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hellfirenacht · 6 months ago

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Crit Happens: Session 0

Fic Summary: You are who’s Dustin’s favorite cousin from out of town who is staying with him for the summer. Eddie finds himself jealous as he's suddenly been pushed aside as Dustin’s favorite dungeon master. When Dustin insists that Eddie join the campaign, you and Eddie quickly butt heads about how Dungeons and Dragons should be played.

Master List

2.2k words

May, 1986

Session 0

The air in the drama room was hot and stagnant as the members of Hellfire held their breath. One Erica Sinclair held the D20 between her palms, shaking her cupped hands together, while everyone stared at her in anticipation of the drop that would tell them if the campaign that they had been working through all semester had been for naught.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he found himself standing taller to look over his DM screen as the die fell from her grasp, tumbling and rolling to decide the fate of the party. Two weeks ago, he had damn near thrown a fit over the idea of pushing back the finale of The Cult of Vecna out by a week, but he was no longer regretting that decision after spending his spring break working and reworking his notes until he was ready to kill Vecna himself from the frustration.

The older Sinclair stood behind his sister, gripping her shoulders tightly, while Dustin and Will held Lucas’s. Actually, if Eddie hadn’t been staring so hard at the die as it clacked along the squares of his map, he would have seen all of Hellfire cleaning to each other, and he would have absolutely made fun of them.

Not now though.

The die hit the small podium that Eddie had spent an afternoon putting together to set Vecna on top of. The mini-fig shifted just slightly under Eddie’s hawk-like gaze before toppling over. A fitting end as the die settled on the magic number.

“Nat 20!” Erica yelled, smiling wide with an excitement for the game that made Eddie nostalgic for his days as a player. Immediately, the room erupted in cheers and jumping as the members of Hellfire celebrated.

Eddie jumped up, and clapped his hands, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

Two weeks ago, Lucas begged him to postpone Hellfire. Two weeks ago Lucas had told Eddie that he could guarantee a passing grade for O’Donnels if he would postpone this one time. Lucas swore that he could get Eddie the best math tutor in Hawkins.

Now, said tutor had just rolled a Nat 20 and was being hailed as a hero amongst the party that Eddie had been guiding for the past school year.

It could have brought a tear to his eye, knowing that Hellfire had beaten his campaign, and now he was set to walk the stage in a week to graduate.

“That’s why we play!” Eddie declared, dramatically bowing to Erica, who stood proud as the rest of the group high-fived and jumped around.

“Erica, you’re joining Hellfire officially when you get to high school, right?” Will asked.

“We’ll see if I want to join this nerd club in a year.” Erica said, as if that hadn’t been part of the deal with Eddie postponing Hellfire for Lucas’s game.

The night wound down, as members reluctantly were picked up by their parents. Eddie himself was stalling as he cleaned up the board for the last time. He had always known that this day would come, that there would be a last Hellfire meeting, a final campaign, one last adventure. He knew that, but never really believed that it would happen until he was folding up his DM screen and sliding it into his beat up backpack.

Eddie already promised himself that he wouldn’t ever enter the grounds of Hawkins High again once that diploma was in his hands. There had been talk amongst his band-mates about setting up a game for just Corroded Coffin, but nothing set in stone yet.

He watched as most of the group headed up the stairs and towards the door, until it was just the freshmen huddled in a corner and whispering to each other in a hushed and excited tone.

Curiosity got the better of Eddie, it always did. He walked over to the little sheep and crossed his arms. “And what’s the big secret?” he asked.

The boys jumped slightly, and they all looked like they were stuffing something in their pockets or subtly trying to hide something, which only made Eddie more curious.

“We were just deciding who was going to be the dungeon master next semester!” Mike said, a little too fast, but it was a good alibi for now. The older members of the band had never shown too much of an interest in running the game, but Eddie knew that Mike and Will had swapped around being the DM long before joining Hellfire.

This did interest Eddie though, and he was willing to ignore whatever secret that the children were holding for the moment. He knew this was an important decision for the fate of the club. “And who among you thinks they are worthy of being my successor?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dustin took a step forward. “I do.” he said.

Eddie’s lips stretched into a grin as he looked down at his favorite freshman (though he’d never admit it out loud). Had it been up to Eddie, he would have picked Henderson himself. Maybe Will was a close second, with his passion for the game above all else.

“So, Dustin the Bard thinks that he is good enough to tell the tale of Hellfire for the future generations?” Eddie asked.

“I know I’m good enough.” Dustin replied. “I learned from the best.”

Eddie hadn’t expected such a sentiment from the kid, and for a second his expression softened. For the past year, Dustin had constantly talked about how great and amazing Steve Harrington was, practically worshiped the jock much to Eddie’s confusion. But knowing that Dustin really did think highly of him as well, melted a part of Eddie’ cynical old heart.

“When is she coming in anyway?” Will asked, looking at Dustin.

...Who?

Dustin’s head snapped over at Will with a glare, the Byers kid had a shit eating grin.

“She’ll be coming in next week.” Dustin said through his teeth. “But that’s not important right now.”

Eddie didn’t consider himself a nosy person, but he was. He was about to leave Hawkins High and Hellfire forever, and these children were being cryptic and weirder than usual.

Dustin turned back to Eddie. “I’ll be running the next campaign.” he tried again. “I already have a lot of ideas.”

“Well, Henderson, you’re in luck.” Eddie said. “I’ll have some free time on my hands this summer, I think if you’re going to live up to my legacy then you should at least get the proper training.”

Eddie’s mouth was going faster than his brain with the idea. It’s not something that he would have offered to anyone else, and truth be told he didn’t know why he was suddenly feeling the need to hang out with anyone other than his band over the summer.

It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that after he had that diploma in hand he would be even more lost than he was within the walls of this prison of a school. Nothing to do with Wayne talking about getting him a job at the plant after graduation or the fact that suddenly Grant, Gareth, and Jeff had summer plans with their families which would cut into Corroded Coffin’s rehearsal and stage time.

No, it had nothing to do with any of that. It was out of the kindness of Eddie’s heart that he was willing to guide his sheep into one last adventure to prepare them for the new year and new challenges that they would have to face without the mean and scary freak of Hawkins High protecting them. This was all only for the future of Hellfire.

Dustin looked confused, looking to Mike and Lucas for support but they looked like they were holding back laughter.

Were they laughing at Eddie? After all he’d done for them over the past year? Keeping them relatively safe from bullies, letting them join Hellfire?

Lucas slapped Dustin on the shoulder with a smirk. “See you later. Good luck.” he said before him, Mike, and Will practically bolted up the stairs and out the door.

This kept getting weirder and weirder.

“So you want to train me...?” Dustin asked, turning his attention to Eddie after nearly setting the staircase on fire with his glare.

“Think of it like ‘Dungeon Master Boot Camp’.” Eddie said, though he sounded more confident than he felt after that weird exchange.

He couldn’t fully blame the freshmen either, it’s not like he had ever asked to hang out with them outside of school or Hellfire. The closest had been Grant’s birthday party, and the two times they had all gone to the arcade together as a club.

“About that I- uh.” Dustin was holding onto a piece of paper in his hands, fiddling with it. “I’ll actually be living with the person who taught us D&D this summer and they said that they’d help me- but you can help,too!”

Eddie’s face must have betrayed some form of emotion with how quickly Dustin had added in that last part. He tried to brush off that odd feeling of disappointment, it didn’t matter anyway. This was just something Eddie was offering to kill time during the summer due to boredom. No other reason.

“And who exactly taught you to play?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms. It was no secret that the kids knew how to play before joining Hellfire, but he had always assumed that they had learned the same way he had; by sneaking into bookstores and libraries and writing down as much of the rules as he could until he could finally put together enough money to buy his own copy of the players handbook. It hadn’t occurred to him that someone would have taught anyone in that group.

“My cousin.” Dustin said. “She doesn’t live here, but she used to come up for summer break before going to college. My cousin was the one to bring me the books and got me into the game and then we just played a campaign every time they visited.”

There was something about the way Dustin was talking that made Eddie feel like he was trying to hide something from him.

“And so this cousin of yours is coming back to visit for the summer and will be, what, teaching you how to play again?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“No! No, she’s just gonna run a campaign for us!” Dustin said, incredulously before sighing and showing Eddie the piece of paper that everyone had been poorly trying to hide. He snatched the paper out of Dustin’s hand and looked it over.

It was about the size of a chocolate bar, with ADMIT ONE TO THE CARNIVAL OF LOST SOULS on the front. When flipped over, it looked like an invitation to some sort of demented carnival, with doodles of ghosts and gross clowns and rancid looking carnival food. Dustin's’ address was scrawled in a drippy red ink across the back as well as a date and time.

Eddie was both impressed and confused.

“What is this?”

“That’s the invitation we all got to be part of the campaign.” Dustin said. “My cousin really gets into theme.”

Eddie kept looking at the ticket. It glowed just slightly in the dim light of the drama room. Was that glow paint?

Yes. Yes it was.

“Carnival of Lost Souls.” Eddie read slowly. Was that a new module?

