#and eddie will laugh and lean against him and just let the moment wash over him as well as the clean room joy

[flowercrowngods]

hhh not the urge to write an eddie pov companion piece (and continuation) to the yearning hours hidden track

#steddie #the image of eddie and wayne sitting on the floor of eddie’s freshly cleaned and rearranged room #illuminated by the fairy lights and some dire straits tape playing bc eddie loves wayne’s music #and wayne will make a comment of ‘you made the mistake of sitting down when the hall is still littered with your stuff boy. that better #be gone in the morning.‘ #and eddie will laugh and lean against him and just let the moment wash over him as well as the clean room joy #and then wayne leaves and eddie calls steve about it before he realises. and then he has the oh moment #bc he wants to *tell steve*!! and steve wants to listen!! and finally that vulnerability between them shifts and ugh #idk i’m just vibing with these boys and with the fact that i’ve got my words back 🥹 i’ve got my floaty back #and i’ll make it everyone’s problem HAH!

[steddiealltheway]

Steve looks around his living room filled with all the people he loves dearly and can’t help but think that they not only fill his empty house but also the empty hole in his heart.

Yet, something is slightly missing.

He shrugs off the thought and walks to the kitchen raising his voice to ask, “Does anyone want anything to drink?”

A few kids ask for Cokes, but Steve makes sure to grab more than they ask for, sure that someone will complain about not hearing him ask.

He balances the cans in his arms and makes his way back to the living room.

He freezes as he rounds the corner and takes in the image of Eddie and Jonathan huddled together on the couch. He gets the strange sensation of deja vu, recalling the night he saw Jonathan in Nancy’s room, comforting her while she and Steve were still together.

He lets the familiar shame wash over him as he recalls what he did after he saw them, lashing out in jealousy and anger with a can of red spray paint.

He shakes his head and tries to focus on the present. Once again, he takes in the sight of Eddie and Jonathan together and thinks, I won’t let Jonathan take him too.

The thought has his stumbling back a bit which catches Eddie’s eye as he looks up at Steve. A look of concern crosses over his face before he says something to Jonathan and gets up quickly, making his way to Steve.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, taking half the cans out of Steve’s arms.

Steve looks at him hopelessly lost in the way his heart is beating faster, his eyes seem to be glued to Eddie’s lips, and he wants more than anything to kiss him.

“Steve.”

Steve glances up to Eddie’s eyes. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks again, eyebrows raising in concern.

Steve’s eyes flick down to Eddie’s lips again. “I think I…” he hesitates then says, “I need Robin.” He walks away quickly, scattering the cans on his coffee table before walking to where Robin sits with Nancy and yanks her by the hand.

“Hey- Steve?” Robin asks as Steve drags her to the hall bathroom. “What are you-”

Steve closes the bathroom door behind them and sits on the ground, back pressed against the door. Robin slowly sits in front of him with her legs crossed.

“I like Eddie,” Steve blurts out.

Robin shifts. “Yeah, you’ve made it pretty clear that you two are friends.”

Steve runs a hand over his face and sighs. “No, I mean that I like Eddie.”

Robin stares at him for a few moments before gasping, “Oh. Holy shit!”

“Yeah, holy shit,” Steve echoes. It’s a day full of deja vu.

“Is it my turn to make fun of your taste in men?”

Steve laughs, feeling tears start to flood his eyes in relief, fear, confusion, acceptance, and so many other emotions he can’t begin to describe. Robin laughs with him, scooting until she sits next to him, leaning against the door. Steve rests his head on her shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Steve groans and buried his face in her neck. “Hope that the ground opens up and the Upside Down takes me back.”

Robin scoffs. “You’re not allowed to joke about that.”

“And you are?”

“That’s different.”

Steve shoves her shoulder. “You say that joke almost every day.”

“And that’s why you’re not allowed to joke about it. You’re stealing my jokes.”

“You steal mine,” Steve groans.

Robin laughs. “Okay, maybe I do, but I think we have more important things to talk about.”

Steve leans his head back against the door. “Yeah, we do,” he agrees.

They sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of where to go from there.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“You two okay in there?” Eddie gently asks on the other side of the door.

Steve puts his head in his hands. He doesn't know what to do.

"We're alright! Just give us a few minutes," Robin yells in response.

As the sound of footsteps retreating slowly fades, Steve breathes out, "Thanks."

Robin nods and stands up, offering her hands out to Steve. "Up."

Steve huffs but takes her hands, letting her pull him to his feet. She turns him to the mirror and Steve takes in his appearance. He looks the same as before but somehow feels entirely different.

"Now, give yourself a pep talk the same way you made me when I realized I had feelings for Nancy."

"Robin-"

"Do it."

Steve sighs and looks at himself. "You're cool. You're funny. You're hot. And you will not freak out or panic the next time you see your crush."

He glances at Robin who stares at him while trying not to laugh. Steve sighs, "You're right. It really is a dumb pep talk."

"Thank you for finally admitting it, but do you feel better?"

"A bit," Steve says. Maybe he can handle being in the same room as Eddie.

"Ready to step back into the world?"

"Not at all," Steve says, swinging the door open.

Robin pats him on the back as she leaves the bathroom. "Good luck," she whispers as she walks back to Nancy.

Steve takes a deep breath and is thankful to find that no one is staring at him too much as he makes his way back into the living room. But then he sees Eddie laughing loudly at something Jonathan says, and he absolutely disregards the pep talk.

He is absolutely, one hundred percent, panicking and freaking out.

“Eddie!” Steve says louder than intended, causing the whole room to go silent and everyone to turn and stare at him. Steve apologetically nods at everyone and puts his hands on his hips. He looks at Eddie and asks, “Can I talk to you?”

Eddie slowly nods and gets up to follow him. Everyone watches, but Steve carefully avoids Robin’s look, knowing she’s either entirely horrified in disbelief or being way over-supportive.

As he makes his way back to the same bathroom, he hears everyone begin to talk again which fills him with relief.

Eddie follows him into the bathroom and puts his hands in his pockets, looking entirely uncertain and guilty. “What did I do?”

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all really. I’m just…” he trails off and stares at him. Okay, maybe trapping Eddie in a small bathroom with him wasn’t his great idea. Half of him feels bad for making Eddie probably feel trapped, and the other half is chanting kiss him, kiss him, kiss him…

“Steve.”

Steve breaks out of his thoughts quickly and blurts out, “Do you like Jonathan?”

Eddie’s jaw drops, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth before slowly dropping it to his hip and raising his eyebrows. He’s not backing down from this.

“No,” Eddie answers. He crosses his arms. “Would it be a problem if I did?”

“Yes,” Steve says without thinking. But when Eddie’s eyes widen in fear, he’s quick to say, “No! No! It wouldn’t be a problem if you liked men. It would be a problem if you liked Jonathan.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and lets out a deep breath. “Okay, that also came out wrong. What I’m trying to say is… you should like me- no. Actually. You shouldn’t be forced to like me or be told to-”

“Steve.”

Steve nods again. He needs to get back on track. "I like you." Shit, maybe that's a little too much on track, but there's no taking it back now.

Eddie stares at him in disbelief.

"Romantically," Steve clarifies.

Eddie turns to sit on the toilet lid while he stares up at Steve. He takes a deep breath and asks, "Do you know why I've been huddled with Jonathan today?"

Steve shakes his head. Please, don't let this be another rejection.

"Because Will noticed the way I look at you. He told me his brother has always been supportive, so if I ever needed someone to talk to about my crush, I could go to him."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Eddie stands up and steps forward. "I've been complaining to Jonathan all day about my damn crush on you because I never thought you would like me back."

"Oh," Steve replies, unsure of what else to say.

"Yeah, oh," Eddie says and narrows his eyes. "Shit, are you messing with me?"

"No!" Steve says quickly, "No, I just really want to kiss you."

Eddie nods and bounces a bit on his feet. "Okay."

"Okay?" Steve asks, taking a step closer.

"Okay," Eddie says, moving forward quickly to gently kiss him.

"Finally!" a voice shouts on the other side of the door, causing Steve and Eddie to jump back.

Steve pinches his nose before storming to the door where he can hear several people on the other side shushing someone who is most likely Dustin. He yanks it open and finds everyone standing on the other side, guiltily looking at him.

"Don't give us that look, we've been waiting for you to realize for weeks!" Dustin yells.

Steve crosses his arms. "What do you mean 'weeks'? I literally found out today."

"It's been kind of obvious," Max says with a shrug.

Steve's jaw drops.

"I have to agree," Nancy chimes in. Which is totally uncool of her.

"Wait, you've all known for weeks, but I, Steve's best friend, had no clue along with him?"

Nancy looks at Robin. "Says the one who had no clue that I liked you after I dropped hints for days. You're terrible at reading when people have crushes, sweetheart."

Robin flushes red and groans.

Eddie steps up behind Steve and wraps an arm around his waist. "And when did you guys figure out my crush on Steve?"

"When you first met honestly, you're not subtle," Max says. Everyone chimes in to agree.

"And you were going to fill in neither of us?" Steve asks.

"You would've both denied it, plus it was more fun this way," Dustin replies. Steve gives him a look, and he holds up his hands. "Sorry."

Steve turns to Eddie. "Who should we fight first?"

"Dustin," Eddie states, voicing Steve's exact thoughts.

"Agreed," Steve says before taking off after Dustin.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Dustin yells as he sprints down the hall and out the front door.

It only takes a few seconds before Steve and Eddie are able to corner Dustin each of them pulling the terrified kid into a quick hug.

"Are you two going to be insufferable from now on?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

"Absolutely," Steve and Eddie both say.

And Steve intends to fulfill that promise forever.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi hi I hope you are doing amazing 💕💕

All I have been thinking about is Eddie doing his "nightly routine" with reader

I hope you enjoy this little fluffy blurb 🩷

Words: 1k

Eddie tries not to show exactly how excited he is that you’re spending the night for the first time. You’re excited as well, but Eddie is doing his best to keep it cool. The thought of falling asleep and waking up next to you has kept a permanent smile on his face the whole day. But when the two of you start to get ready for bed, Eddie finds something else he enjoys about having you in his home. 

Blue toothbrush in hand, Eddie squeezes out the white minty paste from the tube. As you slip into the bathroom behind him, his eyes dart up to the mirror to watch you make your way to the other side of his body. One of your hands holds the bristles of your purple toothbrush under the water as the other waits palm up, patiently waiting for your boyfriend to hand over the Crest. 

The two of you brush your teeth side by side and it has Eddie grinning around his brush. There’s nothing romantic or particularly special about the moment, but it’s so domestic. Just the two of you, silent except for the scrubbing of your teeth. Eddie’s suddenly sure this is how he wants to brush for the rest of his life. 

He leans in towards the sink to spit out the mouthful of suds, and with your free hand you hold some of his curls back, so they don’t get caught in the way. After Eddie’s rinsed and spit, it’s your turn. The cheeky man takes advantage of you slightly bending at the waist to playfully slap your ass. A shriek squeaks out of you and the purple toothbrush falls from your hand and lands in the sink with a clatter. A low rumble of laughter reverberates behind you while you rinse your mouth out. Standing up, you spin to face him with a playful glare.

“That’s not fair,” you say.

“And why’s that?” Eddie asks.

“Because,” you answer, yanking the hand towel from the rack behind him, “I didn’t get to touch your ass.”

Eddie holds his hands up and turns so his back is towards you. “Touch away, gorgeous.”

“I need both hands to wash my face; gimme a second.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums and leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms over his chest as he watches you pop the cap of your face wash. The way your facial expressions change as you rub the foamy cleanser into your skin has him grinning. Every time he thinks you can’t get any cuter, you prove him wrong. His adoring gaze never leaves you as you rinse your face and pat it dry with the towel. You hang the towel back up and turn to face him.

“Okay,” you say with a deep breath. “I’m ready for your ass.”

Eddie laughs and flicks the bathroom light off before slowly walking backwards into the hallway.

“Come and get me then,” he goads. There’s no hesitation as you lunge at him and chase him down the hall, into his bedroom. Both of you laugh as he stops short and you collide with his back, but steady yourself by wrapping your arms around his middle and letting him anchor you. 

“Baaabe,” Eddie mock whines, “I gotta get dressed for bed.”

“Oh please,” you scoff. “We both know all you wear to bed is your boxers. So, strip for me, handsome.”

“Can’t. Breathe,” Eddie gasps as you slightly tighten your arms around him.

“So dramatic.” You press a kiss to the back of his shoulder before letting go. 

Eddie whips his t-shirt off and tosses it in the general direction of his hamper. The black jeans are the next to go and you manage to give his ass a good squeeze before he plops himself down on his bed. 

“First one’s free. Second one will cost you.” Eddie lounges back on the bed and laces his fingers behind his head. 

“What’s the price to grab my boyfriend’s ass again?” 

“Now I want a strip show,” he says, smirk settled on his lips. 

Rolling your eyes at the fact that he hardly gave you a show at all, you acquiesce and rock your hips back and forth as you slip off your shirt. Eddie’s eyebrows raise as the smile grows on his face. Next, come your jeans and when you slip your bra off, he’s practically drooling. 

“Does that earn me the right to touch that sexy butt of yours now?” you ask.

“Baby, you know you can touch me anywhere at any time.” Eddie throws you a wink and you blow him a kiss before walking over and pulling one of his t-shirts out of a drawer. You shrug on the Megadeth tee on your way to the bed. Large, calloused hands grip your hips once you’re close enough, and he pulls your body down on top of his. 

“Hi,” you murmur as you look up at him. 

“Hi.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. The mango scent of your face wash and the mint of the toothpaste flood his senses as he holds you even closer. “I like having you here with me.”

“Me too.” 

Scooting off of Eddie’s body, you lay down next to him and cuddle up to his side. With an over-dramatic groan, he reaches over and clicks off the lamp. Relaxing back against you, Eddie tugs the blankets over you both. Your eyes drift closed, and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Tired?” he whispers.

“A little. Mostly just comfortable. Love when you hold me.”

Eddie’s thumb and forefinger tilt your chin up so he can press his lips against yours. 

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“You tired?” 

“Kinda,” he says.

“Too tired to have a little fun?” Even in the dim lighting Eddie can see the suggestive smirk on your lips.

He chuckles and slips his hands up beneath the sides of your shirt.

“Never too tired for that, baby.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request

[eds6ngel]

self care night ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

eddie munson x gn!reader

summary: you notice eddie's skin is a little neglected, so you give him a pamper!

warnings: gn!reader. pet names (sweets, sweetheart, angel). established relationship. swearing. no use of y/n. tooth-rotting fluff. mentions of eddie's tough school life. alcohol mentions. weed mentions. talks on legalising weed (bc i am passionate about it). love bombs bc eddie is a sweetheart. lots of kisses [2.4k].

“Eds, stay still!”

You currently had his head bent over the bathtub, massaging in the leave-in conditioner, giving your boyfriend the well-earned hair treatment he needed. But, the longer you pamper him, the more you come to realise why he’d never gotten this treatment in the past.

“My knees are uncomfy,” he whines, the only words leaving his mouth for the past fifteen minutes being constant complaints.

“I’m almost done honey, okay? It’s easier to get to your roots from this angle.”

After a few more minutes of massaging, you place a kiss on his cheek, “Okay, all done now.”

He groans, mumbling, “Thank God for that,” as he stands up, flicking his hair backwards so it lay correctly on his head. You turn your head to the side, hands behind your back as you give him a warm smile, looking like a lost puppy. Eddie furrows his eyebrows, smiling himself as he chuckles, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you cheerily reply, “You just look cute with your hair messy,” placing a quick kiss on his nose and grabbing his hand, dragging him back into the bedroom. You plop him down on his bed, him letting out an exaggerated “Oof!” as you grab the comb on his dresser.

Eddie notices how the handle appears much more shiny that the other times he had used it, the teeth rid of the clumps of curls. “Looks rather clean.”

You sit behind him on his bed, beginning to tackle the knots, them a lot more easier to comb through with the leave-in conditioner massaged into his scalp. “Mhm,” you hum in response, “Poor thing was covered in hair. Needed its own pamper.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong sweetheart. Just like me, the comb and I are extremely against pampering. We’d rather stay messy and gross.”

You scrunch up your nose, although he can’t see it, “Thought you were meant to be defying the stereotypes baby? Isn’t being messy adding to the ‘Trailer Trash’ label?”

You pat him on the shoulder, him knowing from routine that was a signal for him to turn around. He faces you, holding up a finger in detest, “Nope! I own my labels angel! So, if anything, I should conform to it.”

“Hmm,” you hum, “Pretty with your hair washed though…”

You purse your lips at him, to which he copies, squinting his eyes as you do the same. You had these little moments where you simply made faces at each other. It wasn’t mocking or insulting in any way, it was more endearing than anything. It was little moments like these that you loved oh so much.

Eddie lunges forward, grabbing your left cheek and littering kisses all up the right side of your face. You scream at the random gesture, although used to it. “Eddie!”

However, what he does next is the real annoyer. He leans back, shaking his head like a wet dog, your neat combing job now even messier than before. He knows what he did, giving you a toothy grin as you purse your lips, trying not to laugh at him. You sigh, shaking your head, “I hate you.”

He lets out the biggest gasp, putting a hand to his heart, “Hate me? I thought we had a love that would last forever.”

The giggle escapes your mouth as you reply, “You’re such a dork,” him leaning forward once again and mumbling, “I know,” lifting your chin up with his index finger, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

“Are you gonna sit still for me now?” you ask, smiling brightly as he playfully rolls his eyes, “Yes, my liege.”

You quirk an eyebrow up, combing through the curls that frame his face, “I’m your liege now, huh?”

“Always have been. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he softly speaks, you mumbling out, “Sap,” in response. He wraps his arms around your waist, putting his head down in the crook of your shoulder so you can tackle the back of his head. He places a soft kiss there, whispering, “And proud.”

The rest of your combing job is spent in silence, the two of you basking in the simple domesticity. You loved it when Eddie went all out, taking you to the drive-in movie theatre, blasting out songs in his van at 3am, but something about this was special. It was mundane, but loving. That’s what a relationship is all about, right?”

