#you can read into every single word that comes out of eddie's mouth

[evankinkley]

For a fandom who overanalyzes words like "here", "back" and "coming out" every chance they get, you sure are bad at listening and watching other scenes when they're being played out.

[chelseeebe]

truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

-

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[emeritusemeritus]

Squirm, Hellfire Queen [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: Squirm, Hellfire Queen.

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Reader {Established Relationship}

Timeline: S4, No mention of Vecna.

Summary: You’re a little uncomfortable at Hellfire Club and Eddie investigates.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, creampies, cum, cumplay, secret relationships. Swearing (it’s Eddie after all). Dustin being my favourite character to write once again. I don’t think ‘Freak’ is mentioned but it’s my own HC that he’s called Richard, in case that comes up. Not beta read nor spellchecked, we die like Chrissy.

"Dude, you okay?" Dustin asks, leaning over the table towards you, earning an immediate glare from the dungeon master from interrupting the game. Dustin holds up his hands in surrender sarcastically, falling back into his seat and focusing his attention back on the game, all under the watchful eye of the seemingly omniscient dungeon master.

A few minutes pass before you move again, adjusting your hips in your seat as you wince subconsciously, earning you another confused glance from Gareth, sitting directly across from you.

"You saw it too? Right!" Dustin speaks out again, clicking his fingers mid air as he turns to you with a questioning gaze.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you feel a blush bloom over your face at the attention you were unwittingly receiving. You shake your head, trying not to meet anyone's gaze, pretending to focus all of your attention at the game, analysing your character sheet to study your hit points.

You attempt to keep yourself under control, not to draw any more attention to yourself then you have already but only a few moments later your eyes close and you suck in a silent breath, fighting every instinct you have not to squirm in your seat.

Your writhing and obvious discomfort had caught the attention of the dungeon master sat at the head of the table, his gaze focusing in on you as he watches your curious movements. You can feel his gaze blazing on you and so you finally find the courage to look up at him, meeting his gaze.

You thought initially that he would be angry with you, for drawing away attention from his, frankly brilliant, campaign but as you gazed in his eyes, it was clear that not a single ounce of anger was present. Instead, he looked upon with intense curiosity and intrigue, eyes wide and orientated upon your figure. The table blocked the majority of his view of you, but he watched with interest as you readjusted your hips in your seat, pulling down on your skirt, full lips parted in a small 'o' shape, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance.

When you met his eyes again, your blush deepened, eyes widening like a deer in headlights as you tried to avert your gaze immediately. A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he realised exactly what was happening. He took a brief look around at his little sheep around him, each of them blissfully ignorant of what was happening just a few seats down.

"Eddie?" Mike asks gently, trying to get his attention.

"Huh?" Eddie asks, not realising that he had zoned out, lost in his own thoughts.

"We decide to flee," Mike says slowly, gesturing with his eyes to look at the game board below, seeing that there was so way out of the trap Eddie had created.

"Oh yeah man, course," Eddie says, earning a mixture of questioning and confused glances from the boys, and girl, around the table, each of them expecting him to make a bigger deal of it.

"Tell you what, we hang it up right here, next week we begin from this point exactly and you give me your intelligent decision then," Eddie says, clasping his hands together as he sits back on his throne, eyes squinting as he smirks.

"Princess, a word?" Eddie says, using your nickname as he looks directly at you. You nod, silently, laughing gently as the rest of the boys 'ooo' at you, assuming you are in trouble.

They quickly gather their belongings, saying bye to the dungeon master and the princess as they head out the door, leaving the rest of the cleanup to Eddie as usual.

Once he is confident that everyone has dispersed, the dungeon master leaps up from his throne and strides over to the door, locking it from the inside. He turns and fixes his dangerous gaze upon you, a smug smirk pulling at his lips as he begins to saunter over to you.

"It appears you caused a scene Princess," he says threateningly, running his hands along the back of your chair. You open your mouth to apologise but think better of it, no longer feeling embarrassed by your 'issue' now you were alone with the perpetrator.

"I'm not really the one to blame here am I, master?" You snark back, your voice breathy and deep, exactly how you knew he liked it. He cursed under his breath, especially at hearing his title, something he always enjoyed hearing fall from your lips.

"Pray tell, what is causing the fair maidens troubles?" He asks dramatically, leaning down to tower over you, his lips ghosting you neck as he speaks. You were about to open your mouth with another sarcastic reply but instead, decided to show him. You scooted your chain back every so slightly, the chair grinding on the linoleum floor the only sound that could be heard in the silent room.

His gaze immediately fixes on the skin of your thighs, your skirt riding up as you took your seat.

With a dangerously flirty smirk, you open your legs wide enough for him to see exactly what has been causing your discomfort during the hellfire session, your skirt riding even further up with your movement, blocking any obstruction.

He breaths in a sharp breath, curses falling from his lips as his eyes bulge, his gaze fixated on the space between your thighs, showing him exactly what your problem was.

Between your thighs, your panties were completely soaked, melded to your puffy pussy lips, with extra wetness leaking out onto the seat below you, pooling under your butt.

He's frozen to the spot, fixated on the sight before him, unable move, unable to speak.

"Seems like it's more of an 'us' problem to me, dungeon master," you tease, lifting your hand to run one finger over your panties and into the little pool below, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his cum beneath your finger.

"Jesus Christ," is all he manages to spit out, his eyes following your finger diligently as it trails gently over your panties, still sensitive from your activities earlier.

One of the most wonderful things about Eddie is just how much he cums. It's like he's hoarding it, right up until the last second where he unleashes everything he has, flooding you and leaving no doubt to where he's been.

"No wonder you were squirming sweetheart," he says, finally breaking his gaze to look up into your eyes, seeing a smile on your lips that completely knocks him for six. The mixture of your sweet smile, deliciously used body and evidence of his defilement was enough to render him completely useless, brain turning to mush as he looks at you with all the love and adoration he can. His tone is gentle again, using the pet name he favoured for sweet moments, if that was what you would call this. "To think I was going to ask you to stand and address the class," he smirks, shaking his head slightly.

"Yeah something tells me that would have been a disaster, I could barely keep your load in sitting down!" You reply, giggling. His lips part and his eyebrows shoot up as he lets out a strangled groan at your words, your beautiful, dirty mouth always affecting him. "You think the guys noticed?" You asked suddenly, worrying that someone would have caught on to your discomfort.

No one knew what was happening, what had been happening, between you and Eddie for quite some time. You'd been best friends from your first encounter, though the friendship was laced with innuendos, teasing, flirtation and downright mutual pining right from the very beginning. Your relationship had bloomed organically, never having felt so right, but it was locked away as both of your dirty little secrets. You'd become close with all the hellfire club and the bigger friendship group around it and were concerned about the implication it could have on your friendships if you just became 'Eddie's girl'.

You'd been successfully hiding your relationship for nearly 7 months and so far, not a single person had caught on.

"Sweetheart, I say this with all the love and devotion in the world, those guys wouldn't have a single clue about this sort'a thing," he smirks, leaning in to kiss you.

"Two of them have girlfriends!" You reply, breaking away, trying to argue the point. He snorts, shaking his head, leaning in for another kiss.

"Trust me baby, they're clueless nerds," he says with a sarcastic smile.

"As opposed to you... dungeon master," you reply sarcastically. He immediately reaches out to grab you, tickling your sides but he stops when you let out a strangled gasp, thinking he'd hurt you.

"What, baby, wh-?" He panics, causing you to laugh.

"Lets just say, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now," you blush, gesturing down to the chair below you where even more of Eddie's cum has leaked out in your frantic movements. He bites back a groan again at the scene before him and immediately looks up at you with a smirk.

"Can't have that can we sweetheart? Just gonna have to fill you up aaaall over again."

"Promises, promises," you smirk, pulling him down for one last kiss, before attempting to stand up, your face twisting into a grimace as you do. Eddie offers his hand out for you and helps you up onto the seat, his eyes flicking to your now unoccupied chair and he tries to fix the image to his memory for later use.

"We really need to start using condoms," you mutter, feeling the sticky residue clinging to your lower half, frowning at the state of the chair. You were on the pill, so no risk there, but situations like this were growing ever more frequent... and uncomfortable.

"Blasphemy!" Eddie mutters, pulling you in to him arms as his ringed hand comes to play with your hair and your jaw. You laugh sweetly at his outburst and he chuckles deeply to himself as his eyes wonder over your face.

You both pull away and immediately set to packing away all the game pieces, books and sheets that litter the table, both ready to be out of this room.

You grimace as you walk over to a cabinet at the side of the room, the wet clothes becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you bend down to reach for a pack of antibacterial wipes which are stored in the little cleaning cupboard. You make quick work of cleaning up the chair you'd defiled and can't help but laugh with Eddie as he sees just how many wipes it takes to clean it up.

Throwing the used wipes in the trash, you look over to Eddie who has packed everything into his cardboard box and is waiting for you.

You pause, weighing up your options before bending down and peeling off the wet panties, feeling an immediately chill as your bare pussy hides underneath your skirt. Eddie doesn't bother to hide his groan as he sees you take off your panties, before stuffing them inside your lunch bag so that they wouldn't ruin any of your notes.

"You're telling me, I've got to walk these halls, get across the car park and drive us all the way home, knowing that there's nothing under your little skirt?" He groans, pulling you towards him as you walk closer. You immediately feel the telling bulge pressed against you as he holds you tightly to him, causing you to smirk.

"That depends," you tease, running your fingers over his neck, making his breathing deeper and shaky with arousal.

"On what, Princess?" He asks, eyes blazing.

"We could wait... tease each other slowly and let it simmer until we get back to your trailer where you can have me however and wherever you want," you tease, your mouth pressing kisses to his throat as you speak, smiling as you feel his bulge jumping and throbbing at your hip. "Or, I could offer you some relief right now..." you say, pouting your lips in such a way that he knows exactly what you mean. "Though, if you can't wait, I can't promise that I can wait till we get home to play with my little pussy myself."

"Fuck," he curses, followed by a near painful groan as he takes in your words, his entire body shaking to try and calm himself. He reaches down to adjust himself completely without subtlety and groans again at the slightest touch. "Van. Now."

[eiightysixbaby]

…and a happy new year

word count: 5.5k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: your first week with eddie since his return to hawkins is pure bliss. you both decide you need to ring in the new year the right way. or, you and eddie can't keep your hands off of each other at nancy's new year's party.

author's note: this is an extra oneshot taking place right after my fic i'll be home for christmas. you don't have to read that fic to understand this, but i'd be extremely grateful if you gave it a chance.

cw: 18+ ONLY — SMUT. established relationship, lots of petname usage, alcohol consumption, eye-fucking basically lol, unprotected piv (he pulls out tho), oral (f receiving), reader's nickname is 'sunny'

December 31st, 1989.

One week. Seven days. Ten thousand and eighty minutes. Six-hundred-and-four-thousand, eight hundred seconds. That’s how long it had been since you found out Eddie was home, give or take. Six of those days were spent with him as yours, finally all yours after such a long and grueling wait.

It’s New Year’s Eve, now, Christmas having passed quickly. You and Eddie had spent the time between holidays in a cozy, warm haze together. It was surreal when you woke the day after Christmas with him in your bed beside you. It was a week full of sleepovers, reacquainting yourself with the man you’d missed so much, rediscovering your most favorite parts about him. It was him stealing kisses from you basically every single chance he got, getting up in your personal space to press sloppy kisses to your cheek, or lingering pecks to your lips.

Kissing is as far as it had gone, for the meantime. That was fine, you didn’t need or expect anything more just yet, and neither did Eddie. The last thing he wanted to do was get his girl, and then fuck up by rushing things.

At least, it was fine, until right now. Until you decided to wear that outfit to Nancy’s New Year’s party. He was watching you from across the Wheeler’s basement, where you stood with Robin and Max laughing about something. A champagne flute was placed delicately between your fingers, your body relaxed. Your plaid skirt hugged your hips just right before fanning out around your thighs, the neckline of your sweater dipping just low enough to make him fantasize about what lies beneath.

He feels a little bit sick, ogling you like this. You’re so sweet, so soft, and he’s basically panting like a dog where he stands beside Steve.

What he doesn’t know, is that you’ve been eyeing him up, too — albeit more subtly. He just looks so good tonight, in his blue jeans (a rarity for him) and his sweater and that black leather jacket. The jeans might be a little too snug, hugging him perfectly in all of the right places, and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t staring at his ass each time you could catch a glimpse.

At one point, you finally catch each other trying to gawk. You giggle around your mouthful of sparkling wine, giving him a shy little wave from across the room. His smile is immediate, eyes brightening as if he hadn’t seen you in ages. He’d spent every possible second with you since Christmas. It makes your heart skip a beat, the alcohol no longer the only thing making your face feel warm.

“You guys are disgusting,” Robin teases, her arm automatically slinking around Nancy when the smaller girl comes to stand beside her. Nancy perches on her toes, kissing Robin’s cheek.

“And we aren’t disgusting?” she asks, face scrunching up adorably when Robin laughs.

“Fair enough.”

“We won’t be offended if you abandon us to go canoodle him,” Max smirks, breaking into a laugh when you roll your eyes.

“There will be no canoodling,” you say, but it’s clear none of them believe you. Not like it matters, anyways. They’re just happy for you.

Eddie beats you to it, walking over to you before you can go to him. The television plays in the corner, the news broadcast of the big ball-drop event in New York crackling through the screen. He snakes his arm around you, pulling you into his side. His warmth immediately blankets you, and you look up at him with bright eyes.

“Hi handsome,” you say.

“Hey, sugar. Come here often?” he asks, giving you a sweet-dimpled smile before he leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

It’s still a little surreal, that he’s yours now. That he’s home. That you can kiss him whenever you want; that he does kiss you whenever he wants. You look over Eddie’s shoulder, watching the way Jonathan and Steve pretend to gag from their spots on the worn-out old sofa.

“Hey! I saw that!” you shout at them, giving them a playful middle finger as Eddie leans down again to kiss your head.

His grip on your waist tightens, and it makes you press your thighs together, suddenly antsy. His hand seems to sear an imprint into your skin, permanently a part of you. Your body is hot, growing more eager to have him in ways you haven’t before.

“You look like you need a refill on your drink, sweetheart,” Eddie says, his face tilted downwards at you, tipping his own glass towards yours. “Let’s go get you some more?” he nods in the direction of the staircase, grabbing your hand when you agree.

He leads you up the rickety wooden steps, into the warmth of the kitchen. There’s a large spread of food laid out on the counter, and more alcohol than your group really needs considering there’s only six of you who are of drinking age. The second you’re upstairs, and positive there’s no one else lingering nearby, Eddie has your back pressed against the countertop. His lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, and you can feel the way he smiles into it when you pull him closer.

“You look so gorgeous tonight, you know that?” he murmurs against your ear, nose brushing into your hair. “I mean, you always do, but this outfit…” he drawls. “Baby.”

His hands wander, but don’t push. His words have an edge of scandal, but yet he speaks them so sweetly. It’s a good thing Nancy’s parents and her little sister Holly are out of town, otherwise you’d be playing an extremely dangerous game right now.

Your fingers trail up Eddie’s chest, walking up up up until they reach the neckline of his sweater. You tug on it, bringing his lips to yours and making him groan.

“You’re killing me, sweets,” he says, eyes boggling like a cartoon.

The glass of liquid courage you’d consumed has you feeling bold as you bat your lashes up at him. “I want you so bad…” you hum, placing a kiss to his jawline before slipping out of his grasp and refilling your glass of wine.

He barely lets you get away, hot on your trail with his front pressed to your back as you try not to spill the whole bottle in your hand.

“Baby. I know you’re not gonna say that and then walk away from me,” Eddie says, pitiful as you slip out of his reach once more.

“It’s less than an hour til midnight, Ed. We can’t miss the ball drop,” you reply simply, a wicked smirk on your face that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing. It feels like a little game, drawing out the anticipation longer, and it drives him crazy.

Maybe the alcohol was getting to you, or maybe he really was just ethereal tonight, because your hard-to-get demeanor was almost impossible to uphold. Especially with the way he was about ready to drop to his knees and beg for you.

“Sunny, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, grabbing you from behind before you can get away, pulling you against his chest just to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Always so dramatic, Munson,” you giggle, taking a sip of your freshly-poured drink before leading him back down to the basement.

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin are in the middle of a riveting game of Twister, Will calling out the moves each of them will have to make. El and Max have resorted to sitting on the floor by the TV, watching the live broadcast beneath a blanket. You and Eddie join Robin, Nance, Jonathan, and Steve where they all sit on the furniture, Eddie letting you take a seat on his lap.

“I can’t believe it’s about to be 1990,” Robin scoffs, far too upset about the matter. “I just like the 80s. Something about the 90s rubs me the wrong way.”

“Well, get used to it Rob, cause it’s about to be the 90s for the next ten years of your life,” Eddie says, shaking his head when she lets out a loud groan.

You try to focus on the conversation that ensues after that, you really do, but you swear you can feel something pressing into your ass. You wiggle a little on Eddie’s lap, testing it, and then you’re sure you feel it. He’s definitely hard right now, and you’re definitely making it worse for him.

You chew at your lip, squishing your legs together as you squirm on top of him. He notices your restlessness, and he knows exactly why you can’t stay still.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he whispers into your ear, as quiet as possible as everyone else talks around you.

You don’t answer, knowing he’s just setting you up, and you almost yelp when he squeezes your hip with one hand.

“Just gotta wait till after the ball drops, baby,” he purrs, using your words from before against you. “Then we can ring in the new year the right way.”

You end up getting off of Eddie’s lap, because it’s the only way you can even attempt to focus on something that isn’t him. Jonathan had gone to join in on the game of Twister after Mike decided he’d had enough, so you distract yourself by going to watch.

He’s currently got both hands placed on near-opposite sides of the mat, pressing into the different colored circles. His feet are criss-crossed behind him, making him look a bit like a pretzel.