“It’s an adventure they made up. I don’t think they even use any module or even Faerune for the campaigns.”

What kind of blasphemy was this?

“And you want this person to train you to be the dungeon master for Hellfire?” Eddie was unimpressed.

“Yes- I mean no- I-”

Eddie was finding joy in the way Dustin was floundering. The kid was usually quick on his feet and sharp witted, fitting for a bard, but now he seemed backed into a corner.

“Join the campaign.” Dustin finally blurted out. “You don’t get to ever play, right? Come join the campaign and then I can learn from both of you!”

That was a tempting offer. Eddie had been trying to get Corroded Coffin to schedule weekly D&D during the summer, but as it stood they’d be lucky to even meet up for rehearsals.

Eddie looked down again at the ticket. Henderson seemed to really have faith in this person, and when was the last time Eddie got to play outside of the occasional one shot? Very rarely.

“Keep the ticket.” Dustin said. “Just bring that with you and I’ll make sure you get in.”

“Is this a secret club, or something?” Eddie shoved the ticket in his lunch box.

Dustin shrugged “My cousin always likes to go all out.”

“Dustin, you’re mom’s looking for you!” Will called down the stairs.

“Shit. Coming!” Dustin called back up. “Eddie, come join us if you want. I can show you what I’m working on for next year and you can actually play for once.”

Eddie wasn’t given a chance to answer as Dustin ran up the stairs, leaving him alone in the drama room.

He watched the door close and looked around the room that had been a safe-haven for the past few years. It was a bittersweet feeling, Eddie had always hid inside of the game and his band, being given a few precious hours a week to be more than what this school and town thought of him. Here, he could be a hero, a rock star, a somebody. When he finally got that diploma in the next two weeks and ran off that stage, what was Eddie running to?

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Welcome to my new series! I'm doing a lot of research on D&D and the satanic panic for this, so I hope you all enjoy <3

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction

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pinkkinoko · 2 years ago

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So happy I could finally make a physical representation of the idea that has been haunting me since I first made Eddie call Billy “tiger”🐯

#mungrove #art #fanart #billy hargrove #eddie munson #raccoon eddie #tiger billy #putting the HAWK in Hawkins

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formosusiniquis · 6 months ago

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Earlier this/last week @thefreakandthehair did some possible s5 scene speculation based on some leaked pics that circulated. The scene and it's kas!eddie/pre-steddie implications stuck with me and now I present you all with this

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Maybe he should feel worse about it, but the first thing Steve thinks when he hears the voices cresting up the hill, angry in a way that sounds drunk, is he's glad.

It's not that he wants the kid's mourning time interrupted, Steve is just glad for something to do. Something that isn't standing off to the side doing his own mental math. How long do you have to know someone to feel this anguish looking at their headstone? How long to make it okay that you've added their grave to your city patrol, checking a couple times a week for new graffiti and especially two hours before picking up Dustin to bring him here. At least his time on the ladder outside The Hawk was well spent, paint remover and rags in his trunk beside a bat that only leaves to join him in places like this.

They put Eddie's grave near the back but it's still surrounded. The Hawkins Cemetery taking on dozens of new residents, tall dirt mounds marking their new homes. He tries not to think too much about the details. Was this the plot Mr. Munson had bought for himself? Did the government provide it? The least they could do for the hero they're generously allowing to take the role of villain, a free plot for an empty grave.

He's five back and four to the right of another empty grave, Steve needs to remember flowers next time he comes. Anniversaries have always stuck in his mind. Four years maybe geraniums.

Ball caps crest over the hill before faces, and he already knows this won't be good. Tiger green has become his least favorite color. He pats Dustin on the shoulder, letting the kid know he's stepping back and away. Let it look like privacy, not that he’s done more than stare. Edward Munson Now with God.

Meandering over to where the problem is headed his way, Steve wonders if that was deliberate. A preventative measure, to keep people away. Or is Mr. Munson a devout believer, hoping this inscribed plea will help the universe do right by his boy?

He tries not to think too hard about it.

There are other things to worry about. Five important things in ballcaps and letterman jackets, stalking up faster like the closer they get the better they can smell the blood in the water. He hadn’t moved fast enough. They’re too close. To him, to Dustin. Andrews and Miller and Jackson and Thompson and one other, three seniors, a junior, and a reedy kid that must be a sophomore like Dustin. Faces he recognizes in the vague sense of athletic camaraderie. Guys he’s played pickup with on nice days.

“What’re you doing here, Harrington?” It doesn’t matter who actually says it, it’s the voice of the mob. There’s a blankness in all of their eyes, maybe he was wrong about them not being drunk. Mob justice, the spirit of the night.

“Feels like I should be asking you fellas that.”

“Kid up there’s been running his mouth, he’s gotta learn what happens to freaks around here.”

They’re way too close. Steve can tell Dustin heard that the same way he can tell when the kid is ignoring him on purpose. There’s a second that he thinks about playing along, five on one, if he could play the jock card and get away with it things could be easier. But Dustin is pointedly not listening now, picking at the grass that’s barely started growing over the dirt they covered Eddie’s grave in.

“That’s not gonna happen, not while I’m standing here.”

Five against one.

He’s still not very good in a fight with people. Maybe it’s the fucking yips.

The bat has worked as a deterrent. When people with anger and bile in their eyes looked at him cleaning up red painted words across grey granite. Nails pointedly facing the sky, keeping their sneers at a distance.

Held at his side, they all know he doesn’t want to hit anyone with it. He swings low, he pulls them shy.

It isn’t long before it’s wrestled away. Tossed to the side and he’s left with only fists to swing.

When the first hand closes around his collar, the seams on his sleeve popping, the adrenaline presents him a pointless gift. The collar on Dustin’s shirt didn’t get torn by the agitator in their washing machine. Of all the things to lie about, of course he lied about this.

The telltale throb of his pulse in his face and his fists point to the fight going rapidly down hill. He’s put one down. Four against one.

“Hey assholes!” And of course Dustin can’t help but get involved.

“Get out of here,” Steve tries to urge him away. Can’t make the gesture with his hands, every time he moves another person grabs his shoulder or his arm. Pulling him deeper into the fight. Like he’s that horse in the swamp in that movie.

But Dustin doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t listen. Dustin is swinging the bat wildly like it’s a club and he’s BamBam, he’s going to hurt himself before he hurts someone else.

Andrews or Miller or Jackson, they're all the same in this mob, pull away from him. Moving toward Dustin.

“Get away from him! Get away from him,” Steve struggles, shouting even as his voice cracks. He can't get away, can't move. Two people have his arms held. The sleeve of his shirt rips. The third hits him again.

Pain and adrenaline, there's a ringing in his ears that drowns out whatever Dustin is saying. Mouth moving in a babble that Steve can't make heads or tails of with his blurred out vision.

But he sees the swing. Dustin unused to the weight of the bat, the hit lands too close to the handle.

He only gets the one. Then it’s ripped from his hands and tossed back toward Eddies grave.

Then he sees the swing. A fist that lands exactly where it's meant to. Dustin staggers back but stays standing. Staggers closer to the grave.

Where rivulets of red are spreading across the ground the same way they're pouring from his face.

Steve struggles harder, pain tolerance fucked he can barely even feel the hits that have been landing. He has to get to Dustin.

Long black claws, a hand with greyed flesh. It digs itself into the ground ready to pull itself up.

“Dustin, Dustin, you have to run. Go!”

“I'm not fucking leaving.”

Another hit. It takes Dustin down this time. One eye blinks as the other already begins to swell. Steve can taste blood in his mouth.

A dark streak launches itself into the air. Moving too fast to make out anything but big, it vanishes into the dusky fall sky. Steve tries to track it. Tries to keep his eye on it and Dustin and the guys.

Another swing, on Steve this time. Attention drawn too many places he doesn't see it coming. Hard across the temple, one of these assholes is still wearing his class ring.

Vision greying out, when Steve can see again there's one more missing. The hold on his arms is slack. Steve pulls loose, running straight for Dustin, trying to pull him up from the ground.

“We've got to go. C'mon, Dust, we've got to get back to the car. Make the call.”

He's tugging but Dustin isn't moving. The sound of a scream takes the air. Steve doesn't know if he can pick him up. Isn't sure he ever healed right after the bats.

Another scream. Another. Dustin is moving now. Barely. Feet stumbling over themselves. Two hard hits to the head, could be a concussion.

It's following them. Moving faster through the air than they have any hope of on their feet. Prey. They're running, they have to try.

Swooping low, the thing passes overhead. That throaty clicking that haunts his nightmares fills the air. It lands on two legs. Tall and human. Long, leathery wings extend from its back. Steve's bat clutched in its hands. It walks closer. Stalking.

Steve tries to shove Dustin farther behind him. Tries. Tries. But the thing walking toward them, it's Eddie.

He struggles against Steve's hold. “Let go. Let me go! It's Eddie, he's alive.”

“Dustin. Don't. Dustin,” he isn't sure what he's trying to stop. He isn't sure he can anymore.

