swear that if he doesn't survive to bring him back in as much fanfiction as she can write. Maybe Eddie enters Hawkins, Indiana, and becomes a bit self aware about being in a TV show. It takes a while for everyone to warm up to the future man - and for Eddie to get used to Midwestern US in the 80s - but he becomes a close member of the Party quite easily. Maybe his involvement in season 4, his death, is avoided, and maybe it's not.

But his adoration for Steve Harrington never goes away. Not in canon, or in fiction.

[medusapelagia]

02 Creel’s House

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Ghost) and @au-gust (Prompt: Colorless) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve & Robin, Steve/Eddie if you squint TW: AU, Major character already dead, body horror, monsters, ghosts, homicide, spiders Words: 1688

Homicide suicide.

That's what every newspaper titled the article about Eddie Munson's death. And they weren't totally wrong. Someone actually killed someone else and then killed himself, but both the police and the newspaper assumed it was Eddie who killed Chrissy before killing himself. The truth was the contrary.

Maybe it could sound unrealistic that a cute blond teenage girl killed a young man, but they didn't know that Chrissy was possessed by an evil creature. A creature that even years after his death, Eddie is still hunting down.

He has done his best to keep everyone away from Creel's house. He has screamed in the night, turned on lights and electronic devices, and left messages on the fogged glass of the shower. And it has worked every single time! For almost forty years nobody has stepped inside Creel's house, which is why the entire building is decrypted and full of mold. Totally unsanitary. But this doesn't seem to worry the young couple that just made an offer to buy the place.

They want to renovate it and sell it even better, and in the meantime, they'll take temporary residence in the living room, the only room that still maintains the appearance of a room because it's the room where Eddie and Chrissy died, and Eddie is still waiting for the monster to creep through the wooden cracks and makes his appearance.

Eddie never saw the monster that took the girl he loved so deeply, but he saw the effect he had on her, puppeteering her like she was a toy and not a person. He remembers her white empty eyes and the low growl that came from her mouth before she hit him with a poker in the back of his head. After that he has no idea of what happened, his memories are blurred, and all he knows is that he woke up in a colorless world and quickly found out that's true what they say about ghosts: you become a ghost when you have some unfinished business, and Eddie's business is find the monster that took Chrissy. Exorcize him if he has to! No idea how, but he knows he'll manage somehow.

It takes Eddie a couple of days to understand that the young couple isn't a couple at all. They are joined at the hip but they don't share any physical contact, like Eddie and Chrissy.

It makes Eddie sad remembering Chrissy, but he finds comfort in knowing that at least she's not there, trapped between life and death, so her soul must be resting somewhere else.

The young man, Steve is his name, is really good-looking, totally Eddie's type if he wasn't a ghost. Eddie spends hours studying him. Right now Steve is kneeling in the basement, trying to get enough water pressure for Robin, the girl, to take a shower. Little does he know that Eddie broke all the pipes years before.

Eddie chuckles, amused at Steve’s stubbornness, and Steve turns toward him.

For a little moment, Eddie wonders if Steve can see him, they are eyes into eyes and he’s stepping closer enough that Eddie could touch him if he was still alive.

Steve's hand reaches out toward Eddie and he freezes, staring at the hairy arm… that passes through him to grab a screwdriver from a metal shelf.

Eddie screams, angry and frustrated, and the entire house shakes. Once the earthquake stops, Steve runs upstairs, screaming Robin’s name and dragging her out of the house.

They’ll find out soon that the mysterious earthquake was only at their place and that everyone knows that Creel’s House is haunted.

***

After the basement incident, Eddie decides that it’s time for Robin and Steve to leave, so he tries his old scheme: noises in the night, flickering lights, and whispering in the night. Surprisingly, neither of the two of them seems to be scared by Eddie’s efforts. Instead of running for their life, screaming from the top of their lungs, they start filming the weird things that keep happening in the house and post them on their socials. They get a great number of followers, that’s a new word Eddie just learned, that quickly transforms into a pilgrimage of curious people who want to live the experience of meeting a ghost.

Eddie never shows himself when those outsiders come to Creel’s House, but every single one of them swears they felt his presence. 

The bright side is that finally, after almost forty years, the presence of so many people in Creel’s House attracts the monster Eddie was waiting for. 

It starts with a cold feeling that both the humans and the ghost can feel even if it's August.

Robin says it's the old wall, but Steve seems not convinced. He keeps filming around the house, finding spiders crawling from under the wooden floor and moving toward the attic, the only room Eddie never managed to explore and whose key was lost ages ago.

Finally, the two humans are starting to feel scared.

"I think we should leave. Like right now." Robin says, looking at the creepy row of insects that keeps marching toward the attic.

"Ok. Wait for me in the car," Steve replies, but Eddie can tell that something is wrong. His body language is different, and when turns toward Eddie he seems to have the same white empty eyes Chrissy had when she killed him.

"Hello, Edward." Steve says with a voice that's not his, but it's Creel's.

"Did you say something?" Robin asks, turning just in time to see the empty look on Steve's face. She starts to scream, running toward him, but Eddie concentrates all his energy and manages to push her out of the house, closing the door behind her.

The woman keeps screaming Steve's name, punching the door with desperation, but Eddie won't let her back inside, no matter what.

"Forty years and you never left this shit hole?"

"I was waiting for you!" Eddie snarls back.

"Oh, do you think I didn't have any other place to be, Edward? Your energy is attractive, but the world is full of people whose lives a living nightmares and who are an easier prey. If it wasn't for this young man here I would have never set foot back in here and you would have waited for eternity." The creature with Steve's face cackles.

"Leave him alone!" Eddie yells, trying to shake the possessed body.

"Why should I? His desperation is so tasty. He hides it under a fake smile but his life is a mess. He's lost and I can make all of this end. I'm a savior."

"You're a fucking killer!"

"That's just a consequence. When I feed from them I free them of their demons. Sadly. They die. Humans are so fragile, you know?" Creel says, snapping Steve's arms like it was a toothpick.

"Let him go! Let him go or…"

"Or what, Edward? What are you going to do? Huh?" Creel's voice asks, amused.

Eddie tries to hit the creature inside Steve's body, but his punch passes through Steve's body without hitting him. Still, that gesture isn't completely futile because for a fraction of a second Eddie sees the inside of the attic, a room made of reds and blues with a huge pumping machine. He doesn't really know what he saw, but Eddie knows it is something important because Creel freezes.

"No!" he screams, but Eddie is already sprinting toward the attic, taking a few shortcuts through the walls that Steve's body can't take.

The sturdy wooden door is still standing in front of him, like an impenetrable wall, but there's a tiny hole the little insects are using to get inside. Eddie never tried to change his form before, he just used to run through the walls, but he concentrated, making himself small enough to finally break through into the attic.

On the other side, Creel, still in Steve's body, is trying to break down the door, but Eddie's eyes are pinned to an old body, almost mummified, connected to so many tubes, and lying inside a sort of pentagram.

A body trapped between life and death.

Eddie stares at the fragile body with pity, and finally, he remembers why Chrissy and he went to Creel's house all those years ago.

All the kids in town knew the story of the crazy Doctor Victor Creel who made experiments on homeless people to cure his ill child and Chrissy wanted to write an article in the school newspaper about it. She has done tons of research in the public library and all she needed was to get into the house and take a few pictures to add them to her article, and for doing that she needed Eddie's lockpicking skills.

But they never managed to get any pictures. Chrissy was attacked by Creel as soon as she got inside, she killed Eddie and then she killed herself, all because of the creature lying on that rusty bed.

With a last push, the wooden door finally yields and Steve's body falls on the ground, one arm broken and the other badly bruised. Creel stares at Eddie, and then he leaves Steve's body to get back to his own and protect himself, but this time Eddie is determined to put an end to the murderous story of the family.

He gets into Steve's body, something he never did before, and uses his good hand to erase the chalk pentagram from the floor.

The body lying on the rusty bed writhes and shrieks, staring with his white eyes at Eddie, cursing him one last time, before dying.

For a moment Eddie remains in Steve's body, enjoying the feeling of being alive once more, but then he sees Steve's memories. Creel was right, the young man's memories are full of pain and sorrow, but also of joy and friendship, and Eddie can rob him of his own life.

"I hope I'll meet you in the next life," Eddie whispers, and for a moment their soul connects and that's enough for Eddie to be sure that he'll find him again soon.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

you're a cowboy like me.

you're a cowboy like me, perched in the dark, telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear like it could be love, i could be the way forward, only if they pay for it.

Steve is good at reading people. He always has been. He can spot an easy mark a mile away. He knows what to look for, knows that it’s always the older, lonely women, the ones who wear their pearls and their diamonds to lunch on a Tuesday afternoon, draped in black velvet and satin, ancient fur coats hanging off their shoulders, that will eat up his words and his casual touches like peppermint candies. 

Steve’s been working his way through Westchester and the Hamptons for three summers now, which generally means he knows practically everyone there is to know. Everyone worth knowing. So when a stranger in black leather and pressed trousers crashes a Friday night at the country club, everyone takes notice.

Steve’s in the formal dining room, surrounded by Marie—his date—and her girlfriends and their husbands, when Bill Weatherstone stands from his spot next to his wife to greet the stranger who’d just been led to their table by the club’s hostess. Conversation at the table comes to a stop so abruptly Steve would find it funny, if he wasn’t so suspicious of this new stranger. The newcomer has long, curly dark hair pinned out of his face in a ponytail at the back of his neck and big, innocent-looking eyes. When he smiles and clasps Bill’s hand in both of his in greeting, Steve makes note of the dimples on his cheeks. 

The stranger isn’t wearing a sports coat, which means he’s technically not supposed to be allowed to sit at their table, but Bill is the president of the club’s board and Steve knows he can generally do whatever the hell he wants. Money will do that.

“Ladies, gentlemen, this is the new associate at the firm,” Bill’s booming voice rings out, so loud that the chatter from the surrounding tables dies out a little as other diners turn to look at them. Steve notices that several other club members eye the stranger suspiciously as well. “Just started up with us last week. Eddie Munson, here’s the gang.” He makes a sweeping gesture around the table. “Gang, Eddie Munson.” He claps Munson on the shoulder before returning to his seat.

Munson turns his blinding smile on the rest of the table while he pulls out the empty chair next to Bill and drops down into it. He’s not graceful about it, but there is a certain charm in the rough-around-the-edges, wrong-side-of-the-tracks vibe he’s got going on. If you like that sort of thing. Steve doesn’t, but he knows that there’s several women sitting in this room who would eat Eddie Munson up like creme brûlée. Steve can't help but scowl down at his plate. 

~*~

After that first night, Steve starts seeing Munson everywhere. He’s at all the club events, in the club’s dining room every Friday night, and he’s somehow gotten himself invited to all the best parties. He’s always close to Bill or sometimes Jasper Jenkins, the club’s treasury director. 

Steve is still suspicious of Munson, but he hasn’t caused any problems with Steve’s particular favorites this season, so Steve just continues to give the outsider a wide berth and mind his own business. He’s done this long enough to see others come and go. Sometimes he can feel Munson’s eyes trail after him as he leads one of his ladies to a darkened corner or out onto the terrace for a closer look at the stars and some privacy. 

About three week’s after Munson first enters the country club, Steve is invited to a poker game in the club’s basement. He doesn’t usually get invited to these kinds of things; he tends to stay close to the women, accompanying them on their days out shopping and listening to them complain about their husbands or how their children never call at their private teas and lunches. Cozying up to the married men isn’t really his idea of a good time and it’s certainly not what he’s here for, but occasionally, he has to put in an appearance or two.

Steve’s shit at poker. He loses three hands before he has to tap out of the game altogether. The room is full of club members and younger women, the air smokey from cigars. The club’s pianist plays in the corner, but no one pays him any mind beyond stuffing a few bills into the glass he’s got sitting on the piano when they pass him by. The women are half naked and giggling, skin smooth and pink as they sit in the laps of old men. The poker room has several doors leading off of it and Steve shudders to think what’s happening behind each one. Steve may sleep with married women, but at least those women have class; they’re hurting and neglected, cast aside by their greedy husbands. They’re looking for companionship, closeness, more than sex; all the things Steve’s more than happy to give them if their husbands won’t. These men are just pigs. 

Steve’s been down here only a few times before. He vaguely remembers the way to the restroom and he tries to follow the winding, wood-paneled hallways using muscle memory. He pushes open a dark wooden door down in a quiet corner, a little further from the poker room than he remembers. The room is dark when he enters, a single table lamp lighting up the space. Steve’s mouth drops open, shock paralyzing him in the doorway. In the corner, Munson is pushed up against the wall, head thrown back with Bill Weatherstone’s lips attached to his neck. Munson’s hand is gripping at Bill’s thinning hair and his eyes meet Steve’s. A slow smile spreads across Munson’s face as he meets Steve’s gaze and he shoots Steve a wink before making a shooing motion with his free hand. Steve backs out of the room quietly, pulling the door closed behind him, his face burning red. His hand pulls at the knot in his tie, mouth suddenly dry as he makes his way back to the card game. Steve doesn’t even need to make his excuses to anyone back at the game, just grabs his jacket and flees the club.

Later that night, after he’s taken Marie out to the opera and delivered her safely home to her Manhattan townhouse, Steve lays in his bed and remembers the look on Munson’s face, the way he’d smiled at Steve with heavy lids, vision cloudy through the dark. 

Steve was good at reading people. He always had been, until he’d met Eddie Munson.

~*~

shoutout to @richhietozier for leaving some beautiful tags on one of my rotten brain au posts.

[corrodedseraphine]

timezone | #3 and I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader, chrissy cunningham x robin buckley

chapter summary: Eddie decides to get you back no matter what. You, on the other hand, are looking for an escape.

the story is also avaliable on ao3

previous chapter | masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

After a sleepless night, Eddie was already out of bed at dawn and determined to head straight for a meeting with the manager to settle an issue that should have been finished long ago.