“I’ve had too much to drink,” he giggles when he sees you approach. “This might end badly.” His body wobbles a little as if on cue, but he straightens himself before a collapse.

“Don’t be a quitter,” you laugh. “You need to win this round, Jon! I’ve put all my money on this!” you tease, making him laugh more.

You try to keep your focus on the antics unfolding in front of you, but you can feel Eddie’s eyes on you. Drinking you in, searing two holes through the back of your skull. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of finally having him, going further than you ever have. You check the clock, noticing it’s only ten minutes away from midnight.

Just ten minutes. You can survive another ten minutes.

At least, you’re convinced you can until a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and Eddie’s lips press a soft kiss to your neck. You asked for it, you suppose, teasing him in the kitchen. And he’s gonna make sure you’re very worked up, now. He sways your body back and forth, holding you tight. Your head tilts back, resting against his shoulder as you look up at him.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says, winking down at you.

“If you guys don’t get off of each other, I’m literally going to throw up,” Dustin says, peeking out from behind Lucas where they’re tangled up on the Twister mat.

“Shut it, Henderson, or I’ll knock you over right now,” Eddie threatens, slowly reaching out a hand towards the teen.

“No! NO!” Dustin screeches, making Jonathan laugh so hard he finally topples.

“Okay, I give up,” he resigns. “Shit, it’s almost midnight. I need another drink,” he says, running up the stairs to quickly refill.

Everyone shuffles closer to the television, standing close together as the hands of the clock reach twelve.

“You ready? For our first whole year together?” Eddie says softly, still standing behind you.

“More than ready,” you reply, your whole body filled with an unexplainable amount of affection. You need him.

Before you know it, there’s a countdown on the TV screen from sixty seconds, and everyone watches as the number dwindles. The group counts in unison once it gets down to twenty seconds.

Ten seconds…

Eddie’s grip tightens around your middle. You’re both smiling wide as you count backwards.

Five seconds…

Four…

Three…

Two…

One…

A loud and joyful “Happy New Year!” resounds from the chests of everyone in the room, Steve letting out a loud whistle. Eddie spins you around, planting a kiss on your lips. Your glass in one hand, you wrap the other arm around Eddie’s neck, letting the kiss linger for as long as it can. Your skin is set ablaze where he holds your lower back, and when he finally pulls away his eyes are big and wide.

“I love you, Sunny,” he says, taking you by surprise.

It was the first time he’d said it, in the romantic context at least. And while the love had been felt all week, you’d been waiting to hear it, straight from his mouth.

“I love you, Eddie,” you smile wide, clinking your glass with his before you both take a sip of the alcohol.

You cheers with the rest of the group, everyone happy — even Robin, despite the 80s officially being over.

Eddie lets you slip away to the girls, helping Steve clean up some of the confetti that had been thrown around the room.

“Why are you so happy, sunshine?” Robin asks, noticing the smile that won’t leave your face.

“He just told me he loves me,” you say, looking down at your feet as her and Nancy both squeal.

“Finally!” Nancy squeezes your arm, her big blue eyes squinted in delight.

You feel warm, bubbly, content. This week had felt like a dream, but the best part is that it’s all been real.

Not long after midnight, the teens set up their sleeping bags on the basement floor for their sleepover. Robin and Nancy head up to the latter’s room for the night, Steve and Jonathan opt to sleep in the living room, and you and Eddie get the guest bedroom.

He’s hot on your trail as you ascend the carpeted stairs, letting yourselves into the usually empty room and shutting the door behind you. He presses you, soft against the door before his lips meet yours. He’s gentle, despite how eager he is, his mouth slowly moving against yours. Your lips part, tongue poking out just slightly to meet his. His hands keep a firm hold on your waist, thumbs smoothing over the soft fabric of your skirt, slipping beneath the hem of your sweater and sending goosebumps across your skin.

“I love you so much. God, I love you so much,” he says, mouth against your cheek.

Your nose brushes his face, lips pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” you reply, and you can’t help but smile.

“What’re you smiling for?” he cocks a brow, lips barely able to stop kissing your face to ask the question.

“I’ve just wanted to hear you say that for so long,” you say, and he pauses. Deep brown eyes search yours, all the love in the world held in his gaze.

“Well I’ll tell you as many times as you’ll hear it, babe,” he grins, his perfectly straight teeth on display, his dimples coming out. “I love you,” a kiss is pressed to your mouth. “I love you,” another on your jawline. “I love you.”

“I need you, Eddie,” you sigh as his mouth makes its way to your neck, sucking oh so softly on the delicate skin. “I’ve needed you all night,” you say, your voice leaning into a bit of a whine.

He chuckles, pressing his front against yours. You can feel his cock pressing against your thigh.

“In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, same,” he says, letting his hands fully slip beneath your sweater before taking a pause. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too soon?”

“I promise I want to. I’ve thought about it all week,” you admit, looking down at the floor in slight embarrassment. He’s having none of that, tilting your chin back up to look at him instantly.

“You just tell me if you want to stop, at any point, ‘kay?” he asks, holding your shoulders.

“I will, Eddie.”

With that, he’s picking you up, placing you down onto the perfectly made bed. You lay back, head sinking into the pillow as he hovers above you, leaning down to kiss you like his life depends on it. Your hands hold his face, not wanting him to go away for even a second. He laughs into the kiss, pulling ever so slightly away.

“I can’t do much of anything if you don’t let me move, sweetness.”

You huff, giving him a dramatic pout as you let him go.

“Can I take this sweater off?” he asks you, smiling when you nod.

Slowly, the material is worked over your head, your arms lifting to allow him to pull it off. His eyes go wide at the sight of your pretty lace bra, holding your tits perfectly. You’re even more stunning than he ever could’ve imagined, and he hasn’t even seen all of you yet. His perfect girl.

His head immediately dips down, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone, his teeth stopping to toy with the pendant on your necklace. He kisses the dip between your breasts, his hands slowly creeping up to slip under the cups of your bra. Fingers squeeze your nipples gently, making a breathy moan leave your mouth.

“Eddie…” you arch your back, and he takes the hint, reaching around to unclasp the garment. He tosses it to the floor, worshiping your tits with his hands and his mouth.

He sucks on one nipple, then the other, tongue laving over the sensitive buds. Your hand finds its way to his hair, embedding your fingers into his soft curls and tugging. He groans when you do, a reaction you weren’t expecting, but it encourages you to continue. Eventually, when he’s decided he’s focused enough on your breasts for now, his mouth continues its descent.

Kisses are trailed down your stomach, below your bellybutton, right to the waistband of your skirt. Your breath hitches when he reaches that spot, your brows furrowing as you look down at him.

“Please keep going,” you whine, and he smirks at the hint of desperation in your voice.

“So eager, huh sweet girl?” he teases gently, fingers already hooking beneath your skirt to pull it down. He discards it just as he had your bra, leaving you in nothing but a pair of panties to match the top piece.

You feel your cheeks get hot. You hadn’t intentionally worn a matching set; you didn’t go into the night expecting anything. But you fear it looks that way now.

Lucky for you, Eddie doesn’t notice; or if he does he doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like he’s never seen anything more precious, more beautiful.

“Baby, holy shit…” he breathes, sinking down to press kisses to your thighs.

You couldn’t count the number of kisses you’ve received tonight if you tried. He’s sure to hit every inch of your skin. His nose brushes against your clit, his hot breath fanning against your core. You know you’re soaking the lace that keeps you covered, and you can feel yourself throb for him. His mouth kisses atop your panties before he presses his tongue flat against them, so close to where you need him most. Separated only by thin fabric.

It’s cruel, the way he teases, his lips kissing over your clit before moving to your inner thighs. His teeth nip at the skin there, making you shiver when he starts to suck.

“Ed, oh my god,” you pant, your legs threatening to close involuntarily, your body so sensitive. He grips your thighs, pushing them apart more forcefully than he’d done anything so far.

“Gotta keep your legs spread wide for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, big eyes glancing up at you.

You nod quickly, feeling your slick start to pool in your panties. “Need your mouth on me, please,” you cry, grateful when you feel him tug your underwear down.

“Such a sweet girl, being so polite,” he says, pulling the lace around your ankles and feet until you’re completely ridden of your last article of clothing.

Eddie tugs off his jacket, followed by his shirt before he leans back down between your legs. He pokes his tongue out tentatively, licking a stripe up your folds. You gasp, hips bucking before his strong grip brings them back down. He buries his face in your pussy, tongue prodding inside of you, lapping up the honey that drips from your center. His nose bumps against your clit, giving you much needed friction. It takes everything in you to not grind against his face, trying keep some composure.

You’d imagined scenarios like this plenty of times, always knew Eddie would be able to make you feel good. But he’s truly unreal, you’ve never felt pleasure like this in your life. It’s been worth the wait to have him, you can say that for certain, your brain fuzzy as he devours you.

You’d think this is his last meal, the way he licks and sucks and moans as he does it. He flicks the tip of his tongue rapidly over your clit, and you have to remind yourself of where you are before a loud whine can escape you. You bite down on your fist, something to muffle your noises, to keep your actions discreet.

Eddie’s relentless, barely coming up for air as his tongue unravels you. When he does pause, he gives you a devious little grin, his chin shiny with your arousal. The sight makes you feral, primal in the way you desire him. And as much as you love the way he eats your cunt, you need more from him.

“Eddie, baby, please—” you pant, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. Once you’ve got it, you feel nervous under his intense stare. “I want to have sex,” you say softly. “I need you inside of me. Like, right now.”

“My god, you’re something else,” he breathes, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

He moves to hover over you, his bare chest on full display. You let your hands run down his pale skin, fingers tracing the outlines of his tattoos. He shivers at your touch, and you can see the tented fabric of his jeans; his cock straining to be near you. His lips are on yours, his tongue working your mouth open for him as you reach down to palm him through the denim. The taste of yourself on his mouth has you throbbing for him, aching. He whimpers when you squeeze the outline of his cock, a sound you weren’t anticipating.

“I think you should take these off,” you suggest, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes blown out with lust. “Good idea.”

He shimmies out of his tight jeans, his boxers following suit. His cock springs free, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. He’s got the perfect girth, and he’s long. The head is pink and leaking for you already, and there’s a slight curve to his shaft. A vein protrudes from beneath the skin, practically throbbing.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, startling when you realize you said it out loud. He’s grinning like the devil, bending back down to kiss your cheek.

“Like what you see, huh, Sunny?” he asks, smug as ever.

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him away. “Fuck off,” you giggle, your tone holding no malice.

He does the exact opposite of what you said, invading your space once more to kiss all over your face. You laugh, making him join in with you.

“I do like what I see, for the record,” you tell him honestly, his smile turning shy. “I can’t believe you’re mine. I’m so lucky that, after everything, this is where we are now,” you continue, seeing the way his face completely softens at your sweet words.

“I’m the lucky one, I promise you,” he says. “Do I need to say it again? I love you so fucking much.”

It feels so right hearing him say those words. It feels like you’ve been saying them your whole lives, rather than just starting tonight.

“I love you,” you sigh, his body pressing against yours.

The realization of the line you’re about to cross hits you, but it’s welcomed. You trust Eddie to take care of you more than you’d trust anyone, and your heart pounds in your chest as you think about how much you want him. Your adoration for him is unwavering, and you so badly crave him.

“You ready for me?” he asks, patient as he rubs his thumb along your cheek. “Shit — do you want me to get a condom?”

“Yeah. I’m ready,” you confirm. “Don’t want you to use a condom. Wanna feel every inch of you,” you plead, biting your lip as he curses under his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he chuckles, shaking his head of dark brown curls.

“So you’ve said,” you reply, letting him kiss you sweetly before lining himself up properly. You inhale deeply when you feel his tip prod at your entrance.

He makes eye contact with you as he slips inside your wet walls, both of you moaning in unison at the feeling. For him, it’s the way you squeeze around his length, sucking him right in. For you, it’s the overwhelming stretch to accommodate him. It knocks the wind out of you, your eyes rolling back as he sinks in even deeper.

“Oh my god, baby,” Eddie groans, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder.

He doesn’t move once he gets fully sheathed inside, letting you adjust to his size. When you start to get squirmy, he knows you’re ready for more. He thrusts slowly, wanting to take his precious time with you. Wanting to be careful, to make love to you rather than fuck you like a one night stand. He wants to show you how much you mean to him.

The gentle rocking of his hips has your back arching, his cock reaching perfect depths inside of you. He hits the spot your fingers can’t, drawing breathy whines and moans of his name from your pretty lips.

“You have to be quiet, sweet girl,” he shushes, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to.”

“You just feel… s-so good, Eddie. This is everything I wanted,” you whisper, your hands clutching his back tight as he moves just a little bit faster.

The slick glide of his cock in and out, in and out has you seeing stars beneath him. Every inch of him feels divine, and he steals your breath each time he pushes back in. Your nails dig at the skin of his shoulder blades, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself quiet. His ragged breaths turn you on even more, as does the strained look on his face as he tries desperately not to cry out for you.

“Wanna ride me, baby?” he asks. “I’d love to see the way those pretty tits bounce with you on top,” he purrs, sugary sweetness dripping from his words. He wants to worship you, like the goddess you are.

You’re nodding eagerly, having already wanted to ask him if you could ride him. He pulls out, making you wince before he flips you over. With him sprawled out on the bed, now, you’re getting a full view of everything.

His cock is wet with your slick, nearly purple in color and clearly so needy. The dark patch of hair at the base is enticing, and you want to nuzzle your face into it. His balls hang heavy between his thighs, and you reach out instinctively to squeeze them.

“Fuck,” he hisses, making you smirk in satisfaction.

It could be a fun game, you think, learning how to touch him; discovering what makes him whine, what makes him twitch. You’re excited by the fact that you have all the time in the world to learn what gets him going. His body is yours to explore, to study and observe. It makes you hot for him all over again.

You straddle him, letting your wet folds glide along his length. Your palms are planted flat on his chest, wiggling your ass on top of him.

“Such a little tease,” he says, looking up at you in awe. “Look so pretty up there.”

You flush, gripping the base of his drooling cock before aligning it with your entrance. Sinking down onto him, a light and pretty whine escapes you. He watches, completely enamored as your expression changes with each inch of him that fills you. You’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, he’s certain of it.

This new angle allows him to go even deeper, and it feels incredible in a different way than the previous position had. Your hands grip onto his sides, his shoulders, anywhere you can reach to ground yourself as you start to rock your hips steadily.

“Eddie…” you moan, trying to keep your voice quiet. He looks blissed out where his head rests on the pillow, his lips parted as he takes shallow breaths.

He begins to do some of the work for you, his hips meeting yours as he starts to rut up into you. You gasp, his cock hitting that perfect spot once again. Your body feels tingly, electrified. Everywhere he touches you you can feel sparks, wishing his hand could be everywhere all at once. He sets a slightly faster pace than he had in missionary, bouncing you perfectly up and down. You lean down, your chest pressing to his as you hold his shoulders for stability. Burying your face into his neck, you start to kiss and suck on the skin there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good,” he grunts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin filling the bedroom.

Desperate for more, you let your hand worm its way between your bodies, starting to rub your swollen clit. There’s barely enough room between the two of you for it to work, but you’ve got it. Eddie, of course can feel it though.

“Whatcha doin’ there, sweetness?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to hear the grin in his voice.

Your fingers continue their ministrations, pressing into your clit in circles. “Nothin’” you mumble, shy into his shoulder.

“Ah-ah, none of that, shy girl. Look at me,” he commands gently, tilting your chin up with a finger beneath it. He smiles wide when your eyes meet his. “Does that feel good?”

“So good, Eddie,” you breathe, cheeks blazing hot under his taunting stare. He’s smug, of course he is, because he has you so worked up you’re touching yourself to get to your release faster.

“Good. Keep doing that for me, baby, okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, wobbly as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. Not too fast, but just enough to tip you over the edge.

The way his cock presses repeatedly into your sweet spot makes you see stars, your fingers moving as fast as they can go over your sensitive bud. Your mouth is agape, no sound coming out as he fucks into you.

“I love being inside of you, baby. Love everything about you,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the side of your head.

The softness of his words juxtaposed with the absolute filthy way he’s fucking you makes you delirious, your body so desperate for release. You find it harder and harder to stay quiet, whimpers and squeaks leaving your mouth with each thrust he gives you. You’re so close, the tension in the pit of your stomach rising to a head.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?” Eddie encourages, sensing your quick approach, his honey tone of voice pushing you past your breaking point at last.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, washing over you in overwhelming waves. You clench hard around him, soaking his cock and the curls at the base of it. Nothing has ever felt better, your mind and body succumbing to sheer pleasure; being pulled right under. He pulls out just in time, ropes of his own cum spurting out over his stomach and chest.

You both breathe heavily, the sounds of each inhale and exhale the only thing filling the space around you. You shakily climb off of Eddie, sitting beside him on the bed. He reaches over, pulling tissues from the box on the bedside table. He cleans you up before he cleans himself, gingerly wiping between your thighs. He kisses you in the midst of it, lips pressed to yours as one hand grips your face.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Sunny,” he whispers. “My fucking dream girl.”

You giggle, unable to hide how smitten you are. “Such a sap, Eds,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and then some,” you say after pulling away, enjoying the way his cheeks flush pink. “In case I haven’t said it enough this week, I’m so fucking happy you’re home.”

“I’m never going anywhere ever again. It’s me and you forever, sweetheart,” he promises, laying back down and pulling you to join him.

Chest to chest, you tilt your chin up to look at him. Your noses are nearly touching, his arms wrapped around your middle; keeping you close and keeping you safe.

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you even more.”

[medusapelagia]

28 Tomorrow

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:Tomorrow ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Caretaker) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: open ending, description of injuries Words: 852

Every single cell of Eddie’s body hurt so badly. His joints are in flame, his skin was pulled so harshly to try to stop the bleeding of his bats’ bites that he’s sure it would rip off if he breathe in the wrong way, he has had a headache since he opened his fucking eyes, and still, the stupid doctors are going to lowering his pain meds, because they don’t want him to become an addict. Like… are you fucking kidding, right? 