Back wheels skidding on a wet road. There's a helplessness every time he realizes that things are starting again. When he knows for sure that the wreck is going to happen, fishtailing out of his control.

It's November and it's back.

It's back and it's wearing Eddie's face.

At least when he comes to the end of his borrowed time, the thing that will kill him will be beautiful. Even with the milky film covering those big brown eyes. Even though he looks pale as a corpse.

Predator. Eddie moves with a fluid grace. Closer. Closer.

Anything is better than the demogorgon. He supposes. But he probably shouldn't be thinking that either.

Will Dustin run when he goes down?

Steve thinks they're about to find out. Eddie starts to fold, a sprinter getting into position, a cat about to pounce.

Only he keeps going, collapsing until he's down on one knee. Far enough away that if they had to, Steve thinks they could get away before he's chasing them again. Close enough that he can make out the humor that's spread across a smile with too many new teeth. A seriousness in his eyes. He holds the bat flat across both hands, offering it out to Steve. Urging him to step forward and take it. Proposing.

“Your scepter, my king, you're going to need it. Vecna is coming but I have a plan.”

#kas!eddie #democreature eddie #vampire eddie munson #the what is vague but you get the idea #pre steddie #my fic #steve and dustin #lex presents a potential s5 scene that would be deeply impactful and make for an amazing steve and dustin moment #me reading that: but wouldn't if be cool if that's when eddie shows up #anyway i realized too late that a scene that hinges on a fight meant i had to write a fight now here we are

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jbaileyfansite · 5 months ago

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The Awardist Interview with Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey (2024)

Yes, Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey's sex scenes in Fellow Travelers consumed social media for a couple months during the limited series' run on Showtime. But the power dynamic on display wasn't just for sensationalism; it served a bigger purpose in the journey of the two closeted men.

They are also scenes that would've been difficult to put on screen just a decade ago, and the characters — Bomer's State Department official Hawk Fuller and Bailey's congressional staffer Tim Laughlin — very likely would've been played by straight men.

"I don't even know if I would have seen the script for it 10 years ago," Bomer says, laughing while seated next to his costar during a chat with EW's Awardist podcast. But the job was made easier, and "so much of my cynicism was obliterated," he says, thanks to the support of the network as well as production company Fremantle. "From the beginning, [they] were giving us notes that weren't constricting at all. They were actually really liberating," the Emmy nominee explains. "They were saying, 'No, go farther. Embarrass yourself. Go too far. Try to scare us. Try to see how far you can push it.' And that kind of permission, I felt, even bled into the acting work on set because it came from the people who were in power who could make those decisions."

Bailey, also Emmy-nominated for his work in the series, is quick to express his gratitude for the "brilliant gay stories" starring straight actors that have come before — "I would never for a second wish that I hadn't seen Brokeback Mountain or Gus Van Sant's Milk and Cate Blanchett playing Carol," he says — as well as even having the opportunity to star in Fellow Travelers.

"Had this been made five, 10 years ago, I completely believe that I would have been able to play a straight lead before I would have been able to play gay. And that's kind of wild," acknowledging the changing tides in the industry. But he also notes, "The majority of awards go to straight actors playing gay because there's this sense that that means that they're somehow brave or that they're mixing it up. And there is a bruise that, looking back now, there's a very real — and has been — sense that there aren't out gay men playing their experience," he says. "These characters, of course they're rich, of course they're complicated, of course they're exactly the sort of stories that you'd want to tell because it's so complicated, so much pain, and there's so much suffering, there's much resilience and there's much spirit in it."

That pain is on display throughout much of the series' eight episodes as they contend with McCarthyism and restrictive laws against homosexuality. But in particular for Bomer, it was episode 7, "White Nights," that he admits he was dreading the most. After a family tragedy leaves Hawk devastated, he flees to Fire Island, where his abuse of alcohol and drugs rightfully worries Tim, who travels there to find and hopefully help him.

Bomer says his nerves were routed in the big emotion switch Hawk makes during a sexual escape. "I was gonna have to go from a really drug-fueled kind of bacchanalian love scene that's really dark into the turning point for the character," he explains. "He has this tragic secret that he's trying to bury that is suddenly exposed in front of his face. And as Hawkins is want to do, when it's exposed, he attacks. And then to go from that to being able to rely on my scene partner and fall into the complete vulnerability of the character for the first time — and we didn't film those things separately, it was all one take — I knew that was going to be a scary day."

For everything Bailey experienced in the film, including the fear he had "of playing the last scenes" as Tim dies from complications of AIDS, it was a real-life scenario that reminded the actor of the horrors that queer people still experience. While in Washington D.C. for a Human Rights Campaign event in October 2023 prior to the launch of the series, Bailey, who was wearing an HRC hat, says a man in a coffee shop removed it from his head and threw it to the ground, physically threatening him before leaving when a woman started filming with her cellphone.

"It was really overwhelming and upsetting," Bailey recalls, noting the contrast between the "electric fervor" of the previous night's celebratory event. "I woke up the next day and I honestly felt like I was in a sort of montage of a B-movie because I was like, the sun was out and I was like, this is it, this is it, I get it, I get what this is about, I can see what my platform is and I can see how I can use this. [And I] went into a coffee shop and then someone threatens you and says, 'Get out of my country, you f---ing queer. If you don't do that, I'll shoot you.'"

Within a week, he called Jonathan Anderson, creative director of luxury brand Loewe, to create the Drink Your Milk t-shirt — a line from Fellow Travelers — to raise money for oppressed LGBTQ+ people around the world via Bailey's new foundation, the Shameless Fund.

"It was the most activating thing that possibly could have happened," Bailey says now, as Bomer wipes tears starting to well in his eyes. "There's a love letter I should write to the man from Pennsylvania."

Listen to Bomer and Bailey's full interview in the episode of The Awardist, here.

Source

#jonathan bailey #matt bomer #fellow travelers #the awardist #the awardist podcast #interviews #interviews:2024 #NEW!

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hippiegoth97 · 19 days ago

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 40

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 39

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @songbirdmunson @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog @losingmygrasponreality

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of smut, light crying, angsty memories, brief mentions of abuse, piles and piles of fluff

Word Count: 8.2k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 40: A Marshmallow World

The weeks leading up to Christmas Eve are nothing short of bustling. The holiday season is always quite the whirlwind, between shopping for gifts and trying to fit as many festive activities into one month as possible. Luckily, you've already gotten through first semester finals, on break until the new year. Work, on the other hand, has been unexpectedly demanding. With National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation released on the first of the month, the theater has been packed for every single showing. Add on the annual It's a Wonderful Life and Miracle on 34th Street screenings, and neither you, nor the rest of the Hawk staff, have had a moment to breathe.

You've never seen anything like it, not even during summer blockbusters. Because of this, it's all hands on deck almost every single day. The popcorn never goes stale, sodas run out left and right, there's a constant need to restock candy and cups and the like. And the lines. Lines and lines of people with no visible end in sight. You can't help wondering where they're all coming from, Hawkins surely can't have this many people in it. You suppose you could be drawing in the denizens of the surrounding rural towns, or various loved-ones come to visit. Or, the movie is just that good, enough to convince people to come see it over and over. By the time you usher the last showing out the door every night, you and your team are left frazzled, sweaty, and exhausted. And then you clean up and do it all over again the next day.

Despite the absolute insanity work has been putting you through these last few weeks, you and Eddie have still managed to make time for each other. The holiday season is your favorite time of year. The sparkling snow, the cheery music, the magic that lingers in the air. Eddie, knowing this of course, has done everything in his power to make this year as wonderful as all the rest, if not more.

Early on in the month, Eddie insists that you both go pick out a tree and some pretty ornaments and string lights to make your apartment more festive. You opt for a plastic tree, as they're easier to move around and store later on. Sure, the scent of pine from the real thing is amazing, but actual trees are a lot more work than one would think. They need constant watering, and the needles get everywhere, which you just know Arwen would make quick work of eating and then regurgitating onto the carpet.

Saturday, December 2nd, 1989

"How's that look, baby? Is it full enough?" Eddie asks as he unfolds the last couple branches on his half of the tree. He hopes his work is to your liking, the flocked green plastic is starting to make his hands itch. You'd just brought it and the accompaniments home a couple hours ago, practically bouncing with excitement in your van seat on the way. The second you both carried the big box through the door, you wanted to set it up. And what kind of man would Eddie be to deny you?

You take a glance at his efforts from your side of the tree, and give him a satisfied nod. "It looks great. Time for the lights!" You clap your hands together, hopping up and down as you go to retrieve the boxes of twinkle lights from the coffee table. You hum along to the festive song on the radio as you move, fully caught up in the spirit of the season.

"You really love Christmas, huh?" Eddie says with a chuckle, finding your childlike glee extremely adorable. It's been a while since you've been this excited. That's not to say you've been unhappy, or anything. But he's just glad to see you overcome with joy, cherishing every passing second like a precious gift.

"I really do, Eds." You sigh blissfully, turning to him with boxes in hand. "It's just so...perfect. Ya know?" You say, smiling so bright as his hands meet your hips.