Unfortunately, it ended in a brawl. The manager didn't even want to hear about ending the pretended relationship with Chrissy. As one of the most popular and beloved couples in show business, they had a certain amount of responsibility, including various contacts and collaborations that generously enriched the label's bank account. Money, however, was the last thing Eddie could think about. The only thing that mattered to him was you. No matter what the price, he had to do everything he could to try to clarify the situation and win you back.

"We need to end this bullshit!" he shouted getting up from the table.

"It's not an option, we are just preparing another collaboration with an advertising campaign for Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day is six months away!"

"Such things must be decided in advance." The man watched with a poker-faced expression as the young guitarist boiled over. "I won't let you risk all your contracts because of some girl," he said.

"She is not just SOME girl." he growled through his teeth.

"Then why did you leave her? Why did you get into a relationship with Chrissy if she's not just SOME girl?"

Taken aback, Eddie didn't know what to answer. He loved you more than anything, but he knew that from a third party's perspective this situation looked very different.

"I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed," he slammed his fist on the table, recalling the words of the song that was flying in his head on loop. "I am cutting the bullshit, now."

"If you do that, you'll destroy everything we've worked for all these years. Ask yourself if it's worth it."

"It's worth a lot more." Fury clouded his eyes when he heard the way he was talking about you.

"If you even try in any way to affect a change in your relationship with Chrissy, you have no business coming back here. You'll be over."

"Fuck you."

Eddie was used to people's stares when he walked on the street, he usually didn't care, but today it seemed too suspicious and intense. Every now and then, looking around him, he came to a newsstand. What he saw there made his blood rush. On the front pages of the papers was a picture of you from the beach, with a big, eye-expanding EDDIE MUNSON'S SECRET LOVER.

Without a second thought, he threw bills on the counter to the salesman and collected all the copies with him only to throw them in the trash, cursing under his breath. The unexpected flash had acted on him like a flea on a bull, and the fact that he recognized the paparazzi who took the photo completely made him lose control. Throwing himself at the man, he felt fury. When his rings met the face of the person who was the reason that the world would now view and hate you for the breakup of the beloved Hollywood couple. He was snapped out of his angry trance by the sight of blood on his hands and the police dragging him away from the paparazzi. He didn't even defend himself when the handcuffs were placed on his wrists.

After three hours in jail, Jeff showed up at the station to pay bail and take Eddie home.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked as they closed the door behind them.

"What do you want me to say since you know everything?" asked Eddie sarcastically as he walked into the living room, where the rest of the guys, Chrissy and Robin were.

"What the hell dude?" asked Gareth, Eddie that due to his old reputation in Hawkins, he always tried to avoid all kinds of fights and unpleasant situations. He was shocked by his friend's behavior. "What has gotten into you?!"

Eddie wordlessly dodged everyone and headed to the kitchen to pull frozen vegetables from the freezer onto his sore hand.

"uh, I- I might have an idea." said Robin uncertainly, reaching for his backpack and pulling out a newspaper.

"Fuck." said Gareth seeing the cover.

"Yeah, fuck." replied Munson groggily. "Anyone else have any pointless questions?" silence was enough of an answer. When he returned to the living room he stood in front of everyone gathered and took a deep breath. "I'm leaving the band."

"What?!"

"You heard me. I have no other choice."

"But- why?!"

Still full of negative emotions, he recounted the meeting with the manager and explained that nothing would be able to change his decision. The priority for him was to fight for love, but he didn't want to drag others along with him because the consequences could be painful. Just because he was ready to walk off the stage didn't mean his friends were too, and he didn't want his consequences to be theirs too. However, he didn't expect them to have a different opinion on the matter.

"Dude, do you really think we'll let you go?" asked Jeff crossing his arms over his chest.

"You are insane." added Simon.

"Screw Pete and his label, if you leave, we're leaving with you!"

"You guys are popular enough that you should have no problem finding a new label." Robin said.

"Guys, for real I don't expect you-"

"Shut up and start thinking about how to get y/n back." interjected Gareth. Eddie didn't even try to hide his emotion. The gentle smile on his face showed the shadow of hope that had awakened in him despite the awful start to the day.

"I have an idea." Chrissy said. "But it's very risky and…public."

"I'll do anything." he replied without thinking.

Walking out of the house you didn't expect to be the most recognizable person on the street, the gaze of other people burned holes in your body from all sides however what completely knocked you out of rhythm were groups of girls shouting insults in your direction. Your anxiety was getting stronger and stronger. You fixed your eyes on the sidewalk and headed as fast as you could to Steve's bar, where you promised to help out as a waitress, since crowd today was exceptionally heavy.

"Here you are! I thought you wouldn't come! How are you feeling?" Layla ran up to you from the entrance.

"Fine, but some strange things are happening…" you reply confused.

"Oh my God, you don't know." your friend replied while covering her mouth.

"Don't know what?"

"y/n! How are you holding up? It's all fucked up!"

"Steve she doesn't know…"

"Oh."

"Can someone explain?" you asked impatiently. What the hell was going on?

"Come with me." the girl grabbed your hand and dragged you to the back room, where she handed you a newspaper.

Bitch.

Slut.

Whore.

Suddenly all the terms you heard about yourself made a lot more sense to you. The pressure in your heart that you had felt since the kiss tightened even more. However, you could not allow yourself a moment of weakness. You knew that if you broke down now, you wouldn't get back together for a very long time.

Seeing the worried expressions on your friends' faces, you blinked a few times to chase the tears away and grunted. You had to be strong.

"I'll go get ready for work." you said quietly.

"You don't have to-" began Layla, but you didn't let her finish by disappearing out the door.

Completely focusing your attention on remembering orders you successfully managed to push invasive thoughts aside. More and more people were gathering in the premises, and you couldn't help feeling that some of them had come here just to see you.

Everyone wanted to see with their own eyes what Eddie Munson's mistress looked like. Everyone wanted to see if the person on the cover was better than Chrissy, if the person responsible for the cheating was at least worth it. Most people said no. Some didn't even try to hide their comments. Your head was bursting with comparisons to the model and loud whispers that brought your biggest insecurities to light.

Of course you were no match for Chrissy. Never once in your life did it even cross your mind to compare yourself to her in any positive sense. In the negative for that too often. Again you felt like a teenager with ruined self-esteem. Unfortunately, however, this time all the voices in your head got out and materialized. After a long time of hearing that you were insufficiently attractive and Eddie had lost his mind cheating on Chrissy with a mere waitress, you were relieved to see that it was time for a break.

Carrying the last order to your table, you didn't notice how three girls with fury in their eyes burst into the local. Before you had time to react in any way, one of them grabbed the glass that was on the tray and poured its contents right in your face.

"Slut." she said with a strange satisfaction.

The next events flashed through your head barely registered. Steve threw them out of the place, Layla quickly led you to the bathroom to help you dry off. All the while she was saying something to you, and you were nodding without even fully knowing what. Her voice was distant and all the ambient sounds were drowned out by your heartbeat. Later, you accepted Steve's offer to drive you home without protest. You couldn't stand another walk full of eyes filled with curiosity or hatred.

Steve, having his set of keys to your apartment, went inside first. Closing the door behind him, still somewhat stunned, you heard only his surprised and raised voice.

"What the fuck, Robin?!"

"Jesus, Steve!" she exclaimed.

Following their voices, you entered the living room where a sight that you were definitely not prepared for awaited you. The sight, however, was something that brought you back down to earth. Robin with disheveled hair, puffy lips, glossy eyes and an unbuttoned shirt was looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. Right next to her stood Chrissy in exactly the same condition. Chrissy.

Beautiful, charming, sweet, lovely Chrissy.

The favorite of the whole country, and maybe even the world, Chrissy.

The Chrissy who, according to Eddie, you never had to be jealous of.

Chrissy, who was allegedly madly in love with him, was now standing with a guilty expression on her face waiting for your outburst.

Could this situation get any more complicated?

Without giving you time to explain, you went straight to your room and pulled out a bag from under your bed, into which you started throwing your clothes. You didn't know where you would go, however, what was certain was that you wouldn't stay in this apartment for a while longer.

Ignoring all requests for a chance to clarify the situation, you left a panicked Robin and Chrissy with a confused Steve alone. It's been a long time since you felt as lost as you do now. Not thinking much, you went straight. to the bus station, and there you chose the only direction you knew.

Sitting opposite the mirror, Eddie noticed Chrissy's pale and nervous face in the reflection. He knew the expression perfectly well.

"What's wrong?" he asked before she could say anything. The blonde swallowed nervously and began to recount the situation that had occurred in the apartment.

"She saw what?!"

"Eddie, please-"

"Couldn't you keep your hands to yourself for a while?!"

"We didn't know she'd come back early! She was supposed to help Steve!

"What did she say?" He asked with a sigh.

"Nothing…she left the apartment without a word."

"Oh my fucking god," he sighed and hid his face in his hands.

"Are you guys ready?" A man entered the room and asked. "We'll start in two minutes."

taglist: @i-me-mine @greatpizzascissorstaco @alanamarie @hiscrimsonangel @micheledawn1975

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 9 Prompt: Hanukkah Sentence Starters

2. How can you hate Dreidel?  

Tags: Established Relationship, Jewish Eddie Munson, Playing Dreidel, Hanukkah Fluff, Eddie Munson Is A Sore Loser

wc: 765 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

It’s rare for so many people to be gathered at the Munson house for something fun rather than the end of the world, but here they are. Steve, Robin, Dustin, even Wayne and Mr. Clarke. Tucked into the small living room and sprawled out on the floor. Limbs over limbs as they gather around the coffee table — well the former, the latter are curled up on the couch, observing.. A beautiful, hand-crafted wooden dreidel sits in the center surrounded by at least a pound and a half of gelt (another pound of gelt wrappers littering the floor). 

“Shouldn’t you be really good at this game?” Robin teases, watching the dreidel spin out of Eddie’s hands and off the table for the fourth time of the night. 

“You are the only one who's played it before,” Dustin adds, never one to turn down teasing Eddie. 

Eddie shoots them a glare that would rival Medusa if he were lucky enough to have her powers. Unfortunately, the only superpowers he has is his taste in music and his ability to land Steve as his boyfriend. 

“I fucking hate this game,” he groans. 

After scooping up the dreidel from where it landed with a soft thud on the carpet, he hands it to Steve. Despite never playing Dreidel a day in life, let alone any game for that matter (“I don’t know what to tell you, Eds. The Harrington’s were not family board game type of people,” Steve had told him one night which promptly broke Eddie’s heart and led to a marathon two-person game of Monopoly of all things), Steve is weirdly good at this. So good, he currently has a ridiculous mountain of gelt stacked in front of him like damn poker chips. 

“How can you hate dreidel?” Steve asks, tongue pocking out from his lips as he gets ready to spin. “It's so much fun!” 

“Oh yeah, it’s so fun.” Eddie rolls his eyes before watching as the dreidel carefully spins on the table, landing on the Gimel. Again. 

“It is!” Steve smiles, gathering the remaining gelt from the collective pot in the middle of the table. 

“Are you hustling us?” Dustin asks, arms crossed as Steve stacks his latest gelt pieces. He turns to Eddie, “He’s hustling us, right?” 

“Oh, now you want me on your side?” Eddie scoffs, shooing Dustin away. The kid has a point though. There’s no way this is just beginner’s luck. “Are you hustling us?” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m winning fair and square.” 

“I think the dreidel is rigged.” 

“We’re all using the same one! If that were true, we’d all be winning,” Robin chimes in. 

“I don’t know, maybe Steve has like a magnet or something,”

“It’s a wooden dreidel!”

“See, this is why I hate this game,” Eddie huffs, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Don’t remember you sayin’ that last night when you kicked my ass,” Wayne chimes in, voice gruff but eyes full of mirth. “Listen to your boy and stop being a sore loser.” 

“Whose side are you on?” Eddie scoffs. If he didn’t know better, he’d be willing to bet his measly gelt winnings that Uncle Wayne liked Steve more than him. He knows the truth though, Wayne just loves giving him a hard time. He can’t say he blames him. 

“The only sides I do are mashed potatoes, you know that.” 

A collective groan rips through the room. Eddie the loudest as always, even when he nuzzles his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Scott is rubbing off on you in all the wrong ways.” 

“Hey,” Dustin shouts. “Don’t talk about my Lord like that.” 

“You people are all weird,” Robin laughs, reaching for the dreidel to resume playing. With a swift flick of her wrist, the dreidel spins and spins and spins before landing on 

Hey. “See, I told you it wasn’t rigged.” 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see when he goes again.” 

“Keep talking to me like that and he’s not going to kiss you for a week.” 

Eddie balks, immediately groveling for Steve’s forgiveness while Dustin and Robin look on with utter disgust. Wayne and Scott look on with all the fondness of an older couple who never got moments like this. 

“Alright, enough,” Dustin huffs, a minute later. “Are we going to keep playing or are you two going to make out now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Eddie trails off, looking at Steve with playful hunger. 

“Sorry, baby,” Steve says, pushing Eddie off his lap. “I have a game to win.” 

[rogueddie]

Movie AU Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 📼

Free Hawkins

CassieWater354, Dandyfello

It started as a simple passion project. A discovery of what was possible with simple code. Eddie had been the one to bring it up to Steve. "The AI could be like, ALIVE dude!" He explained excitedly. Steve looked on in confusion, "Like they simulate emotions and personalities and are like real people but they're code!!"

A few more hours of erratic explaining later and Steve agreed. Well, he agreed to begin with but it was nice to see Eddie so excited. Steve loved his computer science class and it didn't fail him as Eddie rang off ideas, Steve created them and Eddie made it all look good. A well-oiled machine. It was hardly near completion but with the complexity and beauty of it they realized it to test and build interest, and funds wouldn't be so bad either. It was a hit, a huge hit. They did interviews, got a lot of hype and attention and it was mostly positive feedback. Mostly.