But no.

They were fucking serious, and now all Eddie can do not scream in pain is biting the inside of his cheeks and trying very hard to sleep, but the pain is so devastating that he can’t sleep. Fuck those stupid doctors. Eddie’s no killer, that's what the TV said, but he would kill for a joint. Or maybe he should just murder the stupid doctors who decided to lower his meds.

“You ok?” 

Steve.

Dear, kind, smiling, Steve, who’s always there, reading to him some articles from the Rolling Stones and telling him what’s going on out there.

“Do I look ok?” Eddie hisses, his eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep.

“Do you need another pillow? I can ask Mary if-”

“I don’t need a fucking pillow! Harrington! I need my fucking meds!” Eddie yells, and the machine at his side starts to beat out loudly while Eddie grits his teeth, forcing himself to stay still and ride out the pain, counting in his mind.

One. Two. Three.

When finally his jaw relaxes, Steve’s still there, looking at him with fondness, “How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you get?”

“Seventy-four.”

“That’s great. A few days ago it was more than ninety.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, the only part of his body he can move without experiencing any pain, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. Things are getting better. And tomorrow they’ll get even better.”

Eddie doesn’t punch him in the face because he’s really hurting, but the feeling is there.

When the nurse knocks on the door with a tray, Steve immediately jumps on his feet and grabs it, thanking her profusely.

“Look, Eddie. Plain rice and boiled chicken. Your favorite.” Steve jokes, cutting the chicken into small little pieces, ready to feed Eddie.

“You don’t have to feed me. There are nurses here, they are paid for it.”

“I like to take care of you. We’re friends, right?”

Eddie lifts an eyebrow, “Are we? I remember that you didn’t do anything when Tommy closed me in the janitor’s closet. Am I wrong?”

“Well, that’s what before-”

“So let me get this straight: we risked our life together so we’re friends now and you like to take care of me while you wouldn’t even talk to me at school for four fucking years? Thank you, Harrington, but I don’t need anyone’s pity. Especially yours.”

Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times as if he is trying to find the words to reply to Eddie’s accusation, but in the end, he stabs a piece of chicken way too harshly and moves it to Eddie’s lips without a word.

Eddie eats his plate in complete silence, missing the gentle bantering with Steve but still taking refuge in the silence. Once the plate is empty, Steve takes the tray and moves toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” he says before opening the door, “I’m sorry for how I acted. I’m sorry for Tommy’s behavior and I’m sorry if we weren’t friends in high school. And I’m even more sorry if I misunderstood and thought we were friends now. I won’t bother you anymore.” 

When the door clicks close Eddie realized that he fucked up. He fucked up badly. 

Steve is kind and gentle, he loves to take care of the people he loves and the fact that Eddie is in pain isn’t enough of an excuse to treat him like that.

When Wayne comes to visit after his shift at the plant he’s surprised not to find Steve sitting on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Did Steve have a shift?” Wayne asks, grunting while he sits on the chair.

“He’s not coming back.”

“Eddie…” Wayne grumbles.

“What?”

“What have you done?”

“Nothing. Just told him nurses are paid to feed me, he isn’t.”

“That boy dragged your sorry ass back home. He saved your fucking life and spent almost every free moment here with you to keep you company, and you treated him like that?”

“I’m not a fucking charity project, Wayne!” Eddie hisses while Wayne gives him a stern look but doesn’t comment anymore. He just grabs his crosswords and starts reading the definitions out loud, trying to solve the puzzle with Eddie, but Eddie’s mind is too far away to be really helpful, so when the nurse comes back to tell them that visiting hours are over, half of the crossword is still blank.

“Eddie. Call him. Tell him you’re sorry.” Wayne tells him before leaving and Eddie maybe would, if he wasn’t too proud and the only phone wasn’t at the nurses’ desk.

But tomorrow he will.

Tomorrow he definitely will.

[steviewashere]

Love, Rest Your Head

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Canon Typical Injuries Tags: Pre-Season 4, Aftermath of Starcourt Mall, Aftermath of Torture, Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Steve Harrington, Major Character Injury, Established Relationship, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Mentions of Vomiting, Self Sacrificing Steve Harrington, Mentions of Major Character Death (In Reference to Hopper), Foreshadowing, Ambiguous Ending

💕—————💕 The news was pure devastation. Overhead shots of the Starcourt Mall burning. Flames engulfing the building on all sides, swallowing it up until it sat a collapsed, ashen mess. There was no structure. No semblance to any kind of store that was inside. Just dust. Blackened walls. Melted floor tiles.

Eddie sat on the edge of the couch cushion, left hand tucked harshly under his thigh, chomping down on his right hand’s fingernails. There was a metallic tang on his tongue, but he couldn’t get himself to stop. Not even when the raw, exposed parts of his skin bared themself as a tender ache in his mouth’s warmth. Nothing could stop him. In between bites, there were moments where he was holding his breath. Gasping for it when push eventually came to shove. At least it was air he was choking on, not bile.

His uncle was stoic in his recliner in the corner. Until, with the quietest and gruffest voice Eddie’s ever heard, Wayne said, “Your boy. He’s in the parking lot. Has to be.”

“What if he isn’t?” Eddie barely mustered. “What if—What if he’s not there in the parking lot with all those ambulances? What if Steve’s stuck in the debris and he can’t get out and nobody can hear him and then he doesn’t come home and I never—“ He was back to choking on his breath. Sipping at the smallest pockets of air he could manage.

Wayne didn’t answer. The promises that could be made in this moment, every single one of them could be a fallacy.

Then, the news reporter read out those who suffered in the fire. That crisped with the building. Ones that couldn’t be recovered. Ones that were found, yet only identifiable by the licenses in their pockets.

Jenna Kinling Parker Smith Tony Roberts Billy Hargrove…

Eddie bit his fingers harder at that last name. Maybe they didn’t run in the same circles or maybe they weren’t friends. But Billy was still a young dude. He had a life ahead of him. They had classes together. What if…What if…What if, rings loudly in Eddie’s head.

Except, Steve isn’t listed. Neither is his new friend, Robin. They aren’t…They weren’t found in the rubble. They weren’t believed to be in it either. And, as if on cue, the trailer’s phone begins to ring. Eddie is up and out of his seat before he has a chance to miss a single ring.

“Munson residence, Eddie speaking,” he answers hastily.

On the other end is the wet, nasally, raspy breathing of another person. The deeper the breaths, the more he can make out it’s somebody masculine. Their intakes are interrupted by small sniffles. Short bursting whimpers that come from sure pain, not pleasure.

“Hello?” Eddie speaks quietly.

The person gasps. Sobbing around the words, “Eddie…Eddie, I need help.” Steve.

“I’ll help, sweetheart,” he promises immediately. “What do you need? I—Uncle Wayne is here, too. We can help. We can—“

“‘M at the mall. And it’s all charred and…and gone. And I think I—I left your birthday present in Scoops and I’m sorry that I—My head hurts, Eds. It hurts and I’m bleeding and the paramed—they think…Billy’s dead and I watched him die and it scared me and—I don’t like him, I don’t like him at all but he looked sad and he looked…He’s dead, Eddie. I watched somebody die, Eddie,” Steve rambles. His words are heavily slurred. Barely breaking by his breath. Almost swirled by puke. 

Before Eddie has the chance to interrupt, Steve is continuing. “I protected Robin from getting hurt,” he says seriously, gravely. But his next words are tiny, as if Eddie was listening to a child, not his eighteen year old boyfriend. “You’re going to be mad at me.”

“Why?” He asks. Shakes his head though, and asks instead, “Where should I pick you up? Does Robin have a ride home?”

“I got beat up again,” Steve barrels on. “’T’s really bad, Eds. Everything is ringing. Makin’ me nauseous.” His breaths grow heavier as if he’s ready to retch on his sneakers.

Eddie prepares himself to hear it all, because he knows it’ll happen. Knows it like the back of his hand, unfortunately. From how many other times Steve’s been concussed. Yet, he doesn’t care, saying, “I’ll take care of you here at home, but I need you to tell me where I need to pick you up. Does Robin need a ride?”

Steve mumbles, “She already left. Hugged her and everythin’. Rob—Robin’s safe. I protected her from getting hurt. They were going to hurt her, Eds. It would’ve been my fault for getting her involved.”

The words crawl under Eddie’s skin like spiders. He wants to scratch at himself, get them out of his head. Get away from how small each word is that comes from Steve’s mouth. He wants to find out who ‘They’ are and kill them. Wants to rip this world apart for making Steve sound so…horrified. But he just calmly asks, “Where are you, Steve? Where at the mall are you?”

“Front,” Steve mutters, “at the payphone. The one with all the gum on the back. It’s gross, Eds. I feel gross. Smell like—I’m sorry.”

Eddie just swallows harshly. Doesn’t know why Steve’s apologizing. But he’s scared shitless, that’s for sure. He grabs for his car keys on the dining table. “I’m going to hang up, Stevie. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

The last thing he hears is Steve coughing and retching up his lungs. Spiders work their way into his veins.

——— Sure enough, Steve’s by the payphone. Sitting with his knees up to his chest. Leaning against the thin pole of the phone. Inches away from whatever lunch he had last. Doesn’t look like much. Eddie just thought Steve was busy with work and relaxing at home. Though…Eddie’s starting to piece together that maybe Steve never left work. Like he’s been here way too long.

Steve shivers where he grasps to himself and Eddie approaches with great caution.

He crouches down to Steve’s level, keeps his hands to himself, and speaks softly. “Steve, it’s Eddie. I brought you a jacket. And some water. I’ve got crackers. You ready to go home?”

With his one good eye, Steve looks to him. Blood caked around his nose and mouth and chin. Eyebrow split, though covered with a butterfly bandage. His left eye is swollen shut and a deep, concerning purple. A part of Eddie almost wants to ask who left Steve here like this. To sit by himself and hold to his elbows. But, a stronger part of him cares too much about making sure Steve gets home.

Slowly, Steve reaches out his right hand and grasps at Eddie’s left wrist. Thumb harsh over his pulse point. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. Without any fanfare or warning, Steve’s eyes fill with tears. Streaming down his face in sluggish lines. “I was stupid and got in trouble again and now I’m all…I’m all broken and ugly and I smell really bad and you’re gonna have to stay awake with me because I’m not allowed to sleep and I—“

“Baby,” Eddie whispers lowly, “Steve, I’m just glad that you’re alive. I’d rather look after you all beaten up and bloody than…Well, y’know.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” Steve meekly asks.

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”

With great force, Steve shakes his head. Hissing and hiccuping at the pain that surges through him. “It hurts so bad,” he whimpers. “I just—They were going to hurt Robin and—and the kids. I couldn’t let them do that and now I—“

Eddie gently shushes him. “You don’t need to explain yourself right now, okay, sweetheart? We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”

“What if I never talk about it?”

He shrugs. Wraps his free hand over Steve’s where it still grips him. “Then you don’t talk about it,” he whispers. “Let me take you home, though? Give you the food and water I brought. Warm you up and change your clothes. Can clean your face,” Eddie lists. He cups the injured side of Steve’s face with a tentative hand, barely touching his swollen skin. “Clean this all up and brush your hair. Let you sleep.”

“I can’t sleep for long,” Steve reminds him.

“Wake you up every few hours, that’s fine. I don’t have school tomorrow, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“‘M’kay,” Steve agrees quietly. He’s drooping in Eddie’s hold. Exhaustion quickly swamping him. “Sorry if I throw up in the car.”

Eddie gently hefts them up off the ground, leads them towards the van, and gets Steve situated in his passenger seat. He murmurs, as he buckles Steve in, “I can clean up. But I’ll leave the window rolled down. I’ll drive slow. Do you want the jacket?”

Steve shakes his head softly. His eyes are closed and the rest of him is very still to his seat. As if moving anything physically pains him. It probably does, based on what Eddie’s able to see. “I don’t want to be reminded of the heat,” he state quietly.

“Okay,” Eddie whispers. He leans up into Steve’s space, presses a short kiss to his temple, and cranks the passenger window down. “Just lean towards the window a little. Rest. I’ve got you, baby.”

The car ride is incredibly slow, it makes Eddie antsy. But out of the corner of his eye, he notices Steve tensing at every gradual rumble and deep pothole. It makes Eddie want to just get out and push the van. He slides a hand off of the steering wheel and goes to grab Steve’s left wrist, but he jolts away. Head colliding solidly with the window frame.

“Don’t,” Steve bites. “Don’t touch me there,” he whispers.

Eddie swallows down the sudden rise of bile in his throat. “Okay, Steve,” he murmurs right back. “Do you…you need me to pull off for a second? Give you a break from the bumpy road?” Steve gives a slow and tentative nod.

He pulls to the shoulder, parks in silence, and just sits in the driver’s seat. Face forward, eyeing beyond the windshield. He’d turn on the radio, try to fill the gap between their bodies, but knows that the noise would be too much. Instead, he listens in on Steve’s audible deep breaths. Like he’s trying to ground himself to the carseat or maybe veer away from puking out the window. Eddie wants to touch and soothe, like he normally would during Steve’s concussions. But…he can’t. There are tears percolating in the corners of his eyes.

“You need water?” Eddie quietly asks.

“Please,” Steve mutters lowly. His voice is crackling and snotty wet.

Eddie moves slowly between the front seats, grabs an unopened bottle of water, and uncaps it. He leans across the center console to find a straw in the glove box. Plops it in the bottle and offers it up for Steve to take. “Slow sips,” Eddie states, “don’t need to make yourself sicker.” Steve angles his body away from the window, leans forward slightly, and takes the straw between his lips. Each swallow of water looks like he’s trying to consume rocks. His tongue working slowly, hesitantly against the straw. Testing it. “You’re doing a good job,” Eddie can only praise.

When Steve pops off the straw, it’s with a gasping breath. Catching and falling and catching again. He lolls his head on the seat, looking over to Eddie. Chest moving up and down with shallow, croaking shakes of air. “We can go,” he rasps, “I wanna sleep.”

The water bottle goes to the cup holders. And Eddie does what he’s told. Crawling slowly back home. Taking small pauses to check in with Steve, help him drink water, nibble on some crackers, rub his back when he hurls out the car window.

But when they make it back home, they move in complete and utter silence. Through the front door and to the couch. Wayne ogles the two of them, fear present in his eyes. His mouth hangs open, suckled dry of all words he could ever think to say. Eddie makes him grab a bowl of warm water and a rag.

And they just exist in silence.

In fear, Eddie now realizes, of whatever happened to Steve.

Because they’re not stupid. This wasn’t a fire. There was something else. Something more…disastrous. Dastardly. But Eddie places the bowl on the coffee table, sits on Steve’s right on the cushions, and turns them towards each other.

“Alright, I’ve gotta clean the blood off of your face, Stevie,” he encroaches their silence. “I’m going to be really careful. I’ll go slow. But I need you to tell me when you need a break, okay?” Steve blinks groggily at him. His eyes are dilated beyond belief. Eddie’s nauseous just looking at them. These aren’t the eyes he fell in love with.

These eyes are like terror in existential form.

Steve nods, though. He places a shaking hand on Eddie’s left knee. Doesn’t tighten it, doesn’t pet the fabric under his hand, just rests it there. As if he’s searching for an anchor.

Eddie wets the wash rag with the warm water. Raises it to Steve’s chin. “If this hurts, you need to tell me. Here we go.” The rag stains pink and crimson as soon as it touches Steve’s skin. He hates how hard he has to press just to work the blood off, but it’s dried to him. It’s coming off in flakes, Eddie sees the particles fall to Steve’s dirtied uniform. As he works the rag over Steve’s face, he can’t help but notice how stained and red the uniform is, too.

It used to be something Eddie could tease Steve about. Be flirtatious and saucy about it. Talk about stupid things with. Make dumb fantasies and see if Steve will play into them. But looking at it now only makes Eddie’s chest hurt. Makes his stomach turn uneasily. Shrivels something inside of him that will never live again. But he’ll get Steve into his clothes. Get him comfortable. Maybe he’ll burn the uniform when Steve isn’t looking. Rid of it like a demon needing to be expelled.

The last bit of the blood finally comes away, flaking from Steve’s nostrils to the washcloth. Eddie places it back in the pink tinted water. And then he looks back. At Steve’s child like eyes. And his split lip. The plum like bruise around his left eye.

Eddie’s never had homicidal thoughts, but today might just be the eye opener for him.

But he continues to be gentle. Offering, “Let’s get you some of my clothes. I’ll wash your hair in the bathroom sink. Then, you can rest.” Steve just nods, allows Eddie to pull him along to the bedroom, and change him out of his clothes. Ignores the slight bruising on his ribs, where he most likely struggled or fell. Tries to not think about the red, twisting lines across Steve’s chest, arms, and wrists from where he’d been tied. Just covers Steve back up in reds and blacks and soft things. And, while Steve is looking away, throws the Scoops uniform away in a nearby waste basket.

Washing his hair is no struggle. Steve goes listless and quiet when Eddie scrubs at his scalp, carefully detangles knots that were glued together by sticky blood. He barely blinks as he watches Eddie move and go through his hair washing routine. Doesn’t protest any of what Eddie chooses to do—even when he puts too much conditioner in the ends of his hair or doesn’t do two wash throughs with the shampoo, even if he uses a hair dryer instead of a towel. Allows him, which Eddie finds a little odd. He has an inkling, though, that it may just be the gentle touch that Steve doesn’t want to mitigate.

When they’re back in bed, Eddie lays flat on the mattress. Putting space between their two bodies. His alarm is set for three hours from now, where he’ll wake Steve up and make sure his concussion symptoms either are stagnant or lessening. But for now, he just stays put. Eyes up at his ceiling, stomach turning and knotting at whatever happened today.