“Okay,” you say, tackling the last knot situated at the bottom of his hair, “And we’re done.” However, Eddie doesn’t move, still laying against your shoulder. You move his damp hair, placing a few kisses behind his ear, whispering, “You okay there, baby?”

He kisses your neck in response, humming and mumbling, “Yeah… Just love you.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, even though he had said it a thousand times before. It was just something about him. You were proud to call him yours.

“I love you too. Need to get on with the face mask though. S’getting late.”

He groans, lifting himself up, taking an overdramatic deep breath as he opens his eyes, beautiful brown orbs, the colour of a small square of chocolate, staring back at you. His hair is now neatly styled, laying more flat on his head than usual, the curls not as bouncy as they once were. Less Kirk Hammett, like he aspires to be, and more Eddie Van Halen.

You get up off the bed, grabbing the green face mask and brush from your bag, the little luggage you brought with you for your night over laying on the floor by one of his many guitar amps.

You cross your legs, getting comfy in front of him as you screw off the lid. You place it to the side, whispering, “Close your eyes,” as you push his hair back with your white headband, the fluffy accessory sitting neatly atop his head. You attend to the face mask, dipping in the brush, the white bristles being overcoated with a sage green colour.

You swipe the liquid across his face, covering all of his pores and zits. You repeat your action: dip, brush, dip, brush, dip, brush. Eddie hums in content, “Smells nice. What’s in it?”

“It’s tea tree bubba. Helps clear up your pores. S’good for acne.”

You swipe once more across his forehead, leaning back and examining your work. You smile at him, soft eyes gazing into his soul as he admires your pureness, “Okay, all done. Now we have to wait ten minutes for it to dry.”

You screw the lid back on, heading to the bathroom to clean the brush. Meanwhile, Eddie has already picked up his acoustic guitar, strumming down the strings to make sure it was in tune.

You lean down to place your skincare belongings back in your bag, asking him, “Been working on anything sweets?”

“Just a ‘lil somethin’…” he replies, clipping the capo onto the second fret, “Still working on it though.”

You lie down on your front, heading leaning against the soft sheets as you legs swing back and forth. “Sure it sounds great.”

He plays you his tune, a more softer sound to what he normally forms, reminding you of ‘Fade to Black,’ a song which Eddie introduced you to. You simply lay there, basking in the way that his fingers pluck at the strings, his left hand moving up and down the fret board in a smooth motion. You loved how dedicated he was to his music, to the band. He even talked to you about pursing it full-time after high school, something you were very supportive of. You loved how passionate he was about it all.

He breathes out, “That’s what I’ve got so far… What do you think?”

You smile at him, “You know I always love what you create Eds. The real question is: do you think it sounds good?”

He drums his fingers against the underside of the guitar, “That’s what I can’t figure out sweets, I like the key, but the fingerpicking sounds off.”

“So it’s not a chord problem?”

He shakes his head, mumbling, “No… I don’t think so anyway.”

“Hmm…” you wonder, trying to think of suggestions with your limited musical knowledge, “How about this?” You hum him a tune, taking different turns that the ones his fingers took, him beginning to copy your humming on his guitar.

Once you stop, he picks up, playing the tune you had created. He puts his fingers over the fret, stopping his movements. He huffs, a slight frustration laced in his tone, “How are you better than me? I should’ve been the one to figure that out…”

He wasn’t jealous of you by any means, not at all. No, he was just annoyed in himself. Your boyfriend was very self-critical, no matter how much he tried to hide it behind the facade of owning his labels. He may have been comfortable in his freak identity, but he never overcame the self-doubt of being less smart than other people.

You maneuver yourself so you are sitting up to face him. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks and saying, “Sometimes you just need a little push. It’s okay to ask for help, you know.”

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing out, “I know, it’s just… Apart from Wayne, you’re one of the first people to ever actually help me. You know how the teachers are… I’m not a third time super-senior for nothin’…”

“S’because I care about you and the teachers don’t. You’re smarter than they think. Don’t ever think otherwise, m’kay?”

He purses his lips, pausing a little before eventually nodding. You tap his nose, looking at your index finger to see it come off clean. “It’s dry now,” you say with a smile, pecking his lips. “Sit on the bed for me. Let me bring in a pot of water. No need for you to move.”

He has no time to answer, your request practically a soft demand as he lays his guitar back down gently, shifting himself from the chair over to the bed.

You return with water in a small, grey pot, a similar-coloured flannel to support as you delicately place it on Eddie’s bed, careful not to spill any on his sheets. Although, you’d seen his mattress, it was ruined anyway from various different things, some you don’t even want to think about.

You soak the flannel in the water, letting it absorb the warmth before wringing it out, telling Eddie, “Close your eyes please.”

He follows your request, eyelids fluttering closed as you press the damp flannel to his skin, caringly wiping away the dried, green face mask. You hum once it’s all off, running back to the bathroom to tip away the water, Eddie barely getting chance to recognise your departure as he sees you shifting through your bag again.

Eddie blinks rapidly as you brings over many different bottles and tubs of products. “I need all of this?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “I use all of these every night.”

“Seems like a lot of fuss.”

You shrug, “Suppose. But, it makes my skin smooth, so I’m not complaining.”

You take the cap off of the first product, “Okay, this is a toner. It gets rid of any last dirt you may have on your face.” You spritz it over, fanning it so it settles on his pale skin. “Also, it makes you stay younger for longer. But… you know me. I say embrace aging, you know?”

“I know you do,” he says, “Because you see beauty in everyone, and I love that about you.”

“Can’t help that humans are beautiful,” you giggle, Eddie’s heart melting at your words. You were just so pure.

“Okay, this is an eye cream. You apply it with your ring finger,” you demonstrate, scooping some of the cream up, “Prevents dryness. Makes your skin smooth.”

Eddie closes his eyes as you gently pat it under his eyes, rubbing it across as it absorbs into his skin.

You smile widely, “You look glowy already. Okay, night serum! This helps with your blemishes, calms them down a little.” You press the top of the pipette, letting the liquid flow down his cheeks, placing more on his forehead and chin. Using the ends of your fingers, you delicately massage it into his skin.

Eddie taps his own skin, grimacing, “Feels sticky.”

“Because you haven’t let it fully absorb yet!” you laugh, “Just one more thing. And I’m sure you’re gonna love it a lot.”

You reach behind you, dramatically holding the pot of cream in front of him. He takes it out of his hands, reading the label, “Weed cream?”

“Pretty much,” you giggle, “They label it ‘Hemp Cream,’ but we all know it comes from the same plant. So yes… weed cream.”

“Fuckin’ knew weed was good for you. The government sitting there telling everyone it’s bad for you, and they’re shoving it into skincare products.”

You scoop the cream up onto your fingers, rubbing it into Eddie’s skin as you explain, “They allow this because it’s non-psychoactive. Although, I have seen THC oil kicking around Hawkins stores for a long time. Stupid regulations.”

“Exactly sweetheart. Only allow it when it’s used by the conforming population…”

“Like alcohol,” you reply, Eddie nodding along with you. You’d had many conversations about how weed and alcohol had the same short-term and long-term effects, even arguing that weed had less of the two. The only difference you concluded was that everyone ‘normal’ consumed alcohol. Funny that the main group that smoked weed were Mexicans. You and Eddie knew they were hiding their racism.

“Okay, and… we are done!” you smile brightly, screwing the lid back on your pot of cream, “Go over to the mirror baby. Judge my craft.”

Eddie heads over to the mirror as you place your skincare items neatly back in your overnight bag. You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “How did I do?”

“Amazing, thank you,” he replies sweetly, lifting your hand up and giving it a tender kiss.

“S’getting late,” you remind him with a yawn, “Have school tomorrow.”

“Indeed we do. You ready to head to bed?”

You hum, getting into Eddie’s bed, snuggling under the silken sheets as he flicks off his bedroom light. Although you don’t see him, you feel the bed dip under his weight, his arm draping over your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “G’night.”

“Night baby.”

And as the two of you fall asleep, you drift off knowing both of your skins were well-cleansed and softly pampered. The perfect way to end a night.

hope you enjoyed! ♡

eddie masterlist.

#eds6ngel #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #stranger things

[finntheehumaneater]

i owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 8)

(Part one) (part nine)

pinboard | playlist | ao3 (consider leaving a comment if you read it on ao3 because they make me happy :D)

(Notes and taglist under the cut)

Eddie stayed in his room for most of the day, silent and curled up on his bed, until Wayne made him come out and help with dinner. And even then, he was still quiet, which he could tell was making his uncle worry.

“Eds?”

“Hm?” Eddie hummed back, trying for a smile, but it looked strained and broken and wobbly, a few tears falling down his face that he wiped away quickly, clearing his throat.

“Your boy gone?” Wayne asked quietly, and Eddie laughed wetly, his voice catching.

“He’s not my boy, Wayne,” He looked back down into the sink, at the lettuce he was supposed to be washing in his hands. “And yeah. He’s gone.”

“You tell him to go?”

Eddie shrugged. “Didn’t have to.” He placed the lettuce down on the towel and dried it off for a moment, before sucking in a shuddering breath and leaning against the counter. “I don’t think I want to eat tonight.”

Wayne sighed—like he was used to this, because he was. He nodded and moved Eddie over gently to finish up with the lettuce. Eddie frowned, opening his mouth to protest, because he could still help, but Wayne pushed him back with a flat hand to his chest, looking him over.

“Go on a walk. Clear your mind. Take your music with you or something. Then go talk to Steve. I know you two fought.”

“I—“

“No, I’m right. And I don’t know how it started or who’s fault it was, but you need to work this out,” Wayne says sternly, his hand clamped over Eddie’s shoulder. “Because despite what you think, he’s a good kid, and I care about that boy an awful lot, now that I’ve gotten to know him. And I don’t want to see him or you get hurt. You hear me?”

Eddie nodded, choking out a quiet sob and squeezing his eyes shut. Wayne pulled him into a hug for a moment, before patting Eddie’s shoulder and sighing. “You’re a good kid, too. A little stupid at times, but a good kid.”

Eddie laughed wetly, gently smacking Wayne’s hand away from him. “Whatever, old man.”

“Now go,” Wayne muttered, shooing Eddie away with a small smile. “You annoy me more when you're sad.”

Eddie flipped him off halfheartedly before turning and grabbing his Walkman from his room, stuffing his feet into his shoes and heading outside. He eyed the picnic table. He had kind of enjoyed how Steve’s cheeks had flushed, then, all embarrassed and pretty as he coughed.

But he fucked over his chances of ever seeing him like that again, Eddie thought as he walked, (Anesthesia)--Pulling Teeth blasting into his ears loud enough to make him go deaf.

He hadn’t meant to make Steve cry like that—and fuck did that man look fucking pretty when he cried—he had wanted Steve to get angry. He had wanted Steve to fight back so that he could prove to himself that Steve was still the person he used to be in highschool. Because he couldn’t possibly fall in love with someone who had hurt him. 

But Steve hadn’t gotten angry, he had gotten sad, and that made Eddie feel horrible. Fuck, he didn’t just feel horrible, he was horrible. Steve was something he didn’t know he had wanted. He was beautiful, he was tragic, he was everything. And it wasn’t the drugs that had made Eddie do what he had done, it was fear.

Because Steve was perfect—too perfect—and maybe he was nice now, but what would happen after? If Eddie gave in, gave Steve what he wanted, and let himself fall deeper? What would happen when Steve was done with the mess that was Eddie Munson?

Eddie would just get hurt again, that’s what. He would get hurt, and he would be fucking broken—but now Steve was fucking broken, and…god, he had really fucked up, hadn’t he?

Eddie went over to Ken’s instead of taking a walk down to BrandyWine—the small wooden bridge across the creek, which Gareth had named a few months ago—and she looked pissed when she opened the door for him, looking him over and glaring at his devastated appearance. “Steve’s not here if you’re looking for him.”

“Why would Steve be with you? He doesn’t know you,” Eddie muttered, pushing past her and stepping into her trailer. It was smaller than his, and the whole place smelled like incense and oranges. “Jesus, how much of that shit did you burn?”

“He does know me, now, actually,” She said, shoving Eddie’s shoulder lightly as he turned to face her again. “After I found him crying in my front yard.”

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered, sighing and dropping his head into his hands. “Look, Ken, I already feel bad enough, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay?”

Ken leaned over him slightly to look in the mirror and fix her hair a bit around the edges, her tank top hiking up her back. Eddie tugged it back down, tucking it back into her too-short jean shorts. She huffed and turned to him. “I promised him I wouldn’t yell at you—and I won’t push for answers, either, since you really do look upset—but that doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”

Eddie nodded, feeling his eyes prickle with tears again. He hadn’t really let himself cry over this, and he didn’t think he deserved to. He had been an asshole, he didn’t get to cry. Ken sighed and adjusted the straps of her tanktop. He looked down so that he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze. Her white socks were riding low below her knees, bunched up and grass-stained. 

“I know you’re hurt, babe, trust me. You didn’t tell me that my hair was nice when you first came in, which is always a dead giveaway,” she was being serious, but Eddie laughed quietly, sniffing and looking up at her when she took his hands in hers, squeezing gently. “But Steve is hurt too. And I know you don’t like him very much, but he at least deserves an apology.”

Eddie bites back a sob, nodding. “I know. And I will, I just…don’t know if he’ll forgive me.”

“People don’t apologize for forgiveness, honey,” Ken whispered, pulling him into a hug, his chin over her shoulder and her arms around his waist. “We apologize because we feel bad. Understand?”

Eddie nodded again, turning to press his face into Ken’s neck, hating how his chest ached when she slid her hand up and down his back, being so fucking gentle with him even though he didn’t deserve that, either.

“And,” She continued, her voice softer. “I’m pretty sure he’ll forgive you. Trust me.”

“How do you know everything already?” Eddie whined halfheartedly, pushing his face further into Ken’s neck, and he could feel it when she laughed. “I’m older than you.”

“Maybe if you spent less time being all mopey and pissy, you’d learn a thing or too,” she teased, poking him in the side and he jolted, tightening his hold on her and frowning. 

“Rude.”

“I’m right, though, and you know it. I’m always right.”

Eddie laughed again, shaking his head slightly. “I hate you.”

“I know,” She whispered, moving her hand up to his hair as she shifted around him to press her cheek to the side of his head. “I could give you a ride to Steve’s, if you want.”

Eddie sighed, sinking into her embrace and nodding, slipping a finger through a loop in her jeans and tugging, his breath catching again. He really didn’t want to have to face Steve yet—maybe give himself some time to compose himself so he didn’t become hysterical when he tried to apologize—but he didn’t want to wait to do it like an asshole, either. “Yeah, fine.”

Kendall pushed him away gently by the shoulders, smiling slightly when he frowned and tried to pull her back to him. “You’re so fucking clingy, did you know that?”

“I’ve been told. By you. Many times,” Eddie muttered, moving hair out of his face and sighing again. He made a small noise of protest as she grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to the bathroom, saying that he should “shower first, because he should look presentable when he apologizes.”

Eddie flipped her off and rolled his eyes, but showered anyway.

i can’t draw for shit but have this doodle of Kendall (Ken) i made because i love her and she is literally me

I have a problem making characters who look and act like me leave me alone :(

as always, reblogs and comments make my day ♥️

taglist which is always open unless i say otherwise!:

@estrellami-1

@randombibitch

@insteviewetrust

@anne-bennet-cosplayer

@hack-saw2004

@lolawonsstuff

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@slowandsteddie

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@mugloversonly

@littlebluejane

@zombiethingy

@steddie-island

@rozzieroos

@ohimamarigold

@origamiplushie

@mamafaithful

@stillfullofshit

@gleek4twd

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@anaibis

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

@honhonbaguettegofuckyourself

@kickpuncher2punchkicker

@dissociatingdemon

@itsall-taken

@pluto-pepsi

@lawrencebshoggoth

@manda-panda-monium

@flustratedcas

@here4thetrauma

@silentiumdelirium

@limpingpenguin

@samsoble 

@hotluncheddie

@sangrientojoe

@moomkin77

@jamieweasley13

@private-jett

@eyeharttart

@y4r3luv

@ultimatezuku

@emelieluckwood

@foundintheshadows (you didn’t ask to be added but i saw your tags, so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged again in the next part ♥️)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Wayne Munson #Wayne Munson fic #wayne Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfic #Steve Harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steddie fanfic #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things OCs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things AU #st3 #finn writes #My writing #my fic

[luveline]

Slightly different request but maybe we can see Eddie and roan having a close loving and cuddly moment together that mostly centres them? You’ve just characterised them so well and I love their daddy daughter dynamic

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

"Hey, pumk-min," Eddie says, "whatcha doing?" 

Roan looks up at her dad and squints. She's as Munson as they come, pale-skinned with dark curls, dark brows set over big brown eyes that look adorable when narrowed. 

"You're being 'spicious," she says. 

Eddie kneels down, knees in the soft rug Roan has claimed as her colouring den, and huffs. His pyjama pants are yours, purple with black and dainty flowers, and his t-shirt is a washed out charcoal grey that Roan's seen all her life. His hair is half dry, half damp from the shower, curls weighed down with water. He looks young, though Roan doesn't know that. To her, Eddie just looks like her dad. 

"I do have something to ask you," he admits.

She hums and makes an expression beyond her years. Yeah, I thought so. "What?" she asks. 

"I need help making dinner tonight cause Y/N's going out." 

Roan smiles at the mention of you, then frowns when she remembers you're leaving on a Saturday. "Where's she going? I want to go." 

"She's going to see her friends," he says. 

"I'm her friend," Roan whines. 

"You're my best friend!" you call as you rush down the stairs. 

You walk into the living room where they're sequestered, not so much as perturbed by the bombshell mess of pencils and crayons. 

"Like, in the whole world," you add, threading an earring through your ear before pressing on the back. "What do you think, do I look pretty?" 

Roan stands up and a collection of pencils fall from the fluffy skirt of her princess dress, shiny layers of turquoise blue that dance around her ankles as she rushes to climb up onto the sofa. She leans over the back and you receive her for a short hug.

She complains as you pull back. 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you say, smushing a kiss to her little forehead. "I won't be gone too long, princess, and that's a promise." 

Eddie stands too to see you out the door. Roan deflates against the couch cushions but doesn't cry, just says, "Bye, mom," in a sulky mumble.  

