#any time it's two in the morning eddie is on edge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taintedcigs · 5 months

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⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ୨ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃.

summary: in which you show your best friend the new christmas lingerie you bought for a guy, and he finally snaps and shows you how much better he is for you. (wc:2.8k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up irl), possessive!eddie, slight breeding kink, degrading, praises, kinda dom!eddie, but v soft dom/sub tones, kind of a daddy kink (its used like 2 times i can never properly do daddy kinks im stupid) no use of ‘y/n’, nicknames!

pairing: best friend!eddie munson x bratty!fem!reader

authors note: so i was just looking for christmas lingeries, and saw those bow ones that wrap around your body. and i was listening to sabrina carpenter's fruitcake ep and this was made oops. not proof-read ignore any mistakes pls or ill bite u. [EDIT: sorry for posting this a million times tumblr won't co-operate w me so i got rid of the dividers. i hope it works or im gonna bang my head against the wall.]

“Do you think Chris will like it?” You hummed, admiring yourself against the mirror, moving around with a giggle as anticipation pooled in Eddie’s tummy, his breath getting more ragged, and pants getting tighter around his relentless bulge.

Speechless.

Eddie stood speechless, gaze darkening the more he admired you, he didn’t even know which part of you he wanted to take a mental image of.

It was like you stepped from his filthiest fantasies, giggling up at him with that alluring smirk on your face. God, you had to know what you were doing to him.

The red bowknot wrapped around you perfectly, cradling your curves, tantalizing him further and further. You were his precious Christmas gift, just waiting to be unwrapped by him, and him only.

Not that stupid jock who probably couldn’t even make you cum no matter how hard he tried.

No, you needed him, you needed Eddie to unwrap you, and show you how to properly be punished for even suggesting if this was good enough for you to surprise your boy toy with.

“N-no!” He spat quickly, getting up from the comfortable way he was sprawled on your bed.

Your head cocked to face him. “W-what? Do you not like it?” You jutted out your bottom lip, and he so badly wanted to bite those plushy lips, shut you up, and show you who fucking owned you.

You had been teasing him non-stop lately, and this had been your last resort, you knew Eddie always fell for your jealous antics, but this had been too much, you knew this would finally push him off the edge, finally handle you the way you wanted to be handled, rough and possessive.

Neither of you were good at communicating your feelings, but this, this is what you were good at. And you had been wanting Eddie ever since the two of you became best friends.

There was something unspoken there, a line the two of you always wanted to cross, always handsy with each other, always too close, but never stepping over that boundary. And you were growing tired of it, the nights you spent with your fingertips circling over your clit, imagining his calloused hands, mewling for him.

And the nights, the mornings, the showers he spent, abusing his hardened cock with the images of you sprawled out for him, begging to fuck him had been torturous enough.

He deserved this, he deserved you.

This was it, and Eddie was willing to fuck over the friendship once and for all. To finally make you his.

“N-no, I like- love it.” He stammered, taking a step closer to you, “but there’s no fuckin’ way he gets you like this.”

You wanted to smirk, the excitement you felt in your tummy was unexplainable, heat pooling with a need for him as you wanted nothing more than to have him push you against the sturdy beige wall of your room, exploring you, marking you as his.

“That inexperienced asshole, doesn’t deserve you,” he spat, pushing his body closer to yours, merely inches away from you, and you nodded dumbly at his words.

“You need someone who can take better care of you, princess. That can handle you like you deserve to be handled, don’t you think?” He coos, hand dipping to the lacey bow that adorned your curves, everywhere he touches feels hot, so hot that you almost whine, just at the sensation of his rough hands.

“Do you think he knows you better than me, angel?” He tsks mockingly and you’re quick to shake your head.

“That’s what I thought too, baby…” He hums, running his fingertips over the soft fabric that barely covers your slit, “Do you think he can handle a brat like you? D’you think he can actually put you in your place like I would?”

His fingers now dance over the wrapped bow, teasingly, wanting nothing more than to unwrap it and see you fully, naked, and begging for him.

Your thighs rubbed together with need, “Honey,” he hummed dangerously close to your ear, breath fanning against your cheeks, and you melted into him, “if I unwrap you, am I going to find you soaking for me?” He pressed open-mouthed kisses down the shell of your ear, tongue striping a lick down to your throat.

The anticipation is killing you and you want to answer him, but his slight touches on your body are making it impossible, he’s fucking perfect, and could probably make you cum undone with just his words.

You whimper slightly, glossy bottom lips still jutting at him and he tsks, “Nuh-uh… baby, I thought I told you not to be a brat.”

“Use your words, sweets.”

“Yes,” You breathed, barely, eyes opening wide to see the way his amber gaze darkened.

“Yes, what?” He taunted, grip on your body getting tighter.

“Y-yes, sir,” you gulped, gauging Eddie’s reaction obediently.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he smirks under his greedy moan, quick to let his hands roam around everywhere, fingertips slipping underneath the fragile fabric barely covering your slit, he groans when he realizes just how wet you are.

“Is that all for me, baby?” He hums into your mouth, swirling your slickness inside of your clit, grinning while having no mercy on your lips, all biting and nibbling.

You’re quick to nod, breathless when he’s basically everywhere, and it isn’t long before he frustratingly unties the stupid bow getting in the way of him and you.

With a growl he almost rips it apart, tossing it aside, and his eyes widen at the sight in front of him.

“F-fuck, princess, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he moans needily, eyes taking in the sight of you, naked, pooling for him. Perfect tits, waiting to be sucked by him, bare ass waiting to be marked up by him, crimson red handprints would look perfect on it, he decides.

He presses his plushy lips onto yours, desperate and sucking on your tongue, while his finger slides inside of your tight cunt, other grabbing onto your breasts, and you can do nothing more than mewl for him.

Then his finger retracts from your sloppy walls, you whine at the loss and he’s quick to shove his fingers down your throat, you happily accept it, sucking greedily on his fingers, tasting yourself on his fingers, it’s all so filthy and you throb more and more for him.

His darkened amber gaze is on you, almost groaning at the way you suck on his fingers, wishing he could fuck your greedy throat with his aching cock. But not now, because fuck, he needs to be inside of you.

With a growl he wastes no time picking you up, tossing you against the bed with a soft plop, and you giggle when he settles beneath your thighs, enjoying how rough and attentive he is.

His grabby hands are everywhere, hips rolling into you, but he’s far too clothed, yet you can still feel his bulge pressing against your thigh, making your sloppy cunt clench around nothing. You’re desperate, and he feels big, so big that your mouth waters at the thought of him not fitting into your mouth, his cock stretching you out, fully.

You tug at his pants, almost signaling for him to take them off, so that he could finally be inside of you. He taunts your desperate attempt with a breathy laugh, “Patience, doll,” he tuts, voice low and gravelly, making you hum sweetly.

He wets his lip before his lips attack you again, hands giving more attention to your breasts, pinching your nipples to earn more whines out of your pouted lips, wasting no time to dive down into your aching cunt, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all over your breasts, your stomach, and your dripping inner thighs, doing it all with a grin while he watches you shudder beneath him.

He takes his time admiring your pussy, padded thumb slightly playing with your clit as he watches your eyes squeeze shut at his movements, he groans at your lips glistening with arousal. Perfect, just fucking perfect. And he doesn’t know how much longer he can handle not being inside of you.

His cock is strained against his zipper, and it hurts, just the thought of your velvety walls engulfing him is enough to have him explode in his pants. He needs you.

“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he growls, head dipping between your shaking thighs, inhaling and tasting you once he places open-mouthed kisses on your pussy lips, and your clit, giving you all the attention you need.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, too,” he hums into your walls, lapping up at your juices like a man-starved, and you’re too far gone to register anything, nodding dumbly and trashing beneath him.