Words : 12,015 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Who's Sorry Now

BatCatMooney63

Hawkins is like any place in small town America, quaint, quiet, and full of secrets. Murders, disappearances, unsolved cases swept under the rug of normalcy for the sake of security.

But it all gets ripped away one night when Chrissy Cunningham answers the phone to find herself talking to a mysterious voice. Which sets off a chain of events that truly reveals the line between good and evil.

Words : 51,160 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Asking You to Love Me

chattrekisses

Steve is a famous actor. Eddie runs a game store. After an incident involving orange juice, an unlucky romance blossoms between them. Notting Hill AU.

Words : 22,397 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Fate's Fool

callcalliope

Sometimes true love is interrupting your own concert to chase the hot vampire watching in the audience.

Words : 1,285 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Episode I - Something happens and I'm head over heels

vaderstheme

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Words : 6,773 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts.

Imnotcreativesotakethisname

After winning tickets for the R.M.S. Titanic in a very "lucky" game of poker, Edward "Eddie" Munson and his friend because third class passengers on Titanic.

Words : 18,449 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

beetlesandstars, witchjeons

“It’s a feeling, a heartbeat,” Eddie murmurs one night, pressing a hand over his own heart. “Like this. Gu-gung, gu-gung.”

Steve snorts, before copying Eddie.

Tapping away, Eddie steps closer. “Don’t try so hard,” he says softly, taking Steve’s hand, moving it to rest over his own chest.

Words : 27,880 Chapters : 6/7 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

A Shadow Is Cast Wherever They Stand

BritChick91

“You should think more about whether you’d survive a horror movie. You never know when you might find yourself… in one.”

When the phone rings for Chrissy Cunningham in October 1996, it starts a wave of murders in the sleepy town of Hawkins. Who is Ghostface? And who is their next target?

Words : 23,713 Chapters : 9/9 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Sincerely Yours

WickedVixen

When a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal are forced to spend a whole Saturday in detention together, there's no telling how horribly wrong the day will go. Tensions are high, especially with the added stressor of power-hungry Principal Higgins breathing down their necks. Will the teens manage to make it through the full nine hours unscathed? Will they come to resent one another, even more so than some of them already do? Or will they become unlikely acquaintances? Will new friendships be forged? Perhaps a few...more-than-friendships?

Who's to say? After all, stranger things have happened.

Words : 41,252 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

[fluffansmut-old]

Like you haven’t done that

Summary: You’re the second Byers child and the middle sister in the Byers trio. Most of the time your brothers are great, but when you start to sneak around, dating Eddie Munson and planing r-rated activities with him, your big brother suddenly becomes more annoying than ever.

Even though you’re not doing anything that you know that he hasn’t already done himself.

Content warnings: Eddie x Byers!reader, protective & annoying Jonathan, the Byers kids (including reader) have daddy issues, mentions of sexual activity, mentions of birth control options, hickies, slightly awkward sex-talk.

A/N: realised I hadn’t posted this to tumblr, and since it’s all out on AO3 already I’ve decided to drop all three parts on tumblr right away.

Word count: 4227

AO3 | Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3

It was friday morning in march-85.

You were sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with your brothers this particular morning, when the phone rang.

Hoping it to be who you thought It were you sprung out of your chair to answer.

“Why is she so eager to answer the phone nowadays? Will asked Jonathan who shook his head in response.

“No idea, but something is definitely up.”

You answered the phone.

“Byers”

“Hello sweetheart” you heard on the other side.

“Hi babe”

“I was just calling to ask if everything is arranged for tonight or if I need to kick Wayne and his poker buddies out of the trailer for the night” Eddie said, you could hear in his voice how excited he was.

“It’s arranged, Will is playing DnD at wheeler’s, Jonathan is studying at the library with Nancy and mom is working late so she won’t be home until at least 11.30.” You confirmed.

You and Eddie had carefully planned out the whole thing. The two of you had been trying to find a moment to yourselves, a moment to have sex and not worry constantly about being quiet or interrupted. (Or caught for that matter, Joyce didn’t know that you were sexually active or with Eddie for that matter)

so now when all the people living in your house were otherwise occupied, you jumped on it.

“Great, then I’ll se you at school gorgeous.” Eddie said, you could clearly visualise the smirk on his face.

“See you, babe, I love you” you said.

“Love you too.” Eddie replied then the line when silent.

When you turned around to return to your breakfast you were met by your big brother, who was leaning up against the wall giving you a pointed look.

“Who is babe?” He asked.

“None of your concern” you replied, walking towards the table.

Jonathan was of course not ready to drop it there.

What do you have planned that mom doesn’t know about?” He asked. Sitting down across from you at the table again.

“It’s nothing Jonathan, nothing.” You said, trying to put an end to the conversation. You didn’t want Will to hear you argue.

“Okay well if it’s nothing, then why are you telling babe that you are home alone tonight? I thought you were gonna study with Stacy?” Jonathan said, calling your bluff.

“First and foremost, I am too, going to study with Stacy tonight. But stop eavesdropping on my phone calls! Is nothing fucking private in this house anymore?” You exclaimed as you rose from the table and put the bowl and spoon in the sink.

“Don’t swear infront of Will, and I’m not buying anything so tell me what you are up to.”

Will who still was stained since your parents divorce hated fights in general and tried to help.

“Hey Jonathan it’s okay, Dustin says shit all the time, I’m used too it?”

“There see, he’s used too it.” You said

“And besides, you aren’t my parent and you cannot tell me what to do!”

Jonathan huffed.

“I am still one and a half year older than you” he said.

“I’m riding my bike to school today” you said, refusing to have this conversation continuing on all the way to school.

You ruffled Will’s hair when you passed his chair and shot him a

“Have a good day kiddo” before you walked out the door.

The first time you saw Eddie that day was when he walked into the cafeteria as you were walking out. He grabbed your arm and spun you close to him.

At first you got a little frightened but when you realised that it was Eddie you smiled. He pressed his forehead against yours and you locked eyes with his soft, dreamy ones.

“Hello gorgeous” he said.

“Hello handsome” you replied and kissed him.

“I can’t wait for tonight” he said. ”the thought of what we are about to do later has been consuming my mind all day”

“What are these thought consuming ideas of yours ?” You asked.

His eyes grew impossibly wider with lust and he said,

“I don’t think those words are appropriate on school property” he said with a smirk, teasing you.

“Are you really one to talk about what’s appropriate, you know since you´re known for trampling all over the tables in the cafeteria when it suits you.”

His smirk grew even wider when you called him out on his bullshit and then he leaned in closer and whispered,

“Let’s just say; I want to ravish you” he said.

“Oh please do” you replied. Giving him a kiss.

“You want a preview?” He asked, and before you even thought it through you nodded and said;

“Yes!”

Right where your collarbone meets your neck he gave you a hickey.

When he pulled away you heard him gasp a little.

“Holy shit, sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make it so obvious.” He said and ran his fingers over it.

“Is it really big?” You asked, now slightly nervous about the questions that your brother would have for you.

“Bigger than I was going for” he said.

“I’m sorry sweetheart”

“It’s fine, I just gotta hide it from Jonathan” you said.

You gave Eddie a goodbye kiss for now and you parted ways, he went into the cafeteria and you and Stacy went towards to the bathroom to try and cover up the hickey.

On the way there you did a quick search of the surroundings, just to make sure Jonathan weren’t watching.

What you didn’t notice was the king of Hawkins high himself, that saw the whole thing play out.

And when Steve later met Nancy and Jonathan outside of science class things didn’t go as you planned.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” He said, smiling at the pair.

“Nothing much, just trying to get through this school year.” Nancy replied with a small sigh, gesturing towards the pile of paper she had in her arms. “How are you?”

“Same, just trying to survive until graduation. “ he said, and then he remembered what he witness earlier “Hey Byers, I saw your sister with that Munson kid before, when did they start dating?”

The question threw Jonathan a little... he wasn’t stupid, he knew that babe most likely were someone that you were in fact dating? But, that it was Eddie Munson made him feel uneasy.

“You aren’t fucking with me now, are you Harrington?” Jonathan asked.

“Wait you didn’t know?” Steve said, slightly surprised.

“Are you positive that it was Eddie Munson?” Nancy asked sensing the tension from Jonathan.

“I’m certain , that cult like t-shirt that he always wears, leather jacket, and jeans vest, cos apparently that’s something you can wear at the same time. “ Steve said, describing the eccentric kid they all had seen in the cafeteria countless of times before. “It was him.”

“And you are sure that it was my sister?” Jonathan then asked.

“Yes, I have seen your sister before, she wore this patterned blouse this morning right?” Steve said, starting to describe the blouse. “Light blue with geometric shapes on it in pastel colours?”

“Yeah” Jonathan said, remembering the blouse from breakfast.

“Then I’m sorry my friend, but it was her too.” Steve said, giving Jonathan a sympathetic look.

You had successfully avoided your big brother during the whole school day and was more than satisfied with that when you hopped on you bike again that afternoon.

Your mind was only focused on preparing for Eddie’s arrival later.

When you came home you dropped your bag by the door and took a deep breath, enjoying the silence.

You organised you room a bit, ie, shoving junk and old stuffed animals into the closet.

You straightened up your bed a bit, not that it still would look like that at the end of the night but still.

Right then and there you realised that you didn’t have any condoms…

Sure it was Eddies responsibility to bring some, but you didn’t want the night to be spoiled even if he forgot them.

You weren’t on any birth control, simply bc that required a signature from a parent, and taking that up with your mom was a no go at the moment. You thought about it for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Jonathan might have some…

You walked into your brothers room and headed straight for his nightstand, but as you pulled out the draw you only found this old photography magazine. You cursed a little under your breath, couldn’t he just have some condoms you could steal without his knowledge?

You checked the pockets of some of his most worn clothes but only found nickels and gum wrappers.

His desk draw wasn’t any successful either.

”How can he not have any condoms?” you thought, and returned to the nightstand, you picked up the magazine to check underneath it. It was then you hit the jackpot, out from between the pages fell condoms, onto the floor.

”That sneaky little shit” you mumbled and picked up two condoms, putting them in your pant-pocket. As you bent down to pick up the rest you suddenly heard a very familiar voice.

”I knew that you were fucking lying” Jonathan said. You jerked at his words just dropping the remaining condoms and the magazine right back into his nightstand.

”He can’t even bring his own fucking condoms?”

”I have not clue what your on about?” You said, deciding that denial was the way to go with Jonathan. You began to walk out of the room but Jonathan grabbed your wrist making you stay.

”I´m not stupid if you think so, I know that its drug-dealer-cult-leader Eddie Munson who you are planning to sleep with.” Jonathan said, getting properly worked up about it all. ”And its obviously him that also already branded you like cattle.”

He pointed towards the hickey by your collarbone.

”You are such a fucking idiot, you don´t even know him! ” you spat, jerking your hand free from his grip. ”And its not like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”

”Don´t bring me into this” he responded. ”You are the one to make stupid mistakes”

Your blood was boiling and you wanted to slap your brother across the face.

”You are the stupid one, going around judging people on what other people say all the time.” You said, getting really defensive over Eddie. ”Weren’t we just the freaks,huh? When Will went missing? We were the zombie-boy-siblings for about a year Jonathan”

”That was totally different and you know it.” He said.

”How exactly is it different?” You said.

Jonathan stumbled over his words, not really sure of what to say.

”Its not worth explaining to you” he landed on.

”You are such a dick, do you know that “ you said, walking out of his room.

”I want my condoms back.” Jonathan then said.

”They are all in your nightstand.” You replied, walking towards the kitchen.

”I saw you putting some in your pocket, I’m not stupid, hand them over” he said.

”And what will the outcome be of that?” You asked him, ”do you think that you can stop me from having sex just because you take away the condoms?”

He huffed.

”You are really stupid, you really would have unprotected sex just cause the contraception just isn’t right the beside you?” He said.

” I´ve heard the pullout method is effective or what do you say picture-perfect-big-brother” you spat at him, knowing full well what he and Nancy did at Murray Baumans house about 3 months ago.

”What are you talking about now?” He said, playing innocent.

” Cut the bullshit, you know that I talk to Nancy right?” You responded.

“First and foremost that is none of your business, and it’s not what we are discussing here?” Jonathan said.

“I thought unprotected sex was exactly what we were discussing?” You shot back.

Before Jonathan could reply your fight got cut off by your mom coming home with a pounding migraine.

“Hey, hey,hey” she shouted and then held a hand to her head. “Who is having unprotected sex?”

You quickly pointed a finger towards Jonathan as he did the same towards you, just as when you were kids.

“Okay, you two sit down, and don’t speak a word until I’m back.” Joyce said and pointed towards the couch.

You and Jonathan started to bicker about calling each other out as you mom went towards the kitchen.

“I said not a word!” She snapped at you, as she grabbed a hairclip from the table, putting her hair up.

You and Jonathan shut up quickly after that.

Joyce had looked forward towards a quiet house with only you and Stacy home so she could rest, but now she had to give a improvised sex talk to her two teenagers.

“Let’s have them close in age Joyce, they’ll have so much FUN together” she muttered, imitating Lonnie, whilst she was rumaging around trying to find painkillers.

Of course there was some truth in what he had said, you and Jonathan could always depend on each other to look after one another, which sometimes was nice and sometimes ended up in situations like this.

It drove Joyce crazy, the way the two of you never could leave it, she was just happy that both of you took it out on each other and both considered Will to be your favourite sibling, since Will would take fights so much more to heart.

“So, one at the time please explain why the two of you are fighting?” She said as she sat down on the table opposite you.

“Well for starters, she’s lying to you” Jonathan blurted out pointing at you.

“Oh c’mon for fucks sake” you said.