Eddie takes your hands. 

"Why does she always call me mom when I'm trying to leave?" you ask. Roan calls you mom sometimes, your name mostly, and sweetheart when she's feeling funny. 

"'Cause she knows it'll make you wanna stay," he says, which you already knew. "You look beautiful. Tell your other boyfriend I said hello."

You hug him and you smell like lots of things, perfume and hairspray and soap, arms behind his neck. Your jewellery sparkles almost as much as your smile. He squeezes your waist. 

"See you later. Love you." You poke your head around the door jam as you step back. "Love you Ro!" 

"I love you!" she shouts cheerfully. 

A quick kiss and you're gone. 

Eddie's glad to see, despite your departure, that Roan is in good spirits. She puts her hands under her face and holds herself up by the elbows, a poster child for pretty babies in her dress and her messy hair. 

"What's for dinner, anyway?" she asks curiously. 

"Anyway," Eddie repeats, laughing, "I was thinking we'd have what we always have when Y/N's not home."

Roan squeals and holds out her arms. "Cheeseburgers!" she shouts, climbing up into Eddie's chest as he wraps his arms around her. 

He'd been planning on carrying her to the kitchen. It's been a couple of hours since lunch and Eddie knows she must be hungry, but he gets a whiff of her jellybean shampoo and holds her closer. 

Roan melts into the affection. Her tiny nose jabs him in the chest, her silky soft curls tickling him all over as she cuddles in. He drags his hand up the breadth of her back. 

"It's not so bad, is it? Spending time with dad?" 

"It's the best." 

Eddie spins her around. He holds the small of her back and let's the momentum carry her head back, prompting a wave of delirious giggles. She enjoys it, and Eddie assumes that'll be the end of it, but when she gets her bearings back she wraps her warm hands behind his neck and stares up at him lovingly. It's the only word that can describe her little expression. 

"I love you," she says, beaming. 

"I love you, too. You're not just saying that because you want extra cheese, are you?" 

"I do want extra cheese," she says honestly. "But I will still love you if you don't give me any. Maybe." 

He hikes her up higher so they're face to face. For Eddie, it's like looking into a cuter, younger mirror. She's so funny and quirky and lovely, he gets a stab of emotion, heat behind his eyes. 

"I love you," he says, kissing her cheek. "Love you so much," —he kisses her other cheek— "you can have every slice of cheese in the house." He kisses her cheek again, too many times. 

When he pulls away, she's pink in the face. 

"As long as you don't–" 

"Don't tell mom, I know." 

They gather their resources and make the best burgers ever. Eddie melts the promised cheese on the griddle in the patty grease and Roan eats what won't fit on her burger with a spoon. She's crashing hard from a food coma when you finally get home, but she still makes a point to tell you how much cheese Eddie gave her. 

"Like, the whole packets," she brags sleepily, face half hidden in Eddie's chest. 

You press wine cooler kisses against their foreheads. "Yeah? Leave any for me?" 

"Oh…" Roan blinks at you with wide eyes. "Sorry." 

"In the microwave," Eddie mouths. 

You grin and dance away, clearly tipsy and humming. When you find the burger he'd made you, you laugh. "Aw, yis. My boyfriend's the best," he hears your say, awed. 

"Don't forget that ring on your finger!" he calls. "God knows my savings account won't." 

"My fiance is the best," you amend to yourself. 

Roan snuggles into Eddie's chest. Eddie pets her hair. 

"Love you, pumk-min," he says. 

Roan snores.

#eddie and roan #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #step mom!reader #stranger things fanfiction

[writingdumpster]

an idea

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering, oral sex mention, fisting, squirting, praise kink

summary: eddie tells you he wants to fist you. pure porn.

word count: 2,150

Eddie had been eating you out enthusiastically for the last twenty minutes, pushing you into your first orgasm of the night. He leaned back onto his knees as you evened out your breath, enjoying the sight of your twitching body. Eddie ran his hand along the outside of your calf, his fingertips faintly drawing lines along your soft skin.

“I have an idea,” Eddie said. You laughed.

“Uh oh,” you joked. He grinned. “What is it?” You asked.

“Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?” He requested.

“Eddie, you are crazy,” you teased him. He smiled bashfully. “C’mon, tell me,” you pushed.

“I thought maybe you could let me…fist you,” Eddie said, a red blush spreading across his cheeks the moment he said it. You thought for a moment.

“Have you ever done it with someone else?” You asked. Eddie shook his head.

“No, I’ve never told anyone I wanted to before,” he confessed. You smiled warmly. The two of you had started out as a casual hook up, but for the last month the two of you had been growing more and more romantic with one another. You were pleased that Eddie felt comfortable enough to share his fantasies with you.

“You saw it in a porn then?” You asked. Eddie blushed.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Did it look like it hurt the girl?” You asked. Eddie shook his head.

“No, she was…enjoying herself,” Eddie said with a smirk. You chuckled.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I trust you.” Eddie felt his heart skip a beat at your words. He was starting to truly care about you and it was getting harder for him to hide. Eddie crawled over to the edge of the bed and grabbed the bottle of lube on his bedside table. He returned to his place between your legs. He squirted a generous amount of the lube onto his hand and rubbed the excess on your already soaked cunt.

“We’ll work our way up,” Eddie said as he slipped two fingers into you. You hummed gratefully as he began pumping them slowly in and out of you. The wetness from your first orgasm and the copious amount of lube was making filthy sounds as Eddie moved his fingers. His wrist flicked as he moved in and out of you, rubbing his fingers against your g-spot. You hadn’t used words since Eddie had slipped his fingers into you, but you had been making plenty of noise.

“You sound so pretty, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured. “You ready for another?”

“Yes…” You whispered softly. Eddie felt a rush of pride at the need lacing your tone. He slowly eased a third finger into you. You gasped as the new addition stretched your walls.

“Feel okay?” Eddie asked. He kept his fingers buried in you to the knuckle but was hooking them inside you to rub your spongy wall with his calloused fingertips.

“Feels good,” you mewled. Eddie reached up with his other hand and pushed his fingers over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. “Ohhh, Eddie,” you cried and arched your back away from the mattress.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie growled as he watched you.

“I’m gonna come!” You cried when Eddie’s movements on your clit sped up. Eddie chuckled darkly. His eyes were locked on your body, trying to absorb every inch of it at once. He couldn’t decide which part of you he liked looking at the most.

“Go on, angel. Let it happen,” Eddie encouraged sweetly. You let your orgasm wash over you, electric pleasure running through your veins while your pussy clenched down on Eddie’s fingers. You threw your hips into the air as you cried out in pleasure. “That’s it, good girl,” Eddie cooed. You let your hips fall back down to the mattress as you caught your breath.

“Eddie,” you sighed contentedly. “More.” Eddie smirked. He pulled his fingers out so the tips of them were just dancing between your soaked lips. He turned his hand vertically and began running four of his fingers up and down your slit. His index finger was hitting your clit each time he got to the top of your cunt, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

“You ready for four, sweet thing?” Eddie asked, voice like honey.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I want it.” Eddie ran his fingers up and down your pink lips before slowly pushing four fingers into you. You gasped in pleasure as you felt the stretch of Eddie’s four fingers pushing into your tight cunt. Eddie had gotten past his first two knuckles when he let out a guttural groan.

“I can feel you opening up for me, angel. Your little cunt wants more of me,” Eddie murmured. He moved his other hand back to your clit and started rubbing the swollen little bud back and forth causing you to kick your legs against the mattress. You moan in ecstasy.

“Fuck, Eds,” you whined. “It’s so good.” Eddie got all of his four fingers into you and began sliding them in and out of you. He pulled his hand away from your clit and grabbed the bottle of lube laying by his knee. He flipped the top open and poured more lube over his hand and your pussy. You moaned as Eddie’s hands began making even louder squelching noises.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Eddie murmured as he turned his hand inside you. You moaned at the sudden change. Eddie started hooking all four of his fingers against your g-spot. You moaned as the pads of his fingers rubbed against you in just the right spot.

“I’m gonna let you do it again,” you mumbled back. Eddie chuckled.

“Whatever you want, sweet thing,” Eddie called down. He leaned over you to kiss you sloppily. He continued moving his fingers in and out of you, hooking them gently and letting you stretch around him.

“Eddie,” you called. “I want the whole thing,” you told him. “I’m ready.”

“You sure, princess?” He asked. “We can stop if you want.”

“No!” You said a bit more aggressively than you intended. Eddie smirked. “Don’t stop. I want it all,” you pleaded.

“Alright, sweet thing. You know I just want to take care of you,” he cooed. He pulled out of you once more and put more lube on his hand for good measure. He looked down at you and made eye contact, giving you an encouraging smile. He closed his hand so that his fingers were all pushed together like he was making a puppet of his hand. Really, he was going to make a puppet out of you. Eddie locked eyes with you again. You gave him a small nod.

“I’m ready,” you told him again. He slowly began pushing his hand into you. He was rubbing your clit with his other hand, trying to distract you from the painful stretch with pleasure. You found you didn’t mind the stretch though. It felt incredible to feel yourself opening up to accommodate Eddie. You’d never felt so aroused before. Eddie had gotten his fingers into you, but he had just arrived at the knuckle, where you would have to open the widest to accommodate him. The two of you made eye contact.

“Take a deep breath and relax, angel,” Eddie cooed. You nodded, inhaling deeply before exhaling and letting every remaining ounce of tension leave your body. As you did you felt Eddie pushing his wide knuckles past your opening. You gasped and moaned involuntarily at the stretch. You felt your gummy walls tighten around Eddie’s wrist as his hand slid all the way into your cunt.

“Mmmhhhooohh, Eddie,” you moaned up at him. Eddie could feel your cunt clenching down on his hand.

“Does it feel okay, sweet thing?” He asked, his hand motionless inside you. He pressed a small kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“It feels fucking incredible,” you told him. “I feel so full.”

“Is it alright if I start moving then?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” you said breathily. “Please.” Eddie began to slowly turn his wrist so that his palm would be facing up inside you. You moaned as you felt his hand moving inside you, stretching your wet hole. He began thrusting his hand in and out of you shallowly, not moving out enough that you would have to accommodate his knuckles as he did. You moaned roughly at the feeling.

“That feels good?” Eddie asked.

“Feels really good,” you assured him. You clenched down on his wrist.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight, even with my whole hand inside you.” He stopped thrusting. “Look at me.” You turned your eyes to meet his soft brown ones. He smirked devilishly but before you could question him you felt him close his fist inside you. You moaned in shocked pleasure. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your legs kicked and your back arched away from the mattress, your body moving as if by Eddie’s command. He ran his hand up and down your thigh to soothe you.

“Open it,” you whimpered as you caught your breath.

“Open it?” Eddie asked.

“Your hand. Open it inside me,” you said. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not all the way. Just enough to stretch me.” He nodded. He slowly began to open his fist. You started moaning immediately as you felt his hand moving.

“Ohh, fuck, Eddie,” your voice was low and sultry. None of the sounds coming from your mouth were being controlled and their volume was growing higher than it probably should have been.

“You sound so sexy, sweet thing. I love your moans,” Eddie called. All you could do in response was moan out another incoherent sound. Eddie’s hand was now open flat inside you, fingers still pushed together. He was rubbing against your walls tenderly when you reached up and touched his chest, gaining his attention. He looked at you, eyes wide, waiting to follow whatever instruction you had for him.

“Fuck me with your hand,” you begged. “Make me come.” Eddie smirked.

“You sure?” He asked, his voice laced with the cockiness that had gotten you in his bed the first time.

“I’m sure,” you said. He nodded

“Lay back, angel,” he cooed. “I’ll take care of this sweet little pussy for you.” He began thrusting his hand in and out of you, just letting your lips open around the width of his knuckles before pushing back into you again. You were moaning wildly. The neighbors had surely heard by this point. The wet sloshing of your cunt was filling the spaces between your moans.

“Faster,” you called. Eddie complied at once. His hand was still stroking your thigh softly. You reached down to your clit with your own hand and began rubbing circles against it. Eddie moaned.

“Yeah, baby, touch yourself,” he groaned. You whined back in pleasure.

“I’m gonna come, Eddie,” you told him.

“I know, angel.”

“Gonna make a mess,” you warned. Eddie grinned.

“You gonna squirt for me, sweet thing?” You nodded furiously. “Go on. Make a mess all over me.” Eddie started moving his hand more quickly, pulling it out of you past the knuckle before pushing it back in again. Your cunt was making the dirtiest sound you’d ever heard and you couldn’t have contained the moans coming out of you if your life depended on it, but you would’ve died happy anyway.

“Ahhhh! Eddddiieee!” You cried. You came hard. Eddie could feel you clenching and unclenching around his hand as he kept fucking it in and out of you. After another second you were spraying clear fluid all over his arm and sheets as you continued coming.

“Yeah, that’s it, come,” Eddie groaned. Your chest was heaving as pleasure continued to run through your body but slowly you caught your breath. You looked up at Eddie with heavily lidded eyes as he gently pulled his hand from you. He wiped it off on the leg of his pants and then looked up at you.

“Hi,” you said softly. Eddie grinned.

“Hi,” he said. “You feel okay?” He asked. You nodded.

“That was great,” you said. You reached down and grabbed his hand. “Can I take care of you now?” You asked. Eddie blushed.

“You, uh, don’t…need to,” he mumbled.

“I want to,” you said.

“No, I mean…I…” You glanced down and saw the wet spot staining his pants. You smirked. Eddie looked away from you in embarrassment.

“That’s hot, Eddie,” you said.

“It’s hot that I came in my pants like a teenager?” He asked. You nodded.

“Really hot.” Eddie chuckled.

“Whatever you say,” he agreed.

“See, you’re starting to get how this works,” you teased. He smiled.

“Well, girlfriends are always right and boyfriends are always wrong, right?” He joked. Your eyes widened and you smiled bashfully.

“Girlfriend?” You asked, the hope in your voice unavoidable. Eddie smiled. He laid down beside you and pulled you into his arms. He gave you a sweet and loving kiss.

“Yeah, baby. Girlfriend.”

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things smut

[steddieas-shegoes]

wound up

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is helping them unwind’

rated m | 930 words | cw: suggestive language, dirty talk | tags: massages, fluff, established relationship

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

“How are these knots so bad, sweetheart?” Eddie asked as he rubbed at Steve’s shoulders in the shower.

Steve grunted in response.

His eyes were closed and he was leaning more and more towards the wall in front of him. Eddie gently guided him back until he was leaning against Eddie’s chest.

“You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Steve shook his head once before letting it fall back on his shoulder.

“You need me to help?”

“Mm.”

Eddie smiled against Steve’s shoulder, kissed his fourth favorite freckle, and reached behind him to turn off the water.

Steve groaned, like he didn’t want to get out, but he knew he had to. Eddie was strong and could definitely carry him, but then he wouldn’t be able to dry him off properly and Steve hated getting in bed with damp skin.

Eddie set a towel down on the toilet lid so Steve could sit while he patted his skin dry, leaving kisses at his third and eighth favorite freckles.

Steve’s eyes stayed closed for most of it, only fluttering open when Eddie paused to grab a different towel for his hair.

“Alright, Stevie. Let’s get you into bed.”

Steve moved surprisingly quickly, though Eddie knew it was probably because he knew the sooner he got in bed, the sooner he’d have Eddie’s hands on him and he could fall asleep.

He fell on his stomach, squirming into the middle of their bed, face buried into Eddie’s pillow.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at him, at how adorable he was when he was this tired. He hated that he hadn’t been sleeping much, but having a pliant Steve was almost worth it.

Eddie opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the massage oil they’d splurged on last time they went to the store. It was $20 for a bottle, but it smelled like pineapples and coconut and made Steve turn into a puddle. It was worth every penny.

He settled on Steve’s thighs, gently pressing his thumbs into the dimples at the bottom of Steve’s spine.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so stressed?” Eddie asked as he poured some oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together.

“Work. School.” Steve turned his head and opened his eyes. “Not getting to fall asleep with you every night.”

Eddie had been stuck on the late shift for a while, which brought in more money, but meant he didn’t usually get home until almost midnight. Luckily, his last late shift was tomorrow, and they could go back to having dinner together, going to bed together, just existing together.

“You can tonight,” Eddie said as he started rubbing the oil across his back and shoulders, making sure everywhere was covered. “And after tomorrow, I won’t be on late shift anymore except for emergencies. You’ll have my undivided attention every night, sweetheart.”

“Mm,” Steve hummed. He was relaxing, his muscle unclenching slowly as Eddie’s hands worked across every major muscle group.

“You always turn to jelly like this. Love seeing you give it all up for me,” Eddie leaned down to kiss the back of his head before resuming his work. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”

Steve was always beautiful, but when his body sank into the sheets, at the mercy of Eddie’s fingers, he became almost ethereal. Something about the way his trust was a physical presence in their bed during these moments made Eddie feel superhuman.

His fingertips dug into his side, just on the right side of rough. Steve let out a moan, bottom lip red from biting it.

If he turned over, Eddie would see how hard he was.

But this wasn’t about that tonight, neither of them needed the release of an orgasm, just the release of tension. Steve would fall asleep in the next few minutes, Eddie would get up to wash his hands before falling into bed next to him to join him in sleep.

Every moment that Eddie’s fingers glided over Steve’s skin felt precious, took him closer to the dreams he deserved to have instead of the nightmares he’d been waking from.

Steve let out small moans as Eddie pressed harder into his lower back and hips, but he didn’t move more than a few heavier breaths.

“Wound so tight, love. You can rest now. I got you,” Eddie whispered.

He gentled his touch, gliding over his skin with just enough pressure not to tickle. He watched as Steve’s mouth parted and his breathing slowed.

“That’s it, that’s my boy.”

Eddie didn’t move off of him for a minute, didn’t want to startle him awake, but he reached for a towel to wipe his hands. It didn’t get rid of the greasy residue completely, but it helped.

He watched Steve’s back lift and fall as he breathed, watched his fingers twitch against the pillow by his head as he sunk further into sleep.

Eddie slowly got off of him, covering him up with the blanket quickly so he wouldn’t get cold. He rushed to wash his hands, tried to dry his hair a bit more, and then slid his boxers on.