"Well, I can't say holidays have ever been all that fun at the Munson household, sweetheart. I mean, Wayne always did his best, but it was never like this." Eddie shrugs, not wanting to sour your ecstatic mood. He's never been all that big on holidays, they usually turned out to be a huge disappointment when he was still with his parents. Halloween was okay, he could cobble together a costume and escape the house for a few hours to get some free candy. The only candy he'd have all year. But there weren't any turkey dinners, or presents under the tree, or even a tree at all. He'd be the one kid at school who got nothing for Christmas, not even something lame like socks. He considered himself lucky if he wasn't gifted a beating.

But Wayne changed all that. His uncle couldn't give him the world, but he did what he could. Chinese take-out and one present for each of them was more than enough. Eddie always made whatever gift he gave to Wayne, per his uncle's request. A clay ashtray here, a painted mug there, lots of drawings and handmade cards, too. And in return, Wayne worked his ass off all year to get his nephew something he really, really wanted.

One year he'll always find the most special, was when Wayne gifted him his first guitar. It was an acoustic. The perfect thing to get him started. And Eddie practiced on that thing until his fingers blistered and bled. Day in and day out, perfecting chords and simple songs like "Hot Cross Buns", until Wayne got him a Beatles songbook the next year. Eddie still has that guitar to this day, it sits in a closet in your apartment, with the words 'this machine slays dragons' painted around the body. He's shown it to you before, giving you a brief history behind it. It's long since out of tune, but he can't ever bear to part with it.

"But, I think this year, it will be perfect. Because I'm with you." Eddie says lovingly, pulling himself out of his brief contemplation of the past. With you, he has a real chance to have the kind of Christmas he's always dreamed of. He brings you in closer, the boxes of lights pressed between his chest and your own. You both lean in for a kiss, your mouths meeting in the middle. Content sounds escape you, his tongue slipping past your lips for a moment. "Let's get those lights up, hm?" He smiles as you break away, his forehead resting against yours.

"Yeah." You nod excitedly, practically squealing with delight as you go back to the tree. You nearly rip the boxes of lights open, pulling the bundles out and dropping the cardboard onto the floor. Arwen comes padding over at the sound, curiously poking her head inside one of the boxes. She then shoves herself inside, only fitting half-way. The cat rolls onto her back, her front paws batting playfully at the clear plastic window. "Aw, looks like someone's found a new toy." You giggle.

"She's so amused by the simplest things." Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. He knew cats love balls of string and chasing mice, but watching Arwen pounce into paper grocery bags or use empty boxes as hiding places is an interesting phenomenon in his eyes.

You work together unraveling the strings of lights, then wrapping them around the circumference of the tree. Eddie plugs them into the wall once they're in place, twinkles of white, blue, red, and green blinking on in unison. The thin, cylindrical bulbs create a cozy glow from the corner of the room, warming your heart as the season slowly comes alive inside your home. Eddie retrieves the packs of ornaments from their shopping bags, bringing them over so you can dress the tree branches together. You're sticking to the classics, red and green baubles, and festive shapes like snowmen and candy canes.

It takes about an hour to have every branch covered, and ensure no two ornaments next to each other are the same. You're very picky about their distribution, Eddie finds. You can't help it, the tree looks uneven somehow if all the same shape or color are on one side. But he's patient, following your numerous corrections of 'no, put that one there', and 'this one here, Eds'. You've done this far more times than he has, so he trusts your judgment on the subject. When you're all finished, with a few ornaments left over, it's time to place the star on top.

"You wanna put the star on, love?" Eddie asks, holding the red and gold star your way.

"No, I think you should." You reply simply, gently pushing his hands back towards himself.

"Really?" He asks, surprised you want him to have the honor.

"Hell yeah! It's your first tree, right? I've put the star on for, like, twenty-one years straight. It's only fair you get to do it this year." You say sweetly, moving one of the dining chairs next to the tree. You pat the seat, ushering him over to step up onto it. "All yours, baby." You smile, eager to see him finish this out.

"Sweet." He grins, coming over to stand on the chair. He wobbles slightly at the height.

You hold it steady so he doesn't fall, gazing up at him. "Just make sure it's on straight." You encourage him. Eddie raises his hands up, holding the star. He brings it down atop the very tallest branch, lacing it through the loop inside and bending it to secure the star. He moves it around to make it perfectly straight, his tongue sticking out as he fiddles with it. He eventually lets it go, making sure it's not crooked and will hold the weight. "That's perfect, Eddie." You praise, holding your hand out to help him back down. He takes hold of it, rejoining you on the ground a second later. You move the chair out of the way, allowing you both to see the dressed tree in all its glory. "Look what we did, baby. Isn't it pretty?" You say contently as he stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to keep your body close. You lean back into him, admiring your hard work.

"It's beautiful." Eddie replies in agreement, squeezing you a little in his hold. The dark green of the tree has provided the perfect canvas for the colorful dressings. The lights reflect off the ornaments, casting shimmers on the branches, wall, and floor. And the star on top gleams like a beacon of hope. It looks just like the trees he's seen in the movies or store windows, but it's a thousand times better in real life, in his own home. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything so gorgeous before. Except you, of course. "Should I make some hot cocoa, sweetheart?" Eddie asks softly, leaning his head down to press a warm kiss to your throat.

"Mmm, that sounds perfect." You melt in his grasp, savoring the way his lips feel on your sweet-spot.

"Whipped cream?" He asks again, another kiss traveling lower.

"Yes, please." You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the side.

"Cinnamon on top?" He continues, pressing his lips on you one last time, right where your skin ends and your sweater begins.

"Uh-huh." You answer lowly, suddenly feeling very warm.

"You got it, babydoll." Eddie smirks against your skin, pulling away from you entirely to prepare the hot chocolate.

"Fuck me." You mutter once he's out of earshot, completely weak in the knees. You weren't expecting him to pull out that move, but it's got you very revved up regardless.

Eddie just barely hears you and chuckles to himself in the kitchen, assuming you're still standing exactly where he left you. All hot and bothered, rose-flushed cheeks and panties quickly becoming soaked. He's sure you're thinking him quite the tease right now. But he has every intention of keeping the promise his kisses have made. You'll cuddle up together on the couch, share your innocent beverage. And then, he'll fuck your needy little brains out.

And he does. Eddie brings the mugs over from the kitchen, finding you waiting for him on the sofa. You stay sitting up, hoping to control your desires. That is, until his large hands find their way to your shoulders. They rub and squeeze your muscles, working out the knots you'd racked up from the stress of the season. It takes no time at all for you to become pliable in his hands, eyes falling closed as little moans and groans leave your lips. Your head falls back to rest on his shoulder as he massages you. He knows damn well that his magic fingers are your greatest weakness.

Eddie smirks at how fucked-out you are already, practically drooling onto his shirt because it just feels so good. It's not long after that the cocoa is left to go cold, and your clothes are nothing but litter on the floor. You find yourselves screwing six ways from Sunday, hands, mouths, and various interlocking parts working feverishly to get you both off. The sweet scents of artificial pine and chocolate surround you, mingling with the primal stench of sex and sweat. The energy switches from rough and hard, to soft and tender, and back again numerous times. By the end of it all, you're out of breath and exhausted after what feels like well-spent hours. And Arwen is still playing around in her new box.

Wednesday, December 13th, 1989

About a week and a half later, you manage to convince Eddie to go ice skating with you on Lover's Lake. He was apprehensive at first, given his rather clumsy nature. He's worried about falling on his ass and looking stupid. But with your assurance that it happens to everyone, he agrees to go with you.

You hop out of the passenger side of the van once Eddie's pulled up to the lake. There's a good twenty people skating around the ice, mostly couples and a family or two. A small heated hut to rent skates and buy hot beverages sits a few yards away, run by volunteers, usually from the middle and high school. It appears Mr. Clarke 一Dustin's old science teacher一 is manning it today, looking rather cozy behind the counter.

"Hurry up, Eds!" You call to your love excitedly, leaning against the van as you wait for him to join you. You're all bundled up in your matching blue coat, hat, gloves, and scarf. Underneath is your festive sweater, and a knee-length red skirt paired with thick knitted white leggings covers your lower half, cozy black boots on your feet.

"Relax, Y/N. The ice will still be there in a minute." Eddie huffs, coming around from the driver's side. He's layered up, too, per your insistence. A red beanie covers his head, his long tresses falling down from the bottom. His scarf and mittens are the same color, a nice contrast to his black puffer jacket. His jeans are thankfully thicker and without holes today, as well. You'd hate for him to catch cold out here, and he won't have any fun if he's shivering the whole time.

"There's no need to be cranky, love. We're gonna have fun." You tut at him, pulling your hands from your pockets and placing them on Eddie's shoulders. He softens at your touch, though he's still pretty on edge. This is all so new for him, skating...on ice. Sounds kinda dangerous, if he's being honest. "Still nervous?" You ask, noticing the worry in his eyes.