“Mind your language a bit please, now is this true ?” Joyce said, searching your face with that concerned mom look that you hated.

“Jonathan is totally throwing me under the bus here and it’s so unfair” you replied, hoping to shift blame.

The problem with your brother was that he knew every curveball you had and had learned how to easily dodge them.

“You didn’t answer the question?” He taunted.

You gave him the finger when your mom looked away and then you said,

“I’m not lying more than Jonathan is?”

“I’m not lying, she is.”

“Okay okay, quit bickering” Joyce said, shutting you both up. “I do not care who is lying and by the looks of it you both are, now what brought on this whole unprotected sex discussion?”

It was like a lightbulb went off over your head, and then you turned towards your brother.

“You want to tell her of should I?” You said putting your hand in your pocket.

Jonathan who had enough of your bullshit didn’t think before blurting out

“She stole my condoms to go have sex with the school drug dealer”

“Well Jonathan had unprotected sex with Nancy at a strangers house” you shot back, if he could play dirty then so could you.

“You are freaking unbelievable, how is that relevant at all?” Jonathan said.

Joyce was overwhelmed to say the least, these were sides of her children (and Nancy Wheeler for that matter) that she never expected to see.

“Okay I’m gonna need so much more information to make this make sense.” She gave you and Jonathan this maternal look that you had seen a thousand times before. It was best for the two of you to tell the truth.

“If I’m gonna say anything I want him to shut the fuck up whilst I talk” you started, glaring towards Jonathan.

Jonathan was about to protest when Joyce cut him off.

“Dial down on the cursing and the tone please” she first scolded. “But you do make a valid point, now Jonathan, let your sister talk”

Jonathan thought about protesting again but decided against it, since it probably wouldn’t help.

“I’ve met this guy…his name is Eddie, and despite popular belief” you said, shooting a glare towards Jonathan, “he is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. He is kind, considerate and I feel very safe with him.”

Jonathan who at this point didn't believe the sincerity in your voice rolled his eyes at your statement, but kept quiet.

“Okay…” Joyce said choosing her next words wisely. “He sounds lovely… but what worries me is the talk about drugs, has he ever offered you drugs?”

“He never has” you said triumphantly, looking at Jonathan before returning your eyes towards your mom.

“Has he ever dealt drugs with someone else in your presence?” Joyce asked.

You shook your head, cause sure people pulled him aside in school whilst you were in earshot but he always dealt the actual drugs in the woods by the school, and you weren’t there.

“Is he even like.. uhm high in front of you?” Joyce asked, searching your face for any indication of insincerity.

You pondered the question for a moment… It wasn’t like Eddie was high most of the time, it was more of a business than a hobby to put it that way. But sure it had happened once or twice that you surprised him at the trailer park, to find him with a joint in between his fingers.

“No, he isn’t” you responded.

“Then there isn’t much more I can ask from him, in that department” Joyce settled on.

Jonathan wasn’t satisfied with the fact that your mom was willing to drop the drug dealing after that conversation, he cleared his throat to say something, but was only met by a held up finger in front of him, telling him to keep quiet.

“Now honey, I assume that you are planning on sleeping with this Edward? It was Edward right?” Joyce asked, calling you by the nickname she had for you since you were a kid.

You blushed at the question, wasn’t it obvious?

“You can call him Eddie, everybody does” you first corrected. “But yeah…”

It was strange to admit it to your mom. It was even strange to say it out loud.

“Can I ask if you’ve ever done anything of that nature before?” She asked. Blood drained from your face, you didn’t want to admit any details in front of your mom and brother.

“No details necessary, just yes or no” your mom added and put a hand on your knee.

You thought about you and Eddie, about hickies, handjobs and fingerings, about Eddie’s hands on your tits and that time you came from grinding on his jean-clad thigh.

“ uhm, yes, but nothing too intimate so to say” you settled.

You mom nodded, then she turned towards your brother for the first time in a while.

“And am I right to assume by the conversation that I walked in on that you and Nancy are sexually active?” She asked.

You snickered silently,because finally it wasn’t only about you.

Jonathan pushed you slightly in the side with his elbow to shut you up.

“Yes, you are” Jonathan said, searching the wall in front of him trying to avoid looking his mother in the face as he answered the question.

“Okay, the two of you, let’s talk about protection” she stated going into this educating version of herself that you both hated.

“Mom, c’mon, we know already” Jonathan muttered, you saw him turning red in the face.

“Um no, we are discussing this” Joyce stated. Just as she was about to continue the door opened and in came the youngest Byers sibling.

“Hi Im just gonna grab my Dn… are both of you in trouble at the same time again?” Will asked, looking at both his older siblings. Who both looked flustered and ashamed.

“Why do you assume that they are in trouble?” Joyce asked. Taken a bit by suprised at Will´s question, was it really that obvious?

“ mom, your sitting on the coffetable, plus you have your hair up, you only put you hair up when you´re annoyed.” Will stated.

“Kid is good.” you said, smiling slightly at how observant your little brother was.

“They are in fact in trouble, but it's nothing that you need to worry about” Joyce said smiling at her youngest. “Go get your things. “

He ran off towards his room and your mom turned back towards you and Jonathan.

“Now where were we?” She said, “oh, yeah, Birth control is mandatory. It’s not up for discussion, I don’t want grandchildren yet and I promise you guys, non of you wants an STI”

“I think she’s talking to you” you said to Jonathan.

“At least I have condoms in my room” he muttered, “it`s more than your shitty boyfriend has.”

“Jonathan Byers!” Joyce said sternly, shutting your brother up.

“I just wanna add for the record that i didn´t borrow condoms from Jonathans stash because Eddie wasn´t planning on bringing any.” you said, defending both yourself and Eddie. “ I did it because I didnt want to be left without, incase he forgot, or it broke or something.”

“That was a very mature decision honey and I think it shows that you´re mature and responsible.” she said. ”although please ask your brother before going through his drawers and stealing things from him”

“Mkay, then” you said and rolled your eyes. You were nowhere near apologising to Jonathan.

“We can also look into contraceptive pills if that is something you might want” she said looking at you, hand on your knee.

“And if it ever comes up for discussion between you and Nancy, I want you to tell her that I will help in anyway I can, I’ll talk to Karen with her if she wants to.”

Jonathan simply nodded, and considered telling her about it.

“Now want to talk about consent” Joyce continued on, looking like she was mentally checking things off the “sex-talk-check-list”

“Once again mom we know, okay?” Jonathan groaned.

“Well good, that’s good” Joyce said. “Because like birth control it’s mandatory, I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do something that you don’t want to, no matter how big or small it is, and I don’t want you to pressure anyone into anything”

“I just wanna say if I ever find out that Munson has pressured you into doing some freaky shit then I swear to god I’ll beat him with my own hands” Jonathan said and your first instinct was to slap him, but since that would only land you in more trouble with your mom you decided against it.

“I can’t believe you” you said, “how can you even say that? It’s so unlike you to judge someone so hard with even knowing them”

Neither Joyce nor Jonathan had any chance to say anything because right after your outburst, there came a crash from your room and a very familiar,

“Oh shit”

“Speaking of the devil” Jonathan said with an eye roll.

“Shut the fuck up.” You said.

“Jonathan, that is quite enough” Joyce said, giving Jonathan a stern look. “Honey, go tell Eddie to wait in your room whilst we finish up here” Joyce said and you rose from the couch.

In the doorway to your room you saw your little brother staring wide-eyed at the long haired man who was busy putting all the cds he knocked down back.

“Hey babe” you said which made him look up.

“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, I tried to be discreet and ended up being the total opposite.” He said smiling at you, then he turned his attention to the younger boy who stood next to you clutching his campaign to his chest.

“And this must the younger-brother-Byers?”

“Uhm yes, I’m.. Will” he said, turning a little shy. He then turned to you and you spotted that curious hint in his eye. “What’s hellfire club?” He whispered trying discreetly to motion towards the shirt Eddie was wearing.

“Ask him.” You said, knowing full well that Eddie would enjoy both answering the question and your brothers reaction.

“Will this is Eddie” you said, taking a step into the room, coaxing Will to join you. “He is the absolute nicest. And you can ask absolutely ask him what you asked me”

“What’s hellfire club?” Will asked, blushing slightly.

“It’s only the coolest club at Hawkins high” Eddie said, looking very proud. “We play DnD, and I’m the dungeon master”

You immediately noticed that spark light up inside of Will.

“You play DnD?” He asked, voice high pitched and excited.

“Live for it kid” Eddie replied. “I take it as you do too?”

“Yeah, I actually planned the campaign we are playing tonight” he said, looking at the things he was holding.

“Oh no way, can you show me?” Eddie said and took a seat on your bed. Not two seconds later Will was sat next to him.

“I just came him here to tell you that we are totally busted and mom asked me to tell you to stay in here whilst she finished up the most embarrassing mom-talk I’ve ever received.” You said to Eddie.

“Yeah, yeah go be embarrassed, I don’t have time for you right now” he said and shifted his focus back to Will who already started talking about the campaign.

You smiled as you returned to the living room, at least one of your brothers liked Eddie.

[infinite-orangepeel]

a whumpy af steve harrington excerpt from ch. 1 of my soft dom eddie fic

aka this boy has a lot of unresolved trauma & eddie munson is going to help him heal

(the rest of the chapter that contains the actual smut will be linked below, i’m scared of tumblr shadow banning me again for posting the full thing in here)

TW: panic attacks, discussions of mental illness, suicidal ideation, vomiting/nausea (as symptom of panic attacks), disordered eating habits, ptsd, heavy themes, lots of emotions

★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★

It comes down to this. Steve Harrington doesn’t trust himself. Not anymore. Not since everything went to shit in The Upside Down and Max ended up on life support.

Honestly, he didn’t feel all that abnormal about it for the first few months. It was easier to ignore the magnitude of his problems when his friends were clearly struggling right alongside him. There was something about strength in numbers or a sense of community–being convinced he wasn’t the only one totally fucked up in the aftermath of the final battle.

Regardless, it kept him afloat for a while.

Robin often called in the middle of the night to vent about her own flashbacks and the nightmares they prompted. The two grew accustomed to seeking comfort on opposite ends of the telephone line, twisting the cords around their fingers and whispering “ me too, I have that one too,” as to not wake the monsters underneath their beds. Sometimes, it got so bad that the sun would rise and they’d still be trying to snap each other out of it. Yawning through the agony of another sleepless night and fixing themselves cups of black coffee to alleviate the ensuing exhaustion.

Lucas had shown up on his doorstep enough times that Steve finally had another key made. He was tired of coming home from work and seeing the boy sulking there out in the cold–grief written plainly all over his face. Steve handed him the key on a carabiner clip–so Lucas could comfortably carry it around on his belt loop–and assured him he was welcome day or night. Steve’s parents had moved out of town after the infamous Hawkins’ “earthquake,” so Steve was solely in charge of approving any and all guests at the Harrington household. Lucas, of course, was at the top of his list–he was family, they all were. As long as the boy agreed to let himself in, warm-up on the couch, and grab a snack from the pantry–he could come over any hour he needed. No more rotting outside with tears forming icicles on his cheeks. Steve wouldn’t have that.

El refused to leave her bedroom–holed up beneath a fort of blankets and wouldn’t speak to anyone for days on end–until Hopper called up the gang and they elected ‘Babysitter Steve’ to go handle it. He was the most qualified in their eyes, what with his protective older brother attitude, gentle approach, and dorky jokes. Sure enough, El didn’t banish him right off the bat–not like she had with some of the others–namely, Mike Wheeler. She let him get close without protest and when he hugged her, she fell apart against his chest–guilt pouring out of her at the fact that she hadn’t been able to save Max from Vecna. He brushed the knots out of her hair with cautious fingers and listened. She just needed someone to listen. That was all it took. By the end of the night, she was sandwiched in between him and Hopper on the well worn couch, openly laughing at the plot of Pretty in Pink.

Nancy wore a poker face for the most part, but she wasn’t completely immune to the lasting effects of trauma. She held it together in public, like the first lady at a brutal press conference–politely smiling and waving for the crowd. She’d made it her personal goal to distract the kids from what was really going on–with Max–back at the hospital. This manifested itself in her implementation of weekly game nights, arcade afternoons, and community service outings. Naturally, Steve attended more than a handful of these events–lending a helping hand to rangle the younger teens. It was only once the kids had been dropped off at their respective addresses that Nancy would let her artificial smile fall and tell Steve what was really on her mind. The loss, the fear, the worry. He’d hold her hand– platonically of course, it wasn’t like that anymore –across the center console of his BMW and nod along to the tune of her suffering. It was one he knew well, played on repeat.

Thus, Steve managed his own anxiety by keeping that of the others at bay. His role became narrowly defined as the one who would help you regulate your breathing through the course of a vicious panic attack, the one who was considered reliable in a world that had become anything but. It gave him a sense of purpose and a reason to keep moving forward. He couldn’t simply hide away in his oversized bedroom when he knew his friends were busy laying catatonic in theirs. So, day after day, he pulled himself up by his bootstraps, usually forgot to eat, chugged excessive amounts of caffeine, and set out to mend all of the broken wings but his very own two.

Eventually, there was healing. The ball started rolling around the time Max woke up. After four months of breathing tubes, IV’s, heavy medications, and machines keeping her alive–she opened her eyes one day and slowly began to inhabit her body again. Within a few weeks of round-the-clock physical therapy, solid foods, and monitored pain management–she was discharged from the ICU and returned home. Cane in hand, coke bottle glasses on the bridge of her nose, and slight gaps in memory–she wasn’t the same, but she was as close to it as she could be and that was all that mattered. She was breathing on her own accord–beautiful, steady inhales and exhales–that alone was a miracle in and of itself.