He got into bed slowly, getting into position for Steve to inevitably curl up into his side, hand over his heart.

He watched Steve stay relaxed for maybe the first time in weeks, no crease in his forehead from nightmares, no aches from scars long-healed.

If he had to give Steve a massage every night for him to be this content, this happy, he would.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is helping them unwind #fluff #established relationship #massage #suggestive language #dirty talk

[bookshelf-dust]

go to sleep

eddie munson x gn!reader

word count: 1,108

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst but no happy ending

a/n: gonna take max’s advice for this one and just sit here. i’m gonna sit here, and i’m gonna watch. mhm. that’ll do ;)

————

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Your face splits into a grin before you can even try to suppress it. It doesn’t matter how shitty your day has been, that you cried in the car on the way home, that there’s this ache in your chest—almost like something is really wrong, something you can’t quite put your finger on. It doesn’t matter, because now you’re home. 

You pull the door shut behind you, gaze dragging over the man stretched out on the couch before you. 

“Hi, baby.”

Eddie sits up, watching intently as you tug off your shoes, your coat. You go to him, and he spreads his legs, arms held out, welcoming you to a hug. You notice, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, that he isn’t wearing his pick necklace. 

He nuzzles his face into the soft skin of your belly, taking in the leftover scent of your perfume, the laundry detergent used to wash your shirt. He kisses your forearm, lips a little chilly. 

You pull back and take his face in your hands to kiss him properly. He smiles into it, giddy as ever to have his mouth on yours. He treats each ounce of your affection like it is the greatest privilege one could ever be allowed. It is an immense privilege that you allow him to be yours.  

His hands fist the fabric of your t-shirt. “You wanna lay down with me for a while?” 

You nod, and the movement makes him grin. His happiness is palpable. 

“Yeah? Come on then.”

He scoots back against the arm of the couch, shoving a pillow under his head. He has a feeling you need his attention. That maybe you’ve been longing for it. He opens his legs, watches as you settle on top of him, careful not to hurt him while you get comfortable. 

When you shove your face into his chest, trying to absorb as much of him as you can, you realize that his lips aren’t the only chilly part of him. He’s cold. He’s usually so warm, like your own personal space heater.

“Eddie? Can you reach that blanket?”

Your brows knit in concern, but he doesn’t catch it, just pulls the fabric over the two of you. He tucks it in around his thighs, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Better?” he asks, kissing the top of your head. 

You look up at him, propping your chin up on your hands. “Much. I love you, Eddie, you know that, right?”

“‘Course I know that. I love you too. So much it hurts.”

You lean forward slightly and press a kiss to his collarbone. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you, Eds.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s a good kind of pain.” 

You kiss his chin. Your brain keeps fussing at you, telling you something’s wrong. This isn’t right. You ignore it. 

“Anything you wanna talk about?” 

Eddie hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you got home. There’s this look in them that you recognize, a look you’ve only seen once. Something in your head tells you that you didn’t like that occasion. Because he’d looked at you like you’d hung the stars, like he could let go because you were there, and that meant he was safe. 

No. That’s silly. 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Just wanna be here with you.”

Really there’s so much you want to tell him. So much you need to catch him up on. Things you shouldn’t have to catch him up on. But your heart tells you not right now. You feel as though he might slip through your fingers at any moment. 

You bring your hands around his back, rubbing over his shoulder blades. You hug him tightly. 

“Don’t go, Eddie.”

He laughs. “Where would I go, huh, baby? I’m right here. You get some rest now, okay? When you wake up, we can pick up dinner.”

“Promise?”

He tilts your head up toward him with a soft touch, his index and middle fingers to your chin.

Eddie kisses you. Soft and sweet. As you drift off, you can’t help but realize that he never promised. He just kept you distracted.

————

When you wake up, you’re covered in a thin layer of sweat. Not enough that you’ve soaked through your clothes, but enough that the backs of your knees feel sticky, that your hands are warm and a little swollen. Your heart is pounding. 

“Eddie—”

You call out for him, but your voice catches in your throat. You’re crying. You hadn’t realized you were crying. 

Eddie’s not here.

But you know where he is.

He’s exactly where you left him. In that place. Where he’d given you that look. 

It’s okay, baby, really. This is all I get, and we have to be okay with that. I’m okay with it. You’re gonna be fine, y-you hear me? 

On instinct, your hand moves to Eddie’s side of the bed. Cold. The pillow still has an indentation from his head, one on the side where he’d grip it when lying on his stomach. 

Your dream crashes over you all at once, every small detail telling you exactly what it was. A dream. Much better than your waking nightmare. You fall back against your own pillow and shut your eyes.

Go to sleep, you think. It’s still dark out. You should be sleeping.

Maybe if you can get back to sleep, Eddie will come to you again. Maybe you’ll be able to feel him. Hear his voice. Oh, his voice. 

My sweet baby.

Can’t believe I landed such a badass.

Come and give me a hug, I’m dyin’ here.

You can pick the music.

Gonna marry you someday, you know that?

You’re sobbing now. Your room is covered in Eddie. He’s everywhere. You smack your hand against the mattress beside you, angry that you’re alone. 

Because he should be here. He should be here and he should be snoring, pressing half his body weight into you because he can’t share for the life of him. 

When you wake up, you know he won’t be in the shower, screaming the words to some obscure metal song. He won’t rush back up the stairs to kiss you twice more before he leaves. He won’t call at lunch. You won’t hear his music blaring halfway down the street when he comes home. 

Take me with you, you’d thought. I wanna go. I don’t want to be without you. Please don’t go without me. 

If only it’d been that simple. 

You keep your eyes squeezed shut and roll onto the opposite side of the bed. 

Go to sleep, you think. Eddie might be there. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #angst no happy ending #eddie munson angst

[forever-rogue]

I desperately need something where reader is kinda having a body worship moment with Eddie over his lil waist? 🫣like, she’s placing kisses/love bites all over his torso while he lets out breathing moans/whimpers. maybe a few laughs bc he’s ticklish and involuntarily body/hip twitches from all the touching?

AN | You wanted some soft, sweet body worship? You get some! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

Your Turn

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The boy was sprawled out on the bed underneath you, eyes closed and bottom lip worried between his teeth. You were beaming at him, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. You were straddling his waist, hands holding his and fingers delicately laced together as you took your time to make him fall apart. Judging from the blissed out look on his face, you were already succeeding.

“You’re so pretty, honey boy,” you pulled one of your hands from his and brought it to his face, ghosting the tips of your fingers over the contours of his handsome features. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart almost stopped at the sight of you watching him with nothing short of pure adoration etched all over your own face, “such pretty, soft brown eyes. Nice, soft plush lips that were made for kissing.”

“Only for kissin’ you,” he managed to murmur as you traced your thumb along his full bottom lip.

“Duh,” you teased as you brought your hand to your own lips, pressed a kiss to your fingers before pressing back to his own, “you’re all mine, Eddie Munson. And I’m all yours.”

"Mmmm," he hummed in content as you ran your hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. He practically keened into your touch as you untangled some of his roguish waves. He'd let you wash his hair earlier when you'd showered together, practically melting into a puddle at the feeling of you working magic with your fingers.

"I love your hair," you whispered, as you admired the shiny, soft dark locks. You secretly hoped that he would never change it, no matter how old you both grew, "its so pretty. I wanna braid it later. May I?"

"You can do whatever you'd like, angel," his entire body was humming with warm energy under your display of love.

"Just what I like to hear," you leaned down to kiss him, pressing gentle, barely there kisses to the apples of cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose before stopping at his lips, "so soft and lovely."

“You’re teasing,” he huffed lightly as you giggled at him, nudging your nose against his, “angel.”

“I am not teasing,” you insisted softly, “I am just taking my sweet time lovin’ on you. Is that okay, honey boy?”

“Y-yeah,” he swallowed thickly as you dragged your lips across his jaw. You could feel the fervent pitter-patter of his heart under your palm, as you lavished him in attention. He so rarely asked for anything, but he always gave and gave and gave. But tonight you had turned the tables, and decided that you were going to give him all of the love you possessed in your body. 

You focused your attention on his glorious neck, kissing the skin and making sure to leave your mark in the form of love bites over as much of him as possible. You knew he loved leaving his signature behind on you, and you wanted everyone to know he was yours just as much. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as you soothed the soft bites with your tongue. 

“Taste so good,” you whispered into his ear, “oh my love, you are everything and more to me.”

“I love you,” he turned his face to yours so he could press a soft kiss to your lips, “my angel.”

“I love you,” you promised before slowly moving to straddle him again. You tugged on the hem of his well loved and worn t-shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off. He nodded slowly and you pushed the fabric up his torso, smiling when he leaned up so you could pull it off his frame and toss it to the side, “delicious.”

You raked your fingers over his chest, taking a moment to trace over the tattoos into his skin. The most recent one was a small heart with your initials placed under his left collarbone. You thought he had been joking when he mentioned getting it, but when he’d come home and proudly displayed it to you, your heart almost burst with affection and adoration. You gently touched the soft bits of hair on his chest and trail that started below his belly button and disappeared into the waistband of his gray joggers. 

You traced an invisible line with the tip of your finger from one freckle to the next that littered his torso. You heard a small giggle as he squirmed lightly under your touch; it was a pretty sound that you loved pulling from him, “I forgot you were so ticklish, baby. Want me to stop?”

“N-no,” you met his eyes and found excited, big brown orbs staring at you, “like it when you touch me.”

“Oh, trust me, I know that,” you grinned before blowing a raspberry into the crook of his shoulder which only caused him to laugh even harder, “stay still, baby.”

“‘m trying,” he insisted breathlessly, “you’re playing dirty.”

“Oh, I can play dirtier,” you promised, “trust me.”

You placed wet kisses along his collarbones, trailing them down his chest. His hands were at his side, clutching at the blanket as you took your time with him. This might have been your favorite spot in the world, and part of you wished this night would never have to end. Working your way down his body, you stopped when you were laying between his spread legs, resting your head on his thigh, “you’re such a view, Eds.”

“So are you,” there was a bit of that teasing lilt back to his voice as a lazy little smile tugged up the corners of his mouth, “especially when you’re down there like that.”

“Cheeky,” you grazed your fingers over his waistband of his sweats before pulling them down ever so slightly to expose his hips. When you pressed kisses to his hip bones, you could almost feel him shuddering under your touch, “nothing to say now?”

He moaned softly as you pulled the joggers and his legs, leaving him clad in only his plaid boxers. You raked your fingers over his legs, using your nails to tickle him lightly as he squirmed and laughed. Wrapping a hand around his ankle, you pulled his leg up so you could press kisses there. You repeated the action on his other leg. Eventually you made your way back up his body, lying on top of him and clinging onto him like a koala. 

“Hi,” his chuckle was soft in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, “you’re so warm and soft.”

“So are you,” you pulled back for a moment and looked down at him, “you’re my best friend, Eddie. I hope you know how much I love you.”

“You’re my best friend too,” his smile was magical; wide, toothy, and dimple displaying. You weren’t sure how anyone could resist falling in love with him as soon as they saw him smile, “and you’re so smart, so kind, so funny, and so fuckin’ pretty.”

“Hey,” you touched his face softly, “this is supposed to me loving you, not the other way around. But, I love you for all the same things and then some. You are everything to me, Eddie Munson. And that is never going to change.”

“Never,” he agreed, before slowly shifting your bodies so you were lying underneath him. He leaned down and kissed you, “my turn.”

“Eddie.”

“Please, angel, let me love you,” and how could you ever say no to him? 

“Okay,” you smiled at him, “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

[strangernstranger]

At Home Haircuts

Eddie x Fem Reader request

Summary: Turns out, Eddie isn’t very good at cutting his own hair and calls on his best friend to fix it for him. (Fluffy mutual pining.)

Inbox is open for requests!

——— “It’s bad. It’s really bad.” Eddie paced back and forth across your kitchen. The hood of his jacket was pulled snuggly over his head to hide his mistake.

“Well, how will I know if I can fix it if you won’t let me see it!?” You flung your hands up as you spoke. Eddie had called you earlier to explain his predicament. In hindsight, it was a mistake trying to cut his own hair. His over confidence had clouded his judgment. How hard can it be? He thought. He quickly realized how wrong he was in that assumption. You were the only person he trusted to fix the mess he had made and you were happy enough to oblige. Anything for your friend.

“Okay okay okay! Just…promise you won’t laugh?” Eddie bit at his thumb, sure you would shame him for what he had done. With closed eyes and a deep sigh, he pushed the hood off of his head, revealing his at-home-hack-job.

“Oh wow.” Your eyes widened at the sight, chunky gaps in Eddie’s beautiful hair.

“It’s ruined. I knew! SHIT!” Eddie panicked.

“No! It’s not ruined! It’s just…not what I expected. But, totally salvageable!” You placed your hands on your best friends shoulders to steady him. “We can fix this. We just gotta wash it first.”

“Wash it?” He questioned.

“Um yea. Cutting wavy hair while it’s dry? That was your first mistake. Now, wait here, I’ll get the stuff.”

———

Eddie sniffed at the shampoo bottle, raising a brow at it’s strawberry scent as you folded a towel over the ledge of the kitchen sink for support. Pulling a stool to the sink, you patted the seat for Eddie to sit down.

“Have a seat, big boy.” You smiled.

“I’m gonna smell like a girl.” Eddie laughed before pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his bare chest. You blinked at the sight, fumbling the shampoo bottle as you pried your eyes away. “Sorry…just didn’t wanna get my shirt wet, Y’know?” He walked to where you stood, and sat down on the stool. He lifted his curls off his shoulders as he draped his head backwards over the sink, neck resting on the towel you had prepared for him.

“Y-yea. Makes sense.” You tried to play it cool, but you were a little flustered seeing Eddie shirtless for the first time. He looked good. You eyeballed the tattoo on his chest as you checked the water’s temp. You pulled the sprayer to close, gradually saturating his hair. “How’s that? Is it too cold?” You questioned.

“Feels good.” Eddie sighed, relaxing into the warmth and the scent of your perfume as you leaned in close. You rubbed small circles over his scalp drawing a satisfied smile from your best friend.

“You really should’ve came to me first.” You lightly scolded as you lathered in the shampoo. Eddie groaned happily at the feeling.

“I know. I thought I could do it though.” He chuckled in his shame. If he knew this was the treatment he would be given, he would’ve called you first thing. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the attention. You watched the rise and fall of his chest as you rinsed your friend’s hair. You took notices of his feature like never before. You always thought he was a good looking guy but in that moment, he was beautiful. He opened his big brown eyes, resting them on you. “Thank you.” He smiled warmly which sparked something in you. You almost hated to tell him you were done. You could stare at him like that all day.

——— You two carried out idle conversation as you scissored portions of Eddie’s long hair. Blending the choppy mistakes previously made. Bits a hair fell to Eddie’s shoulder. You leaned in close, pursing your lips to blow it away. Your warm breath against his neck was enough bring a pleasant shiver.

“What do you think?” You crossed your fingers in hopes your friend would approve.

“That’s amazing! You actually fixed it. Holy shit.” Eddie shook his hair and tilted his head to the side to examine it further in the bathroom mirror.

“Maybe next time we can put a little color in it? Maybe a little red streak right here?” You dangled a stand of hair in front of Eddie’s face, tickling his nose. You laughed as he swatted it away.

“No! No way! My hair is virgin and I’m keeping it that way!”

“That’s not the only thing about you that screams virgin.” You picked up your eyebrows in a comedic expression as you mumbled your remark. Eddie narrowed his eyes, peering at you over his shoulder. You twisted his face back to the mirror. “Hold still, I missed a piece.”

“Bet I’ve pulled more than you.” He scoffed.

“Y’know, Munson…I don’t doubt that a single bit.”

“Hold on…are you calling me a slut or are you-? You’re a virgin aren’t you!?” He spun around in the chair to face you directly.

“No, no! Not a virgin…just don’t have very many notches in my bed post. That’s all.” You shrugged coyly before grabbing his face once again to turn him around. You returned to snipping at his mop of hair.

“So what’s your magic number then?” Eddie was all ears. You had never talked about your sex life. He couldn’t help but be curious.

“Two.”

“Just two?”

“Only two.” You nodded. “BUT they were boyfriends so sex was…I guess you can say consistent?” To Eddie’s surprise, your little comment sparked something in him he didn’t expect. His mind filled in the gaps where details lacked. Images of you, mouth opened and back arched flooded his head. He watched your reflection in the mirror as you ran your hands through his hair. Your touch was so soft and attentive. He wondered how it felt on bare skin. Or how you liked to be touched. Eddie blinked hard at his reflection to bring himself out of the trance. He felt guilty for thinking of you in such a way. After all, you were his best friend. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of you before. “What about you?” You questioned. “You keep a little black book of names?”

“Noo. It’s four. Four people. But they were all hookups or short term things. Y’know, girls mad at their boyfriends or looking to piss off daddy. Nothing meaningful.”

“Hey, still counts though!” You shrugged.

“Yea, but I want more than a one night stand…or 5th period in the janitor’s closet.”

“EDDIE YOU DIDNT.” You gasped in amusement.

“I did.” He grinned devilishly. “Heather Mills. But that was it for us. I tried talking to her after that. Asked her out. Instead she ditched me for Billy Hargrove. I guess she wanted a ‘bad boy’ but realized I’m just some freak who plays fantasy games.” Eddie smiled half heartedly, trying to play off the lingering sting of the other girl’s actions. You rested your chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You really liked her didn’t you?”

“No…I just liked the idea of having someone. Anyone.” That wasn’t entirely the true. He wanted you. He had for a while but lacked the courage to tell you.

“Eddie, any girl would be lucky to be your girlfriend. Heather was out of her mind passing on you like that.” You hugged his neck, resting your cheek to his as you looked at your reflections. “And if she slept with Billy, she probably has herpes now. Be glad you got there first.” Eddie laughed before lifting his hand to tussle the hair at the back of your head

“You always know just what to say…..that’s why you’re perfect.” The words didn’t come from a place of confidence. Rather a lack of a filter. Your eyes grew wide as you waited for the moment to be offset by a joke that never came. “Shit…did I- was that-?”

“Y-You think I’m perfect.” You stared at your friend stunned in disbelief.