Whatever happened almost doesn’t matter, knowing Steve made it out alive.

But there’s a haunting to him that Eddie can’t ignore.

Right when he thinks Steve is asleep and goes to close his own eyes, does he hear the smallest of statements.

“Hopper died, too,” Steve murmurs.

“No…”

Steve nods sagely against his pillow. “Heard about it through some of the kids I babysit. Guess he…Guess I wasn’t the only one to make a sacrifice.” Eddie hears him shift, coming closer. His body warmth radiating and tight against his rigid body. There’s a hesitant palm that slithers and sits on Eddie’s chest. Where his heart beats rabidly. “Could…Could’a been me.”

Eddie places his own hand over the back of Steve’s. Presses them together firmly. His chest caving with the push. “Don’t say that,” he harshly whispers. “Don’t…Steve, I thought it was going to be you. Please don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I just…That’s the only thing I could think of before you got me. How I—I almost didn’t get to see you again.”

“At least you’re with me now, right? I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaks. “I just wish I could bring myself to tell you what happened.”

“Don’t need to do that, Steve. Just rest up and get better for me, alright?”

Steve shuffles closer. His head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. He nods. “Thank you. I love you,” he sleepily murmurs.

Eddie wraps an arm around his back and squeezes him tightly. “I love you, too, love bug. Get some sleep and I’ll check on you in a bit.”

The snores are a comfort after tonight.

——— And when he looks Steve in the eyes, mere seconds before he leaves for Vecna, Eddie understands the harrowing sacrificial fear. He’ll be the one to protect Steve now. “Make him pay,” he says. But he knows, reflected in Steve’s eyes, that there is finality in his stare. His stomach turns and his hands shake, but damnit, he’ll make sure that Steve won’t be the one drowning in blood this time.

He hopes to hear snores against his shoulder tomorrow night.

If night comes.

💕—————💕

[hitlikehammers]

seven across

rating: t ♥️ cw: established relationship, SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: marriage proposals, crossword puzzles, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-seven: Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time (anon) + Love is just a four-letter word (@sal-si-puedes)

@pearynice said both of these prompts could be together and I said...let's try! ♥️

“Thing I want to be for you every single moment always, past the day I fucking die.”

They’re not, like, particularly serious about the crossword in the newspaper. As in, they don’t spend all morning on it, they don’t judge the tenor of their whole day based not on whether they finish it, but instead how fast they finish it, they absolutely do not do it in pen—

Basically, they’re not Nancy about it; but they do have fun with it. It’s just a quirky little…nerd thing they share before their coffees are done, before they kiss at their car doors and leave for work, or like this, on the weekends: before they start another pot of coffee and kiss about the clues they couldn’t figure out while it brews.

“Head,” Steve answers, off-handed, looking down his nose with his glasses perched low as he reads the middle section of the paper, something about stocks…probably.

“There’s no indicator,” Eddie snorts at Steve’s response, shakes his head but doesn’t bother to smother his grin; “it’s not what I want to give you every single moment.”

“So you agree you do want that, though,” Steve peeks up so sly, so teasing, so fucking gorgeous it hitches in Eddie’s chest when he so much thinks about it, about him, about his Steve—let alone when he’s face-to-face with the genuine article, grinning in all his glory.

“Was that in question?” Eddie recovers, but he knows his tone’s a little lovesick, knows his smile’s a little dopey for feeling, but this man.

Just; this man.

“Love,” Steve grins around a sip of his coffee, glances down at the crossword in front of Eddie to indicate another guess but his eyes sparkle in that way of his, just so, and Eddie knows it’s…not just a guess.

“Again,” Eddie huffs but can’t help the way a smile stretches wide enough to strain, to ache in his cheeks in the best possible way: “not a thing I give,” and he lets the hand not holding the pencil reach for Steve’s, which is waiting for him, grabs when Eddie’s close and laces thiner fingers together so Eddie can squeeze tight as he breathes out:

“But also never in question.”

Steve’s reading again, so it takes Eddie a little by surprise when his hand’s been lifted, and then pressed to Steve’s mouth with a kiss and when he looks up Steve’s already staring at him, the look there so fucking tender.

“I meant it was a noun,” Steve says so softly, his tone tender, too; “you are what love means to me.”

And Eddie’s pulse does a little double-skip for that because Steve can say those things forever, and it’s won’t ever stop fluttering around in Eddie’s chest like something miraculous.

In fact, Eddie really hopes Steve will say it forever.

“Sap,” he tries to volley back but it mostly comes out sappy, and a little too choked to be anything but a fucking compliment.

“Just honest,” Steve shrugs, smiling soft and playing with Eddie’s fingers before setting them back on the table, but not letting go as he gives another guess a try:

“Home.”

“Also not in question,” Eddie sighs a little…fuck, yeah, a little dreamily before tacking on: “you’re all I need, to know that I’m home.”

And it’s true. It’s so fucking true.

Eddie’s floating on the truth of it, and the fact that he gets to live that truth like this, and he’ll blame that as more than good enough reason to miss how Steve scoots his chair closer and leans over his shoulder to look at the paper he’s writing on.

“That’s more than four letters.”

Yep: Eddie will absolutely blame the high of just…being with Steve, of loving like this, for distracting him from the whole fucking pointof the conversation.

“Oh, I, umm,” Eddie fumbles a little, flustered where he really shouldn’t be, this was actually kind of the plan and he reminds himself of that sternly before he chuckles, and it’s only a little forced to get his footing back: “forgot to say we were past those.”

He looks up at Steve thought his lashes, honestly a bit sheepish and yes, he does bask in Steve’s endeared eyeball, in his indulgent smile before he takes another sip of his coffee, and Eddie thinks he’s in the clear when Steve asks:

“What’s the real clue?” Because they do this, they play with the clues more than they probably don’t when the answer’s obvious, because this is something they do together, and if whichever of them’s manning the writing utensil knows what to write in and they just move onto the next, that cuts down the fun, the soft moments they get to have like this.

And Eddie wouldn’t fucking trade this for…for anything.

“Umm,” Eddie draws out, not just the keep the moment but also because woah, wait: Steve’s putting his mug down and he’s leaning in and that’s not how this goes, nope, not even a little, hold the fuck on—

Also Eddie is supposed to be composed for this, because it’s important, it’s so fucking important, and when Steve’s pressed up against him like this, soft and casual in the mornings together, Eddie cannot be expected to focus, or else: not to focus on anything but the blissful warmth of Steve’s body against him like it belongs, because it belongs, and—

“Wait,” Steve’s nose scrunches, fucking delicious but he’s very close, and he’s reading over Eddie’s shoulder and…okay, okay, this was part of the plan, he just didn’t expect it so fast, or maybe he just didn’t expect the way his mouth’s all dry and his throat’s all tight, and his heart’s beating so goddamn hard but none of it’s like it’s nerves exactly, or maybe not mostly nerves, because mostly it’s just Steve, being near, and something like…excitement, but still:

Still: some of it’s nerves.

“This one’s wrong, babe,” Steve points to one of the verticals feeding down into the number they’re working on: Eddie hadn’t asked about it, and Steve’s frowning maybe for that reason first, before he notices…it’s not even close.

Because none of these were really supposed to match the clues; that wasn’t the point.

And Eddie watches, while Steve reads the other lines that feed into the not-four-letters he had asked after, the actually-seven-letters he’d asked Steve to give to him with a very specific clue, and Eddie’s breath catches when Steve turns to him, eyes big and swimming with questions as he exhales so so soft:

“Eddie?”

Because Eddie’d filled in some of the word, with the wrong-other-words.

It’s…not hard to guess when you see it:

_ U _ B A _ D

And Steve’s breath catches too, then, because, well: with Eddie’s clue, it’s kinda…it’s kinda really easy:

Thing I want to be for you every single moment always, past the day I fucking die.

Steve’s lips part, and his eyes get shiny, shimmery, and Eddie swallows, grabs Steve’s hand and moves the edge of a plate that’s been hiding a ring, breathes in the little gasp Steve give when he sees it like nectar to the gods but sweet, more life-giving than even that, and Eddie trembles a little as he holds it out and meets Steve’s gaze: the tears as slow to fall down Steve’s cheeks, and Eddie knows his are no better, and he means to ask immediately but…Steve is so fucking beautiful, and Eddie’s just a man, y’know?

He cannot help but to stare, and savor, and soak in this moment and this image, to etch it in his memory and call it perfection, and marvel at how it’s been his all this time but then…how Steve’s glowing and his lips are quirked the slightest bit and he’s, he’s…

Eddie opens his mouth to ask, he really does, but Steve’s letting go of his hand and reaching to frame Eddie’s face, and then he’s pulling Eddie to him, practiced and sure and Eddie leans because he knows exactly where he fits, always, and, like, maybe the question’s not even necessary.

Maybe Steve's lips are an answer in themselves.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[cacoetheswriting]

pearl: august 1986 [drabble]

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: approx. 900 summary: finally you embark on the adventure of a lifetime with your best friend turned boyfriend, eddie.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, idiots in love, adult language - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

a/n: wanted to wrap this series up completely with a final little drabble. thank you to everyone that’s been reading and showing support, it really means more than you can imagine! ily <3

“And here’s a whole bag filled with crackers, salted peanuts, and Oreos, “ Robin explains the last of the random stuff she’s packed for you and slides her arm around your waist. She tilts her head and you meet her gaze. “Still can’t believe you’re leaving me behind, you bitch. Just promise you’ll call every single day.”

“Every day,” you repeat and squeeze her gently, “As long as I’m near a pay phone, that is.”

Robin proceeds to pinch your arm, a squeal escaping your mouth as a result. 

“Then you better make damn sure you find yourself near a pay phone or I’m following you out there and dragging your ass home.”

You chuckle. “Okay, okay. I promise… mom.”

“Bitch,” she exhales.

“I’ll miss you too, Buckley.”

Her hold on you lasts only a few minutes more. After letting out a soft sigh, Robin walks back inside the house and you’re trying to remain strong, not let your emotions show because you know the second you’d let the tears fall, you’d reconsider leaving her behind.

After you made the decision to leave Hawkins with Eddie, embark on this adventure together, you both told your mom and Wayne first. They were quick to agree that it’s a great idea. Not only that, they decided to join — at least for a portion of the trip.

The plan was for them to keep you company until New Orleans. There, after some sightseeing, mom and Wayne would take a flight to San Diego. Luckily, you still had some relatives from your dad’s side of the family living in the area; family who after seeing on the news of what happened to most of Hawkins was very quick to offer help. So while mom and Wayne got settled in California, you and Eddie would finish your trip, eventually meeting them there.

Goodbye Hawkins, hello San Diego.

It was a good plan. Everyone agreed there was nothing left for you or Eddie here, but as the date of your move approached, you couldn’t help feeling sad. Robin was staying here, as was Steve. They were going to remain in Hawkins with Dustin, Eleven, and their group friends. Wistful, the thought of moving onto better things while they remained.

Eddie finds you staring blankly at the boot of the car. You hear him sneak up behind you, but you don’t turn around. His arms manoeuvres under yours and wraps around your waist, holding you in place while gently placing his chin atop your left shoulder. 

“It’s all so bittersweet,” you say quietly, not looking at him.

“But it’s also for the best,” Eddie’s tone is encouraging, “With Wayne and your mom also coming, and this plan for a new chapter in San Diego, aside from our friends, Hawkins is overshadowed with bad memories.”

As you turn on your heel to face him, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist.

“This dingy old town gave me you. I’ll be eternally grateful for that.”

“Me too,” he pecks your lips before pressing his forehead to yours, “But you also almost lost me here, forever, and shit it might be selfish to say, I don’t want that happening again. This place is cursed. We’ll be happy in California.”

He’s right. You know he’s right.

Though it still doesn’t make it any easier because goodbyes suck. You knew that all too well. They’re hard, filled with sorrow and sometimes even regret. And as the group gathers outside for the last goodbye, you can’t hold in the tears anymore.

They first break when you hug Eleven. Then her friends, whom you’ve gotten to know in the worst of times, especially Dustin who holds onto you a little longer than everyone else, muttering: “Take care of him, please”. 

The seal breaks completely when Robin approaches with a sullen look on her face. She wraps her arms around you tentatively and you return the embrace instantly. You’ve always felt safe around her and by the way she sniffles into me, you know the feeling is mutual.

“What’s crazy about all this is that you finally kissed Munson,” Robin jokes after a few moments of silence. “Thought you’d never grow the balls.”

You roll your eyes at her comment then pull away slowly, although not fully letting go. Instead you hold her by her forearms. “I’ll miss you, Buckley.”

“Just be safe, okay? And if he hurts you in any way, you call straight away. I will gladly kick his ass.” Robin says, loud enough for Eddie to hear, then walks towards him to also give him a hug.

Your last goodbye is with Steve. His hold on you is strong and the tears that stream down your face as a result are salty. He’s crying too, you can hear him trying to catch his breath. He’d been there for you in the worst of times and because of that, you’re forever bonded. Although the hug doesn’t feel like a complete goodbye. You’re certain you’ll see him again and when you eventually break apart, he promises to visit as soon as you get settled in San Diego.

The whole group stands hand-in-hand, watching you and Eddie get settled in the car — mom and Wayne are already waiting in the backseat. The metalhead looks at you while buckling his seatbelt. There’s a smile on his face and despite your tears, you can’t help but return the expression.

No more sorrow, is all you think as you look at the boy in front of you.

And as if he knows what you’re thinking, Eddie leans across from the driver's seat and captures your lips in a gentle kiss before muttering, “Here’s to our next adventure, my pearl.”

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys , @kurdtbean

[some-little-infamy]

(Read on AO3)

“How would you feel about getting married?”

Eddie doesn’t mean to ask the question, or at least not so bluntly, but the words tumble out of his mouth after spiraling around his head relentlessly for the last hour of his date night with Marisol. They’re cleaning up after dinner, Marisol beside him at the counter drying off the dishes he washed and put on the rack.

“Like, as a concept? Or…” Marisol questions, carefully placing the glass she was holding down on the counter before turning fully to face him.

“To me,” Eddie clarifies, choosing to double-down instead of backtrack.

“I mean… if I’m being honest, I hadn’t thought about it a whole lot. Yeah, it’s crossed my mind in a hypothetical future scenario sort of way, but… you’re not talking about that, are you?” Her eyes narrow as they watch the emotions cross his face. “You’re talking about right now.”

“Not right now,” he says. “But soon.” “Where is this coming from?” Marisol asks. It isn’t a no, but it also isn’t a yes.

“Christopher,” Eddit admits.

“Christopher wants us to get married?” Marisol asks.

“Christopher needs something constant. He needs something long-term. He can’t keep losing people… I can’t keep bringing people into his life who leave.” If he’s going to spring something like this on her then the least he can do is be honest about it. He knows how this must sound otherwise, bringing up marriage out of nowhere. They never spoke of it before, they barely planned for the next week or two, let alone months or years from now.

“Eddie…” Marisol starts slowly, and it’s the tone of a gentle let-down that leaves an immediate pit in his stomach.

“Don’t say no, just-” “I can’t say yes, though. And that’s the problem. I can’t promise to never leave, Eddie. We’re not there. Or I’m not there, at least. And if that’s something you’re looking for… maybe it isn’t fair for us to keep doing this.”

A silence falls between them.

“There’s no chance you’ll be willing to pretend this conversation never happened, is there?” Eddie tries, sensing the line they just crossed and already knowing what it means for them. It means the very thing he was hoping to avoid.

“I don’t think that’d do either of us any good, do you, Eddie?”

Eddie doesn’t know what to think any more. Every move he makes seems to backfire, no matter how good his intentions are, and he’s starting to think that maybe it’s just him.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally.

“Me too,” Marisol agrees. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Me too,” Eddie echoes. If Marisol hears him she doesn’t give any indication, making her way to the door without turning back.

  “There are only two plates,” Christopher says as he takes his seat at the table. “Isn’t Marisol going to come over tonight?”

Eddie’s thankful that he has his back turned, scooping the potpie onto two plates at the counter. His face immediately pulls into a deep frown and he takes a deep breath for a second to steady his mind and his heart before turning to face Christopher with a small smile.

“Not tonight,” he says. “Actually… Marisol isn’t going to be coming around here any more.”

“But I liked her,” Christopher sighs.

“Me too, buddy. Me too.” Eddie forces the rueful smile to remain on his face despite every single instinct wanting to sigh right back.

“Then why did she break up with you?” Christopher asks.

“Hey,” Eddie says, feigning indignance. “What makes you think she broke up with me?”

“Because I heard you talking to Abuela when you dropped me off last night.”

Eddie winces. He remembers bits of the conversation he had with her - how he might ask Marisol to move in with him, or how he wondered if she might be ‘the one’. How much had Christopher overheard? How high did Eddie get his hopes up only to crush them the same way his own were the night before?

“I’m sorry, Chris,” Eddie says.

“It’s okay,” Christopher says.

“I know you liked having someone else around the apartment-”

“Now Buck can come over more often!” Christopher points out.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees with a laugh. “But it isn’t the same.”

“Why not?” Christopher asks. “Buck plays games with me, and eats dinner with us, and helps me with my homework, and watches me when you and Abuela can’t. He even gave me advice about girls,” Christopher adds. “Much better advice than you or Marisol.”

Dinner is growing colder by the second, but Eddie doesn't seem to notice as the seconds of silence following Christopher's statement stretch to a minute, and then two, as his son's words settle over him.

“It isn't the same when Buck is around,” Eddie tries to explain, his words coming slow and carefully chosen. “As it is when I bring a date over.”

“You're right - Buck always leaves at night. But I wish he wouldn't. I like it better when Buck's around. You do, too. Right?”

The question is so casual, so innocent. Christopher talks between bites of dinner while Eddie’s own food continues to cool, untouched in front of him.

If he's being honest with himself, he has missed having Buck around as much as he used to. If he's being really honest, maybe he's been pushing himself to date to try and not think about just how much he likes it.