After Max settled back into her normal life, everyone else seemed to follow suit. Once the high school was fixed up by the hands of a devoted construction crew and summer came to a close, the kids started in on their sophomore year. Fall semester provided a new routine that included basketball practices, D&D campaigns (Will Byers quickly ascended to President of Hellfire Club in Eddie’s place), and tests to study for. On top of all that, somehow Steve was going to have to teach each of the little twerps how to drive, which absolutely terrified him. However, there was no way he was going to let anyone else instruct his kids on how to be safe behind the wheel. Yeah, no fucking way.

The Party finally had the opportunity to just be kids–for the first time in almost four years–and Steve was happy for them. Really, he was. Now, they could ride their bikes around the neighborhood–just for the heck of it, not because they were pedaling away from otherworldly monsters. They could waste time down by the lake and not have to search the murky waters for the dead body of their missing friend. They could be innocent and stupid and naive and not have to worry so much about the life altering consequences.

And, as happy as he was for them, Steve just couldn’t help but selfishly miss the era in which Lucas spent most nights on his couch–talking about nothing until the wee hours of the morning. The era in which El asked him to drive her to Family Video each Saturday–ready to pick out the next chick flick that would make Hopper groan. His schedule and his house suddenly felt a lot emptier without a bunch of rugrats calling upon their favorite babysitter. The silence often felt like it could swallow him whole. He hated it.

As for Nance and Robin, they had their own paths to explore–ones that unfortunately, didn’t directly involve Steve. That was okay, but it also wasn’t.

Nancy was reapplying to Emerson–early decision–and like everything else she did, she was hellbent on her college essays being absolutely perfect. She made the local library her second home as she wrote and edited and then edited some more. Steve knew there was not a chance in the world that Nancy Wheeler wasn’t going to be accepted to the school of her dreams and become an incredible journalist. She was destined for greatness. Always had been.

Robin landed herself a girlfriend and was so lovesick it hurt. Vickie quickly became the center of her universe. She had this insane gravitational pull on Steve’s best friend and he’d never seen anything like it. Robin looked like a whole new person, shining from the inside out. They did their best to include him in their plans on a regular basis, but Steve really didn’t want to burden them with his presence. Not that the girls ever made him feel that way. He was just a bit too aware of the fact that no couple looks forward to having a constant third-wheel, so he backed off when he could and lied about being busier than he was–acting like there was a laundry list of activities for him to attend to.

Truthfully, he spent most weekends alone in front of the T.V. or picking up extra shifts at the video store. Unsure of how he suddenly became the only one stuck in the past, haunted by creatures that no longer walked the Earth. It didn’t make sense. Why couldn’t he move on like everyone else? Max had been kissed by death and yet, she made it to school every day and somehow, still found the energy to ask Lucas to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Steve, on the other hand, had exited The Upside Down with minor injuries–practically, unscathed–but for some reason, he dry heaved into the toilet every morning and questioned his entire existence. Spitting up bile and wondering how long it would take before his heart jumped ship, too. He imagined it would only be a matter of time, before the center of his own being decided it was unwilling to marinate in the sad toxic wasteland any longer. Abandoning him and begging to be flushed down, along with the rest.

It’s definitely less than ideal to have some idiot ring your doorbell, when you’re right in the middle of balling your eyes out–facedown on the living room floor–and wondering why God or the universe or whatever the fuck just had to plop you down on this cursed planet in the first place.

It’s actually super embarrassing and kind of the stuff of his nightmares, but that’s exactly the position Steve Harrington finds himself in on a random Tuesday evening.

There’s nothing special about it. Just another day trying not to break apart at the seams, wasting the hours by choking on his unforgiving past. Nothing left to do, but wallow in self-hatred and stare at the popcorn ceiling.

In theory, he could just play dead and ignore the irritating chime of the bell, but on the off chance that it’s one of his friends or the pizza delivery guy has arrived early–he begrudgingly gets up and makes his way to the front door. Dizzy from standing up too fast on an empty stomach, he reaches out for the wall to steady his gait. Unable to find the motivation to clean up his appearance before wrapping his trembling fingers around the cold doorknob. Whoever it is, is just going to have to deal with the mess–just like Steve does every single day.

There’s no nice way to say it. Steve looks like shit. There’s dark circles ringing his sunken eyes that make him look like the kin of the local raccoons. The same ones that devour his uneaten groceries from the garbage cans each week. It’s a charitable donation–philanthropic even. He goes on a depression fueled hunger strike and his furry nocturnal neighbors get a feast fit for a king.

Due to his inability to nourish himself anymore, his cheeks have hallowed out, his muscles have shrunken down, and his once tan skin appears jaundiced–sickly yellow. There’s acrid bile drying on his cracked lips from the most recent upheaval of his guts. This time it was spurred on by the grotesque image of Vecna’s corpse-like face. It keeps popping up in his mind without warning, like one of those jack in the box clown toys–raking the sharp nails of nausea across the lining of his stomach.

He doesn’t immediately register who the person on the other side of the door is, which is laughable, because it wasn’t all that long ago that Steve carried the guy’s limp body out of an alternate dimension and gave him mouth to mouth. They’re not exactly strangers.

Thirty seconds go by before his brain starts back up and processes the identity of the man standing before him. As if the secretary of his memory had disappeared from the front desk and took a while searching the filing cabinets to fill in the blanks:

Mr. Harrington? Sorry about the delay. We’ve located the files. That’s Eddie Munson you’re looking at. We’re sure of it.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were-” Steve starts, roughly wiping at his bloodshot eyes to make sure he’s not hallucinating. Anything is possible when you’ve lived through what he has.

“-in hiding?” Eddie says nonchalantly, leaning against the porch–he’s taller than Steve remembers, “I was. Spent a lot of time bored as shit in a rather crappy hotel room, but Hopper gave me the all clear yesterday and I just moved back into my Uncle’s place. Sorry if I stink, it’s because I’ve been carting boxes around all day–you’ll have to get over it.”

[billyharringson]

So I've written the first chapter of a new multi-chaptered fic because apparently I'm not stressed enough with all of my unfinished fics. On the plus side this is a fill for both the @harringroveson-bingo and the @billyhargrovebingo

Square(s): C3 - Poker Night, A3 - Pirate AU

Rating: explicit

Ship: Harringroveson

Additional tags: Alternate Universe, Pirates, Pirate AU, Stripping, Strip Poker, Knife Play, kind of, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Blood and Injury, Aged-Up Character(s), Age Difference, Mildly Dubious Consent, Branding, Light Dom/sub, Possessive Steve Harrington, Possessive Eddie Munson, Top Steve Harrington, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Bottom Eddie Munson, Ownership, Pirate Captain Steve Harrington, First Mate Eddie Munson

Summary: William Hargrove was drafted into one the most notorious pirate crews on the seven seas after his father sold him to settle his debts. He had been prepared for his captain 'King Stephen' to either kill him or sell him on but instead he was accepted into the crew without question. Now he's rethinking whether or not that was a good thing when he is invited to the Captains chambers for an 'unusual' game.

AO3:

[can-of-pringles]

Thank you for the tag

Three Ships: Viktor x Jayce Talis, Catty Turner x Vanessa Cleveland, Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

First Ever Ship: I'm really not sure.. maybe Rainbow Dash x Soarin? (This has changed tho lol)

Last Song: Poker Face by Lady Gaga

Last Film: This Christmas movie on Netflix that I can't remember the name of.

Currently Reading: Henry Creel fics whenever @bebx posts them.

Currently Watching: Well... I did start Rick and Morty last night but I'm unsure if I'll continue it.

Currently Consuming: Nothing.

Currently Craving: A better day.. maybe tomorrow?

Tagging whoever wants to do it

Tagged by @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

rules: tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Three ships: Chris + Melissa (Teen Wolf), Sam + Jack (Stargate SG1), Nick + Adalind (Grimm)

First ever ship: Oh man.... Uhhh.... I think I first really got into shipping with the show Fringe. So Polivia was my first ship, Peter and Olivia.

Last song: Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift. It's a good song and I am not ashamed to admit it. Makes me think of a lot of my favorite characters.

Last film: Oh man what was my last movie.... jeez... uhh.... Might've been Hocus Pocus 2 honestly. Or Reign of Fire. Yeah I think it was Reign of Fire. Good movie. Classic.

Currently reading: Uhhh I don't really read books anymore. I stopped in the middle of Midnight Sun about 2 years ago and its still sitting on my shelf, taunting me.

Currently watching: I just finished Teen Wolf so I've been rewatching a lot of clips and stuff. I wanna watch the Maze Runner movies but none of my streaming services have it TT_TT

Currently consuming: Just drank a protein shake.

Currently craving: Can I say I am craving sleep? How about pumpkin pie?

tagging: @druigswh0ree @digital-demise @maskmare931 @b1ueoff1ine @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @yentoons @nebulousfishgills @smokeywhalee @stuffkimlikes

[etherealxwitch]

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and you have a surprise gift for him

Warnings: (SMUT minors DNI), some fluff, cursing, dom!eddie, pet names (baby, whore, slut), slight degradation, oral (m and f receiving), ball worship ,fingering (f receiving), choking, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 3.2K

(this gets filthy, enjoy!)

Today is Eddie’s 21st birthday and even though he told you not to get him anything, of course you didn’t listen. You were currently trying your best to wrap his gift, hoping he would like it. Shopping for Eddie was never easy, that was no surprise. This year, you decided to do something different, something homemade. You sought out the help of your friend Robin to put the plan into action. She was more than happy to help, especially after you told her the idea. Wrapping this gift wasn’t easy, you had to make sure not to crease it or it would be ruined. 

“He’s pulling up!” Wayne yelled from the living room of the trailer just as you finished with the gift. The gift had to stay hidden in Eddie and your shared room. If Wayne were to see it, you would be embarrassed for weeks. You ran to the living room, trying to act as normal as possible. Wayne and you had the whole thing planned out. Make it seem like Eddie’s birthday wasn’t a big deal until he walked in to see some small decorations and a cake that you had baked from scratch. 

The familiar sound of Eddie’s boots could be heard outside. You were nervous, not really having a reason to be nervous. Well, except for the fact that his gift from you was going to send him (and maybe you) into a spiral. 

Eddie walked into the small trailer and a huge smile spread across his face. “And what is all this?” Wayne walked up to Eddie and gave him a tight hug, “Happy birthday, son.”

You were next to hug him, pressing your face against his chest. “This is a little surprise party for you. As Eddie pressed a kiss to your head, you whispered into his ear, “your gift is hidden in our room.” Eddie smirked, already having an idea of what the gift could be. You knew what his idea was and boy was he wrong.

“You two didn’t have to do this, you know how I am about celebrating.” Wayne lit the candles, bringing the cake over to him. You rolled your eyes at him, causing you to both laugh, “but I am thankful.”

Wayne and you began to sing Happy Birthday and Eddie hid his face, “you two are too much.”

“Oh, just blow out the candles, would you?” Were you rushing him? Maybe, but you really wanted to take him back into the bedroom and show him his special gift.

After filling up on cake and having some fun, Wayne left for poker night. You and Eddie finally had the trailer to yourselves. 

“So, where is my gift, baby?” Eddie wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing soft kisses against your neck. “Or are you my gift?” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Of course he thought his gift would be sex.

“It’s not exactly me,” you spun around and took his hand, leading him back to the room. “It’s a version of me.”

Eddie’s interest definitely peaked. What could his gift be if it was a version of you? His mind went to a fleshlight, but would you really go that far when you give him the real thing practically every night? Eddie tried to think of everything it could be, but he literally had no idea.

Gently, you pushed him to sit on the full sized bed. Now he was wondering if his gift was a blow job, but you also do that a lot too. “You have me guessing so much, I need to know what this gift is.” Eddie was always so impatient, even more so when he had no clue what was about to happen.

You handed Eddie a rolled up and badly wrapped gift and that’s when your nerves set in. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too much? You didn’t have much time to think because Eddie was already unwrapping and unrolling the gift.

Eddie's eyes practically popped out of his head as he looked at the full thing. It was a poster of you. Not only you, but you in his favorite bikini, pouring your favorite beer down his body. Eddie felt his cock twitch at the sight, his mind completely blank. “Wow, I-, this is fucking amazing.”

You sat beside him on the bed, following his eyes over the poster, “I take it that you like what you see?” He got off the bed, rummaging through his drawers before pulling out a roll of tape. 

“Like it? Baby, I fucking love it.” He leaned down and placed a bunch of kisses on your forehead. Once he was satisfied with the amount of kisses, he was never really satisfied with that, so he crawled on the bed and hung the poster directly above it. You tried not to laugh as he sat back to take in the poster more. His cock grew harder the more he looked at it and you could tell by the tent forming in his pants. You both had a nice view of each other.

Eddie looked back at you and then to the poster, “how in the hell did I get so lucky that I get to stare at two of you now?” He pulled you close to him and hugged you into his side. “Best birthday gift anyone could ask for.”

The tent in his pants kept catching your attention. So, you took one of your hands and gently palmed it, giving a squeeze. “Who said that had to be the end of your gift?”

Looking down at your hand, Eddie pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He didn’t say anything, just watched as your small hand (compared to his bulge) palm it. You could feel his cock throb under your hand and your panties started to soak with how wet you got. Eddie had such a wild effect on you, you couldn’t stop it or him.

You brought your other hand down and began to work on his belt, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.

Eddie helped as you began to struggle with his belt. “Baby, I trust you with my life.” 

He watched you as it was your turn to get off the bed and strip off your clothes. You pulled down your panties and Eddie couldn’t help but to groan at how wet you are. A string of wetness connected from your pussy to the panties and Eddie’s mouth went completely dry. His favorite meal was right in front of him and he wanted to do nothing more than to devour you. Your voice broke him from his thoughts, “I need you to strip for me. Need to see that cock and have it in my wet mouth.