“Well…yea. You’re smart, funny…hot as hell. You-” Eddie’s admission was cut short. Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips into his, cupping his face in your hands. His hand hesitated momentarily before sliding into your hair. He deepened the kiss, desperately moving closer. You pulled away with a nervous laugh. Your cheeks blossoming into a rosy hue as Eddie’s dimples deepened with his smile. “Sooo, do I owe you for that or just the haircut?” He breathed a laugh as you rolled your eyes.

“Take me out and we’ll call it even?”

“…like a date?” Eddie’s eyes lit up at the notion. You grinned sheepishly with a nod. Almost on instinct, he pulled you in for another desperate kiss. You smiled against his lips. He slipped away just enough to speak. “I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, sweetheart.”

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson request #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson headcanons

[helpimstuckposting]

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

Part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven

—

When the doorbell rang at 8am, Steve realized that he, Eddie, and Robin had been talking for four straight hours - laughing, shrieking, goofing around - and Linda Harrington had still not descended the staircase. He was kind of glad for it, still didn't know how to react despite the tears and hugs they shared yesterday. He wondered if she was deliberately giving them space to make him feel better, or if she was doing what he'd known his own mother to do and just staying away. He knew he'd see her again, had to face her the same way he faced everyone in the party, but he tucked that away in the 'For Later' box as well.

This time he was the one to open the door — Dustin and Lucas rushing through the archway. Will tossed him a hesitant smile, walking past more gently, and Mike stayed on the steps, taking Steve in with a scrunched up face still full of disbelief.

“So weird,” he muttered as he shoved past, following the other kids into the house.

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, glancing to the driveway to see if anyone else had arrived yet.

“Good morning to you, too, Mike,” he called after the teen, shutting the door and following them to the living room.

The hours he spent with Eddie and Robin in the dark dredges of early morning light had passed. As the first handful of the party took their places on the warn white couches in the living room, Steve glanced over at them. New mugs steaming with a fresh brew of coffee held tightly in their hands and Robin’s lips were pursed in a look she’d definitely stolen from Nancy. Steve shouldn’t be looking forward to the kids leaving, shouldn’t be looking forward to an empty house that he’d always dreamed would be full to the brim, but he was already wishing to go back into the dimly lit kitchen with Robin chasing Eddie around the counter.

A bit ashamed of his thoughts, and in need of distraction, Steve trudged back to the kitchen, pulling ingredients to make the group breakfast. He wasn’t sure if they’d eaten already, but knowing how teenage boys were, he was sure they wouldn’t mind more. Really, he just needed to stall. Stall the incoming talk about what they were going to do, how they were going to fix this, how they were going to send Steve back into the wasteland of his own Hawkins. He wanted to bask in the easy laughter of the early sunrise again, pretend that his two favorite people were there to stay, that they’d never left.

But Steve’s always learned quickly that happy moments were fleeting, that even happy memories could squeeze his chest and fill his lungs with a bitter sadness at the realization that he can’t go back. It’s just forward, always forward, into a dark abyss that sometimes contained more happy memories he’d never be able to go back to. Forward, forward, forward into the unknown, away from where it’s safe, away from where it’s warm and gentle and nice.

Steve put a pan of eggs on the stove, lighting the gas to scramble up a large plate. If it were just him, he’d add some other ingredients to the mix but Will didn’t like onions, Mike didn’t like tomatoes, Dustin wasn’t a fan of peppers, and Robin was lactose intolerant so he couldn’t put cheese in it. He knew she’d eat it anyway, but she shouldn’t, even though she never listened to him.

Instead, he left them alone to cook on low and started chopping the veggies to plate on the side. He could hear the group talking over each other in the living room, arguing about what to put on the TV while they waited for the rest to arrive, and Steve let their voices wash over the silence he’d hid himself in, flooding the room with a comfortable static.

The tap of a knuckle knocking against the countertop behind him broke through the hum of their voices. Steve turned to find Dustin awkwardly leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed against his chest, watching Steve prepare a full breakfast that no one had asked for but Steve had felt compelled to make anyway. He glanced back toward the hallway, slightly bouncing in place like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be there.

“Hey, kid,” Steve greeted, turning back to the eggs once the veggies were cut.

“Do you… do you need help?” Dustin asked. Steve didn’t really, but one look at the lost expression on Dustin’s face told him he shouldn’t say no.

“Yeah, could you start plating everything for me while I cook the bacon?” he asked lightly, putting the large pan of eggs next to the veggies so Dustin had easy access. The boy nodded silently, unwrapping his arms from around himself and heading straight for the cabinet that held the serving dishes. Steve tried not to think about the Dustin in his world who’d never been around long enough to know Steve’s house like his own.

They worked in tandem silence for a few minutes, Steve making sure to cook the bacon with at least three levels of done-ness, because Max liked her bacon cooked in the fires of Hell itself, but El preferred it less crunchy. He listened to Dustin shuffling around behind him, the clanking of ceramic on granite and scrape of utensils blended again into the din of conversation leaking in through the living room.

Steve was just about to scoop the last of the bacon out of the pan when he felt arms wrap tightly around his waist. The movement startled him, and he almost dropped the spatula into the grease-filled pan before he righted himself and set it down. He glanced under his arm to find Dustin clinging to him with his eyes shut firmly tight, the weight of his arms constricting like a snake squeezing the breath from his lungs. The tightness settled into his bones in the same way his conversations with Eddie and Robin had the day before, like he needed them, like spider veins of gold piecing all of his cracks back together.

“What’s up, kid?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I know you’re a different Steve, but I’m still glad you’re here. I missed you. I didn’t say it yesterday,” Dustin whispered back, just as softly, like a noise too loud would break the moment and shatter the bubble they’d made for themselves. "I just... I just wanted to tell you, just in case..." he trailed off.

Steve’s eyes pricked with emotion once again, and he brought a hand up to scratch at the bridge of his nose. He didn’t need to cry again, it was ridiculous at that point, but he wasn't the only one who thought this was all a dream and that made something squeeze in his chest. It seemed like that would happen a lot while he was here.

“I missed you, too, Dusty-Buns.” Dustin huffed at the nickname, his warm breath seeping through the back of Steve’s shirt, but he didn’t give a retort.

Once he let go they bled back into silence, putting the last of the bacon onto a serving platter, and carried all the food out into the dining room. Mike, Will, and Lukas were arguing on the couch while Eddie and Robin whispered their own argument to each other off to the side. Eddie cut himself off when he met Steve’s curious eye, a thin smile drifting over his face that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Before Steve could toss over a questioning look, Eddie turned away with a flourish to entertain the teenagers. He didn’t finish his conversation with Robin, but a glance to her didn’t give Steve any idea what they’d been talking about. She looked annoyed. With a roll of her eyes, she walked over to Steve and Dustin to help set food on the table.

They’d just placed the last dish down when a dull thud of a car door eased through the house. A few more followed, and then the door opened, the gentle voices of Jonathan and Nancy leaking through to the living room.

Max and El came barreling through the foyer, taking Steve by surprise as they wrapped their arms around him. He’d expected them to treat him the same as yesterday afternoon, the way the boys had when they’d entered the house earlier. The attention from them and from Dustin just a few minutes prior were gnawing their way under his skin.

“Careful, Mayfield, I’m gonna start thinking you’re glad to see me,” Steve said, the humor in his voice a desperate attempt to cut through the sentimentality like a knife.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” she mumbled, extracting herself from the hug and snatching a strip of bacon from the tray with her bare hands before even sitting down.

“I’m glad to see you,” El said, smiling up at him. She gave him one more squeeze tight before letting go, finding herself a spot at the table to load up a plate of food.

He shook himself from the stupor that held him since he wandered into the kitchen. He shouldn't be avoiding anyone while he had them, while they were right there in front of him. Steve clapped is hands to grab everyones attention, gesturing down to the food filled table.

"Breakfast is ready for whoever wants it!" he called, watching amusedly as the boys scrambled over themselves to find a dish before he even finished his sentence. As he watched over all the teens yelling and fighting over utensils, he couldn't help but notice the feeling bubbling around in his chest. It felt carbonated, like the bubbles could fiz up past his throat in a scream, or bubble up enough to carry him away, right off his feet. He'd been trying to dampen his emotions and drown them all out for so long that it took him a while to realize it was contentment, happiness.

Steve cleared his throat looking over the party, trying discreetly to cough all the bubbles out of his system like he could shake a soda until it was flat. This was dangerous, getting attached was dangerous, and right after breakfast they were all going to make plans to send Steve back, he couldn't be feeling happy right now because he'd just feel worse later — later when he has to march through whichever gate spat him out here, later when he has to look at everyones face as it closed forever and he never saw them again. It would be much worse later if he let himself bleed into these feelings and let them wash over him like he desperately wanted to. Instead, he fit a mask over his face he'd spent so long crafting and tried to let the conversations at the table wash over him instead.

He caught Eddie's eye for a moment, the man still seated on the couch, and looked away before he could read past the mask. The Steve Harrington of this world didn't seem to have one, maybe Eddie wouldn't be able to tell. There was a tap at his shoulder, and Robin stepped up beside him with a small plate of food.

"I know you didn't eat anything," she whispered, like it was a secret. She nudged the plate into his arm, urging him to take it. He was fizzing again, but only let it go so far as to bubble up into a soft smile, taking the plate and smothering the feeling with food.

They all sat and ate, Eddie wandering over once the kids seemed full. It didn't escape Steve that he was left with the scraps, whatever bits and pieces were scattered around the table. He wondered if that was a piece of Wayne, just like Steve couldn't hide the pieces of him he'd unwillingly stolen from his own parents. Sitting at the table, the morning bled easily into the afternoon, just as the pre-dawn light had bled unforgivingly into the chaos of the morning.

The kids were always bickering or chattering or throwing things around, it was easy to let it all fill the house and fill any stray thoughts Steve didn't want to take hold. That was, however, until Nancy cleared her throat and reminded everyone they were here for a reason.

The din was gone, the cacophony thoroughly stifled. Everyone in the room seemed to look at him, like he knew what was going on. Steve was never the plan guy, had always been the 'just stay here and watch the kids' guy, though he could never even do that.

"So, first we should check and see if any of the gates are open and then, if there aren't, see if any new ones have popped up," Dustin started, thankfully taking the attention away from Steve.

"I mean, obviously it would be one of the gates around here. It's probably either the gate near the pool, or the gate in the woods the demogorgon opened to get to Steve's house," Mike said, leaning back in his seat. He looked earnest, though his voice had a thorough overtone of 'duh' to it, as if any of this had a precedence.

"Well, okay, first, we don't even know if it's a previous gate to begin with! I just babbled a little about scars and like, what kind of metaphor even is that, really. We don't know if that's how the gates actually work!" Robin butted in. She looked a little panicked, like reality was setting in and she was getting nervous. Steve selfishly hoped she was nervous to lose him, like he was to lose her.

"It's a good theory," Nancy said firmly, daring Robin to contradict her. "Do we really know how this works? No, but we do know that Steve wandered in from the woods. Mike is probably right, and that means you are too. We should check the woods first."

They continued for a while, Dustin suggesting they check out the other gate locations around town just to make sure there aren't multiple open. Steve obviously couldn't join any team wandering around town, what with wearing a dead man's face and all. It looked like he wouldn't be on babysitting duty anymore, though obviously the only kid at this point was Erica, and she wasn't there. Steve wanted to keep it that way. The least amount of people they could tell before he left, the better. He hoped Hopper and Joyce wouldn't find out either. Not until after. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look them in the eye after what happened in his world.

They ended up agreeing on three groups. Jonathan, Will, and Mike would start at one end of the town; Dustin, Lucas, Nancy, and Max starting on the other. They would take compasses to see if it reacted to any of the previous gate locations, and meet somewhere in the middle. Steve, Robin, Eddie, and El would take the woods, since that was where they expected the gate to be and El would be able to check it in person. If no one found a gate, they would walkie and figure it out from there, El could try her void mind trick and surf the TV static or whatever it was that she did. If someone did find a gate... they would walkie and figure it out from there.

They still needed to know if it was safe, if it really was connected to Steve's world, if it was possible to pass through again or if it was even possible to close.

Steve let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. At least, it seemed, that it would take a while to fix the problem no matter what happened. Maybe he'd be able to stall more. Maybe he'd have more time. He hoped he would have more time.

—

Thank you thank you thank you to those still reading! I know we're kind of pattering out here, but I am still having so much fun writing this even though I've slowed down a bit lol I know how I want to end this now, which is exciting! I'm buzzing to get there

@devondespresso @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03 @bestwifehaver @mentallyundone @13catastrophic-blues @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @likelylad @aellafreya @wxrmland @shunna @fangirltofangod @howincrediblysapphicofyou

#I get a sick kind of pleasure every time I refer to this world with a water metaphor/simile #and the world steve is from with a desert metaphor #how many times can I do it in this series #micki find new metaphors challenge #hahahaha no #i will not #i have one trick #and this is it #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #the party #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #helpimstuckwriting

[theemporium]

[7.4k] when the girls team gets cut at your school, it takes a moment of weakness to agree to eddie munson's wild plan for you to try out for the hawkins football team. the catch? you have to pretend to be a boy.

masterlist

.

“WHAT?” 

A silence settled over the field that seemed nothing but deafening. Fourteen pairs of eyes were focused on one person only—that being a middle-aged man that looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but on the receiving end of multiple teenage girls’ wrath. 

“The school’s budget can no longer permit—” he started but he was quickly cut off. 

“They permitted it for years,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin and your frustration only growing with little to no answers from your coach. “What’s changed now?” 

“YOU’RE JUST NOT GOOD, SWEETHEART!” 

A series of laughs and snickers followed as your eyes shot over to the large group of boys who were waiting to start their practice. They stood there in their kits, a bag of footballs at their feet and smug smirks on their face. 

“Boys,” your coach scolded. 

“Oh yeah?” your eyes narrowed on the boy who spoke, some gangly sophomore you had seen on the bench more often than the field. “Then why does your captain think I’m better than half your team?” 

Everyone’s head snapped over to Billy Hargrove—centre striker and captain of Carmel High School Men’s Football Team. He stood there, ball propped on his hip and his sunglasses hiding his striking blue eyes. 

His jaw clenched a little—the only sign he heard what you said—before he let out a breathy chuckle. “Sweetheart, I think you—”

“I know what you said,” you cut him off, already sensing the excuse that was on the tip of his tongue. “You said it.” 

“Did you really?” One of the boys asked, all of them staring at their captain with varying looks of betrayal. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Billy answered eventually. 

You raised your brows. “You didn’t mean it? I can’t believe you right now, why are you lying?”

“Just…drop it, sweetheart,” he dismissed, not enjoying the way he was being humiliated in front of his team. 

“Kids—” the coach started but was quickly interrupted. 

“You’re a filthy liar, Hargrove,” you bit. 

“I said end of conversation, sweetheart,” Billy gritted through clenched teeth. 

“End of relationship, asshole,” you snapped back at him, a look of surprise washing over his features but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything—or anyone to say anything for that matter—as you stormed off the field, roughly budging your shoulder against his as you went. 

Football had been a passion for you for as long as you could remember. As a young girl running around the street with a ball you stole from a neighbour, to trying out for your first team in middle school, it had been a pivotal and monumental aspect of your life. 

You loved the sport. You adored it. Your family didn’t struggle for money, not by any means. But you knew a football scholarship into college would take you far in life, and help out the expenses in the long run too. 

You had been the first freshman to start off the bench on Carmel High School Women’s Football team and it was a badge of pride you took with you all the way to your senior year with the captain title. 

And now, you had the rug completely pulled from under your feet with nothing but rage and bitter humiliation fuelling you on your way home, two hours earlier than expected now that the field had been taken away from you due to the lack of an actual team anymore. 

“Honey? Is that you?” 

You let out a soft sigh when your mother’s voice echoed through the house, barely a step through the door when you heard her calling out. You closed the door behind you with a forceful thump, dumping your backpack and gym bag on the floor and kicking your shoes off before you made your way into the kitchen where your mother stood by the counter. 

There was a variety of papers and photos and other things you couldn’t quite comprehend sprawled over the counter, but you paid them no attention as you leaned against the opposite edge. 

“You’re home early,” your mother noted, her eyes darting away from the papers for a moment. “Coach cut practice short?” 

“More like cut the team,” you grumbled. 

“Oh,” your mother said. 

There was a pause that lingered between you, a moment of silence and tension that had always been there from the second you first kicked a football. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, letting out a sigh. 

“Just say it,” you said. 

“Say what?” she asked, playing dumb but you shot her a look that said more than enough. “Look, I know it’s upsetting and horrible but maybe this is your chance to branch out in your hobbies!” 

“I don’t wanna branch out,” you whined, well aware how you sounded but you couldn’t bring yourself to care how childish you sounded. “Mum, I want to play football—”

“And that’s gone now!” she said, sounding a little too enthusiastic about it. “I think I have just the thing for you to focus on now, something that you could enjoy more than football.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Like what?” 

“Well,” your mother started as she slowly pushed a small piece of card across the counter towards you. Your eyes fell to read the cursive writing as you held back your groan. “Maybe this could be the year you join—”

“I am not doing the debutante ball,” you gritted through clenched teeth. “It’s a ridiculous event with a bunch of snobby girls who have nothing better in their life to do.” 

“I was a debutante when I was your age,” she commented. 

“I’m not doing it,” you said as you turned on your heel, quick to escape what you were sure was going to dive into a full story about her time as a debutante girl. 

“Honey, I think you’d enjoy it more than you realise!” your mother called out from behind you. 

“I have homework to do!” you called back, not giving her a chance to reply before the sound of your bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the house. 

…

“Can you believe her?” 

You heard a vaguely disgruntled hum followed by a whispered ‘shit’ as you sat back on your hands, legs swinging back and forth from your position on the table. The dinner with your mother following the cut of your football team was unbearable to say the least. It was awkward, tense and it had taken less than two minutes since you sat down before she brought up the debutante ball once again. 

You had barely avoided her this morning as you rushed out the door, telling her you would be out for most of the day before grabbing your car keys and diving out of the front door whilst you could. You didn’t have a destination in mind when you got behind the wheel but almost instinctively you found yourself following the signs to Hawkins a little over thirty minutes away. 