Likes Buck.

So when Christopher so easily points out that Buck is the most constant part of his life - of both their lives - Eddie wonders why he didn't realize the true weight of that sooner.

As if reading his mind, Christopher fills the silence.

“You should just date Buck. Then he'll never have to leave.”

Eddie's breath catches in his chest.

“It isn't that simple, buddy,” Eddie says.

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed. Because what if Buck doesn't feel the same? Because what if Eddie doesn't just ruin his relationship with Buck, but Christopher's, too? What if he runs the entire dynamic at work, and their friends have to pick sides or avoid him or-

“Areeee you okay, dad?” Christopher drags out the first word, waving his hand - fork and all - in front of him in Eddie’s direction.

Eddie is most certainly not okay, but he isn’t about to explain to his son that he’s having an existential crisis over the affections of a man Christopher is so certain of.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Eddie says, picking up his own fork and taking the first bite of a dinner he’s no longer hungry for. It wouldn’t do to leave the table without eating at least a little, though, or else he’ll never hear the end of it the next time Christopher tries to boycott eating his own food.

“You’d really be okay if Buck and I… dated?” Eddie asks, tentatively easing into the conversation Christopher is already fully having whether Eddie wants to or not.

“Of course,” Chris says.

“And that wouldn’t be… weird for you?” Eddie continues.

“Nope,” Christopher answers, dropping another bite of food into his mouth. “Did I eat enough to go play video games now?”

Christopher eyes Eddie’s barely-touched plate as if daring him to say no.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Thanks!” Chris pushes back his chair and moves as fast as he can before Eddie can change his mind.

Eddie sits there another minute or two, head racing with everything that just happened. Every point Christopher made was not only valid, but also so painfully obvious looking back on everything. All of the nights they spent together, or days helping Chris with projects or sports over the weekends… hell, Eddie made Buck Chris’s guardian if anything ever happened to him, for fuck’s sake.

Eddie has no trouble admitting that Buck is the best thing to happen to the two of them in a long while, so why is he so hung up on taking that one step further?

His cell phone rings, jolting him from his thoughts for just a moment, but of course the name that lights up on his screen shouldn’t be a surprise.

Evan.

Eddie considers not answering it, but changes his mind at the last second, answering it just before it would’ve gone to voicemail. Thankfully, Buck can’t hear the way Eddie’s pulse picks up at the sound of his voice in the context of all the other thoughts running through Eddie’s head just then. “Hey, Buck,” Eddie says by way of a greeting. Now or never. The thought is in his head, the possibility of more, and he needs to know if it’s just him (okay, just him and Christopher) who’ve seen it and thought about it. “Just the guy I was looking for. What are you doing tonight?”

[corrodedbisexual]

bound, beautiful, beloved

Steddie | E | ~7.8k | AO3 link

Written for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! 🥰 I hope you have a wonderful day dear friend and co-member of the sacred cult of Good Boy Eddie. 😂 Happy birthday!!! 🎉🫶

Featuring: Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Play, Shibari, Vibrators, Lace Panties, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, Body Worship, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Mirror Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Laughter During Sex, Making Out, Aftercare, Post-Coital Cuddling, Light Angst, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Trauma, Insecurity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Bondage, Tenderness, Banter, Dorks in Love, Dancing, Massage, Established Relationship, Top/Switch/Soft dom Steve Harrington, Bottom/Switch/Sub Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's good boy, POV Steve Harrington

Steve's boyfriend looks like the ultimate wet dream. There’s never a time he doesn’t find Eddie the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake. Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point. It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer. *** A story of Steve and Eddie growing into their intimate relationship, full of playfulness, amazing orgasms, developing trust and confidence, and above all else, unconditional love.

Snippet below!

Steve licks his thumb and exaggeratedly loudly flips another page of a sports magazine in his hands. One he definitely hasn’t managed to comprehend a single word of, while all his senses are attuned to the sounds coming from the foot of the bed.

The constant buzzing noise. The harsh breathing. The occasional whimper, or sheets rustling, or the springs inside the mattress creaking slightly.

Unable to help himself, Steve once again glances over the edge of the page at the absolute erotic masterpiece that is his boyfriend. He’s not sure why he even decided on this absurd game of mock disinterest. He’d rather be watching the sight in front of him the entire time, not pretend to be reading the magazine he can’t give a single fuck about right now.

Eddie’s sitting back on his heels, his shins bound to his thighs with a gorgeous diamond patterned leg tie. Another piece of Steve’s handiwork is a harness woven across his hips, snug underneath his balls and framing his crotch in a way that makes Steve’s mouth water every time he looks. Besides the bright red ropes, the only clothing on Eddie is a matching red pair of lace panties. Eddie’s cock is straining desperately against the delicate fabric, a dark wet spot already visible below the tip.

Eddie meets his eyes briefly, his pupils blown, lips parted, face and chest flushed. Then, he drops his head and groans, trying to grind his hips back into the source of his sweet torture, to no avail. Everything Steve’s done was to ensure he would neither be able to escape it, nor attempt any extra stimulation.

Of course, potentially he could. His hands were left untied, but untied doesn’t mean free. They are bound by Steve’s firm command, right after he finished all of his rope work, gently tugging on Eddie’s wrists and guiding them down to the mattress. “Hands against the bed, baby. Keep them there. You can be a good boy and do that for me, can’t you?”

And so, Eddie’s hands stay in place, squeezing and clawing at the sheets to either side of his bound thighs.

Steve glances at his watch. It’s only been ten minutes, yet Eddie already looks like a fucking wreck. Steve can see how hard his arms are shaking, how he’s likely desperate to touch himself through the soft lace that must feel like absolute torment on his leaking dick. Creating pressure but no friction. Steve’s tried them on once, so he knows what it’s like when you’re hard, to feel every swirl of that beautiful pattern against hypersensitive skin.

Other than being pretty (so, so pretty stretched over Eddie’s equally pretty cock, hard and thick, with a prominent contour of veins now standing out against the lace), the panties serve a very practical purpose. Steve couldn’t quite figure out how to keep the magic wand in place where he wanted it with only ropes, and this solution was just genius. The handle is tucked into part of the hip harness underneath Eddie’s ass, whereas the head of the device is firmly held by the elastic of the panties, pressed snug against his taint, sending steady vibrations to his balls and prostate. Lowest speed setting. Not enough to push him to the brink, just enough to slowly drive him mad with the relentless teasing.

“Ah, I see you’re… not enjoying your magazine… much..?” Eddie catches him looking and grins, way too cocky for the situation he’s currently in. As if on cue, his dick twitches again in his panties, and he groans, sucking in his stomach and uselessly rolling his hips again, as if trying to grind on thin air. “Oh fuck. Jesus. How much longer?..”

“What, you’ve had your fun already, baby?” Steve teases and clicks his tongue. “I did suggest fifteen minutes. It’s you who insisted on twenty, remember?”

“Uhhhh,” Eddie croaks, wriggling his hips again and slapping one palm several times against the mattress. “Ohhhh, holy ssshit. I regret everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Steve smirks.

“No, I don’t,” Eddie admits with a miserable chuckle and dramatically flops down on his face, ass in the air, letting out a long, frustrated growl muffled by the mattress, before pushing himself back to his heels.

Steve abandons the stupid premise of reading his magazine and just sits back, enjoying the view. He squeezes himself through his boxers; obviously, he’s not unaffected. His boyfriend looks like the ultimate fucking wet dream. There’s never a time Steve doesn’t find him the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake.

Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point, when Eddie would take the initiative and present his own fantasy for Steve to fulfill. No more shyness about it, just unconcealed arousal and eager submissiveness when they first started talking about this kind of scene, both equally horny by the time they finished merely discussing the details. Steve spent days figuring out the right kind of weave for this; then, he’d just have Eddie kneel on the bed, getting used to the position, checking every few minutes if his boyfriend was comfortable, gradually increasing the time he spent bound every night up to an hour; beyond that, Eddie’s muscles were starting to cramp up.

It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer.

Read the rest on AO3

[hellgirlthings]

this is not proof read yall, and this came from my obscure collection of 3am drafts lol- but anyways fuckboy!eddie plagues my mind on the daily tbh

One thing about Eddie Munson, is that he will probably be the best fuck you ever had. Seriously though, he’s ruined every single man for you and you’re not even dating him. Being friends with benefits with Eddie is great don’t get me wrong…. up until it isn’t.

As per usual, your routine involves going over to the trailer every friday- lest either of you has something planned for the night. This friday is no different, he had yet to say if anything came up so you’d just assumed that everything was on track.

Now look, being friends with benefits doesn’t necessarily mean that either of you are strictly seeing the other person, but you would at least expect him to tell you if he was seeing other girls. Since he never did you naturally assumed that he was the seeing anyone other than you. Thats where you fucked up for the second time. When it comes to Eddie, assuming isn’t a guarantee, and quite frequently assuming leads to him managing to do the complete opposite of what you’d think he would.

Knocking on the trailer door, you heard a few muffled swears as well as shuffling feet- which only came to a halt as Eddie opened the door. Cheeks flushed, bangs stuck against his forehead by a sheer layer of sweat and wide eyes as he looks at you. A good five seconds pass when you noticed *her*. Jess was her name? You don’t remember clearly, being that when you had first met her Eddie was more occupied in getting you into The Hideout’s bathroom for a quick fuck than to introduce the two of you. Instead of saying anything, he simply gapes at you while you awkwardly shift your weight, lips in a flat line.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company… next time just maybe let me know?” You try your best to keep your voice steady, even though your heart felt like it had dropped to your stomach. What would be the point in getting mad? You two aren’t together. Quickly gathering your composure, you start heading back to your car, leaving a very dumbfounded eddie at the door. It takes him a few seconds to compute whatever fuck up he had just done before he’s running after you (more like jogging, but still he was trying to get to you before you hopped into the car), grabbing your arm right as you’re about to open the car door.

“Shit, baby please let me explain” Eddie’s voice sounds strained, much too guilty for your liking. Shaking your head, you refuse to look at him.

“Eddie ‘s fine, you don’t have to explain anything” You murmur, really not wanting to have this uncomfortable conversation whilst Jess was sitting in the trailer half naked, waiting for him to go back.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d seen a ghost as to how pale he had become. His thumb brushes against your arm in attempt to comfort you, or actually comfort him because right now he’s freaking the fuck out. You successfully shake your arm away, opening the car door and swiftly hopping in the driver’s seat without him getting ahold of you.

“Sweetheart please, we can talk about this I promise. I forgot to call you” Yeah that was definitely not what you wanted to hear. He simply forgot to tell you that instead of fucking you like he has for the last 7 months, he was going to fuck some random chick he barely knows from a nasty ass bar. Great. You scoff incredulously, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. Without saying another word, you turn the car engine on and drive away.

[yuqiyu]

Guitar Lessons pt.2 (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

♡ part 2 to Guitar Lessons.

*CAN BE READ INDEPENDENTLY

Summary: After getting guitar lessons from Eddie and things escalating, you ghost him for a week. You come back to apologize.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MDNI, oral, penetration, no protection

Tags: no use of y/n, slight angst, fluff, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), dom!Eddie

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Eddie swears he’s been hard since the last time he felt you palm him through his jeans. If he had been completely honest, he would’ve loved to take you right then, looking at how you were splayed out on his bedsheets. 

God, you were breathtaking. 

But then again, it had been easy to hold back. It was enough for him to watch you sleep peacefully in his room, curling your messy head into his pillow and leaving a sweet scent. For just a moment, he could pretend that you were actually still there.

You had left his house before he even woke up, without a single word. Then you didn’t even call him. He couldn’t blame you. He hadn’t even tried to reach out to you because he was afraid.  

So, for the next few nights, instead of calling you, he’d lie down on his bed and close his eyes. He’d remember the way you squeezed around his fingers. How your brows furrowed as your mouth hung agape, drowning in the pleasure he gave you. He could get lost in the maze of his mind, forever running after you. It was his safe place; he didn’t have to worry about rejection in real life. 

He couldn’t forget what you had said, no matter what he did. Boyfriend. The way you whined it to him brought him shivers every single damn time. He hadn’t even thought that you could’ve said such sweet words because you were caught up in the moment. He didn’t like thinking about it, especially because he meant every word uttered to you. The time spent in his mind became a game of push and pull. He hung on every pleasure the thought of you brought him, but every time you popped up, it meant dealing with the inevitable. 

He palms his erection through his jeans, trying to imitate the way you had done it. He hisses and throws his head back. It isn’t the same. 

He sighs, then reaches inside one of the drawers and pulls out a pack of backup cigarettes. His main pack was probably haphazardly thrown somewhere on the floor of his room, and he just couldn’t be bothered to look right now. Before he can light it up, a couple of knocks on his door pull him out of his haze. 

He doesn’t say a single word. The door opens slowly as you peek inside the room. He can see only your head as you smile at him sheepishly.

“Hey, Eddie.” 

He puts the cigarette back in the pack, then looks at you as he sticks his hands in his pocket. He was glad to see you again, but a part of him was still slightly hurt that you left so quickly. 

You go to drop your bag on the ground next to his bed as you had often done before. He watches as you bend over, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and showing off the small of your back. 

You look and smell intoxicating; it’s dizzying. He hated that your mere presence was enough to comfort him. When he goes to speak, the look on your face stops him.

You’re looking directly at his groin, bottom lip tucked so prettily under your teeth. Fuck. He looks down at the large tent that betrayed him. 

“Where have you been?” he asks, voice raspy. 

Your lips purse and you furrow your brows, then shake your head. You get up and walk towards him, putting your hands on his chest. “I’ve been busy, I guess. But I’m not anymore.” 

He takes a step back with his hands up,  like touching you burned him. 

“What’s wrong?” you say, pulling back quickly. 

He throws his fists in the air and laughs bitterly before continuing, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…what are we?” 

You gaze into his eyes for a second, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. A nervous laugh comes out of you. “What do you mean?” 

He watches as you toy with the cuffs of your shirt in uneasiness. “I like you,” he whispers, then takes a deep breath. “I like you—a fucking lot, actually.”

“I know,” you whisper back, smiling softly,  afraid of speaking too loud.

“So…do you?”

“...Yeah, of course, I do.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. You shift on your feet, and he raises his brows. 

“Look,” he says, putting his hands out in front of him, almost like a barrier. “I can’t do this if you’re not into this as much as I am.” 

You step closer, but he backs up again. Eddie knows he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. But if there’s anything he’s sure of in his life, it’s you. And if he can’t have all of you, then he’d rather have none of you even if every single part of him screams for you.  

He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to tear his heart out, yet still hopeful that you also want him as much as he wants you. 

“I’m scared,” you finally say, and you mean it. A chuckle falls from your lips and he can’t help but stare. “I like you…a fucking lot, too. But what if things don’t work out? What if we become strangers? I’d still want you in my life even if I never got the chance to be with you.”

Eddie softens, then reaches out and tucks a strand of hair before your ear. He pulls you in close, taking in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he closes his eyes. He can feel your heart racing against him, and it makes him want to protect you even if it means destroying the world. 

“You make me sound like a selfish jerk,” he chuckles, playing with your hair. He feels content at this moment, here, with you in his arms. But it’ll never be enough, and he thinks he’s asking for too much. “I…can’t promise forever to you—who knows, maybe you’ll never want to see my stupid face again. And I wouldn’t blame you one bit.”

You whine a little noooo into his chest, causing him to bubble up with laughter and push you out at arm’s length as he unabashedly checks you out. 

“I meant what I said, y’know, and—and I know this is a lot for you to think about so—” 

“Okay, I want this.”

“What?” he asks incredulously. 

“I was selfish for leaving you high and dry like that. No pun intended,” you say as he snorts. “But I don’t want just this part of you. I want all of you. I’m sorry, Eddie. I shouldn’t have run away. You are the best thing that’s happened to me.” 

Eddie kisses you square on the lips. It’s hungry and passionate as if he’s trying to swallow you whole. You lean into him and allow him to explore your mouth as your tongues dance in tandem with one another. He slowly inches you towards his bed until it hits the back of your knees and you fall back, watching lustfully as he peels off his shirt. You bite your lip subconsciously, which causes him to groan and anticipate what comes next. 

“What, no guitar lessons today?” you question coyly.

“No, princess,” he whispers, his voice low and deadly. “You caught me on my day off.” He pulls your clothes off swiftly with your aid, and you release a giggle as his fingertips tickle your sides, barely ghosting your skin. Goosebumps rise from your arms, your body firing up with thirst and excitement. 

He begins to run his mouth down your jaw and neck, idly nibbling on the sweet spot of your skin. It takes everything inside of you to stop him, and when he comes up with slightly swollen, wet lips, you feel like you could pass away. His wide eyes stare at you, and you don’t miss the way it sparkles with hunger. 

“Flip over, Eddie,” you command, moving to push him down.

“What? Why—oh.”

Looking down at you, chin tucked firmly to his chest, he beholds the sight of your stripped form working on his belt. Your breasts glide over his clothed thigh and all he could think about now was how your nipple would feel brushing against him bare. 

You’re able to quickly remove the garment, tossing it to the side, eyes focused on the tent of his boxers. You glide your palms over his thighs and lick your lips while you think about every dirty little thing you want to do to him—and he knows it. He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans in frustration.

“Stop fucking teasing me already.” 

Your fingers move under the fabric and stroke the shaft deftly, giving him a small taste of what’s coming. He squirms under your touch, his feet flexing from the pleasure. His hips are humping the air erratically, frantically looking for your hands again. 

“Patience, sweet boy, I’ll get to it.” 

“‘S Been a week, I can’t wait any longer, princess.” He feels as if he’s about to implode with every second that passes without your touch. But it doesn’t take long for you to finally cave in and give him exactly what he needs. 

“Shit, Eddie, you’re…big,” you murmur in awe. 