Eddie stumbled out of the bed, your words sending a shockwave through his mind and body. As he was getting dressed, you laid on the bed, your back against the mattress and head hanging off the side. He didn’t know what you had planned, but from the looks of it, you were both going to enjoy it.

You were just as impatient as Eddie. He was taking his sweet time getting undressed and taking off every piece of jewelry so they don’t get ruined. A hand, your hand, trailed down your body and spread your legs right in front of Eddie. His view of your soaked pussy made him work faster. 

“I want you to fuck my mouth, please.” You readjusted yourself, finding a better angle to hang your head. Eddie made his way over to you, his cock dangling right against your lips. Your tongue came out to lick at the slit, catching some precum in your mouth. Nothing more was said as you opened your mouth wide and allowed his cock to slide right down your throat. Eddie groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm your mouth was. It was like your pussy, which nothing ever came close to. The more his cock slid in your throat, the more you were swallowing around him.

“Fucking hell, feel so good.” You didn’t have a view of him, but you knew his head was thrown back in pleasure and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Eddie slid his cock in more, until his balls hit your forehead, causing you to moan around him. “You like that, don’t you? Like my balls being so close to your mouth? Bet you wanna taste them.” Your thighs rubbed thighs together at his words. Eddie knew you loved balls, his balls, in your mouth. 

Your hands found Eddie’s thighs and gave them a gentle rub. One of his biggest weaknesses was your mouth. It was skilled and always knew how to please him. You were absolutely perfect for him, there was no denying it.

Eddie let out a chuckle at your reaction before pulling his cock out from your throat. A string of salvia connected the head of his cock to your lips, causing you both to quietly moan at the sight. You whined at the loss of the heaviness in your mouth. “Don’t worry, gonna give you something else to suck on.” He straddled your face more, his balls dangling right in front of your mouth, “C’mon be the greedy whore that I know you are.” You did not have to be told twice. As you opened your mouth again, Eddie bent his knees, letting you suck both balls into his mouth at once. Each roll of your tongue around the soft skin had Eddie's thighs shaking, you were both getting pleasure from this. You rolled the balls around your mouth, humming here and there. The more you hummed, the more Eddie would groan, he couldn’t help the reactions coming out of him, you were just so good to him. 

This time Eddie’s hand trailed down your body, your thighs spreading for him. “This pussy is just begging for my touch, isn’t it?” You felt the front of Eddie’s body press against yours. You expected to feel his tongue or mouth, but instead he spread your pussy lips wide with both of his thumbs and spit. He was getting you more wet than you already were. “Mmmm, so nice and shiny.” One of his fingers collected his spit, rubbing it around your clit. His movements caused you to moan around his balls. The vibrations of your moans made Eddie’s hips buck.

You gargled around the balls in your mouth as you ground against the pads of his finger. “Keep that gargling up and I’ll bust all over these pretty tits of yours.” His words were breathy, he was trying his best to hold in his cum. Eddie didn’t like to cum before you ever. 

The fun you were having was amazing, so when Eddie pulled his body from you, you frowned. “I wasn’t done.” You sat up and crossed your arms in frustration.

“I know, but I need that pussy on my face,” this time Eddie laid on the bed, pulling you so your pussy rested against his chest. “I’ve been thinking about it all day, thinking about you dripping in my mouth.” Eddie lifted your hips and slid down the bed so you were now hovering over his face. You felt his hands grip your thighs before pulling you down. A squeal left you as he quickly started to lick everywhere. Eddie had a skillful tongue, always knowing how to flick it or where to lick. He groaned at the taste of you, groaned knowing that all this, you, were for him and only him.

Again, your hips ground against him. “E-Eddie, your tongue feels, fuck, feels so good.” How you were forming a small coherent sentence with a tongue licking at your pussy was beyond you. Eddie wrapped his plump lips around your swollen clit at the same time that he slid two fingers into you, just past the knuckles. Your body fell forward and you braced yourself against the wall. Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled, the pleasure almost becoming too much. Eddie sucked and nibbled at your clit in time with each curl of his fingers. The combination of both sent you teetering over the edge. 

“Eddie, I-,” you felt yourself cum and clench around his fingers. He was going at such a fast pace that your thighs were shaking against his head.. You rocked against him, riding out your first orgasm of the night. 

It took you a moment to find your composure and move off of Eddie’s face, now laying down next to him. You looked over at him, his pupils blown, his chin and mouth covered in your cum. “Taste like an angel.” Eddie brought his fingers up to your mouth and watched as you swirl your tongue around them, “such a good girl, tasting yourself.”

Eddie pulled you in for a kiss, both of your lips molding together. It was the first kiss of the night and it was perfect. You slid your tongue against his bottom lip, enticing his tongue to poke out and lick at yours. The kiss quickly became sloppy and you pulled Eddie on top of you, feeling his cock rub against your thigh. You pulled away, his bottom lip now tucked between your teeth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” All you could do was shrug your shoulders and smirk as a response. 

You wrapped a leg around his hip, pulling him closer to you if that was possible. “Eddie, I need to feel you inside of me.” A hand of his came down to smack the back of your thigh, causing you to quietly moan out. “I’ll do anything, you know I will.”

Eddie grabbed your hand and kissed all the way down your arm before stopping to bite at your neck. “I know you’ll do anything, baby, but,” he unhooked your leg from his hip and flipped you over, “you’ve already done so much for me.” You felt him press his chest to your back, his hips rutting against your ass cheeks. “Y’want me to wreck this pussy, don’t you? Need to feel my cock inside you as you cum?” Somehow his words were making you wetter, making you clench around nothing. All you could do was nod your head. “Haven’t even really fucked you yet and your’re already acting dumb.” 

The tip of his cock brushed against your clit, making you jolt forward. “Eddie stop being a fucking tease. Need you so bad.” Eddie barely gave you time to finish the sentence before he slowly slid inside of your very soaked pussy. You threw your head down against the pillows, your eyes squeezing shut. Every part of his cock could be felt inside of you, there was no getting used to the sweet sting of that first slide in. “You fill me up s-so well.” Your hips bucked against his so he could slide in deeper until he was fully in you; balls deep.

“Fucking Christ, the tightest pussy I’ve ever been in.” Eddie slowly pulled out, only to slam back in. “Look at how tight you squeeze me, baby, so good for me.” His hands found your hair and pulled your body up, your eyes now level with the poster you made him, “You see how much of a slut you are for me? I wanna hear who you belong to.”

His hips were snapping so violently that you couldn’t even get a word out, only moans. That’s when you felt one his rough hand come down and give you a stinging spank. “I said,” he slammed in and stilled his hips, “I wanna hear who the fuck you belong to.”

“Y-ours Eddie! I’m your slut, I’m all yours,” and you were right. You were his and he was yours. “Can feel you so deep inside of me.” Eddie began to move again and each thrust of his hips was sending you into a frenzy. You could feel yourself getting closer and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold on for.

Both of his hands were now on your hips, dragging your pussy to his cock, “Is the pretty slut gonna cum?” Eddie took one of his hands from your hips, snaking around until it found your clit. HIs fingers rubbed fast circles, the small bedroom now filled with moans and the sound of wetness. “Go ahead, make a mess on my cock.”

You did just that. Your whole body convulsed and your back arched, throwing your head against his shoulder. The moans leaving your mouth were borderline pornographic, he just made you cum so good. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie helped ride you through your second orgasm of the night, not slowing his hips or fingers down until he knew you were fully spent.

Once you were calmed down enough, Eddie pulled out and flipped you over to your back, a squelching sound leaving your pussy. “My cock is soaked from you.” You leaned up from your elbows and sure enough he was right. Your cum was dripping from his cock down to his balls, it looked so erotic. “Think you have the strength for one more?” Eddie leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. There was no doubt that you were sensitive, but you always wanted to go more rounds with him. You nodded your head and he kissed you again, “That’s my girl.”

Eddie’s hands spread your thighs open and he eased in. “Still so wet for me.” He bottomed out quickly and just basked in the warm feeling that is you. “God, I love you.” Before he started to move, he pressed his forehead against yours. You both locked eyes and that’s when he started. He loved to watch your face contorted in pleasure before a moan would leave your mouth. 

You reached down and grabbed one of his hands, placing it to your neck. He quickly got the hint and squeezed. Your eyes rolled back and your body arched up into his, “Just like that Ed’s, j-just like that.” The feeling of his thick cock inside you and his balls hitting your cheeks was bringing you quickly to the edge again. The both of you were so close, you wanted to cum together. “M’gonna cum, shit.”

Eddie’s hand squeezed harder at your throat, cutting some of your breath off. “Cum with me, please,” his hips were snapping so hard, the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot. One more snap of his hips and you were both cumming. Your name a moan on his lips and his a moan on yours. “Came so fucking deep in you.” He wasn’t lying, you could feel his cum so deep in you that it made you whimper.

The both of you caught your breath before Eddie pulled out to lay beside you. Instantly, he brought you to his body, kissing your shoulder. “You did so good baby, so good.” His fingers rubbed at your sore hips, soothing you. “This was the best birthday, all thanks to you.”

You let out a tired giggle and turned to face him, exhaustion written on each of your faces. “Anything for you, my love.” Your head rested on his chest and it was quiet for a moment, the two of you just relaxing into each other. Eddie’s quiet snores filled your ears and you brushed the hair out of his tired face, “Happy birthday, Eddie.” 

[storiesbyrhi]

Our Patron Saint of the Arts

Eddie Munson x Reader More Eddie fics here

6705 words

Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse; drug use; no beta

Synopsis: When you find a Motorhead patch in the hallway of Hawkins High, you know who it belongs to. Idiots in love. Eddie in a dress. Reader is a crafty artist. Wayne Munson. No Vecna; everything is peachy.

The patch looked new, but it had been trampled on just a little in the hallways of Hawkins High. It was clear who it belonged to, but you were unsure how to return it to him. He was a bit preoccupied.

You watched him jump up onto cafeteria tables, yelling at people and making faces at Jason Carver, generally living up to his reputation as a menace to society.

“What’s that?” your friend asked from beside you.

“Found it on the ground,” you told them, tucking it away in your pocket, already having memorised the details. The holes made from a poor attempt to sew it onto a denim vest. The Sharpie marking on the back; the price of it when it was bought.

It wasn’t until were outside during Art class one afternoon collecting flowers and leaves to press that you saw your opportunity. Eddie Munson was crossing the field and disappearing into the woods.

You found him sitting at the table someone had dragged out there years ago, his jacket off and his face buried in a task. Eddie’s metal lunchbox was sitting open next to him but it was hard to see what he was actually doing.

As you approached, the fallen leaves crunching under your feet, Eddie turned to see who was there. He didn’t look startled or surprised.

“Hi,” he said after he realised you weren’t going to speak first.

“Hi,” you replied moving to stand at the end of the table.

Eddie looked up at you, his expression neutral at first. When you failed to speak again, his mouth curved into a grin and you were struck with how pretty you actually thought he was.

You knew you appreciated Eddie, aesthetically speaking. You were an arts and craft type of girl, with a deep love of galleries and colours and textures and creation. Of course, then, your eyes often followed Eddie anytime he was within your proximity.

Eddie was a Pollock in a room of Rothkos.

But you didn’t realise you thought he was pretty. His big brown doe-eyes. The softness of his curls. His smile, kind but wild.

“How may I be of assistance, our patron saint of the arts?” Eddie asked.

What…

“You dropped this,” you said quickly, fishing the Motorhead patch from your pocket. You’d carried it around for a whole week since finding it.

“Oh shit. I thought I’d never see it again. Thanks.”

When he took the patch from you, there was no reason to continue standing there, studying his face. (You wondered how easy it would be to sketch it out later that night without a photo reference.) Yet, you blurted out, “You didn’t stitch it on very well.”

Eddie’s smile didn’t drop, but his eyebrows raised a little. “Do it for me then?” he asked, turning to his leather jacket, stripping the denim vest from it handing it to you.

It was in your hands before you could think or say anything.

“It was here,” he said, pointing.

“I don’t have my sewing kit,” you told him.

“But you do have one… I’ve seen you around, you know.” Eddie waited for any sort of reaction, but you had a good poker face, which only made him more determined to get something out of you. “You made those awesome posters for the middle school talent show. And you had that freaky skeleton thing in the art show,”

“You went to the art show?”

“Some of my best clients are artists,” he said with a smile. “And you made those amazing brownies for the bake sale,” Eddie added.

No – he hadn’t gone to the bake sale. It was raising money for the basketball team’s trip. However, Lucas Sinclair had gone, then made the mistake of bringing his haul to Hellfire later that night. Eddie remembered asking about the brownies specifically. They had given him ideas for his, uh, small business.

You were on fucking fire.

This wasn’t what you thought was going to happen.

You thought you were going to go return a lost item to someone you vaguely knew through school. You did not think you were going to end up all tongue-tied and dumb in front of someone that you apparently thought was really, really pretty. You did not think you would be thinking about him knowing you, noticing you, seeing your art.

What the fuck.

You needed to leave.

“What do you want me to do with this?” you said, trying to give Eddie his vest.

He pushed it back at you. “Sew the patch on. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Nooooooo. He didn’t just say that. And no. He didn’t see those thoughts flash across your face.

“Fine. Yeah. Whatever,” you replied, turning and quickly walking away. Too quickly. Quickly enough that Eddie laughed before calling out a casual ‘bye’ after you, followed by your name.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself, crossing the field, Eddie’s vest in your arms. You hugged it tight to your body. When you got back to the art rooms, you shoved it in your bag before anyone could see.

He was pleased with himself, pleased with how his afternoon was panning out.

Eddie was the type of guy to admire from afar. He was confident, sure, and definitely a flirt, but there was some part of his head that kept him from walking up to a girl and asking her out.

He tried not to linger in self-reflective thoughts. Existentialism dragged him down. Eddie knew, though, that he would always be hurt by his parents’ abandonment. He’d always have a chip on his shoulder about being the town freak.