Eddie Munson didn’t even question it when you pulled your car into his makeshift driveway, already sitting outside his trailer with a lazy grin, his hair tied back in a bun and a half-strung guitar on his lap. He simply waved his hand in greeting, nodding towards the table that had his tools and equipment set up on it and offered a lukewarm bottle of beer that you declined. 

“Yes actually,” Eddie said with a snort, lifting his head to look up at you. “She has been throwing the debutante ball at you every single year since you were old enough to participate.”

Your nose scrunched. “You think she’d catch the hint that I don’t care then.” 

“This is the first year you don’t actually have an excuse to say no to her though,” he pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your eyes narrowed at him. “Not that your team being cut isn’t the biggest disaster since—” 

“Save it,” you grumbled out. 

His face softened. “How have you been holding up?” 

“Fine,” you said instantly but you didn’t have to pretend with Eddie, he was the one person you knew you didn’t have to pretend around. “I’m pissed. I was upset before but now I’m just mad. I talked to Coach about trying out for the boys’ team and you know what he said?” 

“The same thing your shitty ex said?” Eddie quipped, his lips turning downwards. He never liked Billy. Not before you started dating and definitely not after. 

“He went on this massive spiel about how men are faster and stronger and that they didn’t need ‘wannabe players’ holding them back before the big game with Hawkins,” you said with a disbelieving scoff. You thought a conversation alone with your coach would be able to at least give you and the other girls a chance to prove yourself—to play so you could prove yourselves to college scouts. 

“Ouch,” Eddie winced.

“I hope they get trashed by Hawkins,” you sighed hopefully. “Again. God, I would pay so much money to see Billy cry again.”

“It’s a shame you couldn’t come to Hawkins,” Eddie commented casually as his focus returned to the strings he was currently replacing on his guitar. “Leave those bozos behind, hang out with me…it could be the life.”

“You miss me, Munson?” you teased lightly.

“Buckley misses you as well,” he retorted but he didn’t hide his smile. “Chrissy too.” 

“Maybe I should just transfer then,” you joked. 

“Maybe you should,” Eddie said, a little more seriously.

Your legs paused mid-swing, your brows furrowing together as you shot the boy a look. You were waiting for him to laugh, to just shrug off his suggestion and go back to whatever he was doing. But he didn’t. 

“And what would that accomplish?” you asked him. 

“You join the Hawkins team,” Eddie suggested, the strings now forgotten. “Prove to those bastards that you deserve to play.” 

“Hawkins doesn’t have a girls’ team,” you reminded him. 

“Then play for the boys’ team,” the boy retorted. “You try out for the Hawkins team, get on the team, trash your loser ex and boom! Everyone’s happy!” 

“They won’t let me try out for the boys team,” you said. 

“Unless…” Eddie trailed off, a wide grin stretching across his face. 

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. ���Unless what?” 

“Unless you pretend to be a boy!” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“No, hear me out!” And before you could say anything else, Eddie was jumping out of his seat as his hands moved around animatedly. “A trip to the Halloween store, a bit of practice and we could play you off as a dude. We enrol you in Hawkins, you get on the team, you trash Carmel and everyone’s happy.” There was a small pause. “Well, everyone but Carmel but you get what I mean.” 

“Eddie—” 

“You could be my cousin or something,” Eddie continued. 

“We don’t look that similar,” your nose scrunched up. “Like, at all.”

“Insanely distant cousins then,” he corrected himself. “Eddie and Kyle.” 

You raised your brows. “Kyle?” 

“What’s wrong with Kyle?” he questioned defensively. 

“Way to make me sound like a wet wipe of a boy,” you huffed out as you shook your head. “It wouldn’t work.” 

“Why? You scared?” Eddie goaded. And you knew full well what he was trying to do. You just hated that it was working. 

You pressed your lips together. “You think it will work?” 

“I think I could make you into one hunky dude,” Eddie replied with a grin on his face. 

His guitar remained half-strung, leaning against the side of the trailer as the boy began running around, ready to make his vision come true and make you look like a boy. 

…

“You want to transfer to Hawkins?” 

You winced at the sound of cutlery clattering onto the ceramic plates. The dinner had once again been awkward before you dropped the transfer bomb on your mother, who all but let out a screech when the words left your lips. 

“I just think—”

“That’s at least thirty minutes away!” your mother shook her head. 

You let out a sigh. “I know but—”

“What could you possibly need to transfer to Hawkins for?” she questioned, her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed together. “In your senior year, nonetheless!” 

You had known that convincing your mother was going to be difficult. You had said as much to Eddie as you both discussed your game plan. However, now sitting across from your mother who has a disapproving frown on her face, you underestimated just how difficult she would be. 

“I have friends in Hawkins,” you said, although a little lamely considering her frown only deepened. 

“And you have friends in Carmel too, sweetie,” she pointed out and placed her utensils down. “What about Billy? Surely he will—” 

“Me and Billy broke up,” you said bluntly and your mother went silent for a few moments. 

“But he was such a nice boy,” she said eventually, as if that was enough for you to question your decision to break up with him. “Did you do something?” 

“I broke up with him,” you gritted out before letting out a sigh. “Look, I have more friends in Hawkins and I think the change of scenery would be nice. I’ve filled out most of the paperwork and—” 

“Which friends?” 

“You know, Eddie and—” But you were unable to finish your sentence when she let out a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat. 

“Edward,” she muttered under her breath. “How could I forget! Of course you’d want to move there because of him? Is he behind this? Is he the reason you ended things with Billy?” 

Your mother was never a fan of Eddie, not since you both became friends at a local summer camp you attended when you were an awkward middle schooler with little to no social skills and he was just as hopeless. You had spent three years at that camp, making a best friend you were lucky enough to live only thirty minutes away from. 

But your mother hated Eddie, even if she would never admit as much. She thought he looked like a wannabe thug when he was eleven years old with a buzzcut and gangly limbs. She thought he was a crazed freak when he got older, grew his hair out and decorated his skin with a few tattoos. No matter what he did, nothing about Eddie Munson would ever win her over. 

Which wasn’t helping your game plan at all. 

So, you tried a different approach. 

“You see, the truth is—” you paused, the words feeling a little bitter and difficult to pass your lips. “Eddie has a girlfriend. Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham.” 

Your mother’s eyes instantly lit up in recognition. 

“She goes to Hawkins too,” you continued but you already knew you had her where you wanted her—hook, line and sinker. “I was talking to her about her debutante experiences and she said she would mentor me—”

“Yes, yes, yes!” your mother exclaimed excitedly as she clapped her hands together. She shot up from her seat, quickly rounding the table until she was close enough to grab your hands. “Oh, this will be brilliant! Chrissy Cunningham is a delightful young lady, she will help you rise to the top!” 

You bit your own tongue to hold back the witty comment that wanted to slip out. “So, you’ll let me transfer?” 

Your mother laughed. “Of course, honey! Just give me the papers and I’ll sign them right away!” 

And just like that, the first step of your plan was in motion. 

…

“I look stupid.”

“You look like a hunk!” 

“I look like a prepubescent boy!”

“Maybe that’s the look I was going for.”

You shot Eddie a look through the mirror, your lack of amusement painfully clear on your face. You were suddenly questioning how you ever let the boy persuade you into this plan, let alone be the person to give you the makeover you needed to pull off being a boy in Hawkins High. 

“I don’t know, she does kinda looks like an eight year old boy,” a voice from the other side of you sounded, and you found Robin looking contemplatively at you. “Like a freakishly tall eight year old boy.” 

Your nose scrunched. “I’m not even that tall.” 

“Yeah but no eight year old is above four feet,” she retorted and you couldn’t exactly disagree. 

“I think she looks great!” A very optimistic Chrissy said from the other side of the room, giving you a bright smile. “You make a hot guy, babe.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Should I be worried about you stealing my girlfriend?” 

“Yes.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

Your eyes glanced back at yourself in the mirror. The wig on your head was not the best quality, but it was Party City’s finest and it would have to do. The fake sideburns sticking to your cheeks looked a bit wonky, and so did the bushy eyebrows you had glued on over your real ones. But all and all, you didn’t think you looked too different from a lot of the teenage boys Hawkins had. 

“You guys really think this will work?” you murmured, the doubt clear in your voice. 

“Hey, you’ve got this,” Robin spoke up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “You’re gonna go in there, you’re gonna smash it, and you’re gonna prove them all wrong.”

“Hell yeah she is!” Eddie cheered as he clapped his hands together. “Our girl is gonna be running the football team!” 

“That’s…that’s not how it works,” you sighed, but there was still a smile on your face. 

“Plus, I’ll be there,” Chrissy supplied, and you briefly glanced down at her cheerleader uniform. “We can make a signal. If you need help, I can…do something!” 

You snorted. “Thanks, Chris.” 

“Anytime,” she grinned back at you. 

But your friends were right. You could do this. You could walk into Hawkins High, try out for the team and prove a point to the guys back in Carmel and other people who doubted you. You were good enough to play football, and you deserved to play football. 

And you weren’t going to stop until you were proven right. 

…

“I can’t do this.”

You quickly turned on your heel, ready to sprint in the opposite direction of the school that was looming in front of you. But two hands quickly planted themselves on your shoulders, stopping you from running away and instead turning you back towards the school. 

“Yes, you can,” Eddie said and squeezed your shoulders. “We’ve practised. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But this is different,” you hissed under your breath. “It’s real now!” 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighed as he gave you a pointed look. 

“I can’t do this, Eddie,” you said and shook your head. 

“Yes, you can,” he assured you and gave you a reassuring smile. “Now, game plan. You’re gonna walk in there, do all that shitty admin stuff and then you’re gonna walk over to the team’s table in the cafeteria at the club fair and sign up for tryouts.” 

“And you’ll be right by my side the whole time?” you asked in a hopeful voice. 

“Nice try,” he snorted and shook his head. “I have to be at the Hellfire Club table.” 

“Dickhead,” you grumbled. 

“You’ll be fine!” Eddie assured you once again. “What can go wrong?” 

You shot him a look. 

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most encouraging thing to say,” he said with a sheepish smile on his face. “You’ll be fine. So fine. Seriously, what could go wrong?” 

“So much, Eddie, so much,” you deadpanned. 

“God, you’ve got an attitude,” Eddie muttered, only wincing slightly when you reached out to slap his arm. “Okay, okay! Ouch! You’ll be fine if you keep your hands to yourself!” 

“I hate you for persuading me to do this,” you told him, glancing down at your outfit once again. To be frank, you looked dumb. Your clothes were awkwardly baggy in hopes of covering up any potential clue that you weren’t a boy. Along with the itchy wig and the dodgy sideburns Eddie was insistent pulled the look together, you wondered if you were about to walk in and become the laughing stock of Hawkins High. 

“Well, you’re gonna love me when it works,” Eddie retorted before he pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Now go forth, young padawan, and make me proud.”

Your nose scrunched up. “What the fuck is a padawan?”

“I—” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind, just go!” 

He had all but shoved your backpack into your chest before he pushed you towards the door, leaving you alone in the lion’s den—or more fittingly, the tiger’s den—with no fucking clue where you were going or what you were doing. You insisted he at least walk you to the principal’s office, but Eddie rolled his eyes as he muttered something about some kid called Dustin getting pissy with him for being late before leaving you on your own.

Hawkins High, as it would turn out, was deceivingly big. For a small town with one single high school, you didn’t expect the hallways to be so busy, or the crowds of students to be so rough as they barged past each other. You clung onto your backpack, trying to find anything that would tell you where the principal’s office or even the reception was. 

Fuck you, Eddie Munson. 

You were seconds away from giving up, wondering if this was a sign from the universe that you should just give up and head back to Carmel before you make a fool of yourself when you turned a corner, only to find yourself clashing with another body. 

“Oh shit!” 

You hit the floor with a groan, a dull pain in your tailbone that you tried to ignore as you lifted your head to see who you had just walked into (on your first fucking day). You found a girl staring back at you with a sheepish expression on her face. 

“I am so sorry,” she apologised before she shuffled onto her knees, starting to pick up the stray books and sheets of paper that fell out of your backpack and her arms. You blinked, taking in the brown, mousy hair that she tucked behind her ear and the soft features of her face. Something about her felt familiar but you couldn’t remember what. “I should have looked where I was going.” 

“It’s fine,” you said to her, shaking your head as you began to give her a hand. 

“Count on me to bump into the new guy on his first day,” she teased, flashing you a smile and your eyes widened slightly. 

“Uh, yeah!” You cleared your throat, making a point to lower your voice as you continued. “That’s me! The new guy! Definitely the new guy! Me! I am he!”

She tilted her head, smiling at the way your cheeks flushed. “Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy Wheeler. The same Nancy Wheeler that Eddie had told you ran the school newspaper and was constantly looking for a new scoop to expose. The same Nancy Wheeler that was the older sister of one of Eddie’s kids in his little club. That’s why she looked so familiar. 

You needed to get away from her. And you needed to get away from her fast. The last thing you needed was an expose being written about you on your first week here.

“Well, Nancy, do you think you could tell a guy where the principal’s office is?” you asked, hoping that you weren’t sounding too blunt as you scrambled to stand up, clutching onto the straps of your backpack like a lifeline. 

“Uh yeah, it’s just down the hallway to your right,” she said, seeming to look contemplative as she answered. “I could take you—”

“No worries! Uh, thanks though!” you called out to her as you quickly walked around her, keeping your head down as you sped down the hallway. You glanced over your shoulder, only to find her standing in the same spot, staring at you. You whirled your head back around, clenching your hands into fists around your backpack straps. “Shit.”

Five minutes alone and you were already fucking up. 

You were going to kill Eddie Munson.

…

The cafeteria looked like something out of a Discovery Channel documentary.

Your backpack and everything else you had brought with you had been shoved into your locker that took far too long to find. With a glance at the map before you shoved it between your calculus and biology textbook, you had managed to memorise the route to the cafeteria which led to your current predicament. 

It was fucking havoc. 

If you thought the hallways were bad, this was ten times worse. Things were being thrown around, people were packed in like sardines as they wandered from stall to stall, table to table. You could hear someone playing a trombone on the other side of the room, you could hear cheerleaders chanting something in another corner, and you could have sworn you saw a football flying over your head at some point. 

Not for the first time today, you had a very strong urge to wrap your hands around your best friend’s neck.

“It will be easy,” you muttered to yourself as you began pushing your way through the crowd, mimicking Eddie’s voice as best you could. “You’ll be fine. What could go wrong? Blah blah blah, I’m Eddie Munson and I’m an idiot.”

Some students beside you shot you an odd look, to which you simply smiled and gave them an awkward wave until they turned back around. You let out a small groan, pressing your lips together and continued to push your way through the crowd until you found the table you were looking for. 

HAWKINS HIGH FOOTBALL TEAM

SIGN UP FOR TRYOUTS NOW

Shit. It was real now. 

Your eyes glanced over the crowd of boys at the table and memories of Billy’s whines and complaints came rushing back to you. You recognised a few of the players, their names on the tip of your tongue but there was one you knew for sure—one you knew all too fucking well because he was the bane of your ex-boyfriend’s existence, and in turn, the bane of yours for a while too. 

Steve Harrington. Captain of the Hawkins team. Centre striker. Number sixteen on the field. And the same man who managed to make your ex-boyfriend whine like a baby after every single altercation with the boy.

And he was sitting in the middle of the table, right across from the tryouts sign up sheet, with shades over his eyes and his arms crossed over his chest, something quite like douchebag and asshole mixed together to create the boy in front of you. It was easy for you to see why Billy hated his guts.

Who even wore sunglasses inside?

“Oi, kid, you gonna sign up?” 

You blinked, glancing over your shoulder before your eyes fell back on the table, finding them all staring straight at you. “Me?” 

The boy next to Steve, a brunette with freckles covering his face, snorted in response. “Yes, you, freshman.” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m a senior.” 

The boy’s laughing stopped as he stared at you. “Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

The silence lasted a few beats before Steve cleared his throat, a pen held between his fingers as he aimlessly tapped it against the table. He leaned back in his chair and you had an odd feeling that behind those dark shades he was examining you, analysing you from head to toe. 

It took every lick of self-restraint to not squirm under his gaze. 

“So, senior, you signing up or not?” Steve spoke up, and it hit you that this was the first time you could actually put a voice to his face—or at least a voice that wasn’t yelling at your boyfriend on the field.

Ex-boyfriend, you corrected yourself. Billy is very much your ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat a little. “Yeah, I am.”

Steve smirked like the idea amused him. 

“Name?”

And then your brain went fucking blank. 

You had a name. You had thought one out. You even put it on the damn forms the school had given you to fill out so that it would be plastered all over your record. But now, standing in front of Steve Harrington and the rest of the football team, your brain was fucking empty with not a single thought in sight.

“I asked for your name, kid,” Steve spoke up again, his brows furrowed together slightly. “Not your social security number. It’s not a difficult question.”

“Kyle!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. 

“Kyle,” Steve repeated slowly. 

“Yes?” you replied, trying and—quite honestly—failing to hide the grimace on your face. Of course the one fucking name that comes to your mind had to be the one you gave Eddie so much shit for.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” Steve commented and you bit your tongue. You dug your grave, you may as well lay in it now.

“No, that’s…that’s my name!” you said with a strained smile on your face. “Kyle!” 

“Kyle…” Steve trailed off. 

“Munson,” you said. 

You already took two of his shitty ideas to heart, you may as well take a third.

But the second the surname left your lips, a look of disgust and distaste crossed their faces in seconds. And the memory of Eddie muttering his own distaste for the jocks under his breath during the drive to school came to mind.

“You’re related to Freak Munson?” The freckled boy next to Steve sneered. 

“Woah, Tommy,” Steve murmured, pushing the boy back in his seat with a small shove to his chest. He then turned back to you, his brows raised in question. “So? Are you?”

A part of you wanted to say yes. You wanted to say yes and you wanted to tell them all to shove their team up their asses because Eddie was an amazing guy. You knew what people said about him, what they assumed about him and it made something protective flare in your chest. 

But, as much as it pained you to admit, you couldn’t start defending Eddie on your first day. You had a goal in mind, one that your best friend had worked hard for too. You couldn’t let that all go to waste because of some shitty comments they made about a boy they didn’t know, and would never have the privilege of knowing. 