“Yeah? That’s all for you, baby. Now, please.”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you beg,” you say. Your head ducks down as you concentrate on just his tip, working your tongue around the edges and giving some love swipes to the top from time to time. You let your saliva dribble down his shaft as you rotate your head in a circular motion, bobbing him to sensitivity. 

When your gaze moves up to his face, you notice his arms gripping the sheets as veins pop out from his forearms. He wants to look at you, but the pleasure has his eyes half-lidded and completely out of his mind.

You were just getting started. 

Your strokes don’t stop as you slowly move his shaft away from your face, giving you full access to his balls. You give an experimental lick. His flexed legs jolt, your smirk pressing against him.

“O-oh shit, fuck,” he drawls, becoming music to your ears. You continue suckling his skin, your fingers covering whatever your mouth can’t. It’s difficult to stop—you can’t help but bob greedily, swallowing him hole and feeling his tip hit the back of your throat.  You pop your mouth off of him.

“How does it feel, baby? Talk to me.” Your voice sends vibrations through his core, sending him close to the edge. 

He sputters incoherently while you work your magic touches on him. It has you feeling proud of yourself, knowing that you can turn him into jelly.

“You feel so—so fucking good, shit, princess,” he moans. “God, I’m so close, just like that, please!” 

You begin sucking harder. Your hand holds down his tense thigh as the other one continues stroking at record speed. He’s fucking straight into your mouth, and you try your best not to gag as each thrust hits your uvula. 

“F-fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

Eddie’s cum shoots straight into your mouth as he screams your name, hips still bucking into you. You struggle to swallow it, with some dribbling out the corner of your mouth. Once he finishes riding out his high, chest heaving heavily, he looks up to check on you. Beads of sweat are trickling down his forehead, falling onto his forearms that are propping him up. You smile at him, licking your lips.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growls, taking in the sight of his cum dripping down your chin, to your neck, and then your chest. Eddie can feel himself getting hard again, looking darkly at you sticking your tongue out playfully. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Before you can do anything, he grabs you by the waist and throws you down on his bed, making sure to give your ass a firm squeeze. His mouth is all over yours in seconds, and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in closer. All you can smell is the intoxicating haze of sex mixed with Eddie’s natural woodsy musk. He lets go for a second just to look into your eyes. Your heart skips a beat, and you suddenly feel shy. He’s looking so tenderly at you, his gaze roaming all over your face. He runs his thumb over the underside of your jaw, taking in the way you look back at him. You reciprocate, putting both your hands on his face and pulling him close, allowing you to kiss him passionately. He inhales you in, and you wrap your legs around his torso, shuddering at his cock rubbing up against your mound. You start rutting against him instinctually, wetting him with your juices. His hand slides to your thigh, running it up and down.

“I need you inside me now,” you whine unabashedly in his ear. He leans down to peck you on your forehead and smiles.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Eddie, please, I want you so, so bad,” your voice cries out, and he all but loses any composure he has left. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, head leaning to the side as his eyes crinkle into a dopey smile. “But I’m feeling a little bit selfish today.” He dips his head between your legs, arms keeping your thighs apart. His teeth graze your inner thigh, then he bites cheekily down into the plump flesh right next to your opening. You gasp, craning your neck to watch him grin at you before diving down. The pleasure overrides your system within a millisecond, leaving you with an arched back and labored breaths. 

“Wait, s-stop—” you say, pushing yourself away from him. He pops back up, your wetness already smeared all over his lips. 

“What’s wrong?” He looks so innocent. Big brown eyes hit you like a semi-truck and for a second, you think about how lucky you are. You shift your legs, lining them up at the sides of his face, and squish his cheeks with your knees. 

“Aren’t you tired? You already—well, y’know,” you say, waving your hands frenziedly. 

“Tired of what?” he blinks innocently, playing into a facade, but you know he just wants you to say it. You squirm away, feeling embarrassed. Eddie doesn’t let you, though, and he holds a firm hand over your thigh. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, sweetheart, but you need to use your words, okay?” 

“You already made me cum last time,” you reply, your face beet red. “Don’t you want to fuck me instead?”

His face breaks out into a soft smile. “Of course I do. However…since you left me high and dry the last time we did this, I’ve gotten thirsty.” He wastes no time and gets straight to work. He holds your legs spread wide apart and wastes no time sticking his tongue deep into your pussy. Compared to the soft lingering touches before, Eddie works a little bit more roughly this time. He still remembers where your sweet spots are, reaching you close to your climax in a shorter amount of time. You can tell he’s slowly losing his patience through how you see his hips bucking as he eats you out. 

Your whiny moans egg him on. It fuels his ego and his throbbing cock as he jerks against the mattress. Your wetness is smeared around your inner thighs, causing Eddie to lose his grip on your legs occasionally as you squirm against his hot mouth. The sloppy sounds he makes are so lewd that it makes you clench around his darting tongue, never leaving a single part of your folds unattended. It doesn’t take long for your body to shake uncontrollably as he helps you ride out your high. 

Eddie’s lust-filled eyes meet yours, his tongue flitting out to lick up all the remaining juices left around your slit. The sensitivity is overpowering and leaves you trembling. He loves watching the way it still clenches over nothing, its speed slowing down. His lips pucker into a small opening, and he blows softly over you. The skin glistens as you jerk back and squeak out,  “Eddie!” with both eyes squeezed shut. You open them back up when you feel the edge of the bed sink, watching him crawl up towards you. 

“That was…scrumptious,” he drawls, sticking his tongue out for you to see. You spot a little dribble at his jaw.

“Oh, you missed a spot,” you say, reaching over and licking a fat stripe up his jawline from his chin. When you get to it, you give a little suckle, tasting a piece of yourself. You feel him gulp. With your lips pressed to the curve between his jaw and ear, you whisper. “Won’t you just fuck me already?”

“Full of energy today, huh?” he observes with a quiver in his voice, tapping a finger on the tip of your nose. “And so, so demanding, too.” You pout at his reaction, slightly disappointed because you thought he would be more eager to take you. He notices, and his features transform from teasing to pure lust within a millisecond. 

With one swift motion, he pushes himself all the way inside. You yelp out in surprise, gripping his sheets for dear life. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and your back arches, attempting to adjust to his girth. He gives a slow experimental thrust, watching your face struggle to keep up. A sadistic part of him likes knowing that he’s big enough to give you a run for your money, so he wriggles a little bit inside of you, just to remind you how much of him you need to take in.

“C’mon, you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You’re taking me in so well,” he breathes, thrusting at a more consistent pace, though still slow. Eventually, the discomfort begins pleasure coursing through your body. Eddie admires the way your face contorts, then leans down to suckle on your neck as he increases the speed of his movements. His hands keep busy on your body, running over the slope of your breasts and nipples. They map out every curve and angle, inking them into memories upon his fingertips. 

“You feel so good,” you moan. “Keep touching me like that.” Your hands reach out and grip his back, feeling his muscles flex under your touch. 

He laughs. “Do you feel how fucking hard my cock is inside you? You take me so well, shit, princess.” When you don’t reply, his thrusts slow down to a stop, the head of his member throbbing inside your core. You wiggle your hips to feel any friction you can, but it isn’t enough. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t take kindly to being ignored, y’know.”

He flips you over in an instant, pulling your ass up and causing you to stuff your face in his pillow. Your murmur into it incoherently as he pushes back inside, making sure to pull your hips back against him with each thrust. There’s momentum within each of his moves now, and you feel your body rock. You use all your energy to push up on your forearms, then cry out as you try to push back against him with every thrust. 

“Well, sweetheart? Can you feel how fucking hard my cock is inside you now?”

“Y-yes! Fuck, that’s it, right there, please, baby,” you whimper, feeling your muscles fail you. Your body falls limply, keeping your back arched. Eddie supports your body, leaning over to run his hands over your breasts as he pushes himself in deeper. 

“Let me hear those pretty moans a little louder,” he grunts. “Nobody’s home, you’re all mine, baby.” You release a guttural moan once he finds your sweet spot, and he smirks in response. He reaches over and pulls your body up so that your back is pressed up against him deliciously, chest heaving. He pulls your hair to the side and presses his lips to the side of your neck, exhaling in bliss as you run your fingers through his hair behind you.

“Fuck, you’re so deep inside of me—y-you feel so good.”

“You sound so cute when you’re fucked out like this,” he laughs. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, yeah?”

“Only you, Eddie,” you sigh.

“Say my name again.”

“E-Eddie,” you say, your voice muffled against the sheets. He can see your chest heaving against his bed, your hair splayed out messily. A smug look spreads across his face, hips moving at a languid rate. 

“I know you can do better than that.”

You muster all the energy you could to scream his name. He rewards you by burying himself deeper, faster, and rougher plunges into you. The head of his cock hits your g-spot perfectly, and you hear your voice echo off the walls as the room fills with the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking and the lewd slamming of skin on skin. 

“Shit, you know how hard you make me?” he pants, giving your asscheek a loving squeeze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Every fucking time you come over here and strut in your slutty shorts. Fuck me!”

You wiggle your backside, clenching down on him and causing him to growl in satisfaction. “I wore them for you.”

“Is that right? What a fucking tease. Gotta make sure you wear them only for me from now on, right, princess?”

“Y-yes, only for you…oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, Eddie!”

“Mmm, cum for me, shit, cum on my cock!”

He feels your warmth clenching down hard on his cock, getting him closer to his own climax as well. The wet noises bring you both over the edge as he talks you down.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, atta girl. You’re doing so good for me, god, I’m so fucking lucky to have you.” His hips are still jerking into you as he unloads his hot seed inside you. You can feel it warm you up and drip out of your hole. Eddie presses a deep and passionate kiss on your lips, then flops to the side and pulls you into his chest as he nuzzles his head into your chest.

You run a hand through his head and peck his forehead. “I should’ve done this way sooner.”

“You realized just now?” He bites your shoulder playfully.

“I—I guess I just didn’t think you’d want to. I’m not narcissistic enough to think everyone likes me like that,” you say wistfully, chuckling. Eddie shuffles up and looks at you seriously. 

“Everyone adores you,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face. You blink.

“Sounds like some personal bias.”

He reaches out and holds your chin, examining your face. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Pretty, smart, and funny, but bratty and annoying sometimes, too. That’s what I call duality. But you’re right. Maybe I’m just crazy in love with you.” He shrugs.

“You’re in love with me?” Your eyes begin to flutter close, unable to fight against the sleep.

“Good night, princess. I love you.”

[lady-pug]

All Night Long

Summary: Eddie pays you a visit at night, and he has some news for you, something regarding a bet. Fluffiness ensues (and maybe a little bit more).

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 1,9k

Warnings: making out, mentions for sex, implied sexual content, a little bit of spiciness (some over-the-clothes action), so just in case I'm rating this as mature (so you know the drill, minors DNI please)

Notes: Oof, I was aiming for fluff, but when I went to add the sugar I accidentally added too much spice instead. Oh, well. This one is set more or less at the same time as the previous one. Eddie deserves all the good things in the world and whoever disagrees is just wrong. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I truly hope you enjoy this.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided (other than being gorgeous, that is!)

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A knock on your window startled you out of the world your head had currently found refuge in. Fumbling for a bookmark (because you seriously thought dog-earing should be considered a federal crime), you heard a second, softer thump on the glass.

“Alright, alright, Munson, I’m coming.”

Hopping out of your bed and moving closer to the window, you steeled your heart for what you were about to see, having been spooked one too many times to think he would just be waiting normally for you. Sure enough, his face was squished right against the glass, tongue out, piggy nose and cross-eyed.

“Don’t you ever get tired of almost giving me a heart attack everytime?” you said after opening the window “And why are you coming through the window?”

“Can’t let your folks find out you’re mingling with such bad influences now, can we?” he said, folding his arms on the windowsill and laying his chin on them, all the while balancing himself on a tree branch.

“Eddie,” you sighed, lips threatening to curve up into a soft smile “you know my parents adore you.”

“How can you be so certain? For all I know they may be plotting against me for corrupting their precious daughter.” he hissed, trying to appear intimidating (but only managing to sound incredibly cute).

“They invite you and your uncle over for every single holiday. And they never forget to buy you that candy you like for Halloween.” 

“Even after everything?”

You nodded, reaching over to push his bangs away from his eyes. Eyes that looked somewhat… haunted.

“Even after everything.”

He shrugged, as if all you said only now dawned on him.

“That’s true.” he paused, looking between you and the open window “Sooo, are you gonna let me in? I feel like there are already splinters in my ass from this damn branch!”

“You’re wearing jeans!” you giggled, amused about his antics, before stepping back “Come on in.”

He braced his hands on the windowsill and used his legs to push himself away from the tree and into your room. As he stepped one foot on the floor and went to stand up, his other one got caught in the windowsill, making him lose his balance. You tried moving closer to catch him, but suddenly your back was against the ground, him having gracelessly tumbled over you, one of his hands shooting out to hold the back of your head so it wouldn’t bang against the floor.

“Way to make an entrance, Munson.”

“Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. The lunch ladies at the cafeteria would say the same.” he said as he lifted himself on his forearms, his face hovering just a few inches from yours “Hi.”

“Hi.” you cooed back.

He smiled and dipped his head down, aiming for a kiss, but you turned your head away at the last second, making him miss. Instead, his lips came in contact with the corner of your mouth.

“You are not a bad influence, Eddie. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” you smiled softly up at him, before your sweet grin turned into a mischievous smirk “If anything, it is your uncle that should be worried. I’m the one dating a high schooler after all.”

“Oh, hardy har har.” he rolled his eyes “I told you, this is my year, I’m pretty sure I’m off to graduation real soon.”

“I know, I believe you.” and you truly did.

He only smiled down at you and tried kissing you again and this time you let him. His surprisingly soft lips met your own in a sweet, almost chaste kiss, before he was pulling away and nudging your nose with his.

“How was your day?” he asked softly, before suddenly he was jumping off you and onto his feet “Oh! You must be pretty uncomfortable down there. Here, let’s move this to somewhere more comfortable.” 

He extended a hand in order to pull you up (and almost ripped your shoulder out of its socket while doing so) and led you to your bed. He paused, examining your sheets before picking up the book you had been reading.

“One Hundred Years of Solitude.” he read out loud “Is it any good?”

“It is.” you smiled softly as he read the first page “You should give it a try sometime, I think you’ll like it.”

“Can I borrow it after you’re finished? I promise to care for it like it’s my first born.” he raised his eyebrows, clearly finding himself hilarious.

“Sure. You’re one of the few people I trust with my books and you know that.”

He hummed in satisfaction before carefully placing the paperback on your nightstand. With your sheets now cleared, he sat down on your bed, back propped against the headboard, and pulled you down to straddle his hips.

“Now where was I? Right,” Eddie placed a soft, quick peck on your lips “how was your day?”

“It was good.” you answered with a peck of your own, which elicited a smile from him “Mateo was complaining about Mr. Fuzzytail again.”

“That stray cat he found a few years ago?”

“Yeah, the very same. Apparently the little thing is a lot older than he originally thought, has been getting sick a lot. He said he was taking him to the vet as soon as possible to figure out what’s wrong.”

“Hmm.” he pressed his lips to your cheek “Not to be rude to Mr. Fuzzytail or anything, but why are we talking about the feline troubles of one of your coworkers? One, might I add, that doesn’t even work the same shift as you do?”

“He might have mentioned wanting to swap shifts?” you phrased it like a question, but knew by the way Eddie’s head perked up that it had spiked his interest “Depending on what the vet says? He mentioned something about not working at the same time as his girlfriend so one of them is always at home with the old furball.”

“And…?”

“And, if I can convince him to swap shifts with me, that way I can start coming to your campaigns.” you averted your eyes, slightly embarrassed, lowering your voice to an almost whisper before adding “I know how much it means to you.”

After a beat of silence you glanced back at him only to notice him staring at you, eyes unreadable. You swallowed thickly, afraid you might have crossed a line, when he quickly lunged at you, large hands holding you up by the small of your back, and his lips enveloped your own in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth clashed together as he put more force into it, nipping at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he pulled away.

“You’re perfect, you know that, sweetheart?” he said breathlessly, an almost dreamy expression crossing his features while his hands moved to hold you by your waist.

“Hmmm” you kissed him again, much softer this time, a cheeky grin forming on your lips “I did not know that.”

“Then I’ve not been doing my job properly.” he kissed you once, twice, three times softly before smiling mischievously at you “What a neglectful boyfriend I have been.”

You nodded your head as his feather light kisses shifted onto your cheek, passing your jaw and down the column of your throat. One of your hands tangled on his curls, your nails running over his scalp, which prompted a small whimper from him.

“Let me make it up to you?” he asked, nipping against the skin of your neck.

While you hated to cut his (and your own) fun short, you wanted to hear more of his voice before you took it any further. Cupping his jaw with one hand, the other one never leaving his soft, messy locks, you guided his lips to meet your own once more.

“First, tell me:” you said between kisses “how was your day?”

His entire body froze.

“Oh!” his head shot up, almost bonking against your own, which made him giggle in turn (yes, you prided yourself in being the only person to ever hear Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson giggle) “I almost forgot. The craziest thing happened today!”

You huffed, only mildly annoyed at having to stop kissing his inviting lips, but you were the one who asked him to talk about his day after all.

“What happened?”

“The boys from Hellfire made a bet.”

You stared at him, puzzled.

“A bet?”

“A bet. And that’s not even the worst part. They made a bet about me.” he tilted his head from one side to another “Well, in fact it was about us.”

“What?” you squealed quizzically “What about us?”

“They didn’t seem to believe I have a girlfriend.” he squeezed your hips playfully “Much less a gorgeous one.”

“What? Come on, that’s ridiculous!”

“It’s the truth.”

“Who came up with that ridiculously stupid idea?!” you shook your head “No, wait, let me guess: Harrington?”

“Worse.” he smirked “It was Dustin.”

“Noooo!” you gasped, bringing a hand to your chest in mock hurt “Even I am offended now.”

“You can only imagine how I felt.” he pretended to wipe an invisible tear from one of his eyes, making you laugh.