"Yeah." Eddie admits, rolling his eyes. He's well aware that he's being a total weenie right now, afraid of a little fall. Or the blade of his skate somehow cutting you, or the ice falling through beneath his feet. Or一

"Eddie, it's gonna be fine. I swear. No blade accidents, no thin ice, no concussions. Okay?" You say reassuringly, raising your hands to cup his reddened cheeks. "I'm gonna be with you the whole time. You don't have to worry, I'm a pro." You smile, somewhat cockily. Your confidence makes him crack one too.

"Is that so? You know how to do jumps, and spins, and stuff?" Eddie asks, teasing as there's no way you're that advanced.

"Well, no. But I've mastered the basic technique, and I can skate backwards. And that's all you really need to know." You reply matter-of-factly.

"Oh, so...not really a pro, then?" Eddie presses with a chuckle, earning a playful smack across his chest.

"Whatever!" You scoff, officially done wasting time. "You're just stalling, let's go!" You pull Eddie along towards the booth, snow crunching underfoot as you go. You reach the counter, the heat from inside the hut radiating out towards you. "Hey there, Mr. Clarke! You warm enough in there?" You politely greet the man, met with his kind smile.

"Oh, you bet!" Mr. Clarke chuckles. "What size do you need, Ms. Henderson?" He asks. You give him your size, and Eddie's. Clarke retrieves the pairs of skates, exchanging them for a couple bucks. "Well, you two have fun out there. The ice is perfect today!"

"We will. Thanks, Mr. Clarke!" You say, leaving the booth to find an empty bench to sit down and change your shoes.

"Real close with the science teacher, huh?" Eddie asks, taking off his left shoe.

"Nah, not really. I know him from when I used to pick Dustin up from A.V. Club. Why? Are you jealous?" You joke.

"No way. He's not your type." He shakes his head, sure of his own statement.

"I dunno, he does have a pretty sweet mustache..." You play up your 'attraction' to the older man, biting your lip in an exaggerated manner as you gaze back towards the booth.

"Oh, please! You hate it when I'm even a little too scruffy! I doubt you'd enjoy kissing that caterpillar on his face." Eddie retorts, getting a little too serious now.

"Who said I'd be kissing it?" You ask, implying you'd be riding it instead. Eddie just stares at you a moment, suddenly unsure if you're playing around or not. "Oh my god, I'm kidding!" You burst out laughing at his dumbfounded expression, putting your hand over his to get your point across. "Eddie, he's old enough to be my dad!" This makes Eddie laugh, thankful that you were indeed joking.

"Sorry, you're right." Eddie sighs once the laughter dies down. "Maybe I do get a little jealous sometimes." He rolls his eyes at himself, feeling rather childish about it.

"I know." You say, before continuing. "But it's sweet. And you don't go overboard with it. You know, 'asserting your dominance' or whatever. And it's kinda hot, too..." You can't help the mischievous smile that grows on your lips.

"Really?" Eddie asks, as if this is breaking news to him.

"Well, yeah. When other guys check me out, you'll hold me a little tighter, and kiss me a little harder. I love it when you do that. It makes me feel sexy, and desired, and loved." You explain, a light blush spreading on your cheeks.

"Wow, I..." He scoffs, unable to believe it. Over nine months together, and he never knew you found his mildly possessive nature so attractive before. He never really thought you noticed, given how touchy he is with you. "...I didn't know that." He finishes with a grin, glad that you're still able to surprise each other after all this time.

"Well, now you do. Let's get these skates on, hm?" You say with a giggle.

"Sure thing, angel." Eddie replies, pulling his skates onto his feet. You help him lace them up nice and tight, making sure he won't trip. You've long since had your own secured and ready to go.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you up now." You say, holding out your hands to himself as you stand in the snow on your own skates. "Take my hands, and slowly stand up."

"'Kay." Eddie replies, puffing his cheeks as he exhales. He grabs hold of your hands, carefully using your weight to stand up. His ass leaves the seat of the bench, his legs slowly straightening until he's at his typical couple of inches above you. He stumbles slightly, almost falling over. "Shit." He gasps, about to panic. But you steady him, not letting go for anything.

"Just relax, baby. You've got this." You encourage him as he wobbles, his ankles threatening to give out from under him. "Plant your feet. I don't want you to twist an ankle." You instruct.

"Okay, okay." He murmurs, trying his hardest to maintain balance. He forces himself to calm down, putting his weight on each foot. The teetering stops, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

"There ya go. Nice job, Eds. Now for the hard part."

"That wasn't the hard part?" Eddie's eyes widen, unsure if he can really go through with this.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Just stay still." You shake your head dismissively, letting go of one of his hands so you can stand beside him and lead him to the ice. "Just carefully walk towards the lake, and stop a couple feet before the edge." He gives you a silent nod, far too focused on not falling over to speak. You continue to walk him through this, taking baby steps toward the frozen surface. You stop once you're at the end of the bank, taking both of Eddie's hands again. "Okay, this next part is gonna be a little tricky. But just follow my lead. Okay?" You say kindly, finding Eddie's frightened eyes.

"Let's do it." Eddie nods again, eager to keep going before he gives up altogether. So far, he absolutely hates this. But he hopes that once he figures it out, he can actually have some fun with you.

"Alright. I'm gonna walk back onto the ice. One step at a time." You say as you look behind you. You bring your left foot back, and Eddie's right follows your path, stopping on the edge of the snow. The blade of your skate meets the ice, only sliding the slightest bit. Eddie flinches at the sudden movement. "It's okay, Eds. Other foot now." Your right foot meets the other, his left following suit. You take a moment to let Eddie breathe, he's been holding your hands extremely tight during this part. "Ready for your turn now?" You ask.

"Yeah." He forces a smile, failing to hold in his pathetic whimper of fear.

"Okay, left foot first." You tell him. You watch as he raises it, apprehensively bringing it back down on the slick surface. It slips forward suddenly, almost sending him lunging forward with a fearful yelp. But you stop him, holding him tight. "It's okay. Straighten out." You give him a nod, you know he can do this. He stands upright, his foot sliding back to where he initially placed it. "Good. Other foot now."

"Shit." He mutters, immediately regretting bringing his right foot forward and onto the ice. It lands much smoother than the left, and he's miraculously still standing.

"You did it, baby." You giggle in delight, happy that you've successfully got Eddie on the lake. "Wanna try moving around now?" You ask, biting your lip excitedly.

"I'd love to, sweetheart. But I don't think I can." Eddie replies, feeling completely stuck in place. He's afraid to move a single muscle, worried it'll send him flying.

"That's alright. I can pull you around for a while first. If you want." You offer with a casual shrug. You weren't too dissimilar to Eddie your first time on the ice. It's scary, not having your own two feet planted firmly on the ground. He's no doubt feeling like his legs have turned to stone, frozen in fear.

"Okay." He nods again. As terrified as he is, he trusts you. You know how to do all this, you can help him get used to it.

"Alright, you'd better hang on tight, then." You get yourself ready, pointing the toes of your feet together. You then begin a slow backstroke, pushing your foot back and out to move the two of you in that direction. It takes a few strokes to build a steady speed, given you have to pull Eddie's weight along with you. But soon enough, you're making a smooth trip around the lake. You keep looking behind you to keep from running into anyone, but you make sure to check in on Eddie as you move. "Havin' fun now, love?" You ask, noticing some of his fear has melted away.

"Y-yeah. It's pretty nice." Eddie smiles genuinely, meeting your eyes. He's still scared shirtless of falling over, but he's also over the moon. The gentle speed you're pulling him along at feels really nice. Just gliding around, almost weightless.

You take him all the way around the perimeter of the lake, casually passing by other couples, and parents with kids. By the time you're near your bench again, you think he's ready to try skating on his own. "Alright, time to try it for yourself." You say, dropping one of his hands and going to his side again.

"Y/N...I dunno if I can." Eddie whimpers, biting his lip nervously.

"You didn't know if you could make it to the ice, either. But you did. You can do this. I'll still be holding your hand. If you go down, so do I." You reassure him again, stroking his arm with your free hand. The touch draws his eyes to yours again, and he finds your loving expression beaming at him.

"Alright. Fine." He sighs, mentally cursing you for using basic logic and reason.

"Okay. So, you gotta bend your knees a little. Like this." You demonstrate, waiting for Eddie to copy you. He does, and you keep going. "Okay. Then, you're gonna put your feet together, and sweep out to move yourself forward. Like this." You show him one stroke, pushing your left foot out and bringing it back in. It moves you a little bit ahead of him, but his eyes watch every second of it studiously. "Try it."

"And this is where it all goes to shit." Eddie jokes dryly, before mimicking your action almost perfectly. He's standing right beside you again, a stunned look on his face at how easy that was. "That's it?" He asks, almost annoyed.

"Yep. That's it. Wanna keep going?" You ask, finding his surprise so damn adorable.

"You bet your ass I do!" He laughs cockily, ready to get this shit going. For real this time.

"Let's stop wasting time, then!" You say excitedly, squeezing his hand. You both sweep your feet in sync this time, propelling yourselves forward. Eddie still holds tightly onto you, his free arm extended out to maintain his balance. But you're both smiling, and giggling, and having a really great time.