“What? No! I don’t even know who that is,” you said to them with a dismissive flick of your hand. “You didn’t let me finish.” 

“Right,” Steve murmured. 

“My name is Kyle Munson-Gallagher,” you said with a voice you hoped held enough conviction.

“Munson-Gallagher,” Steve repeated with a frown.

“It’s a very common name,” you said to him with a nod. “In…Ireland.”

“You’re Irish?” 

“Distantly.” 

“Right,” Steve repeated before he scribbled your name down on the sheet, glancing down at the paper like it offended him. And suddenly you were glad you couldn’t see his eyes. “Well, see you at tryouts, Kyle Munson-Gallagher.”

“I’ll be there!” 

This time you were hoping a wormhole would open up in the ground beneath you and swallow you whole the second you turned your back to the table and walked away. 

Unfortunately, your prayers remained unanswered. 

…

For a split second, you were filled with a sense of confidence that this crazy, absurd plan would work just like Eddie had insisted it would. That confidence left as fast as it came the second you stepped onto the field. 

You were shit.

The practice was shit. 

Everything was shit. 

It felt a bit like being stabbed in the stomach by the time the coach blew the whistle and the players started streaming off the field. But when your name was called out and you had a second-line jersey thrown at your face? Yeah, that was the knife being twisted. 

“This was a bad idea,” you repeated for what felt like the millionth time in the last twenty-four hours as you slumped down on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, groaning as you pulled the wig off your head and finally ran your fingers through your scalp. “I should just quit now.”

“It can’t have been that bad,” Eddie started but quickly fell quiet when you shot him a look. The blonde in his lap squirmed a little before flashing you a sheepish smile.

“It wasn’t…great but at least it wasn’t catastrophic,” Chrissy supplied, and you almost felt bad for snapping when she was being so nice.

“I’ve been benched,” you deadpanned. “Indefinitely.”

“Yeah, that does put a damper on the plan,” Robin murmured from her spot beside you on the couch. 

“At this rate, I’ll have a front row seat to Steve and Billy’s cat fight and nothing else,” you grumbled. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Eddie teased. 

“Eddie,” Chrissy chastised, slapping his chest lightly. 

“M’sorry,” he murmured before letting out a sigh. “Look, it’s one practice. You have time to get on the field. Maybe you just need to bond with the team a bit.”

“And how would I do that?” 

“You could sit with them at lunch,” Chrissy suggested. “Maybe it would help seeing you as part of the team!”

“Willingly sit there for an hour when they could figure out I’m a fraud?” you retorted, sarcasm dripping from your words. “I don’t think the crash course in being a boy is gonna get me through lunch.”

“A man,” Eddie corrected, lifting his chin slightly. “And you’ll be fine. We have prepared you for this.”

“Why can’t I just sit with you?” you whined, knowing full well you sounded like a child but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Because that’s social suicide, honey, and it’s gonna get you nowhere,” Robin snorted. “You need those airheads to like you, not act like you’re dirt under their shoes.” 

“Not sure I even wanna be friends with them,” you huffed out.

“Listen,” Eddie spoke up, his face softening a little and it made your chest tighten a little. It wasn’t an expression you were used to when it came to him. “I get it. You wanna stand up for us, but we can handle ourselves. This is your chance to show Carmel what you’re made of. Don’t blow it because of some shitty comments a bunch of jocks make.” 

You sighed, but you knew he was right. It didn’t make you feel much better though, knowing what guys like them thought about people like Eddie and Robin. Even Chrissy, who they all but shunned most of the time because of her relationship with Eddie. 

You didn’t like it. Not one bit. 

But it was a price you’d have to pay for the greater good.

“Fine,” you breathed out. “I’ll sit with them at lunch.”

…

“I really can’t do this.” 

You gripped the lunch tray in your hands, ignoring the twist of discomfort in your stomach as you glanced across the cafeteria to where the football team were currently sitting at their usual table. Or maybe the nausea was related to the mushed blobs on your plate that the school was trying to pass off as edible. 

Either one, really. 

“Yes, you can,” Chrissy reassured you, giving you a little nudge with her shoulder. “You’ll do amazing.”

“Chris,” you murmured but she still smiled at you.

“C’mon, you’ve got this, Kyle!” 

Your nose scrunched up. “God, I should’ve chosen a different name.” 

You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders back before you began making your way to the team’s table. You ignored the odd looks you received from other students as you weaved through tables, narrowly avoiding people bustling through the cafeteria until you stood at the end of the table, gripping the tray in your hands so tight you were surprised it didn’t snap in half.

“What’s up, bros!” You exclaimed as you approached the table, noting how conversation instantly came to a halt with your presence. “Brothers?” The silence continued. “Brethren?” 

“Can we help you?” It was Tommy who spoke up, a distasteful look painted across his freckled face. You didn’t even need Eddie or Robin for them to look at you like dirt under your shoe.

“Just…team bonding, bro!” you said with a smile on your face. 

The boys on the table glanced at each other, somewhat disturbed and confused expressions on their faces. But it was Steve who spoke up after clearing his throat a little. 

“He’s a part of the team,” Steve said as he nodded towards an empty spot across from him. “Make some room for him.”

“Dude—” Another boy—you believed his name was Jason—started but Steve just shushed him.

“Sit down, Kyle,” the captain said with a slightly strained smile.

The tension lingering over the table was awkward at best. You were practically an outsider who had shoved themselves into their inner circle, and now the whole dynamic had shifted. The cafeteria around you bustled on as usual, going on as usual. But this table seemed…stagnant. 

“So,” You started, clearing your throat. “When did you guys…get into football?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy grumbled as he stabbed his fork into a pile of what you assumed was meant to be mashed potatoes. 

“I see small talk isn’t a thing here,” you commented, your eyes glancing over to the table next to you. You saw Chrissy sat with his cheer squad, giving you a thumbs up and reassuring smile. Yet, nothing about the last ten minutes had felt reassuring at all.

It was another boy, sitting beside Jason, who spoke up. “What school did you transfer from again?”

You froze.

Steve frowned a little, looking at you with a curious expression. “Yeah, you never said where you were from.” 

“I didn’t?” you laughed, somewhat nervously. “I’m pretty sure I did.” 

“No, I don’t think you did,” Steve said with a shake of his head.

“Right,” you murmured, clearing your throat. “I, uh, I’m from Arizona!”

Steve raised his brows. “Arizona?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a nod. “I mean moving here, it was between Hawkins or living with some family in Carmel so—” 

A collective series of disgusted noises spread across the table, some of the boys even throwing their forks down on their trays as they did. You tried to hide your surprise, though it shouldn’t have been much of a shock considering the team in Carmel were no better with their attitude towards the Hawkins boys. 

“You made the right choice,” Steve scoffed. “Those guys are a bunch of pricks.”

And you aren’t? 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “My cousin has told me some stories about their team.”

“They are dirty cheats,” Jason piped up. “Especially Hargrove.”

“Didn’t stop our boy Steve here from making him cry though,” Tommy cackled, slapping his captain on the back.

Your eyes widened. “That was you?” 

Steve smiled, though it seemed a bit sheepish. “Billy Hargrove got what he deserved.” 

“You can say that again,” you grumbled.

“You know him?” Steve asked.

You paused. “Oh yeah, no, my cousin…she, uh, dated him. She’s told me a bunch about him.” 

“Your cousin has bad taste,” another one of the boys commented.

“She had her reasons for dating him,” you defended, straightening up in your seat a little.

“Guess Hargrove has some magical dick then,” Tommy snorted. 

Your cheeks flushed a little in response. The last thing you needed was to be shredded to pieces for your poor choice in men.

However, before you could even attempt to change the conversation yourself, you felt a hand on your shoulder and all the conversation at the table halted once again. You tore your eyes away from your tray, glancing over your shoulder to find Nancy Wheeler staring back at you. 

“Hey, it’s you again,” she smiled, like her words were some shared secret between you.

“Nancy,” you murmured in surprise, before deepening your voice again. “Hey. Hi.” 

“I never knew you were a part of the team,” she said as her eyes glanced over at the others sitting at the table. “Taking care of the new kid, Harrington?”

You turned to look at Steve, only to find him staring at Nancy Wheeler like a lost cause. His cheeks were flushed and his lips parted as he tried to mouth the words of a reply, though no sound came out. 

“Yeah, he is,” you said, your eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion as Steve continued to stare blankly at the girl before you turned to face her again. 

“I’m glad,” Nancy’s smile softened a little when she looked down at you again. “I’ll see you at the next game, yeah?”

“Uh, sure,” you smiled back, a little tight-lipped but the girl didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

Instead, Nancy Wheeler waved you goodbye before disappearing into the throng of students stuffed into the cafeteria until you could barely see her amongst the chaos. You turned back around, reaching for your fork, only to pause when you found half the team glaring at you, wide eyed and comically feral.

“You good there?” 

“You never told us you knew Nancy Wheeler,” Steve hissed, leaning across the table with his hands splayed between your trays.

“I didn’t realise it was a big deal,” you retorted, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I’ve only spoken to her a few times.”

“A few times?” Steve wheezed.

You watched him closely for a few seconds before you grinned. “You got a crush on her, Harrington?”

“What?” Steve scoffed and waved you off dismissively. “Me? Crushing on Nancy Wheeler? As if!”

You raised your brows. “She’s hot, I wouldn’t—”

“Woah, Nancy is not hot,” Steve interrupted with a frown. “She’s…she’s beautiful and amazing and crazy smart and—”

“And totally your crush,” you noted as you leaned back in your seat. “Why do you not just ask her out?” 

“Because he can’t even fucking talk to her,” Tommy snorted. “He becomes a little bitch around Nancy Wheeler.” 

“Shut up,” Steve groaned, shoving his friend with his shoulder as he tried to pretend his cheeks weren’t burning a bright blushing pink. 

You didn’t say anything for the rest of lunch, just observing and keeping mostly to yourself as the other boys in the team joked and poked fun at their captain. But your mind was reeling. This was your way in, this was your chance to get a step closer to doing what you came here for. 

The answer to all your problems was your ex-boyfriend’s worst fucking nightmare. 

The bell was a high-pitched shrill that echoed through the school, students already making their way to their lockers and their next classes. But you held back, biding your time until Steve parted ways from the rest of the team and began making his way towards his locker. 

You quickly rushed after him, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and tugging slightly to catch his attention.

Steve turned around, a confused frown painted on his face as he glanced down at you. “Kyle, hey. Uh, what’s up?”

“I have a proposition for you,” you stated bluntly.

Steve blinked. “Huh?”

“A proposition, a deal, whatever you wanna call it,” you continued, your face remaining serious as you spoke.

He glanced around at the emptying corridor around you before he nodded. “And what is this proposition?” 

“I help you get Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve’s eyes widened comically large. “What?”

“I can help you get Nancy Wheeler,” you repeated. “You know, talk you up and all that jazz.”

“You’d do that?” Steve questioned, sounding dubious.

“For a price.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” 

You smiled at him, an innocent and kind smile that would’ve seemed normal if it weren’t for the glint of something darker, something more mischievous in your eyes. “I want you to help me get on the team for the Carmel match.”

Steve blinked. “You are on the team.”

“I want to be on the field, Harrington,” you deadpanned. “I need to be on the field.” 

“Why?” Steve asked. 

“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours about that,” you muttered, watching him frown a little at your words. You cleared your throat before quickly continuing. “Do we have a deal?”

Steve glanced down at the hand you extended out to him. “You really think you can get Nancy Wheeler to like me?”

“I know what girls like, Steve, trust me,” you said as you tried to bite back your smirk. “Do we have a deal?”

Steve sighed before he shook your hand, his palm completely engulfing yours. 

“We have a deal, Kyle.” 

.

#she's the man au #steve harrington #stanger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things oneshot

[estrellami-1]

Star baby when you have time could we please have more of the title screen fic? I’m so invested in what you’re going to do with eddie being the streamer Steve has been watching, will eddie say something on his streams that lets Steve know it’s eddie? Will steve keep coming back to the game store to play/ hang out with eddie? This is a cute one you could do a million parts and I would be on board for every one 💜

Darling! I’m SO sorry to keep you waiting!! Hopefully this meets your expectations. ❤️

Title Screen - Part 2

Steve doesn’t come back in just for Eddie, he swears.

It doesn’t hurt, of course, that Eddie lights up when the little bell above the door jingles. “Steve!” He grins. “Hey, what’re you here for?”

Steve flushes down to his toes, it feels like. “Feel free to tell me if I’m abusing some policy or whatever-”

Eddie waves him off and over to the console. “It’s still set up for you! Any plans for today?”

“I’d like to fish,” Steve admits. “Maybe trade with someone.”

Eddie hums. “Your first step in world domination?”

Steve snorts. “Exactly.”

They talk as Steve plays, and Eddie is even able to help him some.

Steve adamantly does not think about the thump in his chest every time he makes Eddie laugh.

He goes back home later and gets back on YouTube. His traitorous brain is deciding to take Eddie’s knowledge as a challenge, so he finds HFClub again and clicks on the next video he hasn’t seen.

“Oh, Dingus,” Robin sings, appearing in his doorway. She grins, a self-satisfied smirk of a thing, when she hears the audio. “Caesar salad sound good for dinner?”

Steve hums, pauses the video, lets his phone drop onto his chest. “D’you want me to help chop things?”

Robin smiles at him. “If you cut the chicken I’ll love you forever.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes. “You just don’t like touching raw chicken.”

“It’s slimy!” Robin defends herself. She flaps her hand at him as she turns to head to the kitchen. “Bring your phone, I wanna see what you’re watching, too.”

Steve snorts again, but does as she asks. The video plays, then the next one, and at one point the narrator laughs, and something about it sounds familiar. He wonders if he’s thinking of Robin’s laugh, but hers is rather nasally and giggly, and while the narrator’s is definitely a giggle, it’s got a little snort at the end that Robin doesn’t have.

He wonders if it sounds like one of his kids, but nothing’s ringing a bell, so he finally lets it go in favor of letting Robin’s rambling wash over him.

He restrains himself the next day—the next week, really—but eventually he does have to go back.

Eddie’s there again, grinning at him through the window. “Hey, Steve!” He bounces over and leans against a shelf. “And what brings you in today? More world domination?”

Steve laughs. “Maybe,” he allows. “I’m actually here for Dustin’s birthday present, and I’m hoping you can help, even if you don’t have it. He was talking about some kind of figurine, the last time we talked? Something based on one of your campaigns, I think.”

“Oh!” Eddie grins and scampers further into the shop. “The Hellrider Badge!” He digs through a bin and holds something up. “Not a figurine, it’s for his costume. And may I suggest…” he digs through another bin and unearths a pouch, opening it and pouring coins into his hand. “Barovian coins!”

Steve blinks and holds out his hand, looking at the badge and coins before smiling up at Eddie. “I’m gonna admit, I have no idea what any of this is for, but I’m willing to trust you.” He hands the items back to Eddie, who grins and takes them behind the counter.

“High praise, I’ll try my best to live up to it. You wanna pay now and go? Or I can hold these for later… maybe after a certain game?”

Steve chuckles. “How bored do you get here?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s usually pretty empty. It definitely has its moments, though.”

Steve snorts. “I don’t doubt it.” He wanders over to the counter. “What’s your craziest story?”

Eddie hums in thought. “Probably the time that one guy threatened arson because we didn’t have what he wanted.”

Steve’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I believe his exact words were I’ll burn this place to the ground. And he wasn’t kidding, either, we had to get the police involved. Thankfully this was back when my uncle still worked here, so it wasn’t just one of us here with Psycho, y’know?”

“Your uncle used to work here? That’s cool.”

“I- yeah? He- I- um.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, blush rising on his cheeks. “He owned it? And then I took over when he retired.”

Steve laughs. “So that’s why you’re always here!”

Eddie chuckles. “Was that question plaguing you? You could’ve asked.”

Steve just shrugs, smirking as he says, “it added to the mystery.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #titlescreen #asks #my asks #writing #starambles

[corroded-hellfire]

Eddie x girlfriend!Reader where Eddie reenacts the famous boxers dance scene from Risky Business and Reader walks in and catches him? So maybe he pulls her in and dances with her? It would be so so so cute 💚💚 xo @munson-blurbs 💚

Oh, you mean the scene from the Jonas Brothers music video? Anything for you, my Bug! Please enjoy this adorable nerdy man.

Words: 1.3k

Curled up on the couch in your home, you’ve got a cozy blanket on and your favorite book in your lap. It’s a nice quiet evening, your parents out to dinner with some old friends, and your boyfriend here to keep you company. He insisted that he could wash and dry the dishes himself, practically pushing you out of the kitchen. So, you've settled yourself here in your favorite spot. It wasn’t quite cold enough to get the fireplace going, so you’d settled for the teal knitted blanket hanging over the back of the couch. 

You hear footsteps down the hallway, near the kitchen at the back of the house. You expect to see Eddie pop in the room any second, but there just continue to be footfalls in that direction. There wasn’t anything else in the house over there other than your parents’ room. After a few moments, you know you hear Eddie’s footsteps coming your way. Until they halt. Putting your bookmark into your current page, you quit trying to reread the same page over for a fourth time and try to figure out what’s going on down the hall. There’s a soft click and it sounds like when you open the cabinet for your stereo system. The sound of a record slipping free catches your attention and you lean forward in your seat. The unmistakable sound of a record being loaded and the needle taking its place have you expecting to hear music any moment now. Relaxing back against your comfy seat and kicking up your feet on the coffee table, you’re proven to be right. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie slides into view, white socks letting him glide down the hardwood floor. His back is facing you, and normally you would be staring at his ass when you get this vantage point, but the pink button up shirt he’s wearing goes down far enough that you can only see the bottom of his boxers. Your dad’s pink button up shirt, you notice. Now all the footsteps make more sense. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie spins around, holding the spatula he must’ve cleaned after you used it to make dinner. He brings it up to his mouth, like a microphone, as the lyrics begin.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie saunters into the room, mouthing the words into his pseudo-microphone, taking his time in walking right past you, towards the fireplace. Your lips are pressed together so tightly in an effort not to laugh. But you can’t help but sneak out a giggle as Eddie stands at the fireplace, hips swaying back and forth. Your eyes are glued to his ass now, of course. 