Once you calmed down, you cupped his face, running your thumb softly over his cheek, concerned.

“How are you feeling about all of this?”

“Honestly?” he chuckled “I can’t wait for Henderson and Harrington to fall flat on their faces!”

You scoffed, having known he would find a way to make light of this situation. It’s what he always did. 

“Now,” you pulled him in for another kiss “you were saying something about making it up to me?”

Feeling him smirk against the side of your head, you started trailing down, kissing along his neck. One of his hands slid up your torso, sliding under your shirt.

“Sweetheart.” he said, a little out of breath “You should grab a tape. Something fast paced maybe? Don’t want your folks catching us now, do we?”

You giggled, your teeth scraping gently against the skin of his collarbone.

“My parents aren’t home tonight.”

He groaned a loud sigh of relief.

“Ugh, thank god!” he spoke quite loudly “You know I hate doing it with music on. The rhythm is never quite correct.”

“Eddie!” you giggled looking up at him “That’s because you always choose a heavy metal of some sort. And besides, you’re one to complain. You’re not the one who’s left feeling sore afterwards because you tried to match the rhythm of the song.”

“Do I leave you feeling sore, sweetheart?” he asked, a smug look crossing his face as he pecked your lips twice.

“Yes, not that I’m complaining though.” you pouted. “Why don’t we leave for your trailer when my parents are here? I know your uncle works the night shifts.”

“You are a princess and should be treated accordingly.” he nuzzled his nose against yours “That dusty old junk is no place for you.” 

Pulling gently on his hair, you made him look at you.

“You know I don’t care about any of that.”

He nodded, kissing you again.

“I know.”

One of his hands snaked around your waist while the other pushed against the bed to help him gain enough momentum to flip you on your back, his body on top of yours against the mattress, making room for his denim clad hips to grind against your own between your thighs.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be gentle tonight.” he kissed you very softly, so softly you almost couldn’t feel it “Especially because I intend on keeping you here” he started punctuating every word with a kiss against your lips “All. Night. Long.”

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: a/b/o dynamics subtly -read, poorly, hinted at by writer, use of pet names ( little one, pretty little thing, etc) and swearing. this part is tame and it's just to set the scene for the next, the disclaimer is here because it's a/b/o and some people lose their goddamn mind when they stumble across this type of thing in the tags.. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt seventeen - a/b/o ( told in two parts )

character | fandom - alpha!werewolf!eddie munson | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, omega & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 900

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you're chased through the woods by jason carver, an alpha from a rogue pack after you're caught out just as you're about to go into heat. the chase leads you straight to the doorstep of your true alpha, town loner Eddie Munson, aka the alpha with no pack..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

There's something in the air that has every cell in his body on edge as he stands in the doorway of the abandoned cabin he calls home now. Eddie Munson watches the storm as it rolls in, thick fog settles in a hazy blanket just above the forest floor.

He can just barely see the lights of town in the distance and a glance skyward to watch as the moon peeks through thick clouds has him tensed up.

The air smells like rain..at first. But then, the mouth-watering scent of caramel edges in.

He's been catching faint hints of the same scent on the breeze all damn day and before he can stop himself, he feels the painful prick of fangs, threatening to pierce his gums. A howl rips from his throat as the wind picks up, fanning that sweet scent and the scent of earthy rain straight for him. It lingers, heavy. Inviting.

He breathes in deep.

Mate. Find her. Find her now. - it's the urgent cry from the animal trapped and buried within. It's a plea that Eddie Munson does his best to ignore for the fifth time in a day, but as he turns, every intention of going back inside the cabin, he's bowled over by the sweet scent. She's closer. Danger! Go to her. - it's the final outcry of the animal within before everything happens all at once.

You come crashing through the treeline and the storm that's been holding back all day finally kicks off. That asshole Carver, the future Alpha, he's hot on your tail. He's taunting you, laughing like a maniac as he tells you that him chasing you down is your own fault and you need to relax, let nature take its course.

Eddie normally stays far away from the business of everyone in town but this time, a red cloud of rage blinds him and before he knows he's doing it, he's dove from the porch of the abandoned cabin he calls home. He places himself between you and Jason Carver, arms folded over his chest as he towers over Jason at his full height.

❝ Get fucked, Carver. This sweet little thing is mine.❞

You look up at Eddie from the spot you've landed on the ground after tripping over a tree stump you failed to see in your haste to put some distance between yourself and the unwanted advances of Jason, the single most obnoxious Alpha asshole you'll ever encounter. 

Is he my true Alpha? - you're staring up at the handsome loner in awe as the temperature of your body raises and dizziness settles in for you.

You're in heat. You never should've left your safe haven but all day long you've felt this pull to the forest. To a scent that keeps finding you on the breeze. The scent is stronger now, and you swallow hard as soon as your daze clears enough to realize that it's the handsome loner in front of you. 

It has to be.

Eddie growls at Jason, the sound more animal than human and a clear warning for Jason to get lost.

❝ Take the bitch, man..❞ Jason smirks, ❝ She’s not good enough for me anyway. ❞

Jason makes a hasty retreat and Eddie kneels down next to you. Rough hands circle your ankle, the touch seems to cool down the raging fire in your veins but only a little. After he surveys your swollen ankle quietly, big brown eyes fix on you. ❝ You shouldn't be out by yourself, doll..❞

❝ I was trying to find you.❞ you mutter in response, dazed as you stare up at him through a curtain of hair. Eddie pulls himself off the wet ground and then he's hauling you up, it's rough but he doesn't mean to be. ❝ Yeah, well..❞ he answers quietly, ❝ Its dangerous, sweetheart..❞ he's carrying you over the threshold of the cabin, pausing to back against the door to close it so he doesn't have to put you down. ❝ You’re lucky I saw Carver chasin' after you.❞

❝ Yeah.❞ you murmur, exhausted from the running you've just done and on top of it, starting your heat cycle. You bury your nose in his neck and breathe in the scent of him because it's just about the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment. 

Eddie carries you into the bedroom at the back of the cabin and he lays you down in his bed gently, muttering to himself that maybe just being surrounded by his scent will help.

But you don't want him to leave you, not like this, all alone in your weakened state in a cabin.

❝ Sweetheart, much as I'd love t' stay, that's not gonna keep our stomachs full. I'll come back.❞ Eddie grips your jaw to make you look up at him, ❝ You’re safe. Nobody ever comes out here, sweetheart. And I'll be gone ten minutes, tops. Just going to check a trap.❞

You are hungry, your stomach growls on cue. He grabs a crossbow and a quiver full of handmade arrows and after pausing at his bed to tuck blankets cloaked in the essence of him around your curvy little body tightly, he's gone.

Then the fever takes over again for a little while and you doze off, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep...

[trashmouth-richie]

Based on “someone like you” by adele

there will be 3 separate versions of this fic

modern day au | 6k | steddie | warnings: no minors mentions of sexual acts, abusive behavior, underage drinking, drug use.

(coming soon)

[eddie x fem!reader version]

[steve x fem!reader version]

The crunch of the paper beneath Eddie’s grease coated hands is just loud enough to stifle the gasp and sob racking through his chest. Ink is smeared beneath his fingers as the sweat forms on his palms and the wave of nausea trickles through his body, a pile of bricks in his gut. He barely makes it to the trash can in the break room before he tosses his breakfast, wretching hard enough that his stomach feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself a pink inner tube deflated in his body.

“Christ.. y’ alright?.” Jim says, slapping Eddie on his back, “look like hell, why don’t y’ go home, I’ll finish up that oil change on the Jeep.”

Without a second thought, he stomps out of the break room door and through the large open bay door, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, still clutching the newspaper.

The steering wheel is beaten so many times it’s a wonder it hasn’t broke yet. Pens, lighters, and dnd dice are thrown at the windshield as Eddie comes undone. Letting the screams escape his strewn mouth as he sits in the driveway. Spit is flying from his lips as he screams.

Months had gone by. Not a word. Not a peep. Not a single fuck you, or a longing glance down a grocery store aisle since he had seen him after the fight they had months ago. Now all of a sudden there he was, looking like fucking Malibu Barbie and Ken smiling beautifully in black in white. Hugging her from behind as they both smile lovingly into the camera lense. A beach set behind them, a princess cut ring, from Tiffany’s no doubt, weighing down her left ring finger. Round glasses and the dusting of a mustache splattered on his upper lip, cover his once boyish features. His hair was more uniform now than what it used to be. But there he was, in a matching linen outfit straight from Tommy Bahama, holding his bride, Steve Harrington was married.

Harrington and his wife celebrate one month of wedded bliss in the Bahamas. [picture taken 6/5/2022]

The words bump against each other in Eddie’s brain. He’s reread it almost a dozen times now. Hours have gone by since he first saw it… the trail of spilt whiskey and beer cans littering the floor around him as a good indication of how much time has passed. Yet here he sits-- reading— contemplating—- furious. Eyes burning with tears as they slither down, foregoing finding a new path as the river of sorrow is carved deep on his face.

Steve Harrington..

Steve mother fucking Harrington is married.

To a woman.

The hot salt of heavy tears find their way into his mouth as he sobs again and again. His mind trying like hell to reject what is in front of him, the alcohol increasing his wallowing with every drop on his tongue. Steve. The name was bitter as he dialed the number, the monotonous ringing in his ear, praying the other line would answer. He was fragile, hanging on by a thread.

“Hello?” The voice croaked through the line, it was late, too late to be calling, but desperate times…

“R-Robs… I— I can’t— when did he!? — ” his scattered sobs are making talking almost unbearable.

“Oh Eddie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” as her voice cranes into Eddie’s ear his mind is flooded with memories of Steve Harrington.

—

“Come on, you’re not afraid are you?” Steve said, ripping his shirt off over his head, and climbing the white steps to the high dive at the Hawkins Pool. It was well past open hours at the pool. Street lights danced on the darkened water, the red swishing fabric of Steve’s swim trunks stopped as he bent at the waist to lower down to Eddie’s face. “It’s not scary, I promise.” His lips turned at the corners into a smirk. He was beautiful, angel kisses splattered across his face. Green honeyed eyes the color of the woods, drank him in, enticing him with a flirty gaze. The smell of his carmex and his Farrah Fawcett hairspray lingering as he nudged his nose against Eddie’s cheek and suddenly retreated, tan legs climbing higher up the diving board. Muscles extending, legs bending and jumping as he dove perfectly into the water. The small ripples of water deepening as he came out of the water, whipping his brown locks around and pushing them back on his head. He waited in the deep end for Eddie, silently begging him. Never pushing, but telling him through his eyes, the way his hands swirled in the water, always flirting, that it was okay, to take the leap, indulge in something new.

Eddie had never been with a guy before.

He was unsure of his feelings. Not that he wasn’t pretty or handsome, he went on a few dates but each one ended the same way—he just found he would rather be them than be with them.

Taking that first step up the ladder was solidifying his feelings toward Steve. The weeks of longing glances in Buckley’s basement, going to the movies as friends but feelings erupting so strongly he didn’t know what they meant. The feel of Steve’s pinky finger grazing his as he dipped into the popcorn bowl. His lips covered in buttery salt, a single drop of Dr. Pepper dripping from his chin. Eddie couldn’t turn his eyes away from him. He shoved it down, suppressed it for as long as he could. And now, three months later, in the swelling blistering heat of the summer, Steve showed up to his trailer, daring him to come with him to beat the heat.

Each rung of the ladder, Eddie’s heart skipped in his chest, and it wasn’t from the height. He was about to jump into the unknown. His feet on the poky board, he took a deep breath, the guitar pic chain around his neck rising and falling with the inhales and exhales. Years of trailer park shenanigans led him to the teetering edge without fear, throwing his body forward into a tumble, flipping twice and splashing into the water, his pale form practically glowing under the water. Eyes burning with the sting of the chlorine, a price swimmers in small local pools have been paying for since the pool managers were every bit of sixteen years old. Steve’s tanned legs kicking delicately to keep himself afloat as Eddie popped up behind him, head breaking the surface as Steve laughs. His breathing evening out at the sight of Steve’s smiling face. Stomach fluttering with anticipation as to what was to come next. Steve’s eyes dance over Eddie’s face, locking on his lips as Eddie pokes his tongue out. Steve leans in, hands still swirling beside him. The warmth of his breath fans Eddie’s lips, warming the droplets of pool water. Lips connecting, eyes shut tight, the noise from Steve’s throat surprised Eddie as the kiss deepened, time non-existent in that moment.

“Told you it wasn’t scary,” Steve said, pulling away, splashing Eddie as he swam away. To date, it was the sweetest kiss Eddie had ever received.

-

“Take a deep breath, you’re scaring me.” Robin tried to gain some ground on the other end of the line.

“W-when! Steve, when—did—it?!” Spluttering through the void, phone pressed tight against his face as he sobs. His lungs feeling as if they would collapse from years of smoking.

Robin stutters on the phone, heart racing as she tries to explain, “it happened fast— they met 7 months ago— someone his dad had set him up with, she works in his office.”

The air from his lungs were frozen with shock, the phone tumbled down to his cotton socks as it fell from his grasp.

-

The summer air was thick and heavy, a blanket of humidity covering all of Hawkins. The back doors of the van were pushed open— a slow swirl of smoke drifting out as Eddie laid his head on Steve’s chest. Two pairs of legs hanging out of the back of the van, bare—shucked from denim shorts and black denim jeans. Boxers slung low on pale hips snuggled with boxer briefs on tanned legs tangled together like a twist cone in the darkness of the night. Lips bruised with kisses, hickies splattered across their necks, two lovers laid together. Drinking in the heavy air, breathing in the scent of one another. Every night since the first kiss in the deep end of the closed Hawkins pool, was spent this way. Eddie couldn’t get enough of Steve, he was beautiful to the perfect American boy standard, his lips tasted like milk and honey, sweet and lustfully warm. He brought out the best in Eddie. Sweet giggles shared between a joint, the flick of a lighter against hummed bated breaths against each others cheeks.

“I could stay like this forever,” Steve whispered into Eddie’s hair, kissing the top of his curls as their hands intertwined together, gaudy rings and calloused hands against smooth long fingers.

Eddie smiled into Steve’s chest, sweat coating his cheek. “Forever huh?”

“Doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” Steve cooed, wrapping a dark brown curl through his fingers, relishing in the softness of Eddie’s hair.

“Not at all.”

-

The next day brings little peace to Eddie’s mind. The pounding behind his eyes matches the rumbling in his stomach. He wakes on the carpet in the living room of his small apartment. The comfort of an empty beer can wedged under his waist, drool cold and thick on the corner of his mouth, a leg up on the couch. Sunshine is seeping through the blinds, a warm caress against the floor. He pushes himself into a kneeling position, the room spins as he stands, holding on to furniture and a thrifted standing light as he slinks to the bathroom. A look in the mirror reveals blood shot eyes and hair more than messily askew. He fell asleep in his work clothes, grease rubbed deep into the stains of the coveralls. Two Tylenol between his teeth and lips under the faucet make for the start of easing away the migraine.

He splashed water on his face, cleaning the sleep from his eyes and the drool from his lips, eyes swollen from crying, lips busted and swollen from sucking down beer after beer. A towel against his face dragging slightly on his five o’clock shadow he starts to feel a little better. A scan of the living room reveals the amount of alcohol he went through. Impressive to a frat house maybe but by himself alone? It was borderlining a problem.

He finds his phone on the floor, a long crack from one corner to another, a hairline imperfections. “Fuck,” he breathes to only himself. Unlocking it revealed something Eddie hadn’t wanted to see ever again. A selfie of him and Steve greets him. A costume party at Nancy’s for Jonathan’s birthday when they both dressed as nuns. The habits were tight around their faces. A secret between them both, sealed with love. He swipes up out of the photos app and opens his text messages. The red circle reading ‘10’ has his heart aching. Please dear god don’t let me have texted him, please. That was the last thing Eddie needed, a drunk text to his ex congratulating him on his pretty wife. But alas, karma kept herself in check, the ten texts aren’t from Steve.

9 from Robin and 1 from Jim reading, “hey man, you still sick?”

A quick reply back to Jim saying that he was indeed still sick and that he’d see him on Monday. The 9 looming texts from Robin still remain. He thumbed over her name and read through the walls of text.

Robin had been the only soul to know about Steve and Eddie’s relationship. Not ready to face the world with judgmental stares and harsh words they vowed to keep it private.

Eddie shoots a text to Robin, “I’m ok, just confused, and a little sad.”

8 months.

They had met and decided to get married in 8 months? The paper didn’t say what date they had actually gotten married but if the picture was in June it would have—- it didn’t matter. The timeline was muddy and confusing, Eddie was wondering if it overlapped.

Last time he had seen Steve was 7 months ago in December when he was home for Christmas break.

Surely this was the workings of Mr. Harrington himself. In all the time spent together Steve and Eddie were careful. Not that either of them were ashamed to be who they truly were but Steve’s parents were old school. Traditional in a sense that they were still members of a country club. Old money and the Harrington name ran through their veins and nestled up a grand spot of being somebody in Hawkins, Indiana. However, they were never home.

-

Eddie stayed at Steve’s place almost every weekend.

The domesticated feeling of having someone around made Steve feel wanted, loved, and safe. A feeling he rarely got from his parents.

They’d spend the weekends watching corny movies from the 80’s, perfecting recipes from Pinterest, and listening to Eddie play his acoustic guitar. Nights were spent in each others arms, rotating who was big or little spoon depending on Eddie’s nightmares. They young, dumb and in love. One particular Sunday morning—that would be branded into the flesh of their brains for eternity— Steve had woken up before Eddie. Eyeing the sizable tent in his boxers he decided to wake him up. Eddie could sleep through a house fire, he was all snores and mouth hung open wide. He didn’t feel the tickle of Steve’s knuckles as they coaxed the fabric down his legs, or the warmth of Steve’s mouth against his hardened length— at least not right away. The pool of saliva in Steve’s mouth as he sucked and twirled, adding his hands as Eddie bottomed out into his throat finally woke him up.