“Need you to sit on my face after we’re done, baby,” he purred. “But I need to fuck you now, doll, need to feel this tight cunt wrapped around my cock, yea?” He pulls back slightly, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact, it makes him grin, knowing how desperate you are for him.

Frustrated, and restrained, he unbuckles his belt quickly, even quicker to take off his boxers, with a hiss, his cock slaps against his stomach, your eyes widening with it.

No wonder you felt his bulge against your ass every time he passed by you, his cock slightly brushing against your ass, making you whimper quietly. No wonder you always felt the need to rub your thighs together when he wore those slutty grey sweatpants, he was packing.

Slightly curved to the left, thick, and deliciously beading with pre-cum, his angry crimson red tip faced your inner thighs, you nearly whined at the sight. “S-so big,” you murmured, doe-eyes looking up at him with so much promise.

“I’m going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated,” he grins up at you. “Gonna ruin you for everyone else, sweetheart.” You whine at that, his possessiveness slicking your thighs further as if that was even possible.

“P-please,” you looked up at him, desperate.

He tugs at his cock at your mewls, teeth drawing on his bottom lip at you. All sprawled out for him, legs spread apart, glistening pussy greedily waiting for his cock.

He reaches for the condom but you’re quick to stop him. “No, no. ‘M on the pill,” you murmured. He nearly groans at your words. The thought of fucking you raw, feeling your walls hug him sweetly shoots pleasure through his entire body.

“P-please, sir, wanna feel you,” you cry out, nearly wailing, glossy eyes looking down at him, pleading.

And who’s he to deny you?

“Want to feel you inside, fully, been waitin’ for this so long, Eds.” He groans at that, his cock aching, wanting to spill his load inside of you.

“Already, beggin’ honey?” A teasing throaty chuckle escapes his lips, he’s more than amused, letting just the tip of his fat cock tease over your entrance, pre-cum smearing all over your throbbing clit.

“Mhmm,” you unashamedly moan. “I need you, been spendin’ too much time, touching myself to the thought of you, your cock… Need you to stretch me, ruin me, wanna be yours so badly,” you whined, voice cracking as you desperately thrashed beneath him, his teasing making you pathetic and dumb.

That’s all he needed to hear before he slammed inside of you with a rough thrust, he couldn’t help himself, knowing that he could’ve had you all this time, made you his, and you were fucking touching yourself to the thought of him?

He was about to lose it, and you were quick to cry out at his size, your tight walls trying to accommodate his fat cock, feeling him stretching you fully.

“F-fuck!” He gritted through his teeth, holding onto your hips with a bruising hold. Your whines and your pussy clamping around his cock was enough to send him into a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to fill you up.

“Eds, t-too much,” you wail out, glossy eyes looking up at him.

“Ssshh, I know, baby, I know,” he coos condescendingly, making you whine more. “But you can handle it, can’t you, princess?” He bit on your bottom lip with a grin, “Look how well this greedy cunt is pullin’ me in,” he thrusts further into you with a groan.

You cry out at the intrusion, welcoming the way the slight pain turns fully into pleasure, his cock driving into you with such force that you can almost feel him everywhere. “See? Such a good girl f’me, mmpf, just like that, honey,” he praises, flutters fill your stomach and heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s so perfect and you’re so proud to be his good girl. His padded thumb is quick to find its way to your clit, circling it gently to elicit more pretty whines from you. “This is mine, now.”

With a groan, “you’re all mine.” He continues to gloriously pump into you, enjoying the way you look so fucked out, his fingertips rubbing against your clit, you feel so full, so fucking full. Eyes lulling the more his cock dives deeper into you.

“All yours, daddy,” you breathe, not realizing what you just said, it makes Eddie hiss loudly as his movements pick up, eyes rolling to the back of his head with a delicious growl spilling from his lips.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him.

“P-princess, fuck, Jesus fuckin’, you can’t just say shit like that to me,” He spills out through gritted teeth, enjoying the way you move your hips against him, desperate for more friction.

“Look at you, shit,” Eddie groaned, pressing his thumb into your clit with more pressure, circling it with a grin, cock hitting that spongey spot deliciously while your back arched in pleasure.

Babbles, and incoherent pleas left your lips, and Eddie grinned at the way you looked so cockdrunk on him, clenching around his cock, letting him know that you were getting closer.

“Such a whore for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, rough hands squeezing your cheeks as he made you look at him, “Love the way you go so dumb on me, pretty girl, not a single thought in that lil’ head of yours, only my cock, isn’t that right?”

Your breathing picks up at his words, orgasm pooling in your tummy, you know you’re about to lose it soon, “Daddy, please,” you whimpered, not even knowing what you were begging for, it was all too much, his filthy words, his thumb on your clit, the way he was deep inside of your walls, hitting spots you didn’t know that existed.

He growls at that, sinking further into you, “I know, baby,” he murmurs into your heated skin, reveling in the way you claw at his back, freshly manicured nails marking him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl? Go ahead, and cream my cock like the good girl you are, hmm?” His hold on your hips was rough, his other hand still circling your swollen clit, hips smacking against yours with such force that you were sure you were entirely gone now.

“Come with me, Daddy,” Is what you managed to slip past your lips before you couldn’t handle it anymore, head falling back, mouth forming into a perfect ‘o’ shape, you felt that tight coil snap in your tummy, making your vision blurry as you sobbed beneath him.

Your pussy squeezed and gripped his cock deliciously and with one more of his hips rutting into you, your orgasm was quick to trigger his. “Shit, gon- gonna fuck my load into you, angel.” He growled through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming shallow.

“Gonna fill you with so much cum that y-you won’t get it outta you for days, f-fuck!”

“Feel s-so fuckin, good, baby, shit, shit, shit!” He grunted, and finally spilled his load inside of you with a loud groan, painting your overstimulated walls, cock twitching inside of you as his groans mixed with yours.

Breathless, fucked out, and just a little sated, he was quick to slip out of you only when he made sure your pussy milked him dry and that every single drop was inside of you.

Both of you struggled to come down from your highs, all those years of pent-up sexual frustration too much to even sate.

“We’re nowhere near done,” Eddie hummed breathlessly, his head cocking toward you.

With a smirk, you turned to him. “Oh, yeah?” You quirked a brow, excitement, and pleasure were quick to pool at your tummy.

“Mmmhmm, still need to punish you for that whole Chris thing, princess. Even though it worked,” He gave you a hearty chuckle, “Don’t think you can tease me like that and get away with it, pretty girl.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Those Christmas lights you hung up on that tree,” He pointed toward the giant tree, decorated with lots of flashy lights.

“I’ve heard they were a really good substitute for ropes, hmm? And the best form of punishment for bratty girls,” he grinned wickedly, attacking your lips again without giving you a chance to breathe.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

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It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy

He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation

He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him

Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week

Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone

He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little

Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens

And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning

Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him

And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll

But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side

“What’s that?”

“Your walker.”

“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”

“You are today.”

And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy

But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself

“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”

“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”

“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”

“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”

It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him

But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker

He pulled himself up

His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear

Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two

Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving

He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve

“Happy?”

“Are you?”

And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks

Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away

“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so

It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once

Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days

Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday

When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed

And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date

“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.

Steve should say no, but he doesn’t

Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #physical therapist Steve #idk going through my notes on things I’ll never have time to actually write #but maybe someone else does #I’m literally ignoring work so hard right now #I’m just tired!!!!#im just a girl who doesn’t wanna work anymore!!!!#cw: injury #cw: mention of accident

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stevebabey · 9 months

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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines

“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”

The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.

“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.

Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.

And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.

Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.

He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.

Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.

Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.

Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.

How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.

How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.

Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.

Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.

And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.

So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.

They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.