"Thanks for being patient with me, princess." Eddie says sweetly, gazing at you with nearly heart-shaped pupils.

"I'll always be patient with you, Eds. It's not very hard to be." You reply with a smile. "Besides, everyone's scared their first time on the ice."

"Oh, yeah? Even a pro like you?" He teases.

"Yep. Granted, I was like, five at the time." You laugh, remembering the very first time you'd come to Lover's Lake in the wintertime. Dad had brought you, a 'Daddy-daughter day', he called it. He'd laced up your skates for you, and held your hands just like you've done for Eddie today. You fell at least ten times in the first hour, and you almost gave up altogether. But Dad insisted you keep trying, offering to buy you a nice warm apple cider from the hut if you made it one whole lap without falling over. So you did just that. You landed on your ass again and again, having to start over. But you didn't give up, and Dad beamed with pride once you'd finally pulled it off. You were extremely sore and bruised the next day, but you didn't even care. The sweet, cinnamony taste of cider made it all worth the Epsom salt bath and numerous doses of children's aspirin.

From then on, the trip to the lake became an annual tradition for you two. Dad took you for seven years, each one better than the last. Just the two of you, able to bond and be happy together. Even when your parents were fighting, this frozen lake was a place completely free from that. At least for a couple of hours. During these special outings, you were transformed into 'Daddy's Little Ice Princess'. He'd twirl you around, and lift you up in the air while you pulled some form of graceful ballet pose. You'd hold hands while doing endless gliding laps, sharing cider on the bench to warm yourselves back up. It was your favorite activity of the entire season, and you looked forward to it all year round.

After Dad skipped town, though...skating became a solitary, somewhat sad affair. Dustin's never had any interest, and Mom has the balance of an elephant standing on a bowling ball. So you'd make the trip to the lake alone, silently circling the lake with tears in your eyes. It was probably what started you on the path to being so overly independent. The person who showed you how to do this magical, wonderful thing was gone. And to avoid running the risk of that ever happening again, you started doing everything you possibly could all by yourself. You couldn't rely on anyone. Not without the fear that, one day, they would abandon you, too. Not Mom, not Dustin. Nobody. All you had that was for sure, was yourself. Until Eddie came into your life.

"Aw, I bet you were so cute back then. All pink mittens and pigtails." Eddie teases again, nudging you out of your thoughts with his elbow.

"Oh, you have no idea." You chuckle, wiping away a stray tear when he's not looking. Though you could just blame it on the cold air getting to you if he saw.

"Bet you were still just as bossy, too." He smirks, glancing at you again.

"Maybe." You mutter, hating to admit that he's right. But what can you say? You've always been ambitious and driven.

"I don't mind. It's one of my favorite things about you." Eddie says softly, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

"I'm glad you think so, Eds." You giggle, trying to resist the urge to sniffle.

"Something wrong, angel?" Eddie asks, noticing your eyes are looking a little watery. Sure, it could just be the winter air. But they weren't like that a minute ago, and you've made quite a few laps around the lake now.

"No. It's nothing." You say shortly, shaking your head. Eddie doesn't let it go, holding your gaze, and you sigh. "This is something I used to do with my dad." You explain calmly, no onslaught of tears waiting to fall. For once. "And after he left, I've always done this on my own. And it's..." You pause and shrug, grasping for the words. You look deep into his loving eyes, and miraculously manage to find them. "It's just nice to have someone to share it with again." You smile, the warmth of Eddie's love radiating within your heart.

"And I'm more than happy to be that someone, sweetheart." He replies, leaning over to give you a gentle kiss. His lips meet yours, cold as ice for a moment, before warming up again. As your mouths are connected in this loving moment, however, Eddie's right foot makes contact with a raised bump in the ice. This sends him tumbling down on his back, which unfortunately brings you down with him. You both shriek in surprise, your feet snatching themselves from under you. Your stomachs drop, and the wind is knocked out of your lungs as you hit the surface of the lake.

"Fuck." You grunt breathlessly, fighting to bring air back into your chest.

"Sorry...my fault." Eddie gasps out his apology, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?" He feels awful for being the reason you both totally ate it. But he couldn't help it, your beautiful lips needed kissing.

"I'm fine, it could've been worse." You reply, slowly regaining the ability to breathe. Eddie starts laughing, taking you by surprise. You raise an eyebrow, curious what that's about. "What's so funny?"

"I'm j一" He tries to answer through his cackling. "I'm just picturing how we must've looked going down!" He gets the words out, his face going red as his voice goes all squeaky. His infectious laughter spreads to you, leaving the both of you a howling mess on the ice. The visual of you sharing a romantic moment, only to fall on your asses a moment later is quite hilarious to you. And now here you are, flat on your backs, laughing up a storm as the other skaters glide past you with worrisome eyes.

"Okay..." You take a deep breath once you calm down. "I think we've had enough for one day. Let's give the skates back, and get some apple cider to go. How's that sound?" You ask, getting onto your knees so you can stand back up.

"That sounds perfect, babydoll." Eddie agrees, following your lead once again to get the hell out of here.

The remaining days leading up to the 24th are swirled in mystery for the two of you. You do your Christmas shopping separately from one another, you go with Mom and Dustin, and Eddie tags along with Steve and Robin. You've agreed to get each other one big gift, and a few smaller ones like clothes or books. You have absolutely no clue what your special present from Eddie is going to be, but he's been spending a lot of time after work...someplace. He claims he's helping Wayne fix up a few things at the trailer, but you don't buy that for a second. You're dying to know what he's up to, it must be pretty amazing if he's spending this much time on it.

As for you, you knew exactly what you had to get for Eddie. There's a gorgeous, and pricey guitar he's had his eye on for months. A B.C. Rich Mockingbird. Apparently, it's pretty popular among a few famous guitarists, and Eddie's eyes lit up the second he saw it in the local music store. There were a few colors to choose from, but only one seemed to capture his true attention. Slick, black as motor oil, with a sleek and dynamic shape. You're not even one to know all that much about instruments, but this guitar is sexy as hell. And if it's what your love desires, then he shall have it wrapped up and waiting for him underneath the tree this year.

Sunday, December 24th, 1989

You roll over in bed on the morning of Christmas Eve, your arm absent-mindedly searching for Eddie beside you. When your palm meets empty sheets, you perk your head up to look around the room. Daylight barely peeks through the drawn blinds on the bedroom window, casting the room in a dim gray hue. "Eddie?" You call out sleepily, thinking he maybe just went to the bathroom. But when you look over, the door is closed, which is never the case if he's coming back to bed. It seems he's gotten up before you, which isn't typical of him at all. Early bird getting the worm, Eddie is not. You're guessing he wanted to let you sleep in, perhaps while he prepares his 'surprise'.

Quiet footsteps descend down the hall towards you, and the door opens. "Hey, sweetheart. What's up?" Eddie asks as he comes into the room.

"Nothing. I just woke up, and I didn't know where you were." You answer, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"I've just been getting your special present ready, baby. Let's have some cereal, and then I'll show you what it is." He replies, excited to give you your gift.

"Okay." You nod, and hop out of bed to go with him to the kitchen. Arwen is munching away at her own breakfast, her face buried in the bowl. She may be smart, but she isn't exactly one for manners. Eddie pours the bowls of cereal, Frosted Flakes for you, and Honeycomb for himself. He brings them over to the table, sitting down beside you. His right hand goes for his spoon, while the other rubs your thigh.

"You sleep okay, babydoll?" He asks, bringing a bite to his mouth.

"Yeah, think I could tell you were missing before I woke up, though." You answer, remembering how cold the bed felt without him in it.

"Sorry about that. I didn't want to leave you in bed all alone. But I promise, it'll be worth it." He gives your flesh a loving squeeze, flashing his charming smile.

"I'm sure it will be, Eds. And I'm looking forward to giving you your present, too." You giggle, digging into your breakfast. You continue to eat in comfortable silence, Eddie's hand still stroking your thigh as you do. You love having him touch you in some way as much as possible. It doesn't matter which way he does it, or if it leads to something more. Just the feeling of some part of him against you, it's comforting.

Once you're finished, Eddie insists you get dressed and come outside to the parking lot with him. You find this a bit strange, but you also noticed he hasn't put anything else under the tree with the other gifts. You do as he says, with him practically yanking you out the door to go downstairs once you're ready. You reach the ground floor, and he doesn't stop for a second. He pushes the door open, leading you outside into the cold morning. He keeps going until you reach the parking lot. And you finally see it. A bright blue 1979 Datsun 280ZX, parked right beside Eddie's van with a massive red bow on top of it.

"Eddie, you didn't!" You squeal excitedly. You've been wanting a car of your own for so long. You'd even dragged him along to a dealership months ago to look at used ones, but nothing was quite within your price range. This exact model had your eyes lighting up, and your mind cursing your lack of funds. Cars aren't really an area of interest for you, but you could tell just by looking at it that the Datsun is one sweet ride. But this passing fascination was so long ago, you didn't think he'd remember. And you sure as shit didn't expect him to buy it for you.