“Oh shit, mmm fuck Steve, thought I was dreaming this,” his dreamy muddy eyes latched onto Steve’s as they held hands while Steve devoured him. Their combined soft moans and the slurping noises had them in their own world, they didn’t hear the front door unlock, or the soft carpeted footsteps up to Steve’s room, or the soft knuckles knocking against the oak door. None of that was heard. Just the baritone yelling of Steve’s dad as he witnessed his son, the golden child, light of his life, suck the trailer park trash out of the Munson disgrace.

Fists were swung in every direction, one connecting to the side of Steve’s temple, knocking him out. Eddie clambered off the bed and stood his ground, begging Steve’s dad to take it easy. A second swing of a fist hooked into Eddie’s left eye. The swelling was immediate. Eddie pushed and shoved Steve’s dad with all his might, earning another munch to his mouth, splitting his bottom lip. Shrieking from Steve’s mother at the sight of the blood on Eddie’s face and her son lying lifeless on the floor caused enough of a distraction for Eddie to lock the bedroom door. He dressed himself quickly, throwing on whatever he could and slipping on his converse. Steve started to stir, groaning and throwing up on the carpet, tears flowing from his eyes.

“Steve!” Eddie cried, “we h-have to get out of here.”

Eddie helped Steve dress and he threw open a window, tossing his small duffel bag down to the ground, another bag for Steve. They climbed out of the window, Steve holding onto Eddie for dear life as they lowered themselves to the ground with the help of the tree branches nestled against the house. Eddie drove them to Robin’s. Steve falling in and out of consciousness as they drove. Eddie was pleading and crying for Steve to stay awake, his vision blurring, eyes not looking at the road. “Open your eyes Steve,” Eddie begs, “please, please stay with me!”

Steve opens his eyes slowly, blinking heavily at the boy frantically trying to stay on the road. Eddie's eye was swollen and huge, purpling marks painting his pale skin. Blood drying on his lips. “We’re almost there, babe.” Eddie says sweetly, “ju—just hold on.”

After cleaning Steve up and deciding he didn’t have a concussion, Eddie held him in his arms on the couch, lightly dozing off as Robin made breakfast. “I love you,” Steve whispered into Eddie’s chest. He didn’t hear Eddie’s reply as he slowly drifted to sleep.

-

A knock on the door to his apartment shook him from the daydream. He didn’t realize he had started crying again, the pain of the past weighing heavy on his features. “Come on Eddie, I won’t stop knocking til you open the door, and I’m sure I could find your building manager and tell him I smell gas so he has to let me in!”

The door swings open to reveal a lanky tall girl, freckles sporting her face in various patterns, her blue eyes gleaming as her smile fades at the sight of Eddie.

“Jesus Munson,” she berates, “you sure you’re alright?”

Their bellies full of McDonald’s breakfast and coffee that Robin had made in the keurig she had gifted Eddie for Christmas but was never opened, Eddie finally speaks, “thanks for this,” he gestures with the greasy McMuffin wrapper snug in his grip and the coffee tight to his lips.

“And uh— I’m sorry about last night— I was— shocked.”

The warmth of Robin’s hand on Eddie’s shoulder is comforting as she rubs gently, “Honestly, I was shocked too. Last I knew, he was excited to see you over Christmas break— I had no idea you weren’t together until a month ago when he called me.”

Eddie let out a large breath feeling his shoulders sag as he picked at his nails, “yeah, well things really changed after he went to college.” A single tear slides down his face, “he was— I’ve never loved, or been loved, by someone like that before, y’ know?” Eddie shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes, his vision clouded with tears and blackness. “I th-thought— God— ” he murmurs, pushing down the sobs, “I thought he loved me.”

-

Eddie made the day special, started off with a matinee and the same treats they had shared all those long months ago. They ordered from Enzo’s and ate under the stars on the top of Eddie’s van, lanterns lighting the plastic forks as they twirled rogue spaghetti noodles into each other's hungry mouths. The conversation was light, talking about the weather and the new tiktoks that were popular that week. He wasn’t sure when, but something had changed with Steve, he was quieter than normal. The light caring attitude he usually wore was now replaced with turned in eyebrows and nodding along to almost everything Eddie had said.

“Okay, what’s going on babe?” Eddie had asked, placing his fork down a little harder than he had expected, “you usually love the garlic bread and you haven’t even touched it.”

Steve’s eyes were turned downward, “nothing Eddie, I’m fine, just not that hungry.”

Eddie almost believed him, “don’t lie to me, Harrington, you forget how well I know you,” he nudged his shoulder with his own, “come on, you can tell me.”

Steve’s eyes spring with tears as he looks into the soft brown of Eddie’s, “I don’t want to leave you.” His shoulders shake as Eddie pulls him close and hugs him tight, his lips on his neck, kissing delicately at the small beauty marks that make up a vast majority of Steve’s skin. He moves his forehead to lean against Steve’s, the smell of spaghetti sauce on his tongue as he kisses him softly, holding his cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be here, every break— every weekend you want to come home— I’ll be right here, forever.” He slips the guitar pic necklace off his head and places it around Steve’s neck. “Can’t get rid of me, that easy lover boy.”

Steve leans in and locks his lips with Eddie’s, tears fell from both of their eyes as their tongues dance together. “Come on, I’ve got one more place to bring you.”

The short drive to the Hawkins pool was filled with sniffles and holding hands, Eddie occasionally bringing Steve’s knuckles to his lips to kiss them each softly. They both get out and jump the fence, stripping down to their underwear and climbing the high dive. Steve dives in first and then Eddie.

“I brought you to all our firsts.” Eddie says proudly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck. “The first time I realized I was attracted to you was at the movie theater, you had Dr. Pepper dripping off your chin. Eddie kisses the same spot the soda had clung on Steve’s chin. And here,” he says, waving his arm around, “was our first kiss, and where I realized I wasn’t afraid to be myself anymore.”

Pain breaks across Steve’s face but he shoves it down for this one last night with Eddie before he moves to college in the morning. He smiles and kisses him. “I love you, Eddie Munson.” Steve purrs into Eddie’s neck.

“And I love you, Steve Harrington.”

-

Eddie had spent the majority of the day looking through old pictures and teaching himself sad songs on his guitar. Writing down his feelings were the only thing that helped ward off the hell of what Steve had put him through. The pen moved feverishly against the scratchy composite notebook he kept. Words flowing through him fluidly like a river against the bedrock. He allowed himself to think of that night. The last time he saw Steve Harrington.

-

The first week Steve was at school, it was almost as if he never left. He FaceTimed Eddie every chance he got, showing him around the campus, all the cool places to eat and his dorm room. Eddie would excitedly gaze through the screen at him, working on a car simultaneously. Jim’s Auto had taken him on and paid for his night classes for a diesel mechanic degree. He was happy for Steve, excited to hear all about the things he was experiencing. The texts from Steve got more and more scarce. Nightly FaceTime calls were few and far between. Eddie knew Steve had made new friends at college and he was happy for him. Happy that Steve was going to make something of himself and prove his dad wrong. But the sick inkling feeling that Steve had moved on all came to a halt when Christmas break arrived and Steve’s maroon BMW was parked in front of Eddie’s apartment complex on the north side of town. He was leaning against his door, a cigarette tucked between his teeth and the light blue denim of his jeans pressed against the door.

“Damn you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie grins, as he reaches out for a hug. Steve hugs him cautiously, a feeling that is not reciprocated back as the bear hug Eddie has him in traps the air in his lungs. “Fuck, I missed you.” Eddie speaks into Steve’s neck. Kissing him feverishly.

Steve slinks away from him and grabs a duffle bag out of his trunk. “You too, Munson.” He says shyly, slinging the bag over his shoulder. A pained smirk upon his face. The toe of his Nikes kicking a small rock as they walked into the building, and up the stairs. The smell of fresh paint in the hallways and salt rock for icy sidewalks fills their noses.

“So I thought,” Eddie said, unlocking his front door and flicking the lights on, “we could order a pizza and maybe rewatch ‘You’ before the new season comes out in February. How does that sound?”

“Yeah man, that sounds great— but I’m only gonna be here for a little bit.” Steve says, eyes casted downward.

The air sharpened in Eddie’s chest as he froze, one hand still on the knob. “What do you mean, you’re only here for a little bit?” A look of concern painted on his face, as his eyebrows knit together. “Wh-what’s going on Steve?”

Steve adjusts his weight, hands on his hips as his eyes bore holes into the carpet, “listen man, I don’t want to make this harder than it already is.”

Eddies breath quickens, furious tears splash from his lashes, “I fucking knew it,” he spits, wiping a ringed hand down his face, “ya know what?” he says angrily, opening the door and holding it wide open, “just go, I don’t need a sorry fucking excuse about why you can’t do this anymore or how hard long distance is.”

“Eddie..” Steve tries.

“Get the fuck out.”

Steve steps around Eddie and leaves silently. Eddie doesn’t hear the sobs from Steve’s car as he drives away. The duffle bag full of Eddie’s belongings, including the guitar pic necklace, still sitting by the door.

-

Not wanting to let the boys down, Eddie goes along with the gig on Saturday. Corroded Coffin worked their way from Tuesday nights at the Hideout to Saturday nights, the bar was sticky hot and packed full of co eds home for summer break and trying to let loose. Gareth was a senior now while Jeff and Barry graduated with Eddie. Still doing covers but now venturing into turning pop hits into metal ballads, Corroded Coffin had become a regular house name, even booking gigs during the week out town.

Dustin had begged Steve to bring him to the bar, claiming the bartender wouldn’t card him if Steve was with him. Steve agreed, knowing that Eddie’s band only played on Tuesday nights. He hadn’t talked to him since that cold December night. In fact his entire life had changed. He finished his first semester of college and started working for his dad over the summerI, and that’s where he met you. His dad had been bothering him about the cute receptionist at work for months. Basically ever since he got to school. When he came home for one weekend weeks before Halloween, he had met you. You were pretty no doubt, a beautiful smile and witty humor, laying your charm heavily on the boss’ son in hopes to swoon him. And normally— any other boy would have jumped at the chance, following you around like a puppy dog.

But you weren’t Eddie.

That night at the country club with one too many rounds of scotch between Steve and his dad, Mr. Harrington promised Steve the world and more, taking over the family business, a personal jet to fly him wherever he wanted, all Steve had to do was agree to date the receptionist. Steve jumped at the chance to embarrass his father, he couldn’t wait to tell Eddie about it, how rich they would be, the trips they could go on, the house they could buy. But Steve never got that chance.

The bar was dim lit and stench filled. It smelled exactly like he had remembered. Remembering it was almost an entire year since he had last set foot here. The way Eddie’s bangs clung to his forehead as he sang to Metallica’s “Wherever I May Roam”. The muscles in his arm worked overtime as he strummed along with his guitar. God Steve had loved him.

“Two, no three Bud Lights please!” Dustin said as he sauntered over to the bar, head held high and a bravado to his voice. “Sorry, did you guys want something?” He grinned, all squinty and toothy— finally— his curls bouncing under his ball cap.

“Captain and Coke for me,” Steve began, “and Coke for the lady,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Thought I’d surprise you, I wasn’t sure if he told you or not!” Dustin gushed, one beer already have gone, suds spilled on his lips.

Steve’s brows furrowed, “who told me what Dustin?”

“Hey everyone thanks for coming out, I’m Eddie, and we are Corroded Coffin!”

Steve’s blood ran cold. His breath hitched into his chest as he watched an excited Dustin raise three beers into the air and yell along with the crowd. “This is great isn’t it!?” He yelled as Eddie’s guitar shredded to life, Gareth hot on the drums as “For Whom The Bell Tolls” blared through the small bar.

“Babe,” you said into Steve’s ear, “you know this band?” Your smile could melt the polar ice caps. Sweet, endearing and your sparkling eyes were glistening.

Tongue stuck to his cheek Steve fumbled over his words, “y-yeah, they were uh— big in our school.” Steve explains hurriedly.

“You’re forgetting your best friend is the lead singer!” Dustin’s says guzzling down more beer and banging his head to the beat.

“Best friend?” You ask Dustin, “I thought we met all of your friends earlier, Steve?”

“Haven’t seen each other in awhile— kinda drifted apart.” Steve faltered. Eyes glued to the lead singer as Dustin pulled you and Steve closer to the front of the stage.

Eddie looked exactly the same, months apart did him well, he looked stronger, the muscles in his arms bigger, his hair longer and healthier. Tattoos riddled his arms. Steve was mesmerized. Entranced by his beauty. It took six songs for Eddie to finally see Steve. And when he did he shook his head and punched his tongue practically through his cheek. “Thank you, this next one goes out to all the people who have ever gotten their shit rocked by a breakup.”

Adele’s lyrics cut deeper than any kitchen knife could puncture.

“I heard that you've settled down and that you found a girl and you’re married now.”

Steve’s stomach dropped, he knew this was meant for him to hear. Eddie’s eyes never wavered from Steve’s as he sang. The hurt of a year's worth of memories stretching from his chocolate eyes across the bar to Steve’s honeyed green ones. The memories of Eddie curled into Steve’s side as they slept in his bed, the way Eddie’s hair looked in the morning after Steve convinced him to put rollers in it. The way Eddie danced in the kitchen after making mac n cheese. His lips, the way they curved around his neck and his hands in his hair. Every emotion, every memory all at once, hit Steve like a freight train.

“I love Adele,” you said into Steve’s shoulder as watched Dustin wipe tears with the back of his hand, six beers deep and he was in rough shape.

“G-gotta pee,” Steve stuttered, squeezing your hand and walking to the bathrooms. Eddie sang the rest of the song and announced they were taking a quick break. Pushing his way to the bathrooms where Steve stood, hovering over the sink tears pouring from his eyes.

“Old friend, why do you look so shy?” Eddie hissed. “What’s the matter big boy, didn’t like the song?” Venom in his voice as his words stung into Steve’s heart.

“I didn’t know you were playing tonight otherwise I wouldn’t have came.” Steve blubbered, “Dustin wanted to surprise me.” He said, wiping his eyes with his shirt. The shine of a ring on his left hand made Eddie’s gut twist.

“Well I’m glad you weren’t the only one surprised this week.” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest, “please tell me this is a sick fucking joke— first I see about in the goddamn Hawkins post and the next day you both show up to see Corroded Coffin?! Real fuckin low Steve, even for you.” Eddie makes to leave but Steve crosses the dirty bathroom floor and follows him out. Where he runs right into you.

“Oh there you are,” you smile widely at Steve, “oh honey, are you sick?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and tries to leave, “I’m y/n, by the way, it’s so nice to meet more of Steve’s friends!” Eddie spins on his heel and faces you.

“Eddie,” he says holding out a hand and smiling a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, he looks down and that’s when he notices.

You’re pregnant.

“Hope we’ll see you at the baby shower tomorrow,” you exclaimed, “excuse me, gotta dash to the ladies.” You step around the wide eyed metal head opening the ladies bathroom door and shutting it.

Fresh tears swell in Eddie’s eyes as his lip quivers. He looks to the ceiling and swallows roughly, choking back a sob. “Well isn’t that nice?” he rasps, tears threatening to spill over. Pushing past Steve he walks out the back door to his van, kicking the tires and throwing himself down on the ground, his back leaned against the front tire as Steve makes his way out of the back door.

Steve approached with caution, breath tight in his chest, “Can we talk, please? Like adults? Eddie, I didn't want to hurt you!” He begged.

“Didn’t want to? Or didn’t care about hurting me?” Because the Steve Harrington I know wa—wasn’t, oh who gives a fuck anyway?”

“Eddie please! Jesus Christ I’m trying to explain what happened!”

“What happened is that you are married!” Eddie mourned, tears flowing steady now, “To a woman, and she’s having your baby— and by the looks of it she’s pretty fucking far along! Seven? Eight months?”

Steve’s arms are crossed and he’s crying as he nods, brown tufts of hair glistening in the setting sun, “why do you think I came to visit you over Christmas break? I was trying to tell you then, but you kicked me out!”

Eddie’s head is in his hands as he shakes his head.

“It didn’t— goddamnit, we were drunk, we had gone on a date and we got hammered, the next thing I knew I was balls deep and coming inside of her. She wouldn’t get the morning after pill, and she works for my dad, which is how I’m in this mess to begin with. H—He told me that if I were to date her that he’d give me the business, jets, cars, anything I’d wanted, don’t you see Eddie!?” Steve lowered himself down to his level and put his hands on his knees, “I did it for us!” Steve’s eyes are pleading with Eddie’s as he looks at the moss colored eyes. “We can be free.”

Eddie peels his head away from hands, a look of shock on his face, “You’re fucking joking right? You got a girl knocked up, married her all because your dad promised you a fucking jet?” His eyes were red and angry as he pushed himself up. His tongue pressed to his cheek and his fists balled tight. “Go back to your wife, Steve.”

“Eddie, wait.”

“Get. The fuck. Away from me.” Eddie says, pushing Steve hard in the chest with every word. “You traded what we had for the promise of money, and rich bullshit. I never wanted any of that! I only wanted you!” Eddie lands one last shove into Steve, sending him to the ground, he wincing at the pain from the concrete, “You made your bed, now lie in it.” Eddie spat at Steve’s body laying on the ground and stomped back inside, the sound of his boots echoing against the brick building.

Years have gone by and the two lovers never crossed paths again. Eddie had heard through Robin and Dustin that Steve and his wife had four or five kids, he couldn’t remember. He took over his dads business and resided on the golf course in Hawkins, trophy wife and beautiful kids in tow living their life of luxury. Eddie and Corroded Coffin toured around America, even a short stint in Europe. No matter how many women he buried himself in, the staggering amount of mind altering drugs he consumed on an hourly basis— the pick necklace still hung around his neck as a reminder of the year under the stars with Steve Harrington.