Don't try to take me to a disco

You'll never even get me out on the floor

In ten minutes I'll be late for the door

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie drops the spatula mic on the fireplace mantle and snatches up the poker, holding it low across his hips as if he’s playing it like a guitar. He hops up on the coffee table, pale hairy legs supported by his socked feet on either side of it as he keeps up his faux musical performance. He strums his fake guitar, letting his hips gyrate a little before leaping off the table and landing down on the floor, on his knees. 

Still like that old time rock 'n' roll

That kind of music just soothes the soul

I reminisce about the days of old

With that old time rock 'n' roll (oh)

Eddie leans back, now bringing the poker up to his mouth in lieu of a microphone, tossing his head from side to side as he gets into the song. Stretching up on his knees, he continues lip synching until the verse ends. Letting the fire poker fall to the carpet, Eddie bounces to his feet and makes his way in your direction. Dropping down to the couch, Eddie starts to jolt his body all around, looking like he got tased. Amusement colors your eyes as you watch him, and he leans back to drop his head in your lap. You’ve barely had time to run your fingers through his bangs when he’s flipping around on to his stomach, still jerking his body about. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your thigh before pushing himself off the couch. He’s hopping on the balls of his feet as he reaches down for your hands, tugging on them. You relent, standing up to join whatever show your adorable boyfriend is putting on. 

Now, the guitar solo is drifting in from the stereo in the hall, and Eddie pops the pink collar on his shirt. You don’t have a button up shirt of your own, but you spot the flannel Eddie discarded before dinner hanging over the banister leading upstairs. Quick to strip yourself down to your bra and panties—both white, which are more appropriate for reenacting the movie scene rather than Eddie’s blue striped boxers—you kick your clothes behind the couch and go to grab Eddie’s flannel. The red and black material smells just like him, of weed and minty shampoo, making you consider stealing it from him. You button it up most of the way, leaving the few top ones open just like Eddie had. Now you’re both standing there in nothing but your underwear, socks, and a button up. 

Won't go to hear 'em play a tango

I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul

There's only one sure way to get me to go

Start playing old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie grabs your hips and pulls your body against his, the two of you rocking your hips together, in time to the music. Holding one of his arms securely around your back, Eddie dips you down, causing you to squeal. He grins as he brings you back up again. You’re both laughing as you dance together, Eddie’s curls flying everywhere every time he starts to headbang. 

Call me a relic, call me what you will

Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

The two of you jump and dance around with one another for the rest of the song, both of you out of breath by the time it ends. Laughing, you sling your arms around Eddie’s middle and bury your face in his neck. 

“Should I start calling you ‘Tom’ now?” you ask. “Or ‘Mr. Cruise?’”

“Only if I can call you ‘Ms. Jackson’ if I’m nasty.”

You huff a laugh against his skin. “Deal. Can't believe you’re wearing one of my dad’s shirts.”

“I know, right? It’s too fancy; making my skin crawl. Need my t-shirt back as soon as possible.”

“Or…” you drawl out, pointer finger tracing shapes just below his Adam’s apple. “You could ditch the shirt all together and we could get up to some risky business of our own?”

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, baby.” Eddie winks and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you tell him, hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “And never let Nancy see you like this. She’ll steal you from me.”

“Like I’d dance this way for anyone but you,” Eddie scoffs, pulling you tighter against his body. “Or as if anyone could ever steal me away from you.”

“You’re better than the real Tom Cruise any day, baby,” you tell him. 

“Why, cause I’m like double his height?” Eddie smirks, and even though you swat him on the chest, you’re laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous, Eddie.”

“Maybe. But then you’re about to sleep with a ridiculous man.”

“I’m used to it by now,” you wink, and he puts on a faux scandalized face. 

“And to think, I gave my all out there on the stage tonight, performing for you.”

“Come on, Mr. Rock and Roll,” you say, dragging him towards the stairs. “Let’s see how well you do in performing for me in other areas tonight.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #request

[bakeryblood]

Marked For Life

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

SFW

A young man sat in a backless rolling chair, hunched over their sketchbook as they worked on finishing up a flash sheet of florals for their boss as the bell on top of the front door to the shop rang, the jingle covered by the rock music blasting throughout the shop. It was nine in the morning on a weekday and only him and the shop owner was in at that moment, the other artists reserving themselves to come in once their usual rush hours hit.

Y/N bounced their head along to the music as he finished the spit shading and lifted up the paper off of the transfer sheet and admired it. ‘Just one more week.’ He thought to himself. He had been certified for months, had built his own machine and was more than heavily stocked up on supplies but his boss had held out on letting him take up a booth in the shop. Either telling him the same old story about the owner still not being convinced on them, shops in the neighboring cities had a tendency of poaching artists fresh or otherwise.

Breaking down the other artists set ups, answering the phone, keeping track of bookings and check outs all whilst building their portfolio. It was a thankless job but to him it was worth it, beyond worth dropping out of school to pursue the opportunity he’d been given. “Y/N! Get out here!” The shop owner Fuji was calling out to him over the music and they immediately jumped out of the chair and headed that way towards the store front, sore from sitting in that position for too long.

He leaned against the arched doorway for a moment stretching, “Yeah?” He’d expected them to ask them to go on a coffee run before the others showed up but when they opened their eyes and saw the owner leaning on the counter with an unamused look on their face and a young man with long, curly brown hair standing opposite of them with a sheet of loose leaf notebook paper out in front of them he opened his mouth again to speak.

“You didn’t hear this dude banging away on the bell?” Well, if you could’ve been honest with him no you hadn’t. The constant loud buzzing of the machines coupled with the shop music had done your ears in quite a bit. But you couldn’t respond like that. “No sir, I’m sorry about that..” Y/N made his way over, standing next to the man his age. Trying to ignore the feeling of their dark eyes as they bore into him whilst he looked at the drawing on the paper done fully in black pen with a messy signature at the top. ‘Eddie Munson’.

“Okay kid, like I was saying..” He pointed to the paper on the counter. “Even if I had anyone in the shop right now, something like this wouldn’t be in your price range.” The man had finally been able to pull his eyes off of you before scoffing lightly, a grin on his face as he did so.

“Wow, okay well first off, I’m not a kid. Secondly how do you even know my price range?” Y/N’s lips tightened into a line as he looked away from the interaction. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or feel bad for them as he knew his boss well enough at this point, he didn’t like when people got an attitude with him. He was ‘too old for that shit’ as he’d put it. ‘Kid’ was the nicest thing he could be called at any given time, the guy should be happy he hadn’t been called shithead’ or something else along those lines.

The boss man watched as they pulled their folded black wallet connected to their belt loop by a chain out of their pocket and pulled a fifty dollar bill that looked like it had been through a washing machine at least five times out and slapped it on the counter confidently. “There.”

Fuji grunted as he bent down and pulled one of the thick binders out from under the table top and slid it across the counter, Y/N knew that book. It had the shop minimum flash designs in it. Your usual tiny hearts, butterflies, stars and letter work for those generic couple types who came in to get each other’s initials tattooed a week before the breakup. “The shop minimum is eighty, but that kid-” He pointed to you. “He hasn’t tattooed shit a day in his life, I’ll let him do something out of there on you for fifty.”

Eddie opened the booklet and quickly flipped through it before looking back up with a look of confusion. “Uh, no.”

“Then no deal. Come back next year and hopefully grandma gives you more birthday money next time.” He chuckled at his own shitty joke and pulled the binder back towards him to put up as the man grabbed the sheet of paper and money off the counter, effectively crumpling both before storming out of the shop. Y/N watched him disappear out the door, the tinted windows hiding them from further view.

“Hey boss man? Let me go talk to them real quick. I need a cigarette anyway.” You bounced on your feet waiting to get the okay from them before rushing out after them. Fuji rolled his eyes and motioned with his hand for you to get out. He knew you would probably grovel on your hands and knees to that kid to convince them to get something meaningless out of the booklet if it meant you could finally hit some skin.

Which was close to being true, you might’ve been inclined to beg if you thought it would be necessary. Just as you pushed open the front door and looked around the smoking area out front you saw them sitting on one of the benches dejectedly holding their drawing.

“Hey!“ Y/N jogged over and grabbed the piece of paper out of their hands, beginning to look it over more closely. “Look, my boss is supposed to leave in like..five minutes.” You checked the time on your watch before looking back down at them.

“And?”

You cursed and scrambled to pull your cigarette pack out of the back pocket of your black jeans. Your mind was racing and it was like your skin was vibrating as you thought about finally getting to do your first piece on someone. Along with the adrenaline rushing through you from what you were planning on doing. Your artist was going to kick your ass.

“So, I’ll do it.” You mumbled around the cigarette in your mouth with excitement as you took a seat next to him on the bench and went over his design. It was a beat up looking coffin with two roses on each side at the bottom with scribbled in shading, or coloring, you weren’t exactly sure.

Eddie looked at you as you talked to him about the specifics of what you knew you could get done but it was almost like he zoned out through most of it. You seemed so familiar to him, he’d thought the same thing when he saw you walk out from the backrooms. You couldn’t be younger than him if you worked here and you definitely weren’t older. But with the amount of tattoos you had already it seemed make since that you would be to have had the time to accumulate them, the black tank top that clung to you allowed him to see the countless pieces that covered your upper arms. Leading his eyes to travel to your neck and then down to the hem of the shirt, preventing him from viewing your chest piece in full.

“Hey, buddy—“ You snapped your fingers and smirked at his slightly dazed expression. “You okay? I’m not putting something on you if you’ve been drinking or anything..”

“Huh? No! I mean..no. I haven’t been drinking. It’s just..” Eddie cracked a smile in an attempt to cover his embarrassment from being caught looking at you way too hard. “I feel like I know you from somewhere? If that makes sense?”

Y/N ashed his cigarette and handed him the drawing back. “Doesn’t everyone in Hawkins know everyone else?”

“So you’ve always lived here?” Eddie watched them nod and stand up, shaking their hands out to get ready for the session, knowing how tense in them he got when holding anything for an extended amount of time.

“Since elementary school, yeah. We gotta go do paperwork before he fucks off, just pretend to pick something alright?” Eddie stood up as they tossed their cigarette butt out into the parking lot that extended out from where they had been sitting and followed them back inside. They were quick to change face before they headed back inside, the serious look on their face replaced the one of enthusiasm they had when talking about the piece of art that would soon be on his body forever.

Eddie raked his brain as he filled out the short form for the shops records, desperately trying to think of where they remember them from. School? That was definitely a possibility, seeing them in the hallway in passing, though he couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t have at least attempted to approach them. If they were even half as intimidating as they are now back then that would make more sense. Damn it! This was going to drive him crazy!

“Alright.” The owner walked out of the backrooms where Y/N was meticulously prepping their set up so he’d be able to have it completely ready and out of the way, saving more time for getting the stencil ready and then the actual tattooing process. Eddie stopped tapping his fingers on the table and stood up straight when the bearded man made his way over, snatching up the filled out form and looking it over briefly.

“Mhm..Okay.” He put it back down, taking note that ‘Eddie Munson’ was the same age as his fledgling apprentice. “Don’t fuck this up by trying anything kid, You’re lucky the door was even unlocked when you got here.” And with that he look his leave. Trusting Y/N to get him out before the other artists arrived after lunch. Perhaps he wasn’t a full fledged resident yet but this would definitely be something to tell the others about, he knew Y/N had been jumping at the chance to tattoo someone other than himself.

Eddie waited for the front door to close before rushing through the doorway to see Y/N folding Eddie’s drawing back up, the stencil finished. “Whoa, that was fast.”

“I’ve gotta be fast, the others will kill me if they find out what I’m doing..” He sighed and got up out of the chair he’d pulled up beside the booth an arm rest pulled up in front of that. “Sit. You want it on the other forearm right?” Eddie nodded and did as he was told although their back as turned as they pulled on a pair of black latex gloves. “Okay, shave it.”

“What? I didn’t have to shave last time I got one done..” Eddie looked at the little disposable razor on the metal side table where other things sat neatly laid out.

“Dude, no offense but didn’t you get those when you were like sixteen?” Actually he had been seventeen.

“So you do know me! We went to school together, right?”

Y/N rolled his eyes and made his way back over to his seat, picking up the razor and holding his free hand out to indicate he wanted him to give him his arm. “I told you. Everyone knows everyone in Hawkins..”

Eddie was beaming like a dumbass now knowing he wasn’t the only one to recognize the other person. Y/N actually clocked him a lot quicker after seeing his name on paper. His hair was a hell of a lot longer but his kitchen scratch tattoos were signature, he couldn’t forget Munson. “What happened to you? I haven’t seen you in school in..hell I don’t know how long.”

The young man looked up from the now freshly shaved arm with a perplexed expression. “You’re still in high school?”

Well damn, way to make him embarrassed about it now. Not that he had ever been proud of the fact, actually he was always very embarrassed when the topic was brought up.

“Explains a lot.”

“Yeah, like what?”

Y/N half smiled as he grabbed the transfer sheet and rolled over to dab his gloved finger in some Vaseline to rub on first. “Explains why your band is full of kids.” Ooo you— you had him there. Maybe not really, Gareth was the only one who really looked like a teenager still. All the Hellfire members would give him shit about his baby face.

“Wait wait, hold on.” Y/N looked up after laying down the stencil, hoping it was perfect despite Eddie’s mouth constantly moving. “You’ve seen my band? Like, us actually play?” His face was so bright with that smile, it made you feel silly.

“Don’t cream your pants, it’s not like there’s much other live music around here.” You peeled up the paper and looked it over letting your eyes come back up to meet his. That bastards’ face was way too close to yours! Pushing your rolling chair back with your feet to get a little distance before clearing your throat and motioning for him to make sure it was placed exactly how he wanted it.

“Oh..Yeah, looks good to me.” Eddie replied after giving it perhaps a five second look over.

“Are you sure?” Y/N pressed. This was his first tattoo ever on someone else, his first client essentially, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“I trust ya’ big guy.”

This was exactly why neither of them had interacted up until this point. They both had this intimidating air about them but at any give time they would have made the other embarrassed in a heartbeat. It was almost disgusting of Eddie to be relaying the mans’ earlier words as the whir of the tattoo machine began. Eddie wasn’t a fan of pain, at all, and when Y/N started to go in on the line work it successfully made his thoughts of creaming his pants retreat. “Fuck..”

Y/N stopped, pulling his hands away from his skin momentarily. “You haven’t ever had one done sober have you.”

Eddie tried and failed to hold back a chuckle before they started again. Using two of their gloves fingers to hold the skin taught as he drew on him painfully. “Nope.” He watched as Y/N’s tongue flicked out across their lip and they caught their tongue piercing between their teeth, a normal act he did when concentrating but this time it was on two things at once. Not fucking up this tattoo and not laughing.

Eddie was actually finding it pretty easy to concentrate on your face as you worked on him. Your eyes, your mouth. Fuckin’ pretty boys always got to him. “So why do this for me? Your boss said it would be expensive.”

“I don’t get paid either way, I might as well take the opportunity to do something nice for once.” Y/N dipped into the black ink in the little cap again before shifting into a better position for the shading process, he wasn’t giving him any color so it was actually going very quickly. For several minutes neither of them talked and when they did that the pain seemed to be more intense for Eddie, if you looked up at him you’d see the little muscle in his jaw clench along with his teeth and eyes until finally he had to say something to break the quiet streak.

“So Y/N, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.” Y/N tried to stay stoic and in the zone as he rubbed a bit of moisturizing ointment on the tattoo, hoping it could help calm the skin down some. The paler you were the more red and angry the skin tended to get he’d noticed.

“You smoke weed?” He hung his head, failing at suppressing the grin on his face so badly that it almost rivaled Eddie’s.

“Would I? With you? Never.” He tried to avoid looking at the man’s face but it was near impossible, especially when he heard him give a gasp as if you’d wounded him.

“And why is that? Don’t you think this right here is a bonding experience? You’ve marked me for life, the least I could do is repay you with something other than money.” Eddie watched you cover go to double dip, he was too distracting.

“Oh so this is intimate to you huh?” You went ahead and started going in on the finishing touches before he could reply with words, pulling a low hum from him that was drowned out by the buzz of the machine.

“Ugh! Fuck you..” He finally chirped when you stopped, pulling his arm off of the cushioned rest. He hadn’t been ready.

“You wish Munson.” You flashed him a cheeky smile as he held his arm, eyes on you. His mouth was slightly agape as if he’d heard something pornographic.

“Get your dirty little hands off that thing before you get it infected, Alcohol and then we’re done.” Dirty? Alcohol? Done?

“What the fuck, we’re done? It’s already done?” He pulled his hand off of his arm and stretched it back out in front of him, admiring your work silently. Until you grabbed your green tinted bottle of alcohol off of your station and gave it a spray. He could have killed you, he felt like you’d tried to kill him. It worse than getting the damn thing done times eleven!

“Oh no you don’t!” You dropped the bottle and quickly reached forward to grab his hands to keep him from touching it again. Once again you found yourself so close to his face, you could see every line in it as he bit his lip, looking back at you with a pained, pitiful expression.

“You did that on purpose.”

Y/N chuckled and nodded his head before they locked eyes again. “I had to. You know, disinfectant n’ all.”

“One star review, no, zero star review. ‘The cute tatted up bastard assaulted me when we were done, I demand a refund.’ That’s what I’m going to say.”

Your eyebrows shot up hearing that. It was a funny joke, but ‘cute’? That was blatant disrespect. That was hurtful. And it was flirting.

“I’m charging you full price now, two ounces of your best. Delivered.” You made sure to lean in closer as you inundated the curly haired man with certain feelings. He could smell the smoke on your breath from earlier you were so close.

“Jokes on you big guy, I can only get one ounce at a time.”

“Sounds like you need a new guy then.” Y/N let him go and immediately stood up to go retrieve the one thing he’d forgotten, a sheet of plastic wrap. Eddie was floored, perhaps even enamored. Were you some kind of jack-of-all-trades?

“You got the number for one?”

And the rest is history. Eddie wasn’t smooth by any means, but he had successfully gotten both a hot man’s phone number and some new ink. And in the end he made sure to promise to only come to them from here on out, with more money next time.

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