"I did. She's all yours, sweetheart." Eddie beams, dangling the keys in front of you. You snatch them excitedly, cradling them in your own hands.

"How the hell did you afford this?" You question, hoping he didn't steal it or something.

"Let's just say I'll be paying it off until I'm forty." Eddie chuckles, finding the look of pure joy on your face worth every last penny. He considers himself lucky that he convinced the dealer to knock off a few hundred bucks. The car may be in almost pristine condition, but it's also a decade old. And Wayne may have taught him a trick or two when it comes to haggling.

"You're the best boyfriend in the world! You know that, right?" You ask happily, putting your hands on his chest. His arms wrap around you out of instinct, pulling you closer.

"I only know that it's what you deserve, princess." He replies, giving you a gentle peck on the lips. "C'mon, let's take a quick drive." He suggests with a grin, patting your butt to usher you towards your new ride.

"Fuck yeah! Gotta christen the seats!" You cackle, leaving his side to get into the driver's side. The interior is a dark blue suede-like material, soft and comfortable. Perfect for the one thing that's on your mind right now.

"Someone's gonna end up on the naughty list." Eddie laughs, carefully taking the massive bow off the roof. He tosses it in the back, sliding into the passenger seat. It's an odd feeling for him, not being the one driving. Sure, you've driven the van a couple of times. Or driven him in Claudia's car. But this is different, because this badass blue machine is yours. Truly yours.

"I'll gladly be on a thousand naughty lists, if it means I get to properly thank you for this bitchin' present." You say seriously, turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life, and you're speeding off before Eddie can get another word in. The only destination you have in mind, is the woods.

After you return home from your little 'drive', it's time for Eddie to receive his present. He carelessly sheds his coat and plops down on the couch, still rather dazed from how crazy you went on him earlier. You've always been, in his words, insatiable. But you were seriously something else once you put the Datsun in park and climbed on top of him in the passenger seat. It took every ounce of willpower not to cum in the first couple minutes, with all the insane shit you were doing to him.

"It's your turn now, love." You say sweetly, still riding the intense high you'd managed to reach no more than twenty minutes ago. You bring the gift over to him, large and heavy in your hands. You set it across his lap, and take a seat next to him on the sofa.

"Think I already had a turn in the car, baby." Eddie jokes. He glances down at the long, massive thing you've presented him with. What the hell could it be?

"Mmm, you sure did." You purr, leaning over to nibble his earlobe.

"Angel..." He groans at the contact, his spent cock twitching in his jeans.

"Go on. Open it." You say lowly, your hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

"Don't have to tell me twice." He chuckles lightly. He tears away the pretty wrapping paper, revealing a cardboard box. He pulls the top open, and his jaw drops. "No fuckin' way." He gasps, finding himself face to face with the B.C. Rich Mockingbird. Just when he thought he'd won at gift-giving this year, you go and buy the guitar he's been borderline lusting over for fuck knows how long.

"Yes. Fuckin'. Way. Merry Christmas, my love." You plant a kiss on his cheek, ecstatic to see him left speechless.

His hands apprehensively reach for the neck of the guitar, as if it's the most fragile thing in the world. He carefully pulls the instrument out of its box, turning it so the body can rest in his lap and he can get a real feel for it. It's all shiny and new, not a single fingerprint or scratch to be seen. And it's absolute heaven in his hands. "This is amazing, Y/N. Easily the best present I've ever gotten." Eddie says after a good couple minutes of silently inspecting every inch of the Mockingbird. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Eds. You deserve it, and so much more." You exchange another kiss, trying your damnedest not to deepen it. You're expected at your mother's soon, and there's no time for another detour. "Alright, we'd better get ready to go."

"Do we have to?" He whines, giving you puppy eyes and pouting his lower lip. He's dying to test out his new guitar, get her tuned just right and hear her sing.

"Yes we do, Eds. Mom's expecting us. You can play with your new toy later." You reply, refusing to give in to his charms.

"Okay." He sighs, putting the Mockingbird back in its box for safe keeping. He'd hate for Arwen to get curious and chew on the strings, or scratch the slick paint job.

"It's only for a couple of hours. You'll survive." You giggle at his sulking, getting up to put your coat and shoes on again. "I'll drive." You say as you're both about to leave the apartment for the second time today.

"Whatever you want, babydoll." Eddie's mood lightens again at recalling how happy his gift has made you. The guitar can wait, it's not like it's gonna disappear into thin air. He follows you back down the hall with gifts in hand, descending the stairs and out the door to the lot. You both hop into the Datsun, and head on your way to Claudia's house.

"Merry Christmas, you two!" Mom says cheerfully as you come inside, dressed in her Frosty the Snowman sweater. She's worn it every year for as long as you can remember.

"Merry Christmas, Mom." You reply.

"Merry Christmas, Claudia." Eddie says.

"Oh, who's car is that?" Mom asks when she says the Datsun sitting in the driveway.

"It's mine. Eddie bought it for me." You answer excitedly, flashing her the keys.

"Well, that's great, sugarpuff! I know you've wanted a car for a while now." Mom chuckles, remembering the few times you begged her to buy you a junker back in high school.

"Sweet ride. How'd you swing that, Eddie?" Dustin asks, approaching you both at the doorway.

"Dusty, it's not polite to ask things like that." Mom chides him.

"It's fine, Claudia. I'm sure Y/N thought I stole the car when she first saw it." Eddie teases, nudging you with his elbow. "I got a pretty good deal, though. Wayne taught me how to bargain." He adds with a shrug as he takes off his coat to reveal a festive sweater of his own. You have the same one on, a red and green knitted thing with patterns of snowflakes and reindeer on it.

"What the hell is that?" Dustin snorts at the sight, trying to hold back his laughter. Eddie has never worn anything remotely Christmas-y in all the years he's known him.

"What?" Eddie quirks an eyebrow, wondering what Dustin's deal is. Following the boy's eyes, he looks down at his sweater. He looks back at the young man, glaring now. "One word, to anyone, and you won't see another Christmas." He threatens, hoping Dustin will have the good sense to keep quiet, and not tell a single soul about it. He has a bad-boy reputation to uphold, after all. Though he will admit he really likes the sweater. It’s warm, and comfortable. And you picked it out.

"Not a peep. Besides, you guys look...cute." Dustin says nervously, knowing a threat from his former dungeon master is not one to be taken lightly.

"Thank you, Dustin. I thought so, too." You giggle, taking Eddie's hand in yours. "Although, I think the sweater looks better on you, baby."

"Okay, dinner's almost ready. Oh, and you can put the presents under the tree, Y/N." Mom says, having left the room to check on the Cornish hens currently roasting in the oven.

"Sure thing, Mom." You reply, letting go of Eddie's hand to put the gifts down.

"Hey, um, Claudia? Can we talk for a minute?" Eddie asks abruptly, taking the three of you by surprise. You look over at him from your crouch beside the Christmas tree, finding him fidgeting with his fingers, suddenly nervous about something.

"Sure. We can talk in my room." Mom answers, gesturing for Eddie to follow her down the hallway. You and Dustin share an odd look once they leave the room.

"What's that about?" Dustin asks, but you honestly have no idea.

"Beats me. He hasn't mentioned anything that he'd need to talk to Mom about." You shrug, placing the gifts you brought with the others.

"Do you think it's about Wayne? That maybe he's sick or something?" Dustin keeps the questions coming, which are only setting alarm bells off in your head.

"No. He would've told me about that. But, he has been over at the trailer a lot lately. That's what he said, anyway. 'Helping Wayne fix stuff', or something." You reply, wondering what the hell is going on. Eddie's given you no indication that anything is wrong, nor has Wayne in the few times you've seen him lately. You suppose they could keep something serious amongst themselves, but why would they? It's not making any sense.

"Weird." Dustin says.

"Yeah." You murmur, your mind going to all sorts of unpleasant places. What if Wayne's PTSD has gotten worse? Or if he has cancer? What if Eddie has been lying to you, and he's seeing someone else? You really don't want to think about these things, but you can't help where your mind wanders off to.

It feels like an eternity until Mom and Eddie finally come out of her room. Once they do, you notice their eyes are teary, but not in a sad way. They're wearing mile-long smiles on their faces, and Mom gives Eddie a joyful hug in the middle of the hallway. And it finally clicks. What they discussed isn't anything remotely bad at all. No, you realize now that what Eddie wanted from your mother was her blessing.

To be continued...

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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lovebillyhargrove · 1 month ago

Text

I made it longer

***

Steve likes throwing a bone to that loud, obnoxious, attention-guzzling motherfucker.

Who – right on the threshold of Hawkins High – impudently crossed swords with its king himself.

The fucking impostor.

The nerve he possesses. Huh.

Too cocksure.

We'll see.

And it absolutely doesn't matter that Steve gave up the throne on his own volition, and has taken on the role of honourable knight protecting the innocent inhabitants of his quiet town from one horrific death-spewing dragon.

Blood is a complex thing, you can't change the structure, you can't dilute the essence, can't rewrite the biochemistry.

Steve was born

King.