It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.

Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.

Steve gets that a little more now.

So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.

So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”

Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.

“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”

Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”

He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.

“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”

“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”

Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”

Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”

Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”

He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.

Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”

Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.

“Do you?”

“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”

His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in�� that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.

Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.

So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?

He’ll do it gladly.

Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.

"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”

Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.

"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"

"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"

“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."

Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.

Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”

Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.

“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”

“Cheese?” Steve suggests.

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”

Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.

“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”

Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.

“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”

—

some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!

@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D

#ignoring the other characters rn lmao #i wrote it in a day. Sue me #something about like eddie being convinced that steve Doesn’t Understand #cos if he did he wouldn’t have done this!!#and steve being like i know eddie… i know #I Knew It And I Did It Anyways #steve’s puts-himself-on-the-line selflessness vs. eddie disbelieving he’s worth it #[street fighter voice] FIGHT!#uhhhhh does baby boy steve even know he likes men yet? probably notttt #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie hurt/comfort

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palmtreesx3 · 9 months

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Deeper for You

Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.

Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.

Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.

The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.

This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.

"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.

"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.

"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"

"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "

"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.

"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.

"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "

"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."

"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."

Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.

Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.

"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.

"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.

"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.

"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"

"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.

Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.

"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.

"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."

After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.

"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.

It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.

The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.

The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.

It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.

You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.

The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.

Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.

It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.

"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.

Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.

But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.

So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."

Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"

Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."

"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.

"Steve." You say, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.

"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."

When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.

So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.

A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "

"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.

And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.

"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.

"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '

Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.

You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "

"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.

He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.

Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.

When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."

"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.

"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"

You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.

He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.

Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.

This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.

In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.

"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.

In that moment you decide you're not done with him.

Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."

You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."

"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."

"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."

And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.

"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"

"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"

Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.

A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."

"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."

"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."

"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.

You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.

The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.

"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.

"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.

"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.

"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.

"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."

His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.

In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.

Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."

You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."

"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.

"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.

You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.

"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"

"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.

He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.

It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.

You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."

You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.

"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"

"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.

"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.

Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #Spotify

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munson-blurbs · 3 months

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair.

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life.

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?”

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?”

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room.

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away.

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth.

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side.

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class.

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed.

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora.

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her.

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.”

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride.

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it.

Now was not the time to slack.

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior.

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self.

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed.

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought.

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date.

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture.

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart.

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.”

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over.

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop.

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin.

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?”

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.”

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air.

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles.

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again.

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills.

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running.

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.”

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette.

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.”

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over.

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin.

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology.

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?”

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.”

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?”

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.”

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve.

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim.

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens.

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger.

It was raw shame.

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight.

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

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starrystevie · 4 months

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18+ | cw: somno, smut | crossposted on twitter

eddie's loud, he can't help it. in everything he does, he's big & dramatic & commands the attention of the room. it's one of the reasons steve falls for him in the first place. when they're fucking in a tiny trailer with thin walls however it becomes a problem.

it only takes getting caught once with wayne's all knowing stare the next day when steve comes to pick eddie up for a date. he snuck out the window that morning to avoid being found but it turns out eddie's loud mouth did the work for them the night before.

if anything, steve's proud that he can fuck eddie enough that he can't keep his mouth shut. turn his brain and limbs to mush as he rattles out curse after curse, praise after praise. proud that he can get eddie so thoroughly fucked that his name is echoing off the walls.

at first it was cute, bending down to smother eddie's mouth with a kiss to swallow yet another too loud moan. at first they'd giggle when eddie would shout steve's name as he hit his favorite spot that set his nerves on fire. at first steve would whisper filth in his ear hoping he'd take the hint and quiet down to his level, slowing his hips to roll in an agonizing pace. but nothing worked. steve would still pound into him and eddie would still yell like they had the world all to themselves.

"you should just fuck me when i'm passed out," eddie moaned as they took advantage of wayne's overnight shift. "it'll -fuck- it'll be like the best wet dream i could ever have."

steve's hips stuttered as he thought about it, and then picked up even harder when he pictured it. "yeah? want me to keep you quiet, baby?"

it didn't take long for them to finish, took even less time to start round two after they got hard again while planning out the details. turns out they both are a little too into the idea of steve taking him apart when he's asleep.

the first time, eddie wakes up halfway through while steve is blowing him and is too excited to go back to sleep so he resorts to biting into a pillow to keep quiet. the second time, steve's too afraid of eddie waking up again so he settles with fucking into his own fist and then coming all over his bare ass. eddie wakes up while the sun rises to the sheets stuck to him with his cock hard and red which gets them both going again.

they finally hit the sweet spot after a while of trial and error.

they fall asleep curled around each other like they always do, only this time eddie's ass has been thoroughly stretched and steve falls asleep with his half hard cock nestled between his cheeks. when steve inevitably wakes up, skin sweaty where the two are pressed together, the fun can begin.

it doesn't take too long for him to get hard again, it doesn't take too long for him to slip his freshly lubed fingers into his ass, it doesn't take too long for him to get his cock fully surrounded by heat as he slides fully into eddie.

eddie snuffles against the pillow and steve freezes, an excited panic thrumming through his veins, until his boyfriend quiets back down with one final small whimper. he rolls his hips slowly, listens to the ambient noise in the trailer for any signs of someone else being awake and gently brings his hand up to cover eddie's mouth. just in case. just like eddie asked for however many times ago.

fucking into eddie when he's pliant is everything steve could have dreamed up. nothing will compare to being able to fuck exactly how they like to, loud and electric and fast and perfect, but this? grinding his hips with his nose pressed into the back of eddie's head, every inch of him on edge as he waits to either get caught or succeed, is a thrill in and of itself.

he comes probably too fast, too turned on by the whole thing. he comes buried deep in eddie, twitching out every last drop, keeping his hips pressed close. he comes with his mouth wide open on eddie's neck, teeth skimming over sensitive skin, whispering out curses that even the best ears couldn't hear because they're only meant for eddie's.

steve pulls out, sleepy & sated, reaching down to run his fingers through the mess of come & lube that follows. eddie whimpers something quiet & sweet so steve gives him his fingers against his lips like a reward for being good. for being quiet. for trusting steve like he does.

eddie's sore when he wakes up in the morning. he grimaces against the pull in his ass as he goes to stand until he realizes what happens. reaches between his legs to feel how tender his hole his. looks on the sheets and sees where he came against them in his sleep.

he wakes steve up with his mouth. considers it a much deserved payback until he's squirming against the mattress & whines out eddie's name.

"you fucked me?" eddie asks as he pops off with a grin. it's not a question that needs to be answered nor is the next one. "did it work?"

steve groans as he tangles his fingers in eddie's hair, bringing his mouth back where he wants it. mutters out a few curse words as eddie trails his fingers over his balls. "what do you think?"

"i think you need to shut up before i'm the one who has to keep you quiet now."

they have wayne's schedule memorized and eddie uses his standard early saturday morning shift that day as an excuse to make steve get as loud as he can, his name echoing off the walls this time around, driving him crazy with his lips and tongue and fingers.

little do they know that wayne now has his fingers plugging his ears with a grimace, wishing he hadn't swapped shifts with gary for the day, contemplating going in to work anyway to escape his loud ass nephew and his loud ass boyfriend.

#uhhhh hi hello tumblr i have other things to be doing but this thought has plagued me all morning #eddie being a fucking loudmouth even (or especially) while he's getting railed is my roman empire #my writing #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie smut

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libraryofgage · 7 months

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Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #merman steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #steddie fluff #my writing

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xoxoladyaz · 9 months

Text

AU-gust, Day 6: Domestic

Eddie Munson was a rockstar. Eddie Munson was a renegade. Eddie Munson was a bad boy, living life on the edge, destined for wild nights on the open road, for success and fame and riches. Eddie Munson was –

“ – ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie whirled around from psyching himself up in the mirror to glare at Jeff. Jeff, who had the utter nerve to roll his eyes at him.