Life ran smoother when he approached people with caution. He’d never admit it, but Eddie was too fragile to handle an embarrassing public rejection. So, he admired from afar and waited for opportunities to come to him. Just like you had.

…

Eddie’s vest felt like a lead balloon in your bag. It was loud too, a presence you couldn’t stop thinking about from art class to the end of day bell, and all the way home. Through homework and dinner and well into the night. Finally, as you pulled it out and had it out on your work table, silence.

No thoughts. Just Eddie Munson’s vest in your bedroom.

Don’t do it. Don’t be weird. But you did it anyway. As soon as it got close to your face, you could make out the tell-tale scent of weed. Then, something smoky. Real smoke. Like he’d worn it to too many bonfires and never washed it. And denim. That was it. No more complex. Not really good or bad.

You quickly stitched the Motorhead patch into place, not making a particular effort for it to look perfect, but by virtue of your skills, it was.

As you went to put the vest back in your bag, you hesitated. Sucking in your bottom lip, you considered, then hung it on the back of your work chair.

From your bed you could see it, somehow feel it...

Don’t do it. Don’t be weird. But you did it anyway.

…

Not wanting to have the vest in your possession any longer than necessary, you waited almost all lunch the next day for Eddie to show up. When there were only five minutes until the next period, you farewelled your friends and walked over to the table he usually sat at.

When you arrived, standing awkwardly near the empty chair Eddie usually occupied, you went to speak.

“He’s not here,” one of the guys at the table said.

“What?” you asked stupidly.

“Eddie. Said he had business. Told us to tell you he’s in the parking lot,” the guy said, entirely uninterested in being Eddie’s messenger.

“Thanks,” you squeaked out, quickly leaving the cafeteria and making a beeline for the far corner of the student lot.

Eddie’s white van had music coming from it, and as you approached you reminded yourself to absolutely not ask how he knew you’d go looking for him.

It was, however, the first thing you said as you walked around the back of the van and found Eddie sitting with the doors open, smoking a cigarette and writing in what looked like a journal.

Eddie laughed when you spoke.

“I didn’t tell them to say that,” Eddie clarified. Your cheeks grew hot. “I told them I wouldn’t make it to lunch. And, if anybody needed me, they knew where to find me,”

“Oh. Okay. He didn’t have to word it like that,”

“Guess it looked like you needed me,” Eddie replied, not breaking eye contact. He was holding back a smile.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Here.” You pulled his vest out of your bag and threw it at him. He began to inspect your work, running his fingertips over the patch. “You’re welcome.” And you were off again.

Eddie stood quickly. “Wait. I’m sorry, alright? I’m just… Whatever. Here. This is for you,” he said, turning to rifle through a bag.

He handed you a book. It was old. Antique old. It didn’t have writing on its hard, fabric-bound cover, but its title page announced it was an exploration into the science fiction genre.

As you flipped through the pages, Eddie spoke. “I got it a while back, thought it would like, give me some ideas for a campaign or something. It’s a bit too… dry, for my taste.”

You looked up at him confused as he continued.

“Leans into the academic, you know? But it’s got all these pictures,” he said, reaching out to skip you ahead in the book. “Thought they were pretty cool. And you’re an artist. Thought you could use them. Or maybe you’d just like a weird old book.”

Eddie was right. The book was beautiful. It was strange and the illustrations were wonderfully detailed.

“I love it,” you told him, being genuine.

He smiled then. Not an ‘I’m fucking with you’ smile. Not an ‘I’m hiding some pain behind this joke’ smile. Just a proper, warm-hearted, Eddie Munson smile.

“I told you I’d make it worth your while. Maybe next patch I get, we can do business again?” he asked.

You nodded, your heart pounding hard against your ribcage.

And that’s how your tentative friendship with Eddie began. He would bring you his vest and a patch and the next day he’d have some whimsical thing to give you. The skull of a small animal, “For art reference, you know?” A mixtape he’d made, our patron saint of the arts written across it. A box of black plastic tape from inside VHS cassettes.

“What the fuck am I going to do with this?” you had asked, laughing.

“Art,” he answered, like it obvious.

The trades went down mostly across the field at the table Eddie referred to as his office. Sometimes, next to his van. Each time you visited you’d get closer and closer to sitting down in the back with him.

Not often would you be around people, but the more it went on, the less other people mattered to you at all. Eddie seemed surprised when you leaned against his locker between periods.

He’d started a second vest since his first one was pretty much covered. You handed it over, the Black Sabbath patch perfectly placed.

“Fuck! I forgot,” he said. You tried not to feel a little let down that he’d forgotten it was trade day. “I had it out on the counter ready to go and everything.”

Oh. Never mind then.

“It’s okay. Next time,”

“No. It’s a good one. What are you doing later? I’ll bring it to you,”

“Nothing,” you answered, trying to not hesitate but also not answer too quickly. “It’s Friday, so my family goes over to my aunt’s for dinner,”

“But not you?”

“Nope,” was all you offered in return. Truthfully, you’d had a fight the year before when your aunt had told your mother that your art was sinful. You hadn’t been to Friday dinners since. It worked out well for everyone.

“You mean to tell me, this whole time, my patron saint of the arts has been home alone every Friday night?”

“I have friends, Eddie. I do things other than stitch stupid patches to your clothes,”

“Ouch,” Eddie replied, loving when you were a bit mean. “Firstly, they’re not stupid. Secondly, circling back. You’re free?”

…

“What if he, like, is a cult leader? What if he's going to try to sacrifice you to Satan tonight?” your friend joked, their laugh echoing down the line.

You’d called them for advice. It was a simple question. Should you stay in the clothes he’d seen you in that day or should you change?

“Honestly, it would be a cool way to go, I guess,” you replied. “But seriously. If I change, does that say something?”

“Say something? Like what?”

Like you were trying to impress him. Because you weren’t. Definitely not. Nope. Capital N and O. You almost wanted to prove the point so badly you considered wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, but just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Ultimately, you ran out of time and stayed in the outfit you’d worn to school.

Eddie, however, had changed. When you opened the door to his tuned knocking, it was the first thing you noticed.

Gone were the ripped-up blue Levi’s he’d been wearing. No Hellfire Club shirt. Instead, Eddie was wearing black jeans that tucked into his Reeboks neatly. His Goonies t-shirt was clean, and the red plaid button-up shirt looked soft. His newest vest was over that, finishing off a look that was a little too organised.

The cherry on top though, was that he had definitely just showered and washed his hair. The curls were at their most fluffy.

It was perfect; you had something you could immediately shred him for.

“Didn’t realise we were meeting the Queen,” you quipped. Eddie rolled his eyes. “Is that a new shirt?”

“Yeah, alright, alright,” Eddie replied, pushing you by the shoulders back into the house. “Just let me in.”

You were still sniggering at him when he came inside, looking around. He was happy to see your house wasn’t cookie cutter pristine.

“Can I see your room?” he asked then, no pretence.

Eddie was fascinated. He’d only dreamed the inside of your room would be this… weird. You had room for art and sleep but hardly anything else. Every surface of your room was covered with art supplies, books, cassettes, and the most eclectic collection of objects Eddie had seen.

Each time he spied something he’d given you, his pulse increased just a little. Enough that it was giving him confidence.

You sat on your bed, happy to let Eddie look around. Maybe he’d ask about some of the treasures, maybe not. Whatever. With The Head on the Door vinyl spinning, you felt at ease, pulling one of your latest D.I.Y. hobbies out to distract yourself with.

When the record ran its course, Eddie flipped it to Side B, kicked his shoes off, and joined you on your bed.

“What are you making?”

“Bracelet,” you answered.

Eddie watched you thread pastel pinks and purples onto elastic string. You were about to ask what he wanted to do, then you saw his expression. He wasn’t bored. He was focused on your hands, watching.

“So…” you said. Eddie’s eyes flicked to you. “Where’s my payment?”

For a second Eddie looked confused, then he caught up, then he looked embarrassed. “Fuck. Left it in the van. I’ll be back.”

Eddie had forgotten it because he was nervous as fuck when he pulled up to your house. Obviously, though, he didn’t tell you that.

Upon his return, you were tying a knot in the bracelet and moving your supplies away. He sat back down and handed you the bag. It was a gift bag. You raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged.

Inside was a denim vest. New. Your size. Arms already cut off haphazardly.

“I figured, you’ve got so good at sewing patches, you might wanna do your own. You know. If you see any around you like. And, um, I got this one for you.”

He pulled a patch from his pocket. The Doors. God, you loved Jim Morrison.

You didn’t know what to say. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you. Eddie had thought of you, a lot. Enough that he went out and found you a denim jacket to cut into a vest. He looked for a patch for a band you liked. He bought a goddamn gift bag.

Eddie was waiting, holding his breath almost. This was it. Whatever your reaction, it would make or break it for him.

The tears had welled up in your eyes before you could chastise yourself for making it weird.

“Did I do good?” he asked full of sincerity.

“Eddie,” you started but didn’t really have the words. You launched yourself across the small space between you and him, letting him catch you in a hug.

It’s the first time he had really touched you. And it wasn’t just touching. Holding. He was holding you.

It felt like trauma when you pulled away, falling back on your butt in your cross-legged position. He didn’t know what to say when you pulled your beads and strings back over and started on another bracelet.

Eddie watched you pick out specific beads. Black and different shades of red. Letters. Hellfire?

“What are you making?” he asked.

“I’ll make you a Hellfire bracelet,” you said, not taking your eyes off the task.

“I’ll make you something then.”

Later, Eddie held his hand out to you when you announced you were done. As you slid the bracelet on and let him look at it careful, you felt another wave of pure adoration wash over you.

“I’m not done with mine,” he told you.

“That’s alright. I’ll order pizza,” you replied, rolling off the bed and looking under stacks of old magazines and pretty paper for your bedroom’s phone.

While Eddie beaded, accidentally dropping all the beads off his string multiple times, you moved over to your desk.

You both worked, happy just to be in each other’s company.

“Alright. Can’t promise the integrity of this, but it’s the thought that counts,” Eddie said, a break for dinner and couple of records later.

You had returned to the bed and started on another beaded project when he announced he was finished. When you held your hand out, he took it and placed a kiss on the top. Then, he carefully placed his craft project around your wrist.

“It took me all fucking night to find those letters,” Eddie explained, tying a knot in the string that meant you’d not be able to remove the bracelet without breaking it. Fine by you.

Of course, the bracelet read patron saint of the arts. Between each alphabetic bead were random colourful ones. It was like he had a homing beacon for the one-offs and odd-one-outs in your extensive bead collection.

“I love it,” you told him.

He beamed. “What’s that?” he asked, turning his attention to what you were doing.

“It’s for you. Get me one of your shoes,” you told him.

Eddie’s confused expression was cute and you liked that he didn’t question everything. He reached down and picked up one of his Reeboks, handing it to you.

“I don’t know if you want that on your bed,” he said with a frown.

You used your jewellery plyers to attach small clasps to each end of the wire of beads. One end was clipped to the top left eyelet, then you clipped the other to the top right side, letting the beads fall along the back.

“Shoe charm,” you said.

It was a line of rainbow coloured alphabet beads, spelling out Corroded Coffin. It really gave his old shoes an extra layer of personality. Eddie thought it was strange as hell.

“Never thought I’d see Corroded Coffin written in rainbow colours,” Eddie marvelled through his toothy smile.

Eddie pulled on the shoe, then his other. He stood and spun on the spot, stuck his feet out like he was… modelling? Maybe? You laughed.

“Beautiful,” you told him.

Eddie looked at you, dramatically fell to his knees, and shuffled over to kneel next to you. You moved to the edge of the bed, laid down so you were face to face with him.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you.

“So cheesy,” you whispered back.

Eddie shrugged, rested his head on your bed, his face inches away from yours.

He knew you’d kiss him back. You’d invited him into your room, made him things, and laughed at all his dumb jokes. Still, he was nervous.

The record finished, the crackling audible for the first time that night. Everything felt so still.

Eddie leaned over, waited for you to lean into him. When you did, he kissed you. Despite what he knew, he still felt a little shock when you kissed him back.

…

After that, there was no stopping Eddie. His affection was endless. There were notes hidden in your school locker. Your favourite drink in his trailer’s fridge. Constant gifting of anything bizarre he could get his hands on, and he couldn’t walk into a store without buying something for you too.

It was that, his sudden increased spending, that had him in the kitchen of the trailer on a Friday night, wearing one of your homemade floral aprons.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, grabbing the Polaroid camera from your hands before you had the chance to take a photo.

“What?! Next time someone says you worship Satan, I’ll whip it out, show them you’re actually just a domesticated big soft teddy bear,” you argued, jumping and circling him, trying to get the camera back.

“That rumour is the only thing that gets people coming to see us at The Hideout. Can’t let you ruin it, babe,”

“What about if we make a trade. That’s what we do, right?” you asked, standing in front of him. You could see you’d piqued his interest. “Let me take a photo of you now. You can take one of me later,”

“Later? What’s later?” Eddie replied, his pupils blown out at the thought of what it could be. You just shrugged, smiled sweetly. “Deal.”

The photo was perfectly ridiculous. Eddie said if you were going to do it, you may as well go big or go home. You watched as he stripped down to underwear, then put the floral apron back on. He picked up the mixing bowl you had set out on the bench, and the wooden spoon. The pose was theatrical. His expression was manic. And you were in love.

“Are you gonna put your clothes back on?” you asked him as you shook the Polaroid.

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t care,” you answered honestly.

Eddie smiled, happy with that.

“So, why are we making brownies?” you asked him, turning your attention to the bench of ingredients and tools.

“Well,” he said, pulling a large tin out of a cupboard. Inside was weed. “Since I have this drop dead gorgeous girlfriend now, I gotta make sure the cash is flowing. You know. Just in case I wanna buy her roses, or take her out for dinner,”

“You have never bought me roses,” you interrupted.