Hargrove? .. The buffoon takes too much upon himself. Trying to bite off more than he can swallow.

That's why Steve isn't above having a little fun, cause Billy just looks like a tirelessly-jumping-around cheeky fleabag that's lost its home. And direction.

A few bones – and the dog, whining and obediently wagging its tail, is going to willingly put itself on a chain.

Watch and learn, kiddos, commoners and the such.

A subtle look, thrown at the best basketball player Hawkins High school gym has seen so far, when they are rubbing at their own armpits after another game of push-and-push on the basketball court,

Catching a glimpse of tiny streams flowing over that smooth Californian-sun-kissed, salt polished skin so mesmerisingly gently, while at it. It's spellbinding, a slightly magical ritual.

Witching.

However, the shower is over-crowded and guys – Tommy, Andy, Bryan, whothefuckever – immediately break this exchange of attraction, disperse the accumulation of colliding particles with a wild guffaw or a dumb joke, or just a loud discussion of the game or the latest/upcoming party.

Harrington doesn't mind.

The look has reached its target, because Hargrove is staring back, for a very long time, Steve's skin feels his starving eyes, they scratch, they claw at it.

Gosh. Let Billy, as best he can, hide his hunger, masking it under insolence or curtaining it with luxurious eyelashes –

Steve is not an ignorant fool.

He is able to read the situation perfectly well.

At times Steve can shamelessly ogle Billy's cranberry lips that promise the imminent arrival of summer and its pleasures,

And generously allow Hargrove to see that he is staring.

For a whole few seconds.

Steve's keeping his eyes on the lips, but not too much, the game must come in moderation, because having just raised a foot over the line, there is always enough common sense to put it back – on solid ground,

And Steve looks away, still having noticed Hargrove's blown out pupils.

His sparkling gaze, bursting in wild fountains,

Scattering like fireworks, falling on Harrington's naked skin, sending a rush of tickling goosebumps, having him on pins and needles.

They burn like laser, these cold-blue eyes.

And it's even a bit tinglingly pleasant, feverishly exciting.

It's there, Steve's not gonna deny it. But.

He doesn't care about the new guy, doesn't want or need anything from him. Billy could disappear the next second, and Steve wouldn't notice.

He's not interested in Hargrove. Nah. The guy just bugs him, that's all. A show off, who should be put back in his place, that's right, at the doghouse.

However, throwing a bone is fun. Why not yield to harmless temptation?

It's never a bad idea to casually slide his tongue over the lower lip when Harrington feels the fiery ice of Billy's eyes on him.

Slightly biting his lip or thoughtfully running his finger over it, reading a textbook or looking at the blackboard in class.

Steve absent-mindedly strokes his shiny, expertly styled hair, casually throwing strands behind his ears.

Smiling at Nicole, flirt levels soaring, raising his eyebrows with interest in response to what the girl, who is simply swooning from talking to him, is saying.

Steve knows that Hargrove is watching them like a hawk, and is scraping the iron of the locker with his claws in helpless anger.

He knows, and smirks to himself, cause the guy is so obvious, it's pathetic.

Then Harrington slightly caresses his chin. Let Billy appreciate – once again – how perfect the cut is, how finely honed his jaw is,

How he, Steve Harrington, is wholly handsome, impeccable. Superb.

He knows all the tricks by heart, has learnt this particular chapter in the textbook word for word. However, most likely, he has a god-given gift, it's not from hard work at all, oh no.

It comes naturally.

An innate talent.

And now is the time to apply these skills to practice. Lately, Steve has become somehow .. discontented with life. He and Nancy broke up, now and then his buried passion tortures him with the sadness of unfulfilled dreams, a new girlfriend is not in sight.

Of course, he communicates with all the prime ladies of Hawkins High, but no one attracts him so .. Well, no-one has been able to send a light electric shock at his frequency yet.

Steve is feeling kinda low, his parents are either absent from home, or they are tirelessly pestering him about future matters, there is no third option.

The Upside Down seems to have fallen inactive for the time being, and the whole city is covered with a cold blanket of snow, everything, including all sounds, has become quieter, more muffled.

Except for Hargrove who never shuts up, always broadcasting some shit in the gym with his loud, thunderous voice,

The dude really gets on Steve's nerves, constantly running his mouth,

Driving his predatory-looking car like he stole it, tires squealing on ice in the school parking lot, breaking the usual, measured silence.

Harrington involuntarily responds to the volume, chooses flashy colors to wear, not too bright, of course, vulgar taste and Steve Harrington are two absolutely incompatible notions.

He wears clothes that make him stand out, make him feel even more confident,

And today a thin jumper of noble red color, which clings to his lean body just right, achieves the goal.

Harrington looks incredibly good.

Day after day, effortlessly, in a breeze.

Red captures attention, Steve knows from his own experience, remembers how Billy's half-unbuttoned dark crimson shirt caught his eye –

That late evening, when he and the team of teenage monster-hunters were freezing the demodog in Joyce's fridge.

He shouldn't have behaved like that at the Byers'. And he's not even talking about outright lies now,

He shouldn't have .. oh god, Harrington could make a whole list of those things.

He shouldn't have playfully put his hand on his hip, with a very strange accompanying line

"Don't cream your pants."

A very unambiguous phrase, why on earth, where from, how did it even escape his mouth ..?

There's nothing but ambiguity between them.

He shouldn't have kept his gaze on Hargrove's lips for so long

Damn, too long. Anyone would have thought that something extremely fishy was going on there.

Oh, and at the same time talk crap of the highest quality.

There was no need for Steve to poke Hargrove's firm chest with his fingers, and do it .. so slowly, so ..

Lustily, with an unidentified current to the gesture,

Spelling it out for the guy

"Get. Out."

Billy was only looking for his underage step-sister that night.

Harrington arranged an all-inclusive ride of hospitality and friendliness for him, right on the spot – a white-threaded lie, so fucking easy to see through, confusing remarks, humiliation, a passionate fight.

After all the fun ended, Steve's head ached for a week.

Fucking asshole with fists that weigh a ton each.

Harrington knows perfectly well that he will not get an apology, and he himself is not going to offer one.

What for?

There is no need for this, cause instead of a dialogue he can

Pull Hargrove, like a taut string,

He's so responsive to Harrington's little manipulations,

Catches fire in a twinkle.

A bit more – and the guy will definitely snap.

Steve is eager to help. He can sprawl on a chair in the classroom, leisurely spreading his legs,

For some reason, Billy fidgets throughout the entire class, drops pencils and notebooks and spends a suspiciously large amount of time under the desk.

No one keeps Harrington from touching his own wrists, pensively twisting the strap of his watch. On the wrists – there is soft skin with blue veins, an erogenous zone, revealing this part of the body, Steve himself gets a bit high and aroused.

His watchful eyes never miss how Hargrove often stares at his neck. Like a vampire. The dude's apparently drawn to tender places.

If Steve is all attention in conversations with the girls, he shows zero interest in Billy, why grace an empty space, that only barks and annoys, with it.

He passes Hargrove in the lunch hall, focused on the contents of his tray, but it is too crowded here,

And no one will notice an accidental light touch

Shoulder to shoulder,

No one – except for the two of them.

It can go two ways – Billy can either push back and snarl something in return, or

Relish.

Sometimes Harrington is not averse to tempting Hargrove with a milk-bone, a too transparent hint – touching his own body so that the guy imagines that he is the one actually doing it –

In the school showers under the pouring water, Steve runs his palm over his chest, deliberately teasingly sliding his fingers over the nipples, the wet skin, collecting droplets,

Billy notices all the little things, reads the signals,

Lingers there, waiting, turning to ash, black with desire.

He is so greedy. So easy. It's fun to see him choke on the tiniest crumb.

A slight alluring smile curving at the corners of Steve's mouth, like a snake, has the power of sending the boy into a fit.

Harrington does hear

A loud growl,

A fist hitting the iron of the locker,

A rude

"Get lost, Hagan! Not fucking now, I'm fucking busy!"

Steve's ears clearly catch

The powerless grinding of the guy's pearly-white teeth.

The sound of him ferociously digging ground with his paws.

When there's an inevitable, but a small confrontation, Harrington is not above playing dirty. Not throwing a bone, but stepping on Hargrove's bones instead, and listening to them crack – just like the guy's thin patience – anticipating the break. The seams are gonna rip, and it will be

Entertaining to watch.

Steve has put Hargrove on survival mode and is indifferently waiting for the moment when Billy can no longer stand it, breaks down, snaps and

Starts to sort things out.

However, not with blind rage, no.

And not by butting heads on the basketball court.

In a different way.

And then, jokingly and not thinking too much about it, Steve will break him over his knee, like a dry branch, throw the useless thing aside.

He will put an end to such a captivating game, and forever forget about it.

***

Only, after everything happens in Starcourt, Steve suddenly can't seem to be quite good at forgetting,

Losing sleep, turning everything in his head, over and over, driving himself insane and

Waiting ..?

For it to be a fairy-tale with a happy ending. The ending he would've written.

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #season1 steve my beloved #season1 steve x billy

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