“You’re being ridiculous, man,” Jeff repeated.

“He’s not being ridiculous, he’s being a baby,” Gareth cut in with a snort.

Eddie gaped at his two best friends, his musketeers, his brothers in arms. “What – I – how dare you! I am not being a baby, I’m Eddie fucking Munson, I’m a high-rolling freak on the streets and in the sheets - ”

“Dude, gross.”

“ – who’s ready to rock across America!” He finished emphatically.

Jeff just quirked his eyebrow at him. “You’re literally pouting right now.”

“No, I’m not!”

Jeff and Gareth shared a look before sighing in tandem. “You’ve gone to bed before eleven every night the last few weeks. The rest of us aren’t even out of the venue by the time you’re asleep,” Gareth started.

“Not to mention the fact that you can’t do anything in the morning until you’ve called and talked to Steve,” Jeff continued.

“And if you can’t talk to Steve during his lunch break then you’re grumpy for the rest of the day.”

“You keep complaining about the fact that none of his shirts smell like him anymore - ”

“ – seriously, you threw a temper tantrum until Stu stopped and bought a bottle of his shitty cologne for you to spray on your pillow - ”

“ – and you keep making super long and sappy speeches about missing your ‘sweetheart’ every single performance before we play ‘Faithfully’ - ”

“ – it’s embarrassing dude, we’re a metal band!”

“ – and to top it all off, you literally can’t go more than three minutes without talking about Steve or what Steve would think of what we’re driving by and God forbid you make any sort of decision without talking to Steve first.”

Eddie stood frozen, paralyzed by the heat rushing towards his face. “I – I do not!”

Phil walked in from the back of the bus and chuckled. “Dude, you literally called him to ask if you should order ketchup or mustard with your burger last night.”

“I - ” Eddie sputtered before crossing his arms. “I – he was having burgers too and I wanted us to match!”

“Awww,” Gareth cooed mockingly, fluttering his eyes back at Eddie. “That’s so sweet.”

“Ignore him,” Jeff said, shoving Gareth off of his chair. “For the record, it is really sweet, man. So why are you trying to hide it with all this ‘bad boy of rock and roll stuff?’”

“What do you mean ‘hide it?’ I’ve always been a bad boy.”

Silence. (If they weren’t on a moving bus and had their windows open, it would have been the perfect moment for a symphony of crickets to kick in.)

Eddie squeezed his arms against his chest and pouted (and yes, he knew he was pouting this time, thank you very much.) “Rude.”

Jeff rose with a sigh and crossed the tour bus. When he reached Eddie he threw his arm around him in a half-hug. “Eds, my man, I love you, but you’ve only ever been scary looking.”

“Seriously, you’re the sappiest guy I know,” Gareth added unhelpfully.

“And before you say that’s not metal,” Jeff kept going (and yeah, he knew Eddie pretty well to head off that train of thought), “that’s what sets us apart from the rest of the bands on the scene.”

“What does?”

“You being a super loving guy, man,” Phil nodded with a dazed look in his eyes. “Truthfully, I think love is the most metal thing of all. It can change the world.”

“Wow,” Gareth snorted after a few moments, “have you gotten up close and personal with Mary Jane already today?”

“Well, yeah, but - ”

“What Phil is trying to say is that you’re made of love, dude. And it’d be a real shame if you lost track of that, especially because that’s what we love about you, and that’s what Steve loves about you,” Jeff finished. He squeezed Eddie’s shoulder comfortingly before letting go.

“You’re right,” Eddie rubbed his hands against his arms. “I know you’re right, it’s just – this was supposed to be what I wanted, you know? Touring and fame and the open road. But - ”

Jeff prodded him gently. “But?”

“But I miss Steve,” Eddie sighed. “I miss seeing him come home every day. I miss waking up next to him every morning and falling asleep next to him every night. I miss his delicious pasta dinners and his burned pancakes because he always burns them and I just – I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this. I just miss him. But I don’t want to give up what we have either.”

The boys were silent for a moment, looking amongst each other and back at Eddie, who was wilting in on himself.

“Well,” Phil started, “we don’t have to tour like this. We could just do weekends maybe?”

“Or summers,” Jeff hummed thoughtfully. “That way Steve can come with us.”

“And Will!” Gareth perked up, grinning. “He doesn’t take classes in the summers, he’d be able to come with us then.”

“And that way by the time we’re done touring, Steve will be headed back to work and you can be home with him,” Jeff nodded, like it was decided. “We can definitely make that work.”

Eddie’s voice was small and quiet when he spoke. “You’d really do that for me?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be just ‘for you,’ it would be good for all of us, but yeah, man. We just want you to be happy. That’s way more important than any tour.”

Eddie nodded once, twice, and then he was throwing his arms around Jeff and tackling him to the floor. “Thank you thank you thank you, you guys are the best, Steve’s gonna be so excited I gotta go tell him RIGHT NOW - ” and then Eddie was off, whooping happily into the back of the tour bus.

Jeff sat up from his spot now on the floor and exchanged looks with Gareth and Phil. “You’re good with that, yeah?”

“Dude, if Eddie wasn’t going to say anything, I was,” Gareth shook his head. “Eddie’s way less of a slob when Steve’s around.”

“And he’s a great cook! I’m getting tired of all this Taco Bell.”

“Speak for yourself, Phil!” Gareth growled, affronted, and the three remaining Corroded Coffin members began arguing about the nutritional benefits of Taco Bell.

(When they finally went on tour again the following summer it was a much better experience for everyone involved. Eddie was almost constantly in a good mood, Gareth didn’t feel the need to strangle Eddie for hogging the phone, Phil ate his weight in homemade – or hotel-made – pasta, and Jeff? Jeff got to enjoy himself without any worries about his best friend losing his way, because anytime Eddie got a little stressed or in his head, all it took was one look at Steve and he was okay, and that was more than worth the crowded tour bus.)

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #rock star eddie munson #steddie fanfic #corroded coffin #august fanfic challenge

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neonghostlights · 6 months

Note

i have a request !

popular cheerleader reader comes back after summer break sporting a small baby bump. it’s eddies. theyve been in a secret relationship, drama ensues!

This is cute! I changed it around just a bit but I still hope you like it!!

Warnings: Sunshine!Mom!Reader x Dad!Eddie, Food/Eating, Pregnancy, Nausea and Vomiting (Morning sickness), Cravings, Protective Eddie, everyone’s in their early to mid 20's.

Wordcount: 1.8k

Surprise!

It was the summer after college and everyone was leaving.

Not permanently, thankfully.

It was a weird feeling to have the little family you had built over the years break apart and go their separate ways, even if it was only for a few months.

It was like a coming of age moment in a movie. You were adults. College educated adults that were having one last piece of freedom before settling down at boring jobs you would work at for the next forty something years before you had to retire.

Nancy and Jonathan were going back to the small California town that his mom, Hopper, sister and brother were located. They would spend the whole summer there before their new jobs as a journalist and photographer at a New York newspaper.

Steve was going to Washington state for some training before he started his new cushy business job. He was excited and nervous of course but hiding it behind a suave exterior. He bought some fancy new cologne to go with his new suits and you had a feeling that he wouldn’t be coming home alone at the end of the summer.

Chrissy and Robin would be spending the summer in Florida at one of Chrissy's cousins' beach houses. Robin was terrified to meet Chrissy’s family but soon got over it when Chrissy reminded her of the days they would spend in the sand with the cool ocean breeze kissing their skins.

That left you and Eddie. The two polar opposites of your group of friends.

Eddie was rough edges, spicy cologne and wild hair from head banging while playing his guitar.

You were soft skin from your vanilla lotion, sweet lips from your strawberry lipgloss and a lover of fluffy pillows that look like clouds.

You were sensitive, easy to tear up at the wrong tone of voice. Eddie was the opposite, using brash words and sticking his finger up to anyone he thought had done him wrong.

It wasn’t like you and Eddie hated each other. You just weren’t super close. He was kind to you, never mean. And there were times he would speak up for you at restaurants when they got your order wrong and you were too anxious to complain.

And there was the time he punched a guy in the face at the bar for putting his hands on you without your permission.

But those were things you thought came from being in the same friend group. You stood up for each other.

You knew without your mutual friends around that you and Eddie would have no reason to see each other over the summer. It would be like you two were strangers for a few months before the people you loved came home and gave you a reason to be around each other again.

You hadn’t had any jobs lined up or anything exciting to do over the summer. The job search local to Hawkins had come up dry. You dreaded the thought of having to move far away just to put your degree to use and to make enough to pay the bills.

Steve was the last to leave. You and Eddie stood at Steve’s doorstep, waving at him as you saw him pull away in the cab to go to the airport.

There was a brief and awkward silence when the tail lights disappeared around the corner. The last thread holding you and Eddie together stretching and stretching until it broke right in front of your eyes.

You turned to give him an awkward smile and wave before climbing down the cement steps of Steve’s home and heading towards your car. You thought about maybe curling up on the couch to watch a romantic comedy that would make you laugh and cry simultaneously.

A good laugh/cry was good for the soul.

When you hit the last step you heard Eddie clear his throat behind you before calling your name.

“Do you wanna go get some pizza?” He asked you, hands shoved in his pockets as rocked back and forth awkwardly.

You nodded, a small smiling gracing your face as you stared up at him.

Maybe you wouldn’t have to spend the summer alone after all.

You fixed your skirt and then fixed it again.

“Relax,” Eddie muttered in your ear as he came up behind you, pulling you against him.

“Do you think they’re gonna be mad?” You asked again for the twentieth time that day.

“No,” Eddie answered again, also for the twentieth time that day.

Everyone’s return to Hawkins happened to land on the same weekend. You were excited to see your friends again after so long apart and to hear about everything they did.

You were so excited t4o get your secret off your chest. The weight of it was crushing you and you weren’t sure you could keep breathing if you didn’t let it off your chest.

Eddie was cool and calm as usual, the only sign of his stress being his chewed down nails. You had wrapped some bandaids around the ones that bled earlier.

Nancy and Jonathan showed up to your apartment first with some cool photos they took while hiking in California. There were some of the pretty sunset and also some of Jonathan lying on a rock when he got tired halfway through and threatened to crawl back down.

Chrissy and Robin showed up next, smelling like coconut and happiness. Robin gushed over the bonding she did with her girlfriend's family while Chrissy stared up at her in awe. The both of them looked even more in love than they were when they left.

Steve showed up last, dressed in his suit. He apologized for showing up late, blaming a last minute meaning that was part of his training.

The slight blush on his face and lipstick on his color had you thinking that it wasn’t the training that made him late.

You didn’t want to embarrass him so you didn’t point it out.

Robin didn’t catch the memo though, teasing him gently before pulling him in for a big hug.

You didn’t have anything big planned in your small apartment. Eddie had ordered some pizzas which you were excited for. You had been craving the cheese and pepperonis so bad that your mouth had watered all day at the thought of finally sitting down to eat.

The first one to notice something was off was Robin. She sat in the middle of your couch with Steve on one side of her and Chrissy on the other.

You hadn’t done anything particularly incriminating except for getting up and making an excuse when Eddie sat too close to you. He shot you a look that told you to chill out as you fumbled to the other side of the room, faking an interest in Jonathan's new camera.

You caught the way Robin’s eyes danced between you and Eddie, probably putting together pieces of a story that you were thinking of the best time to tell.

You shied away from her accusing eyes until Eddie went to go get the pizza from the delivery driver at the door.

You offered to help him, following him to the entryway that didn’t shield you from your friends' gazes as much as you thought it would.

“I can help,” you offered, holding out your hands to take some of the weight off of Eddie.

“It’s too heavy, baby,” Eddie said as he brushed a kiss across your temple as he walked into the living room.

You sighed. It was hard having to keep your distance from him after three months of always being alone together. You had gotten into a routine of soft kisses and music playing as you made breakfast together. He had practically moved into your apartment at this point.

You were both aware that you were moving fast but it was the way the circumstances lined up for the two of you.

You sat on the floor next to Eddie, ready to dig into the pizza you had been dreaming about. Eddie smiled at you knowingly, he knew how much you had wanted this.

He fussed over you before you ate, making sure you had a pillow to sit on and a blanket covering your lap so you wouldn’t get cold.

You were both so caught up in your little love that you didn’t realize the hush that fell over the group as they took in what was happening.

Steve broke the silence leaning over to open the pizza box as it sat on top of the coffee table. You did a little shimmy, excited for the food.

That was, until the smell hit you.

It hit your stomach, nothing like how you imagined all day. You felt the cold sweat break out on your forehead and you realized what was about to happen.

“Excuse me!” You yelled into your hand as you crawled over Eddie and ran into your hallway bathroom.

You heard Eddie curse and get up to chase after you as you made it to the toilet just in time to retch.

The morning sickness had been awful and you thought since you had been craving the pizza you’d actually be able to keep it down this time.

“You’re okay,” Eddie assured you as he crouched beside you, wiping a wet cloth against your face. The room still spun as you closed your eyes and leaned against him.

“We gotta figure out a way to get some food in you,” Eddie worried, chewing at some of his poor nails.

You reached up, pulling his hand out of his mouth.

“Doctor said this is normal. I’ll be able to eat eventually,” you told him as you pushed up, some of the dizziness easing and your senses clearing.

“Give your mom a break, kid,” Eddie whispered towards your stomach. You weren’t showing yet but Eddie made it a point to talk to your baby daily. He wanted to make sure his baby knew his dads voice.

You thought it was adorable.

“You’re pregnant?!” You heard Steve practically yell from the bathroom doorway, a glass of water held in his hands.

The rest of the group crowded behind him, staring at you and Eddie sitting on the floor with wide eyes.

“Surprise!” Eddie said in an enthusiastic voice.

You thought you were gonna be sick again. This wasn’t how you wanted to tell them. You wanted to break the news to them gently that while they were away you and Eddie had fallen completely in love.

You hadn’t meant to get pregnant so soon into your relationship but you wouldn’t do anything to change it.

You held your breath, tensing up as they all continued to stare at you. Only letting out a breath in relief when you heard the loud voices of them arguing over who was going to be the favorite aunt or uncle.

“I told you it would be okay,” Eddie mumbled into your neck as he pulled you close.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring the fact that you were both still sitting in front of the toilet.

“I love you, but you need to brush your teeth,” Eddie said to you, making you laugh and roll your eyes at the same time.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Text

Steve loves Eddie's tummy.

It is one of the absolute best parts of Eddie — the softness of his hips, the little pudge of his belly, the squish of his abdomen. It's Steve's favorite place to nuzzle into, to kiss, to touch, to bite.

Most evenings end with the two of them curled together on the couch, watching whatever movie or television show catches their interest that night. They usually start out side by side on the cushions, but over the course of that first hour they slowly but surely shift around so that Steve ends up with his head in Eddie's lap. Eddie's fingers always find a home in Steve's hair, absentmindedly carding through the soft strands.

It's cozy, it's comfortable, and at some point, Steve will sigh softly and turn to bury his face into Eddie's stomach. Whatever's on tv becomes nothing more than background noise as he rubs his cheek against Eddie's tummy, as he nuzzles into the softness, arms loosely wound around Eddie's waist to hold him there. He'll leave a sweet kiss over Eddie's t-shirt, then squish his nose against his belly button and just lie there, face pressed into Eddie's stomach, just breathing.

Just enjoying the closeness.

Eddie will laugh softly and tell Steve that he's missing the movie, and Steve will just shake his head briefly and mumble back that he doesn't care. (It makes Eddie laugh again and squirm a little, because Steve's so close that the movement of his head, of his mouth — it tickles a little.)

But Eddie won't question it again, will just let Steve nuzzle against him and continue to pet his hair until he eventually falls asleep like that.

Steve also loves to shower Eddie's tummy with all the attention when they're in the bedroom (or wherever they make it to before they get too carried away) and are getting hot and heavy.

He loves to press Eddie back into the mattress, bare chested and breathing harder already. Steve will kiss him deeply, once, twice, three times, before he starts his descent. It starts with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, to the scar along his cheek, to the sharp of his jaw. Then Steve will press soft, sweet kisses to the hollow of Eddie's throat, the edge of his collar, one over his heart and another over the scar tissue where his left nipple would be. He'll trail those kisses down Eddie's ribcage, taking his time with it, showing each patch of scarred skin the love and attention it deserves. He'll leave a kiss right above his belly button, will sometimes dip his tongue in if he wants to make Eddie laugh.

And when he finally makes it to the soft pouch of Eddie's tummy, he'll kiss it. Gently, affectionately, tenderly. And then — he'll bare his teeth and he'll bite. Nothing too hard (unless Eddie asks for it), but he'll sink his teeth into the pudge, he'll nibble at the softness, he'll start to suck bruises into the skin until Eddie's squirming below him and straining in his boxers. Sometimes Steve will tease a little more, will kiss the parts of his tummy that are close to the waistband, his nose or cheek brushing over where Eddie wants him to touch the most. Other times he'll show Eddie some mercy, will leave one last kiss to his stomach before turning his attention even lower.

But he never forgets to show Eddie just how sexy he finds his tummy.

The touching isn't always sexual, though. There's something comforting to Steve about just touching for the sake of touch. And Eddie's tummy is one of his favorite places to do just that. He'll take any and every opportunity he gets to get his hands all over the softness of his stomach.

When Eddie's in the kitchen, standing at the stove to cook their breakfast Steve will sleepily trudge up to him and drape himself over his back. He'll tuck his chin over Eddie's shoulder, and he'll curl his arms around Eddie's middle, hugging onto him. Steve's hands will sneak their way beneath the hem of Eddie's shirt (or, his shirt, because Eddie has a habit of stealing Steve's clothes, especially in the mornings), and he'll just press the flat of his whole palm to Eddie's belly. Just to cover the warm skin. Just to touch.

Or whenever they're in a crowded room together — whether it be the bustling kitchen of the Hopper-Byers clan on Thanksgiving, or the middle of the thriving dancefloor of their favorite club in Indy, or squished together in the audience at a show, Steve will always find a way to touch Eddie there.

He'll hold onto Eddie's hips, curling his fingers around the love handles. Using his touch to shift Eddie out of the way when Mike barrels through with the kitchen without warning, hoisting the pie above his head. Staking his claim with his grip and the reassuring thumb he sweeps across the soft skin, dipping beneath the waistband of Eddie's jeans when he's feeling cheeky as a promise for more later. Squeezing gently when the crowd surges and jostles them both to say "hey, it's just me, I'm right here".

Steve just loves Eddie's lil tum, and he'll do anything and everything in his power to show him that. To shower him and his soft stomach with all the love in the world.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munsons soft tummy my beloved <3 #(LOL that tag autopopulated but its RIGHT)#anyways steve loves eddies lil tum and SO DO I!!!#and also this all gets uno reversed right back at steve!!! bc after hs and after the UD stuff ends he can finally relax & finally not WORRY #and so he gets softer. squishier. and eddie LOVES it on steve just as much as steve loves it on him #they are both Tummy Guys #they are tummy4tummy #just let steve and eddie be soft and squishy and in love!!!

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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strawberryspence · 2 years

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PART 1

Eddie did not know what to do. It was one mistake, made in a dimly lit bar, and he honestly doesn’t even remember the guy’s name. Was it John? Jeremy? Jason? It was one guy, he never even flirts anymore but Steve looked so good that night that it hurt. Hurt so bad he needed someone to temporarily fill that gaping hole in his heart. Because how can Steve Harrington ever want him in any way?

His mother, Cecilia Munson, used to call him sweetheart at the softest times of the day, sunlight dancing through their rooms, just for the two of them. He remembers being nine, young, sharp edged from his father, wondering why anyone would look at him and call him sweetheart, not when he hot wires cars and pick locks. His mother smiles sweetly at him, explaining, “You, Eddie Munson, have the kindest and biggest heart. I call you sweetheart because I love you.”

Of course, Eddie’s in love with Steve. Of course, he calls Steve sweetheart because he loves him. How can anyone not fall in love with him? He calls Steve sweetheart because its true. Steve is a sweetheart. Steve’s sweet with the biggest kindest heart he’s ever seen on anyone. Sure, he wasn’t the best in high school, but he’s proven that he’s better now time and time again.

He gets a visit from Dustin two days after the bar incident, pounding at his door like a hurricane. When he finally opens the door, Dustin’s red faced with anger, “You’re fucking lucky I love you or I would’ve bought Erica Sinclair with me.”

Before he can even ask what’s happening, Dustin’s listing the ways Erica can hide a body, never to be found again. Eddie sighs. The group knows now, of course, they would. News spreads like wild fire with the kids. It’s because of those damn walkies they have (he can’t begrudge them for it when it once aided in saving his ass.)

“How did you find out?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?!”

Dustin shrugs, “He’s got vendetta against you now. I don’t know dude, they’ve always had a weird friendship. Max thinks they were a throuple at some point, Lucas thinks they’ve got a thing going on just the two of them and Will won’t say anything.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie’s not one for jealousy but there’s something green cruising through his veins right now and he hates it with a burning passion. He needs Dustin to leave so he can scream into a pillow, or maybe sob in the shower.

“Why are you here?”

“I am here to make sure you fix this shit you fucked.”

Eddie looks up at him with surprise as Dustin crossed his arms, eyebrows raised, “Everyone knows Steve’s the biggest sweetheart. He may hide it with his big hair or his sarcasm, but we all know. If you do like him, which you do, you dumb ass. You have to fix this, Eddie. I haven’t seen Steve this upset before and I was there when Nancy dumped him.”

Eddie blanches at the statement, it tears straight to his heart at the fact that he made his sweetheart upset. God, he's an idiot.

The next morning Eddie goes into mission mode with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a bag of cookies he bought from the bakery on the other as he arrives at the Harrington’s mansion. He’s gonna fix this today, come hell or high water.

Robin answers the door and Eddie’s sure he’s never seen her look more feral and that’s saying a lot when they've fought a magical evil wizard together. Robin’s looking at him like she’ll gauge his eyes out if he makes a wrong move, which he deserves.

Eddie asks for Steve and before he can finish the door is shut to his face. Well, he deserves that too. So he knocks again, ringing the doorbell as annoyingly as he can.

Robin opens again, nostrils flaring, “What do you want Munson? If you’re here to make my best friend cry again, I am asking you to leave now.”

“Robin, I just want to talk to him. I want to apologize. I made a mistake and I want to fix that mistake.”

“Then what? You're gonna go calling him sweetheart again without strings attached?”

“You know that’s not what it is. You know, Robin.”

And she does know. She knows about Eddie’s feelings for her best friend and the fear of not being good enough for Steve. Robin’s afraid no one will ever be good enough for her Steve but before the bar incident, she thought Eddie’s the closest thing to good enough.

For a second, Eddie can see Robin soften, then she shakes her head, “No.” Robin says, her back straightening.

Robin’s about to close the door again when Steve comes into view. A blanket draped over his shoulders, hair messy, glasses askew. If it was any other situation Eddie might’ve swooned at how soft he looks like but he’s eyes are red rimmed from crying and Eddie hates himself even more.

“Let him in, Rob.” Robin stands solid at the doorway, not moving. Steve looks at her wearily, “Robin.” They have another one of their silent conversations, before Robin gives up, “Fine.” She leaves the door open before marching up the stairs to give them privacy.

Eddie hands him the daisies and the cookies, Steve smiling down at it before inviting him into the living room with a small smile.

“I am sorry.” They both blurt out at the same time. Eddie’s not even sure to why Steve’s apologizing. Steve then goes on a tangent about how sorry he is for making the assumption that the name sweetheart is only for him and that it meant something more. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, it was his and his only. He says it’s okay and he didn’t deserve Eddie in the first place and he wasn’t that special. Every word just crushes Eddie even more. How can Steve think he doesn’t deserve Eddie? Him of all the people?

Eddie can’t do anything but scoop him up in his arms, trying his best to give him the best hug in the world as he apologizes for his mistake. Eddie assures him that he is Eddie’s only sweetheart and Steve didn’t make anything up in his head. Eddie tells him he is in love with him, and Steve tears up but at least there's a big smile on his face.

Then and there, Eddie makes the decision to show Steve the love he deserves, to woo him off his ass. Eddie loves him, through and through, and Steve’s always gonna be his sweetheart and if in 50 years they don’t end up together, Eddie will never call anyone else sweetheart, because that’s for Steve, his nail bat yielding, bad ass, sweetheart.

They don’t kiss. Content with just being in each others arms, knowing their true feelings for each other. (Also because Eddie feels like he needs to earn it) Robin goes down when it gets too quiet, and when she sees them in the couch she smiles sweetly at the image of the two of them tangled together.

She walks up on them, “I am so glad you two made up.” Eddie’s smiling up at her when Robin’s fist hits his nose.

“ROBIN!!!” Steve’s clutching him, he’s pretty sure his nose is bleeding and when Eddie looks up, Robin’s holding her fist like it hurt her to punch, but she’s grinning the biggest grin Eddie’s ever seen on her face.

“Again, I am glad you two made up. I love you both very much. But if I you make him cry again, that’s not the only thing I am breaking.” Robin smiles before kissing their heads and heading to the kitchen to get him an ice pack.

They look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter as Steve tries to wipe his bleeding nose with his own hand.

Eddie does woo Steve. On the third date Eddie planned for them, Steve finally kisses him. They’re in his car and Eddie’s rambling about his new campaign and how the kids loved it. Steve kisses him mid-way the conversation. The kiss itself, Eddie thinks, is just as sweet as Steve. Steve holds him like he’s the best thing in this universe and like it’s a privilege to be kissing him, rather than the other way around.

Eddie does not stop wooing Steve. He picks him flowers in random fields, takes him on dates, makes him dinner, leaves tiny notes on his bathroom mirror, (he also woos him amazingly in bed), packs him lunches, makes him mixtapes, burns CDs, and, three decades later, playlists.

They’re 40, Steve found his first grey hair yesterday and Eddie’s knees hurt more often that it should. But Eddie still calls Steve sweetheart. Their kids cringe at their parents and their vintage pet name for each other, but their smiles don’t hide the fact that they adore their parents love.

Steve knows he’s special, because Eddie Munson calls him sweetheart for the rest of their lives.

Eddie knows he deserves this life, this love, because Steve Harrington loves him.

#MY BABIES #BOTH IDIOTS BUT I LOVE THEM #daeheadcanons #steddie #steddie rants #steddie headcanon #steddie fic rec #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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littlelioncub43 · 2 years

Text

Wake Up Call

Summary: Mornings were absolutely divine, especially in the company of one sweetheart of a metalhead— Eddie Munson. Even if he wasnt much of a morning person. You show him just how good a morning can be when you're together.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, blowjobs, oral sex (m receiving), morning sex, reader loves giving Eddie head, Eddie being a screamer, Eddie's morning voice, established relationship, face fucking, deep throating, crying during sex (not the reader), Eddie being a sweetheart, and a partidge in a pear tree.

Word count: I have no clue, babes, I wrote this on my phone 🥰

A/N: Holy shit. I am so self-conscious about this fic, you guys! I haven't posted a full length one-shot in so unbelievably long. I feel rusty. But! I'm posting it anyways! I still feel really good about this one. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a fax, a telegram, a kindly worded email— I would really love the feedback 🥰 it's nice to be back to writing, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Ok, I'll let you go now. I love you 💖

Kisses 💋

—K

The morning was still, a simple, peaceful hush hanging over the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Birds whistled their songs in a gentle voice, the trees barely rustling in the breeze as the world dreamt a little while longer. With the sun peeking over the horizon and Wayne already en route to work, the little trailer was serenity embodied.

You'd been up for a while doing nothing in particular as you waited for dawn to break. You loved watching the sun rise from Eddie's bed, the sunlight always seemed to pure shining through his curtains. With the new light slowly filling the room, you were finally able to properly see your boyfriend. Eddie lies beside you on his back, hands tossed across his chest haphazardly, his hair tossled carelessly around his face in a halo of chocolate curls and locks. The blanket that covers you both hung low on his hips, showing off the tattoos scattered across his alabaster skin, he ran a little hot at night and the summer heat was enough for him to toss the blankets aside. Your eyes trace the lovebites you left all along his exposed throat and the scratches along his meaty shoulder, a pleasant result of last night's vigorous activities.

The familiar surge of desire floods your body at the memory of last night, it sends a shiver up your bare spine. You bring one hand to his warm chest, drawing lazy lines as you scoot closer and closer to him. A smile tugs at your lips when Eddie twitches slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin like yours. Your hand glides lower and lower, you weren't in a hurry, no. There was more than enough time in the world for you two, right now.

As your fingers brush along the light dusting of hair on his tummy, Eddie can't help but shiver. Even in his sleep, Eddie was always so responsive; aching for your touch, your kisses, your love. He rolled his head to the side, breathing peacefully as he sleeps still. You watch his face for any signs of consciousness, when you find none, you chuckle softly. Your hand teases the edge of the blanket the covers his lower half. A prominent tent rests between his legs, the sight of it has you moaning softly. Your mouth watered with a hunger you knew well, you needed to taste him.

"G'morning, Princess," a raspy voice slurs. You heard the smile in his words well before you saw it. His face was soft from his slumber, eyes puffy but warm with love, his annoyingly charming smile lazily strung across his pink lips.

"Good morning," you whisper, bringing your hand back up to cup his cheek, leaning in so your lips brush against his ever so slightly. Eddie wastes no time closing the distance between you two. Eddie hums happily into the kiss when he feels your body melting into his, your legs tangling with his, his nornally bright voice was always unbearably deep and husky in the morning. The movement of his lips on yours distracts you enough from his arms slowly capturing your waist, holding you to him. He needed his morning kiss to function.

Finally, when breathing became a priority, Eddie relaxed his head back down on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Two rough hands slid across the bareness of your back soothingly as he looked up at you, he noticed the gleam in your eyes, even in the low light of early morning. The realization of your desire made his grin grow twice as big, his cock twitching excitedly with his heart.

"Whatcha lookin' at me like that for, pretty girl?" He teases, he knows exactly what you want. He just loves hearing you say it. You bite your plump lip to suppress a smirk, your hand leaving his cheek to float down his throat and chest.

"I wanna taste you, Eddie," you purr to him, not missing the way his pupils dilate at your confession, a shiver racking his body as your fingers tease the skin at the edge of the blanket once more. Your lips descend to his collarbones, sucking at the pale skin in the way you know drives him wild. "Please?"

"F-Fuck, yes. You can taste me, Princess," he whispers as if the air was knocked from his lungs. The devious pleased giggle you make against the curve of his neck is absolutely sinful, but Eddie can't help but grin wickedly with you. He feels your kisses deepen as you dip lower and lower, your hand finally cupping his morning wood gently— you always were a little tease.

The deep groan that rumbles in Eddie's chest when your warm fist surrounds his base echoes in the brightening room. Streaks of sunshine finally cutting through the blinds to illuminate your actions perfectly. Eddie lifts his head to watch your hand stroke him beneath the blanket, the duvet shrouding your movements, making it that much more erotic.

"Oh fucking hell, that's good," he groans, his hips pushing into your hand eagerly.

"Yeah?" You taunt softly, speeding your hand up ever so slightly. A surprised yelp breaks his deep moans when your teeth nip at the black widow spider inked into his chest, you give the demon head just below it a tender kiss with a pleased giggle before dropping lower and lower. The wet kisses you leave along his body has Eddie fisting the pillow beneath his head.

He fucking loved when you sucked him off, especially since you fucking loved doing it. The way you'd drop to your knees and take him into your mouth so happily, so eagerly— Eddie was wrapped around your little finger from now until the end of time.

"Jesus Christ," he sighs when you toss the blanket down and settle between his legs. You drag your free hand down his side, still steadily jerking him off with the other. You hum at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, your hand slowing down to appreciate the way his shaft pulses. Your mouth waters to taste the beads of salty precum that ooze from him, but instead you latch on to his twitching thigh, biting the flesh there as you continue to teasingly stroke him.

"Mmmm," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you taste his skin, the heady scent of his manhood filling your senses. The strong yet lean muscle of Eddie's thigh tenses as you inch higher and higher. As much as he wants to believe you'll finally take him into your mouth, he knows better. His guess is proved right when you switched to his neglected thigh, opting to decorate it with hickeys and bites as you did the first one.

"Fuck— Princess, please, have mercy," he groans with a smile, his hands gripping the pillow a little harder. You chuckle and answer him with a kiss to the most recent hickey you were working on. Eddie watches as you finally bring your tongue to his head, he watches the pink muscles greedily clear away the drops of precum.

"O-Oh, fuck, yes," he moans as your lips encase his tip, his eyes fluttering. Yours stay on his face, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and crease with pleasure. With a slack jaw, Eddie lets out the pretties sounds you've ever heard; deep, throaty moans that bubbled from the pit of his chest and echoed throughout the unclean bedroom. His words slur together as you take more of his length into you, finding a slow and steady pace to bob your head.

This happened every single time, he couldn't believe how fucking good your mouth felt. How hot, how soft, how fucking wet you were. You moan as he fills your mouth, your hand not holding his base strokes his hip and inner thigh, knowing how sensitive he was there. The shivers you get in return tell you that he loves it. The vibrations of your moan has Eddie's hips twitching, stuffing more of himself into your throat.

"F-Fuck! Fucking hell!" He curses through his teeth, his eyes shut tight as he tries to calm down.

"Mmmmm," you moan again, watching as his face contorts once more.

"Jesus!" He shouts a little louder than intended, his eyes opening only to roll as you speed up ever so slightly. The sloppy sounds of his cock slowly fucking your mouth was going to drive him crazy. "Baby, ple— a-ah!— faster! Faster, God, please, faster!"

The rawness of his voice and his begging was more than enough to convince you. With a deep breath through your nose, you speed up. Your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft to guard him from your bottom teeth, and your hand moving from his base to cup his balls. The moment your soft hand comes into contact with his aching balls, Eddie does all he can do to keep from screaming; his balled up fist shoved into his mouth.

"Ohhhhmygod!" He cries from behind his hand as you play with his balls, his body writhes uncontrollably at the onslaught of indescribable pleasure. One, two, three more bobs of your head and you've swallowed him completely, your nose brushing against the patch of dark curls at his groin and his tip nestled deep in the heat of your throat. Unable to fight it anymore, Eddie's hand leaves the pillow to grip the back on your head fiercely, an unintelligible scream pitifully muffled by his fist.

The sounds erupting from your lover above you has arousal practically spilling from your untouched cunt. Your thighs rub together with need as Eddie's thighs tremble and spread for you. The grip he has on your head limits your movements, unable to pull off more than an inch or two, at best. In quick, jerking motions, he fucks your face eagerly as he listens to you gag around him. Your eyes, clouded with tears, flutter shut, allowing yourself to lose yourself in his pleasure.

Soon, you both find a rhythm. It's fast and dirty, primal, frenzied, lustful. Perfect. Eddie's deep moans raise in pitch, now sounding like a pitiful whimpering mess. Your own moans grow in frequency, knowing he's close to blowing his load down your throat, just like you want. The twitching of his cock signals his impending high.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!" Water gathers at his lower lashes. He couldn't help himself.

Eddie's head slowly begins to lift off the bed, his abs contracting as the pleasure mounts higher and higher, his voice suddenly gone. His hand leaves his mouth to join the other on your head, his fingers going rigid, his eyes stare up at the ceiling in an unfocused gaze, chin tilted towards the heavens as his pretty brown orbs roll and flutter uncontrollably. The smart mouth that is quick with a joke or a witty comment is left hung open in a silent scream, he holds his breath, his entire body drawing painfully taught when the pleasure is suddenly too much for him to take.

The first rope of his hot seed shoots into your throat as Eddie goes still, tears spilling over. He swears on everything holy that he's ascended to heaven, his vision is white and blinded with bursts of light as you milk him dry. You pet his hip as he cums, swallowing his seed with eager gulps, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Each time your throat contracts around his length, his muscles pull tighter.

Finally, the last bit of his cum is cast out from his body. The strength quickly drains from Eddie, his grip loosens from your hair as he falls back on to the mattress, his eyes drooping shut on their own accord. You release him with a pop, gasping to catch your own breath. Through the water in your eyes, you see Eddie's relaxed face, his body limp above you.

"Eddie?" You call softly, your voice gravelly from your throat being wrecked. When you get no response, you crawl up his body, taking note of his breathing and erratic heartbeat. He's out cold.

You can't help but laugh a little before gently petting his sweaty head, brushing his bangs off his sticky forehead. Eddie comes back to you softly tapping his cheek, his ears ring like a bitch but he can hear your melodious voice over the din.

"Eddie, baby, wake up, come on, open your eyes for me, honey," you sound far away, but your words get clearer and clearer. The first thing he sees is your relieved smile, and he just can't help but tiredly smile back. "Hi, there, handsome. You ok?"

"Huh-huh," he grumbles from deep in his chest, speaking was far too complicated for him right now. You had well and truly sucked him stupid. Sleepily, he nuzzles into your hand that now cradles his cheek.

"Ready for a nap, big boy?" You coo and pull the blanket over you both. He hums an affirmative and weakly slings an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. On instinct, you bury your face into his neck as you settle in beside him.

A nap couldn't hurt.

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afewproblems · 8 months

Text

Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask".

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?'

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?"

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?"

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged".

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window.

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?"

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night.

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack.

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb.

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street.

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake.

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything.

If anything, Eddie has more questions.

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot.

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue.

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?"

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?"

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone.

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him".

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt".

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.

And Wayne would never hurt him.

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse".

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…"

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?"

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday".

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos.

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end.

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again.

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!"

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers.

"Dustin?"

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

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