“Who says I’m talking about you?” Eddie countered, waiting for your sulky pouty face. On cue, there it was. He laughed and pulled you into a kiss. “Next to expand the business. Since Rick got put in the slammer, there’s a gap in the market,”

“For?”

“Space cake. Hash brownie. An edible good time,” Eddie told you, the different terms rolling off his tongue in different voices.

You were interested to learn the weed couldn’t just be put into the brownie batter. Amused, you watched Eddie fuss over his perfect THC butter. The whole trailer very quickly smelt so strongly of dope that it was definitely going to linger.

“What’s Wayne gonna say when he gets home?” you asked, lighting some incense and putting it on the small coffee table.

“Probably ‘where’s mine?’” Eddie replied.

Eddie was a good student, despite what any of his teachers would say. He listened intently, took your anecdotal advice, and learnt how to make brownies. You watched as he took notes in his book, which he said wasn’t a journal but definitely was.

At the end of the process, the batch was complete.

“We let them cool, then we can cut them up. How are you gonna package your product?”

Eddie measured, cut, and wrapped each brownie in cling wrap then put two per plastic zip lock bag. You sat on the lounge side of the kitchen bench, drawing on sticker paper that you had in your bag because you carried art supplies like Eddie did his light and lockpick.

Moons, stars, and colourful planets. Space cakes with cute labels. How could any stoner refuse?

…

“Babe?! Babe! What the fuck is this?”

There was genuine panic in Eddie’s voice, very different from the one he used only moments before when he greeted you.

He had returned from a quick business transaction to find you waiting for him in the trailer. You weren’t missing him though; Wayne was sitting on the couch watching television while you were parked in front of the coffee table, doing something crafty.

Eddie loved that you and Wayne had become friends. Family, almost. Wayne would call you his daughter-in-law and you’d spoil him with his favourite cookies. The hand painted mug you gave him for Father’s Day took pride of place in his collection.

When Eddie returned, saw your set up, he offered a simple greeting to the room and went to change. That’s when-

“BABE?!”

You bit back a laugh.

“Told ya,” Wayne said from behind you.

Eddie appeared, holding his box of cassettes.

“Surprise,” you said, smiling up at him.

There was a very nervous grin on his face and he was studying your expression, trying to work out if there was a punchline he’d missed.

“You know I love your art. Loved it when you painted my wall. Loved it painted the van. But, ah, did you do this to all my tapes?”

Eddie’s cassettes were painted in bright colours. Flowers and hearts. Clouds and rainbows. Whatever music they held was no longer clear, the original labels ripped off and discarded entirely.

“Do you love them?” you asked, standing up.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side a little. He spotted the sparkle of a challenge in your eye.

“Yes. I love them. I love you,” he said.

You made a small happy squeaking sound and sat back on the floor, returning to your project. As Eddie walked back to his room you looked over at Wayne, who was sporting a signature Munson shit eating grin.

“Ed?!” you called after your boyfriend. “Check the bottom drawer on the left!”

A pause. The sound of him searching. “Jesus H. Christ. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Eddie had opened the drawer to find his beloved tape collection. You’d only painted the ones that were copies or mixtapes.

Eddie reappeared, moving quickly, and you were screaming before he’d even pounced, tackling you from your spot on the floor to being laid out, at the mercy of his tickle attack.

“Alright kids, get a room,” Wayne mumbled.

…

Eddie followed you up and down the aisles like a freshly imprinted duckling.

“You don’t have to be here,” you reminded him. You weren’t the clingy type, still happy to have your own things and spend time with your friends or alone.

Eddie, however, was the opposite. You were invited to Hellfire and band practice and even deals. “Yeah, I’d love to spend an afternoon driving around in the van while you sell ketamine to fifteen-year-olds,” you’d replied to the offer with a snort.

“Hey! I’ve got principles; K is strictly a sixteen and over drug!”

You didn’t mind Eddie’s nature. It made you feel wanted and adored. The only times you’d maybe wish for a little more independence on his part is when you were op shop hopping.

Eddie would follow you through each store, sometimes making his way over to where weird knick-knacks sat on dusty shelves, but mostly just acting as a shadow.

“I wanna be here. I’m helping,” Eddie said.

“Helping?” You laughed. “Actually. You could. Go over to the guys’ section. I’m looking for any cool t-shirt that’s my size, but maybe a little bit bigger.”

Eddie stood to attention, saluted, kissed you on the cheek, and went off to fulfill his boyfriend duties.

When he returned to you a little later, he presented an armful of options, each with explanation for why he thought it met the requirement of ‘cool.’

“First up, we have a promotional shirt for the Stephen King adaptation film Cujo,” Eddie started, holding up the black shirt featuring the terrifying evil dog.

“Too scary. Pass,” you said, shaking your head.

“Too scary,” Eddie repeated, mumbling under his breath. “Fuck. Alright. This will please her majesty. The tastiest beverage in all the land. Dr Pepper M.D.”

The deep red t-shirt was the perfect size for your project. And, you did love Dr Pepper. You rewarded Eddie with a quick kiss.

“But wait! There’s more!”

A hideous yellow thing sporting the artwork for Men In Hat’s The Safety Dance. “That, uh, makes me wanna die a little,” you told Eddie.

He nodded. “Me too. I’m getting it for Wayne,”

“He’ll hate it,”

“I know. I just want to see his face.”

The last piece in Eddie’s collection was too big, but you could make it work and it would be totally worth it. Tie-died blues and purples sat behind a ginger cat riding a skateboard.

“You left the best to last I see,”

“Gotta finish on a high note.”

Back at your place, you hijacked your mother’s sewing room and set up. Eddie laid on the floor, scribbling secret lyrics or whatever into his journal (“It’s not a journal!”).

Once you had figured out a workable pattern, the cutting and sewing were easy. You liked the white noise of the sewing machine and having human puppy dog Eddie Munson at your feet always acted like serotonin in your system.

The t-shirts became dresses. You cut the sleeves off, replacing them with frills of contrasting fabric. The bottom hems were moved to sit around your waist, and skirts to match the sleeves added more ruffles.

You changed into your new Dr Pepper dress in your bedroom, returning to the sewing room to show Eddie; he beamed at you.

“She’s hot and she’s talented,” he said with a grin, reaching up to touch the ruffles.

“Think you can get me a Corroded Coffin shirt? I can make a dress to wear to the shows,”

“I don’t know if The Hideout can handle the fashion of it all,” Eddie replied, standing and pulling you into a hug.

“Or I could make you one,” you suggested, kissing his neck and nuzzling against him.

“I’ve already got my eye on this one,” he revealed, letting you go and reaching over for the skateboard cat dress.

Eddie pulled his Dio shirt off, then the dress over his head. He did an unhinged interpretation of a pirouette.

“Wait, you’ve gotta take your jeans off. Commit to the bit, Munson,” you instructed, laughing but also feeling heat begin to pool in your belly.

Once his jeans were peeled away and he was standing in front of you in a dress that matched yours, you paused, taking it in.

Eddie went quiet too, watching you watch him. He was reading your eyes and the way your lips were beginning to turn up at the sides.

“Did… we… just discover… something?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. His tone was measured, soft.

You bit your bottom lip.

“Oh, Jesus!” a voice shrieked from behind you. Turning, you watched your mum push the door open wider. “I don’t even wanna know… Edward, are you staying for dinner?”

“Uh, sure. Yes. Thank you. Ma’am,” Eddie said, adding too many unnecessary words to his nervous acceptance. “Thanks. For your hospitality.”

Your mum just shook her head and left the room.

“I love that she calls you Edward. Feels illegal,”

“Think she’s gonna tell anybody ‘bout this?” he asked, stepping close to you, pulling you back into him.

“Nah. She represses anything weird she can’t explain,”

“Too bad. This would do amazingly in the Hawkins rumour mill… Anyway… Don’t think I’m gonna forgot that little reaction.”

You smiled up at him, kissed his neck, his throat. “Good.”

…

“Can I borrow these?” you asked.

Eddie looked over at you from where he was sitting stretched out on his bed, leaning back against the wall, playing his acoustic guitar.

You’d been listening to him all afternoon. Sometimes there would be melodies you recognised, sometimes not. Even metal sounded sweet filtered through lazy, slow, notes void of electricity and distortion.

 “Show me.”

Holding up the small tobacco tin you found, you showed Eddie the collection of picks. They weren’t the ones he used to play. They were collectors’ items, caught in the air at shows or bought from record stores in the city.

“Borrow or keep?”

“Borrow,” you confirmed, which Eddie knew was code for ‘I’m gonna do some sort of craft project with these but I promise it will be good.’

A couple weeks later it was your one-year anniversary. 1986 was over; you’d graduated, pulling Eddie along with you. There were too many possible futures ahead of you both, but it was easy to forget about the world beyond you and Eddie.

A midnight picnic was set up overlooking Lover’s Lake. Eddie basked in your praise, knowing he did good. There were blankets and all your favourite snacks.

“You made sandwiches?!” you squealed.

“Uh-huh. Cut the crusts off and everything.”

After cucumber and cheese and Dr Pepper and Peanut Butter Cups, you tangled yourselves up, listening to the trees move in the warm breeze.

Eddie started at the tips of your fingers, kissing lines down your palms, wrists, and arms. He kissed over paint that hadn’t washed off your skin and scars from craft knives and sewing pins. He kissed down over your ribcage and soft belly.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered into your body.

“I know,”

“Don’t think you do. But I can prove it.”

You looked at him, thinking it was another cheesy line before he disappeared between your legs. Cheesy lines then sex was a signature Eddie Munson move. Instead, though, he stood and went back to the van.

Rolling onto your stomach, you watched him get into the back, then return quickly with a rectangular shaped gift.

“Wait. Let me get mine!” You fished your small box from your bag.

Sitting opposite each other, you gifted first. The bracelet you’d crafted made a gentle tinkling sound as the metal and picks moved.

“Is it too, I don’t know, girly?” you asked, watching how it sat on his wrist.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. Yeah, you knew; it was stupid to ask when the two of you had been fucking around with gender for a while.

“I love it, babe. You’re a little crafty goblin and I love you,” he reassured, leaning over to kiss the tip of your nose.

You pushed him away. “Goblin?!”

“Yeah. I love goblins. Alright, my turn,” he continued, handing you your gift and not letting you dwell on the name-calling. “I was looking for inspiration, and I found some old photos. Did you know we actually met in elementary school?”

“What? We did?”

As you unwrapped the gift, Eddie told his story.

“Yeah. Never mentioned it, ‘cause I figured you’d forgotten. Don’t worry. My ego isn’t harmed. Wasn’t much of me to remember then. But I’ve always remembered you.”

His gift to you was a framed collage. At the centre was a photo of yourself you’d never seen. You were standing, small and proud, with a tree sapling in your hand. Next to you was a hole in the ground, then Eddie holding a spade. His small, maybe ten-year-old face wasn’t as smiley as yours, but he didn’t seem too disgruntled.

“They did this thing where a few kids from each grade got together to go plant trees or pick up trash. The older kids were meant to help the little ones. I was your buddy. And, we made it into the yearbook.”

Studying the photo, you willed your brain to access the memory of that day. Nothing. You couldn’t even remember having yearbooks from elementary school.

Surrounding the photo in the frame were Polaroids of you and Eddie, tickets to movies and shows you’d been to, and other mementos of your time together. It was the old photo though, that your attention kept ripping back to.

At first, you thought the love heart drawn around you was part of Eddie’s collaging project, but looking closer, it seemed faded, and it wasn’t the type of heart you recognised from his locker letters.

“I went home that day and told Wayne about you. He teased me. Said I was too young to have a girlfriend. Then when I told him you were a couple years below me, he teased me more. But I knew I loved ya then. I was fucking ecstatic when we got the yearbook and that photo was in it. I drew those dumb hearts all over the page.”

Eddie was rambling because you still hadn’t said anything. He’d spent a good couple of hours making the collage, continually asking Wayne if it was any good. “Is she gonna think this is creepy?” Eddie had asked his uncle, terrified that you wouldn’t understand what he was trying to tell you.

“When I found that again… I thought… I don’t know. That I’ve loved you my whole life. Or whatever.”

That he’d loved you his whole life.

Tears began to stream down your face, you dropped the frame to the side and threw yourself into his arms. Eddie laughed and breathed out loudly. Sweet relief.

There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him you loved him and that you were sorry for not remembering and that he was wonderful and so, so good. Instead –

“Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me sooner?!”

Eddie laughed again, a cackling sound of disbelief.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m the town freak and you’re walking around here like a goddamn saint,”

“I’m not-” you tried, but couldn’t fathom a version of events where you weren’t going to love him back. “I’m-”

“A funny little goblin that hoards shiny things and makes weird shit? Yeah. I know that now,” Eddie finished for you. “I love you. That’s… That’s the point. Of all this. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You kissed him like your life depended on it. Like it could make up for not remembering and not being brave enough to talk to him sooner and for ever thinking you’d just sew the one patch on and be done with him.

“I love you too,” you told him, half into his mouth as he nodded and tried to reattach himself to you.

He knew. Eddie knew you loved him, and he was quite pleased with himself. He was pleased with how his anniversary midnight picnic was panning out.

Eddie was the type of guy to admire from afar. And he did. For years. He was confident, sure, and definitely a flirt, and now that part of his head that kept him from walking up to you and asking you out every goddamn day… Well, it was silenced.

If he lingered in self-reflective thoughts, you were there too. Existentialism didn’t have much of a chance to drag him down when he was wearing dresses you’d made and was gifted things his mind couldn’t dream up. He might have been the town freak, but he was yours too, and you loved him for it.

End note: I’m a crafty, arty bitch so this was so self-serving. T-shirt turned cute as fuck dress inspired by My Poor Purse.

Here's some images I used as inspo for this fic: