#c: eddie munson.

[ghcstpyre]

i can't stop thinking about eddie dating psychic powers!reader. he's freaked out the first time you show him what you can do, eyes wild and hand movements dramatic and frantic, but he immediately jumps to help you out when your nose starts to bleed. you've always wanted to tell him about this part of yourself, but how the hell is anyone supposed to go about telling their best friend and boyfriend about being able to move things with their mind? it's definitely not a common occurrence, that's for sure.

after his initial fear and confusion fizzle out, eddie can't help but bombard you with questions; how long have you been able to do it? does it hurt? what's the heaviest thing you can move? can you make people float?

you're sheepish, but you do admit that you might've used them a few times to roll the odd nat 20 during hellfire dnd sessions. instead of being angry like you thought he might be, eddie is endlessly amused and starts trying to convince you to help him pull pranks on the assholes who constantly harass you and the other members of hellfire at school.

shenanigans ensue. high school is a lot more interesting after that.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #c: eddie munson. #im on mobile so I'll format this when im back home

[brookemcddox]

“God, Jake! I can get myself home, leave me alone!” Brooke shouted, tears stinging her eyes as she stormed away from her ex. They’d been arguing for the most of the evening, both of them too drunk to realise how counter productive it was. They were supposed to be having fun, so whilst Brooke had intended to spend the night with her friends, she’d wasted it instead, which infuriated her even more. “Asshole!” As she bit her final reply, she turned back around, causing her to bump into the person who’d been standing near the gate. “Did you not see me walking here? Seriously? I was trying to do a whole thing.” Brooke squinted through the darkness, and it didn’t take her long to decipher who’d witnessed her outburst. “Eddie? Of course it’s you.” 

#bwrpstarters #interaction. #c: eddie munson. #december 2018. #OVERDUE <3 #event: new year 2019.

[riality-check]

The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

#ria writes #this au needs a tag #uhhh #d&c au #there we go #dilf & concert #this was inspired by me seeing ice nine kills open for metallica #in case you couldn't tell #as well as the really cool dad and kid i sat next to #at fall out boy #shoutout to them #they were awesome #anyway #real tags time! #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson #dilf steve harrington

[kiwicider]

heaven’s on fire - eddie munson

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie likes to think he corrupted you.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ ! a bit of a corruption kink, pet names, hair pulling, teasing, kissing, fingering (sorta), one slap, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks !!)

a/n: im so down bad for eddie im surprised i didnt put this out earlier

“Y’know Eddie, I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence.” 

Long fingers ran down your thigh, playing with the white hem of your skirt, inching it up to reveal more of your skin. 

“Now, what would make you think that, sweetheart?” He feigned disbelief, words muffled as he pressed kisses onto your warm neck. 

“Well, for one—hey, watch those fingers, Munson,” you scolded him, elbowing his ribs softly. “Making me sneak out for you? It's a bit crazy, don’t you think?” 

Eddie laughed against your skin, the sweet sound making a smile pull at the corners of your lips. “I’m so sorry angel, how dare I corrupt you!” His fingers ran up your side, a shriek escaping your lips as they dug into your waist. 

“Oh you’re an asshole, Munson!” 

“But you’re still in my bed, hm? My star cheerleader,” Eddie teased, pulling you closer into his chest and nipping at the junction between your neck and shoulder. He ran his tongue over the skin when you hissed in pain, soothing it with a kiss. 

You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging it softly. “I’m here totally against my will, by the way.” 

“Yeah, totally.” 

He continued pressing hot, open mouthed kisses onto your neck, his hand pulling your skirt up to the creases of your thighs, exposing the pink cotton panties you wore. The rings on his fingers felt cool against the increasing temperature of your skin, a shudder running through your body as he ghosted his fingertips across your mound. 

“Munson, don’t play around,” you breathed out. 

“C’mon, feelin’ needy already?” he asked teasingly. “I haven’t even touched you yet.” 

You pinched his jean clad thigh, eliciting a hiss from his mouth, his large hand coming down to slap your thigh in retaliation. 

“I swear to God I’ll leave, Munson,” you began, pushing yourself forward and off of his chest.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he exclaimed. “Patience goes a long way, angel.” He wrapped an arm around your waist tightly, bringing you flush against his chest. 

Eddie’s free hand pushed your skirt further up, the hunter green material bunched up around your stomach and leaving you exposed to him. You leaned your head back with a soft groan as he pushed your panties to the side, middle finger moving up and down your slit teasingly slow. 

Your head buzzed every time you felt his metal ring nudge against your clit, his Black Sabbath cassette playing softly in the background the only thing that kept you grounded as he added another finger. Bringing your hand down to his, you gripped it tightly as a silent plea for him to apply more pressure. 

“Don’t make me stop,” Eddie murmured into your shoulder, brown tendrils of hair falling near your face. “Relax.” 

“Please, Ed,” you begged, “give me something.”

“You’re so lucky I’m feeling nice today,” he mumbled, nimble fingers dragging your slick up to your clit, circling it softly. 

Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, you felt the muscles in your thighs tighten as he sped up his pace. “Oh shit, like that, Eddie.”

Wanton moans left your lips as he kept circling your bud, his fingers moving faster until you couldn’t do anything except grip his bed sheets. Flashes of heat rushed over your body like waves, the coil in your stomach feeling like it was so close to snapping—until he dragged his fingers away from you. 

Your eyes shot open, hands loosening from the sheets. “Eddie—fuck, I was so close!” you cried out. 

He scooted up the bed until his back hit the headboard, large hands maneuvering your body until you were facing him. Moving his hands to your ass, Eddie squeezed it roughly, cold rings digging into your hot flesh. 

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you sweetheart?” His voice was taunting, head tilted to the side as his eyes glinted beneath the dim bedroom lights. “C’mon, I wanna see you cum on my cock.” 

You paused, lips parted in disbelief for a moment before you placed your hands onto his shoulders, lifting your body up to rest your knees on either side of his thighs. The buckle of his belt clinked as he undid it, fingers moving skillfully to loosen it and unbutton his pants. Hearing his zipper lower was like music to your ears, eyes watching hungrily as he shoved his jeans down until you could see his briefs. 

He got them halfway down his thighs before your fingers pulled at the waistband of his briefs impatiently, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his cock sprang free. 

“C’mon,” he murmured, bringing his hand onto your hip and squeezing it, “be good to me.” 

Giving him a few quick pumps, you scooched closer and raised your hips to lower yourself onto him, the stretching sensation drawing a loud moan from your lips. He watched the way your face twisted with pleasure as you took him all in, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. 

Bringing a hand up to your scalp, his fingers curled around your strands of hair as he pulled them. The action caused your mouth to open with a moan, and he took the opportunity to pull you into a fervent kiss, the clash of teeth and tongue making him smile against your lips. You tasted like mint chapstick and the strawberry lollipop you’d been sucking on earlier in the day, the odd combination intoxicating to Eddie. 

“Takin’ me so well honey,” he mumbled against your lips, hands moving beneath your pleated skirt to steady your hips as you found a rhythm. 

“You’re so—fuck, big,” you drawled, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“And you feel like heaven.” Eddie bit back a moan, his fingers gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises.

“Y’sure you know what that feels like?” you breathed out. 

Eddie’s head lulled back onto the headboard, eyes closed as a smirk pulled his pretty pink lips upward. “I feel it every time I’m in you, angel.”

A wave of heat rushed over you, skin feeling like it had been lit aflame with every word that left his mouth. You continued bouncing on him, back arched like a cat as incoherent mumbles and moans escaped from his parted lips. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, “so fucked out. Never thought I’d see you like this all those months ago.” 

You sucked in a deep breath, stomach tightening as you kept moving. “You made me this way, Munson,” you replied with a faint smile. “Absolutely corrupted me.” 

He let out a laugh, wrapping an arm around your midsection to bring you flush against his body. “And you’re stuck with me, sweetheart.” 

Holding up your skirt with one hand, he brought the other between you and ran his thumb up your slit, rubbing circles onto your clit. A broken moan sounded throughout the room as warmth bloomed beneath your skin, the sensation creating tingles that began at your toes and made their way up. 

Eddie began pistoning up into you as your movements became sloppier, chasing his own release while working on yours. Curls stuck to his temples with sweat, exposed forearms flexing and putting his various tattoos on full display. 

You clenched around him as your orgasm washed over you, thighs shaking and broken moans escaping your lips as he talked you through it, soft praises contrasting against his rough pace. The sensation was enough for him to cum right after you, warmth spreading inside of you as you caught your breath. 

Forehead dropping to rest against his chest, you closed your eyes at the sound of his rapid heartbeat. 

“So, how does a sleepover sound?” he asked sleepily, the sound of his head knocking against the headboard making you laugh softly.

“It sounds really, really good.”

© 2022 KIWICIDER - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things season 4 #st4 #c: munson

[slavicviking]

Yellow

@steddiemicrofic December prompt: pine | wc: 508 | G | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, pre-Steddie

“Looking good, Nance. Did you do something with your hair?” Nancy did not. She knew for a fact her curls looked worse for wear thanks to the raging wind outside. Steve knew that, too – had to, with his in-depth knowledge of maintaining hair, curls or not. Eddie stiffens next to her. “I’m here to return this,” Nancy pulls out a Breakfast Club tape from her bag with a forced smile. “Great movie choice,” Steve trudges on with otherwise admirable perseverance. The ugly green Family Video creases inelegantly as he leans forward. “I think it sucks,” Eddie jumps in. He grins but Nancy knows him well enough to tell how tense he really is. And isn’t that a wild thought in itself? Nancy would never expect to get along so well with Eddie Munson and yet here he was, dare she say it - her best friend at the moment. Steve lets out a nervous laugh, red dotting his cheeks as his hand ventures out to rub his neck. Robin’s bright eyes keep darting back and forth between two boys, an unreadable look on her face. “This is getting ridiculous,” Nancy says once she slips into the driver seat of her car. Eddie joins her on the other side, uncharacteristically quiet. Her eyebrows drop lower. “He’ll get over it soon. You’ll see.” “I don’t know, Wheeler. He seems pretty dedicated.” The thing is, Nancy’s observant. She pays attention to her close circle of friends, and that includes Steve. Something about this isn’t adding up – the compliments, the showering with attention. And it’s not only because she’s usually left with a morose Eddie, unfairly pining away, in the aftermath. It’s been going on for weeks now. Something’s got to give, eventually, she’s sure. It does, a week later, when Steve Harrington knocks on the Wheelers’ front door in the middle of the day, clad in an ironed shirt and beige khakis. “Here,” he hands her a bouquet of yellow roses. “They’re for you.” She makes a point of not taking them. They hang awkwardly between them until Steve drops his hand with a grimace. “We’re not getting back together,” Nancy tells him bluntly. Steve’s a good guy, he is, but he can be a bit obtuse sometimes. To her surprise, Steve doesn’t deter her. Instead, he blinks. “What?” “It’s sweet that you’re trying,” she tries. “But we wouldn’t work out. We just wouldn’t.” He blinks again. “I don’t-uh. This is awkward.” Understatement if she’s ever seen one. “I don’t want to date you, Nancy,” Steve finally says. He winces before adding. “No offense.” “Then what’s with this?” she points to the flowers. “The compliments? All of it?” He sighs. “I know we didn’t really end on good terms. And your opinion matters to him- I mean, he's just so-” “Him?” Nancy questions before realization dawns on her. “Eddie?” “Wait, does he think I – shit!” Steve’s eyes grow wide as he shoves the flowers into Nancy’s chest and backs out towards the car. “Shit! Sorry, Nance. Gotta go!”

Yellow Roses are the symbol of friendship <3

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficdecember #poor stevie just wants to mend his friendship with nancy but accidentally turns on flirting mode #steve to nancy: you look great today #steve to robin later: why didn't eddie want to look at me :c #another case of 'scenes i imagine in my steve/oc universe that will never see the light of day'

[neonghostlights]

Christmas Lights

A/N: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I said I was taking a break. In my defense I really am taking a break but I had this idea and had to write it.

Warnings: Fluffy, Neighbor!Eddie, Eddie smokes a lot of cigarettes, Reader and Eddie are mid to late 20's, Eddie's love language is acts of service.

You grumbled, cold hands slipping through the balled up maze of wires.

You had pulled out your box of christmas decorations from storage and were determined to have your house decorated and holly jolly before the day was over.

You had moved to this little house a month or so ago. It was modest, a two bedroom home at the end of Maple Street that needed a lot of love and care and you had a lot of love and care to provide. Right now though, it was your worst enemy along with the tangled up lights that you hadn’t properly put away after decorating your apartment last year.

It was your own damn fault.

You let out an annoyed huff, your breath blowing out in a cloudy puff in the cold December air.

“You need some help there, neighbor?” A voice crooned from behind you.

You jumped, and you would have dropped the lights if they weren’t wrapped around your wrists like some type of handcuffs.

You turned to face Eddie, your neighbor from right next door.

He was in his usual uniform of head to toe black but with a dark red beanie perched over his long hair. He had a cigarette perched between his lips and he looked at you with a face of concern that made you even more embarrassed than you already were.

He let out a breath of a laugh when he spied the way you were wrapped in the christmas lights. He plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and crushed it on the pavement behind him.

“Looks like you got yourself all tangled up,” he announced and your tummy did a little flip.

You looked down, embarrassed.

“Yeah, well, I was trying to get into the holiday spirit but..” you held up the tangled lights.

“I hope you weren’t planning on getting up on the roof by yourself,” he reprimanded you as he started working to unravel the lights from your limbs. His knitted gloves brushed up against your skin as he worked and you were jealous of how warm he probably was all bundled up like that.

You wanted to sneak your way up his jacket and steal some of his warmth.

You and Eddie had met when he helped you drag your couch up your porch stairs and into your living room when you were moving in. Since that day, he had made a point to help you with a lot of things. Car won’t start? He’s over in a heartbeat to fix it. Porch light out? He has an extra light bulb and up on your porch replacing it. No milk? No worries, he doesn’t have any either but he has to go to the store anyways.

Eddie had helped you time and time again throughout your few months living here and it made you feel kind of bad that he was always coming to your rescue like this.

“I wasn’t going to actually get on the roof,” you explained, thinking about how you planned on balancing on the ladder as you tried to figure out how to hang Christmas lights. You had never actually done it on your own before so this year was definitely going to be interesting in terms of decorating.

Eddie looked at you with a raised brow.

“Hey, if I fell off the ladder I was kind of hoping my neighbor would spot me lying in the bushes when he came out for his hourly smoke break,” you joked, poking him in the ribs with a finger as he choked out a raspy laugh.

There was a pause for a moment as Eddie got the lights out of your hands and started untangling them on his own.

“I can do it,” he muttered, so softly at first that you almost didn’t make out what he said.

“Excuse me?”

“I said I can hang them up for you. I was getting ready to put mine up too so I might as well,” he offered.

“Eddie, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that,” you complained, feeling bad that once again he was coming to your rescue.

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering. All I ask is that if I fall off the ladder you make sure I have a cigarette while I’m waiting for the ambulance,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh as he focused on getting the lights untangled.

It wasn’t long before Eddie had made you go inside where it was warm while he decorated your house for you.

You had refused at first, but he insisted that he wanted the final product to be a surprise for you.

You watched out the window as he tested the lights to make sure they worked, something that you had forgotten to do.

He turned sensing your stare through the blinds and gave you a cheeky wave. You rushed away from the window, shamed that he had caught you gawking at him like a teenager with a crush.

You sat for a moment, feeling useless before you decided to do something nice for Eddie, as a thank you.

There was a knock at the front door as you finished pouring the hot chocolate into mugs and topped them with marshmallows. The cookies sat cooling from the oven and the house smelled divine.

“I made some hot chocolate and cookies!” You called as he waved for you to come to the door.

He smiled, a wide smile that made you want to melt onto the floor like a snowman.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed as he took your arm and led you out the front door.

“Don’t open them,” he reminded you as he helped you down the steps, one at a time.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, not wanting to ruin whatever he was brewing up.

He positioned you somewhere in front of your house, both hands squeezing your shoulders for a moment as he put you in the right place.

He leaned down to you, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Open.”

You couldn’t help the gasp of awe as you stared up at the beautiful lights on your house. It was a mix of colors, hung expertly and framing your house like something out of a Christmas movie.

“It’s beautiful, Eddie,” you whispered, unable to help the tears pricking your eyes.

“Do you like it?” He asked, some uncertainty laced in his tone.

“I love it,” you said as you turned to look at him. “You have no idea how much I love it. Why do you always do such nice things for me?” You asked, needing to know after months of his kindness.

Eddie’s brow furrowed as he looked at you in confusion then understanding. He took his gloved hand and placed it gently on your cheek.

“Because you deserve to have nice things done for you.”

You weren’t sure if you moved first or if it was him but one moment Eddie was saying something sweet and the next your lips were on his, kissing him with the lights shining on your brightly.

When you broke apart, you smiled at each other and he pulled you close to him, content to not speak as you both soaked in what just happened.

It was perfect, the way you and Eddie held each other as the snow started to fall and it was something you thought about every Christmas for the rest of you and Eddie’s lives.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson c you #eddie munson comfort

[littleststarfighter]

‘Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea here, Harrington.’

‘I’m getting the wrong idea.’

#stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #I just wanted to some H/C #this should have happened #my fanart #arghh went too realistic #so nervous for friday #these two better survive

[infinite-orangepeel]

i’m sorry but they knew what they were doing with the light-wash levi’s…..

#like netflix i’m not complaining but #i’m staring and foaming at the mouth #steve harrington #steddie #joe keery #the babygirlification of steve harrington #babygirl steve harrington #steve x eddie #fruity four #stranger things #steddie brainrot #eddie x steve #steve harrington/eddie munson #stranger things steve #djotime #djo #djo decide #c: steve harrington #the steddie brainrot is real

[morganbritton132]

Eddie post a Tiktok that starts with him slouched on the couch, staring intensely at something beyond the camera. He flips the camera over to what he’s staring at which is Steve.

Steve is sitting on the coffee table, completely absorbed in a baseball game on the television. You can hear Eddie sigh and then whine, “Steeeeeve, pick where you want to get food from. I’m hungry!”

Steve barely acknowledges him so Eddie just starts listing out places to get food from. He’s finally like, “We can get pizza and have it delivered. Like, uh, I don’t know. Little Caesars. Wanna have Little Caesars?”

Steve, giving Eddie a weird look: Preferrably, I’d like to not have any seizures

Eddie:

Eddie: ??

Steve: They’re not very fun, Eddie

#Eddie: With a C #Steve: That’s not how it’s spelled #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[ghcstpyre]

eddie munson x gn!reader

eddie helps you make your first dnd character.

content: eddie & r are friends, no descriptions of r's appearance, no pronouns used for r, no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of smoking weed

word count: 1.8k

( yes i used the 5e rules for this because i'm lazy, please don't come for me for not being 100% time period accurate lmao )

hellfire club banner by @/strangergraphics

"So I have to roll these dice to determine my character's stats?”

The paper of your character sheet crinkled and Eddie's shitty mattress creaked as you leaned over the Dungeons and Dragons books splayed out between you to reach for the only regular dice apparently used in this game. The Hellfire boys assured you that you'd get to grips with all the different kinds of dice in no time, but you begged to differ.

Eddie had finally convinced you to have a go at playing DnD with him and the other boys from Hellfire. You'd lost count of how many times he'd begged you to give it a try, but it was only a matter of time before you caved to those big, doey, brown eyes of his.

Much to Eddie's delight, the day you finally caved came and you were now in his trailer, sat cross-legged across from him on his bed with sheets of paper, books, dice and pencils cluttering the space between you as he helped you make your character. The faint sounds of W.A.S.P could be heard playing quietly in the background through his record player.

"That's right; roll four of these guys six times and remove the lowest result each time you roll." Eddie explained, dropping the normal dice - or the D6s as he insisted they be called - into the palm of your hand. "Add each roll up and then you can assign them to the stat you want.”

You sat back down, your character sheet crinkling again with your movements, Eddie's black and red ombre dice clutched in your hand. As you prepared to roll them onto the large, hardback Player's Handbook in the middle of the mess of paper, a crease appeared in your brow in confusion.

"But...what if my rolls are, like, really shit?" You asked.

That signature devilish grin crept its way across Eddie's face, paired with that usual mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then I guess you'll just be playing on hard mode.”

You shot him a pointed look and he laughed, that wonderful sound filling up his little bedroom.

"I'm kidding. Obviously if all of them are shitty I'll let you reroll, I'm not a complete sadist."

The furrow in your brow disappeared, instead being replaced by a small, amused smirk as you raised an eyebrow. "You so are."

Eddie gasped and reeled back dramatically, clutching at his chest as if he'd been shot in the heart. You shoulders began to shake as you giggled at his dramatics and that familiar fluttering sensation began to bloom beneath your ribcage while Eddie tried to regain his balance. He leant forward again, his pointy elbows resting on the little parts of exposed knee peeking through the rips in his jeans.

You'd been aware of these budding feelings for Eddie for a few months now. At first you thought the giddy feeling that bubbled within you whenever you saw him was just joy over a new friendship, but as time passed you began to realise that, nope, what you were feeling was actually the beginnings of a crush.

A crush you were very much convinced was unrequited.

Before said crush could get a glance at what you assumed was some sort of lame, lovestruck look on your face, you squashed that fluttering feeling down as best you could and began to roll the dice.

Eddie watched closely as you shook the dice in your hands and rolled for your stats. His chocolate brown eyes studied your face as they usually did when he knew - or was pretty damn sure - you weren't looking. The slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the cute little Cupid's bow in your top lip, and the tip of your tongue that he could just spy poking out from between your lips as you concentrated on adding your rolls up and jotting them down in your doodle-ridden notepad.

A few stray hairs slipped down into your face as you hunched over your notepad and it took all of Eddie's restraint to not reach over and brush them aside to tuck them behind your ear. There were times he thought you harbored the same feelings he'd hidden away, but he'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself when it came to people he was attracted to - especially when it came to you.

Eddie was painfully aware of the fact that if he made his feelings known to you and you didn't reciprocate, it would put a strain on his friendship with you, if not ruin it completely. Although Jeff had assured Eddie when he sought out his friend's advice that he was "pretty sure" you liked him back, he was simply too much of a coward to put himself in such a vulnerable position.

It wasn't until you said his name for a third time that Eddie was pulled out from his own messy head and back into his messy bedroom.

"Huh?" He willed the heat rising to his cheeks to kindly fuck off, embarrassed that you'd caught him staring at you.

The corners of your lips quirked upwards as you spied that rosy pink hue blooming across Eddie's cheeks and you automatically reached a hand up to tuck those stray hairs back behind your ear, your eyes flicking back down to your character sheet. You were pretty sure you'd caught Eddie checking you out and just the thought of it being a possibility had your heart thumping hard in your chest.

"Um...I finished rolling. You said I'd want my wisdom stat to be the highest for a druid, right?" You asked, meeting his gaze again.

“Uh, yeah that's right. Gimme a sec,” Eddie chuckled nervously and was quick to grab the Player's Handbook, very much eager to move on from the awkwardness of being caught. He was relieved you didn't seem too weirded-out by it. If anything, if his eyes didn't deceive him, you seemed almost…into it?

He chalked it up to wishful thinking on his part, though Jeff's words did start to ring a little more true than they had done before.

The two of you got to work on building your character - stats, skills, equipment, gold and spells. You were pretty satisfied with everything, save for maybe your Armour Class which left something to be desired.

“Aaand I think all that's left to do is your hit points. You'll want-” Eddie flicked back a page or two in the Handbook. “-Ah, eight plus your Constitution modifier, then for every level above first you can either take a five plus your con, or gamble and roll a D8 for something higher.” His warm, brown gaze rose from the book to meet your own and he cocked his head to the side, some of his unruly dark curls falling in front of his shoulders. “What d’ya wanna do?”

You pondered for a moment before grinning. “Well obviously I've gotta gamble.”

A bright smile broke out on Eddie's face, those familiar little crow’s feet forming at the corners of his big round eyes. If it could, your heart would've leapt out from your chest and right into his hands.

“That's the spirit!” He clapped his hands together and the thick silver of his rings clinked against one another. “But be warned, I won't allow any re-rolls this time so you'll have to take whatever you get.”

You were pretty sure that a D8 was the small, diamond-shaped one. As you reached out to grab the dice, Eddie did just the same. Your hands brushed against one another, sending tingles right up from where your skin touched his, through your body right to the tips of your toes. You heard Eddie's breath hitch and your heart skipped a beat at the tiny little sound.

For a moment it seemed like neither you nor Eddie could - or wanted to - move, and the longer you sat there, frozen, the more you felt your face get hotter and hotter.

Before you could say or do anything, Eddie took your hand and flipped it over so your palm faced upwards, plucked the D8 from its place amongst the plethora of dice and placed it into your hand. When you managed to finally tear your eyes away from your hand in his to look up at him, Eddie's own gaze was already fixated on your face, a small smile on his pink lips and a red hue dusting his pale cheeks.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards as you began to pull your hand away, but Eddie caught it before it could go too far.

“H-Hey, uh…” He stuttered, gathering up his courage. “...I know you only came over here to make your character but, uh, did you wanna carry on hanging out afterwards?” His hand was slightly sweaty, but you didn't mind it. “We could have a smoke, watch a movie and order pizza or something - y'know, if you want to?” His voice cracked halfway through asking. Eddie wasn't a religious guy, but if you rejected his offer he truly would start praying for his shitty mattress to swallow him whole, especially after a his voice cracked like he was fucking 16 again.

It felt like a mini explosion of butterflies had gone off in your tummy. “Really?”

You looked absolutely star struck; raised brows, glittering eyes, pink cheeks and lips slightly parted. The only other time Eddie had seen you with that look on your face was the first time you'd seen him shredding on his guitar and he knew there and then that he was absolutely fucked. Seeing it again now while you were sat just a mere few feet away had him wanting to pull you in by the hand he still held and kiss you.

“Y-Yeah! I mean, my uncle’s working the night shift tonight so we'd be able to chill out without him hanging around. But no pressure or anything, y'know.” He let go of your hand to scratch the back of his head, chuckling nervously.

The word date hung heavy and unspoken in the air between you.

You closed your fist around the D8 sat in your palm and pulled your hand back towards you as you nodded, smiling brightly at Eddie while your heart hammered in your chest with excitement. “No, that sounds really nice. I'm down for that.”

The giddiest grin broke out on Eddie's face and you were sure if eyes could sparkle, Eddie's would've been the source of a golden-brown disco ball effect as the orange light of the sunset shone through the open blinds over his window.

“Cool! Cool cool cool cool.” Was all Eddie could think to say as the adrenaline rush filtered its way through his body. He fiddled with the thick silver ring on his index finger, unable to keep that grin off his face. “So we'll finish this up and I'll roll us a couple of joints then?”

You returned Eddie's grin. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #c: eddie munson. #w: drabble. #hello sorry this took so long :') #i am VERY rusty when it comes to writing but i feel like this is something! #reblogs and comments are v much appreciated! #i really wanna get better at this so please lmk what you think :)

[salome-c]

Joseph Quinn truly gave us the best Eddie Munson. (x x)

#not me coming back doing gifs because of this man #what can i say #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things edit #stranger things 4 edit #netflix #netflix show #st4 #st4 eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #salome-c gifset #salome c gifset

[riality-check]

Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 is alive!!)

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #dilf steve harrington #corroded coffin #dilf and concert #d&c au

[kiwicider]

strawberries - eddie munson

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

synopsis: eddie being your best friend meant you could trust him with anything, even your body.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: minors dni ! swearing, some friendly teasing, pet names, kissing, loss of virginity, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex, bulge kink if you squint.

Eddie laid on his stomach while you sat cross legged beside him, head propped up on his palm as he watched you bite into strawberries drizzled with honey. You fed him the leftover halves, ranting about a professor canceling class, calling the community college a waste of your time. 

“And the other professors? They can’t be that bad.”

“They’re alright,” you mumbled. “The people are okay too, for the most part, but I wish you were there.” You picked up a strawberry and brought it to his lips, teeth grazing against your skin as he took it.

The honey stuck to his lips as he chewed the fruit up. “I promise you’re okay without me,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, of course I am,” you reassured him. “I'd just like it more.”

A warm breeze ran through your room as you finished off the last strawberry from the bowl between your legs, the sound of you sucking your thumb clean of the thick honey catching his attention. Clear gloss covered your lips, a ring of it gleaming on your skin as you drew it away from your mouth. He stared shamelessly, distracted by the innocent act. 

You never truly realized the effect you had on him, and Eddie would be lying if he said he’d never thought about what it’d be like to kiss you sometimes.

“What’re you staring at, Munson?”

Dark coils of hair messily covered his temples, the strands moving as he shook his head. “Nothing,” he responded nonchalantly, looking down at his nails as he spoke. “Have you… met anyone interesting?” 

“Is that your way of asking if I’ve met any guys?” You picked up the bowl and moved it to the nightstand, quirking a brow at him. 

“It’s just that you haven't mentioned anyone.” Eddie ran his thumb across his bottom lip, collecting the thin layer of honey and licking it off. “Just curious.”

You watched him closely, eyes flitting from his mouth back up to his brown eyes. “Well, huge shocker, they’re not as interesting as I’d hoped they’d be.” 

He watched as you leaned your head against the headboard, a small huff of air leaving your lips as you stared up at the ceiling. Another breeze blew through the window, rustling the curtains and hem of your pajama shorts.

Eddie pushed himself to sit up, knee knocking into yours as his hand brushed against your thigh. “Alright, talk to me. What’s up?” 

You hesitated for a moment before looking at him. “Can I tell you something? And don’t laugh, Eds.”

“C’mon, when have I ever laughed at you?” You shot him a deadpanned look and he raised his hands up in defense. “Okay, fine. But when have I ever laughed at something serious, hm?” 

“It’s not even serious, it’s actually kinda dumb.” you replied matter-of-factly. 

“It’s not dumb if you feel like bringing it up,” Eddie quipped. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. Much to your distaste, Eddie always seemed to have an answer to everything you said. He waited for a response patiently, his dull nails skimming against your thigh while he traced circles onto it. Light from outside filtered into the room, illuminating Eddie’s skin as his gaze raked over your face. 

“I feel like I’m really behind everyone else,” you admitted softly, drumming your fingers against the top of his hand. 

“Like… in school? C’mon babe, can’t get any more behind than me.” 

You groaned, the back of your head hitting the headboard loudly as an obnoxious laugh left his lips. “This isn’t a joke!” 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “Continue, and no interruptions this time.” 

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, pulling at the skin lightly. “Y’know how they practically forced abstinence down our throats in sex ed? I don’t even have to try, Eddie.”

“So you’re… upset you haven’t fucked anyone?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised in surprise, a look of mild disbelief washing over his face

“Well—shit, don’t say it like that.” 

“Why?” 

“Because! It makes me sound so…”

He tilted his head to the side, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Desperate?”

Eddie watched as you looked down at your lap, fingers pulling at the ruffled hem of your bottoms. He hooked his finger beneath your chin, doe eyes studying you carefully as he lifted your head. 

“You don’t have to do anything, you know that, right? Especially with some Hawkins asshole.” 

You nodded solemnly, the comforting smile Eddie gave you causing your lips to curve up. 

“Like, I don’t know. I kinda regret losing it junior year in the back of my van,” he admitted. “She moved away a couple weeks later too.” 

“Jeez, how did you manage to scare her away that fast?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, she thought it was exceptional,” he exclaimed, slapping your shoulder lightly. “Honestly though, I don’t mean to sound like Mrs. Click, but wait for someone that’s… y’know, good to you.” 

After a few moments of silence, you started laughing softly. “Why the hell did they have a history teacher talking to us about sex and abstinence anyways? Doesn’t she have like, four kids?” 

“Not really the poster woman for safe sex, but hey, she had her fun.” He shrugged and flashed his teeth as a laugh bubbled up in his throat. 

You shook your head with a smile and took his hand between yours, sliding his silver rings off and pushing them back down his thick fingers to pass the time. Your eyes trailed up his wrist and forearm, the sleeves of the black t-shirt he wore stopping just above the crook of his elbow. 

Eddie watched as you ran your finger up his arm slowly, your painted nail tracing the shapes of the bats inked on his skin. “Anything else you wanna say?”  

“Hm? Why?” 

“You trace my tattoos whenever you think about something,” he responded, “unless you just want an excuse to touch me today.”

You looked up to see him wiggling his eyebrows, your immediate response being to roll your eyes. “You’re so annoying, you know that?” 

“You tell me that all the time, sweetheart.” He gave you a boyish grin and cocked his head to the side. “Now c’mon, say what’s on your mind.”

The bed creaked softly as you sat up straight, hands moving away from Eddie and onto your lap. Silence filled the air between you, the sound of your heart pounding the only thing you heard in those quiet moments. 

“Okay, stop me if this sounds dumb—”

“Nothing you say is dumb.” 

“Jesus, let me finish first, yeah?” You laughed nervously, picking at the thin layer of olive polish on your nails. “Well I’ve thought about it before, y’know, the right person stuff you were talking about earlier.”

He nodded and brought his thumb up to lightly chew on his nail, something he only did out of nerves.

“You, well… you’re the right person.” 

Eddie could feel the blood rush to his face as he stared at you silently, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his stomach at your confession. He half expected for you to burst out in laughter, teasing him and his cherry-red cheeks, but the only thing he saw was your shoulders slumping forward and an embarrassed look washing over your face.

Your knees dug into the mattress as you tried to get up, nearly falling off the bed from the rush of your movements. “Actually, just forget it, Eds.” 

“Hey, no, listen to me.” He reached forward and pulled you back down quickly, your hands landing on his lap roughly to steady yourself. “It’s not dumb, alright? I just—you can’t rush into this.”

“I’m not rushing, you’d be surprised about how much I’ve thought about this,” you admitted sheepishly. “I don’t wanna do it with a Hawkins asshole, Eddie. I wanna do it with my best friend.” 

He took his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes searching your face for even a glimpse of uncertainty. “T-This is serious stuff, okay? I need you to be sure.”

You had never been capable of making Eddie Munson stutter, but there was a first time for everything. 

His hands were warm and just a little clammy when you took them into yours and squeezed them reassuringly. “I’m positive, Eds.”

There was an almost immediate change in his demeanor once you gave him the green light; he pulled his hands from yours and moved them to your hips, scooting back to make room for you to lie down. Eddie rubbed circles into the exposed skin near your stomach, thumb flicking between the waistband of your cotton shorts and the hem of your shirt. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, curls framing his face as he lowered himself closer to you. 

You nodded wordlessly, heart beating out of your chest once his face was inches from yours. The woody fragrance of his cologne mixed in with the apple-scented shampoo he used made you close your eyes as it enveloped you, the smell wholly comforting and all you needed to calm your nerves. 

Ringlets of his hair brushed against your cheeks as he kissed you softly, traces of the strawberries and honey you shared still around when your lips parted to taste him. The kiss was timid and smooth, Eddie’s hands ghosting around your hips and the back of your thighs as he parted your legs further. His jean-clad thigh brushed against your center, the sensation unfamiliar but enough to make you bring your hips up in search of friction.

Warmth spread from your stomach up to your chest when the kiss grew feverish, Eddie’s tongue poking at your lips while his fingers squeezed the soft flesh of your waist. It drew a faint moan from you, the noise muffled by his mouth. 

Your hands rested on his shoulders and bunched the t-shirt he wore beneath your palms as he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips.  Warmth rushed to your cheeks and you couldn’t help the laugh that rose in your throat, a dopey smile pulling at Eddie’s lips as he stared down at you.

“Not nervous anymore?”

You shook your head and spoke quietly. “Only a little bit.”

Eddie nodded and sat back on his legs, hands moving up and down your sides before resting atop the waistband of your bottoms. “Can I take these off of you?” He narrowed his eyes when you only responded with a nod. “Use your words, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

“Yeah, sorry, you can take them off.”

He worked swiftly in sliding the cotton shorts down your hips, the bands of his rings icy against your skin. You watched his every move, not missing the way his fingers lingered on your skin as he dragged the bottoms down your thighs and over the curve of your knees until you kicked them off over the edge of the bed. 

Eddie tried to bite back his smile as he looked from your underwear up to your face. “Strawberries?”

“They’re my favorite fruit!” You pushed your foot against his chest softly, rolling your eyes at the dulcet laugh that left his lips while he positioned himself onto his stomach.

He lifted the hem of your t-shirt to your chest, fingers running over your stomach.  “I think they’re mine too.”

Your complaints got lost as he pressed his lips against your flushed skin. Sliding his fingers beneath the band of your underwear, he lowered them slowly and left open mouthed kisses along your lower abdomen. You lifted your hips and helped Eddie take them off, the garment hanging off your foot as you brought your knees up to either side of his head. 

“Still okay?”

You felt yourself begin to nod before you caught yourself. “I’m good.”

A shaky sigh left your lips when he lowered himself further, the feeling of his breath hot against your center causing a shudder to run through your body. His hands found purchase on the back of your thighs, fingertips dimpling your skin and pulling them further apart until the subtle stretch between your legs made your head spin. You could see the way he stared at you like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip. 

He kept one hand on your thigh and brought the other to swipe up your folds, thumb spreading you open as he flattened his tongue against you. A broken whine escaped your mouth at the contact, eyes squeezing shut when his lip ghosted over your clit and his tongue licked a stripe along your glistening slit. 

The air felt warm as your hands came down to his scalp, fingers wrapping around the dark tendrils and tightening each time he lapped at your juices. His groans vibrated against your core, the sensation shooting up your body. The feeling was foreign, but you were positive you never wanted him to stop.

“Doin’ so good for me,” he murmured, pulling away to look up at you with low eyes. His lips were swollen and tinted a cherry-red hue, glossy with your arousal that went down to his chin. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Amazing,” you said breathily, raising your hand to give him a thumbs up. “Can you, y’know…”

“Words, babe. Use ‘em.” Eddie’s voice came out muffled, busying himself with leaving kisses on the inside of your left thigh. 

“Fuck me, Eds. Please.”

He pressed one last kiss to your skin and planted his hands on the bed, raising himself up to get off the bed. You squeezed your legs together, desperate for some sort of friction as he pulled you towards him, knees dangling off the edge of the bed.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he mumbled. “Gorgeous.” 

“Trying to talk your way into my pants?” 

He winked at you, fingers coming up to unbutton his jeans. “You’re not even wearing any panties, so I think I’m alright.” 

You lightly pushed him with your foot as he lowered the silver zipper, shimmying his jeans all the way off until the black briefs he wore were on display. He was clueless to the way you ogled his bulge, eyes wide and attentive to the way it strained against the cotton. 

The lust-filled moment was interrupted when he almost lost his balance trying to yank the briefs down quickly, a string of curses slipping his mouth as he avoided falling into your vanity. You let out loud laugh involuntarily, hand coming up to cover up the sound. 

“I’m happy to know you’re not nervous anymore, even if it’s at my expense.” He slapped your leg playfully, grinning at your relaxed state. 

Eddie bent down and slipped his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, flipping it open to pull a gold-foiled condom out. 

“Do you always have that?” you inquired. 

He shrugged. “A man’s gotta be prepared.” 

You watched with bated breath as he tore it open and rolled it onto his length, lip pulled between your teeth when his eyes flitted over to your body. He reached over to bring you closer to him, moving your ankles to the sides of his bare thighs. 

“Ready?” Eddie smiled when you nodded, moving forward until his tip pressed against your entrance. “I’ll go slow, I promise.” 

He eased himself into you, one hand on your hip to rub comforting circles onto your skin as you let out a quiet gasp. Despite him trying to be gentle, tears still pricked at the corners of your eyes once he bottomed out. 

You reached out to grab onto the hem of his t-shirt, fingers curling around the cotton material. “You can move, Eds.” 

Eddie’s thrusts started off slowly, curses leaving his lips at the feeling of you clenching around him. His movements quickly gained precision after a few moments, the rhythmic strokes causing a ragged moan to crawl up your throat. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed out. 

“Give me more, please,” you begged, nails scratching against his taut abdomen. 

He complied, hitting all the right places as his pace quickened, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You couldn’t even think as your back arched up, mind hazy and body moving in sync with the bed beneath you. Eddie’s hand came down to your bare stomach, a cocky grin spreading on his lips when he felt himself bulging beneath your skin.

“I can feel myself in you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “You’re doin’ so good for me.” 

You bit down on your lip harshly to stop a loud whine from coming out as his thrusts became harder, his words ringing through your ears and setting a fire alight beneath your skin. It pushed outwards from your middle, his rings cool against your chest as he moved his hand up to your top to bunch it around your collar. He palmed your breasts, running his thumb across your pebbled nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

It felt like the bed was going to swallow you whole as he continued pounding into you, loud cries leaving your lips  while Eddie threw his head back in pleasure. You pressed your ankles into his legs, hands dropping to grip your thighs. 

“I want you to touch yourself, yeah? Ever done that before?” he asked, the lewd request laced with care. 

You nodded, head going fuzzy as you brought your finger to circle your clit. It felt slick, the added stimulation drawing a choked out moan from you, your stomach quickly growing taut with an intense pressure flooding your system. Eddie brought his hand down to your thigh, holding it tight enough to bruise. You came as he squeezed your flesh, thighs seizing up around him as a white-hot bliss washed over you. 

Eddie’s grip on you loosened, his strokes growing more erratic until he finally came with a groan, hands planted near your ankles as he finished. Soft pants left his pink lips, skin glistening under the light of your bedroom. A quick moment of silence passed through the two of you, taking a few seconds to exchange sheepish smiles and relax your limbs. 

A tingling feeling ran through your body and you groaned softly in relief when he pulled out, his hands gently massaging your hips. Eddie bent over, pulling you to lie further up on the bed. 

He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek and stood back. “Let me go uh, take this off,” he said with a laugh, pointing at the condom, “and I’ll be back to take care of you.” 

You stared at him quizzically. “And do what?” 

“Clean you up, talk, get you some clothes,” he replied. “Maybe give you some kisses?” 

“Sounds like the life,” you groaned, stretching your arms above your head. “I’ll be waiting, Mr. Munson.” 

Tucking your arms beneath your head, you laughed softly as he picked up his briefs and made his way to the bathroom quickly. You stared up at the ceiling while listening to the water run and Eddie move things around, head picking up slightly when he came back a few moments later with a wet hand towel in tow. 

You watched silently as he sat in front of you, spreading your legs to wipe at your thighs and center softly. The towel was cool, soothing your inflamed skin. His touches were feather-like as he continued cleaning you up, almost as if he were scared of grabbing you too roughly. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, dropping the towel to the wooden floor and reaching over to open one of your drawers. 

“Good, Eds,” you reassured him. “Thank you.” 

He shrugged, a smile spreading his lips as he fished out a pair of underwear for you. “Strawberries? Again?” 

“There was a sale going on!” you protested, laughing while he slid them through your feet and up your legs. Lifting your hips up to assist him, he let the waistband snap softly against your skin. 

“Can’t believe I like you,” he groaned, crawling over to lay down next to you. 

He brought the blanket over the two of you, your bare legs entangling together when you moved closer. 

“Well,” you drawled, “you kinda have to.” 

“Mm, I guess so. There’s a lot to like,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your nose, “strawberry printed panties and all.”

© 2022 KIWICIDER - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

a/n: if you find any errors, let me know !! i proofread this like at 3 am LMFAO

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things season 4 #st4 #c: munson

[psychicskulldamage]

I saw @inthelonelylightofmorning's request in the harringrove tag and had to do it 😆💖

#robin is the one taking the picture c: #harringrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanart #harringrove fanart #my art

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Eight

A03

We left off: Eddie has an injured leg, Gareth is concussed, there’s a now injured manticore in Hawkins and possibly a moving gate in the walls of the lab, which is storing mysterious, glowing green goo. Prior to all that, Steve was having a breakdown about leaving Hawkins brought on by his parents returning home.

Gareth has noticed Steve’s “crush” on Eddie, *all* of Hellfire is painfully aware of Eddie’s crush on Steve, and Hopper just showed up to the Byers in Scooby Doo pajamas.

Cue the music.

One minute Hopper was shaking a finger at the pile of children on the couch, spittle flying from his mouth as he demanded everyone both talk and shut up--

(“They can’t do both, Jim.”

“I don’t care Joyce, I--”

“Well I care, and you’re in my house, so I suggest you shut up.”

“Fine, but--”

“Jim!”

“I was shutting up!”)

--and the next Steve had wrapped Gareth’s own hands around a warm mug, quietly leaning into his ear to ask if he was okay.

Gareth nodded jerkily, blinking back to the present, fighting off the panic attack that had dogged him all night.

“Yup. I’m great--good! I’m totally good.”

Steve snorted (a gross but common Steve sound) but otherwise left Gareth with a squeeze of his shoulder, before taking the other mug he had over to Eddie.

Who, Gareth realized, was staring at Hopper with the resigned air of a man glaring down his own executioner.

“What I don’t understand,” Lucas was saying as Steve tried to get Eddie to take a mug, “is what the manticore’s guarding.”

“You didn’t hear the green goo story?” Dustin said conversationally, like this was a Tuesday and not the middle of the night after a monster attack, head craning around to look at his friend.

Gareth had to give it to the kid, he had balls of fucking iron to ignore the look Hopper was shooting his way.

“Green goo?” Hopper butted in, needing an answer but clearly not eager to hear it

(Behind Gareth, Steve had resorted to physically taking Eddie’s hands, and wrapping them around the mug. He kept them there, fingers over Eddie’s as he leaned in, whispering something into the older teen’s ear, clearly trying to get his attention off Hopper.

It didn’t seem to be working until Steve said--or did--something, and then suddenly Eddie was taking in a shuddering, wobbly breath, eyes darting to look up into Steve’s. He took the mug much the same way Gareth had, though he blanked his face out a hell of a lot faster.)

“Glowing green goo. It’s--wait, where’d that guy go, he explained it really well.” Dustin leaned his entire body out from the couch, looking towards the wall of Hellfire members. “Hey, you! Stuck Stewart!”

Grant and Jeff slid away from Stewart immediately.

Who pointedly dumbly towards himself, squawking out a startled, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Dustin said, like this was a fucking gameshow. “Tell Hop what you told me.”

As Hopper turned to face them with a startled expression, it became evident that he was just now realizing the teenagers in the kitchen weren't the ones he had expected to encounter.

His gaze swept over them in a clinical assessment, as if memorizing their faces so he could write them up later. Each of them let out a sigh of relief when he moved onto the next person, before his eyes landed on Eddie--and stayed.

“Munson?” He hissed, causing half of Hellfire to flinch.

To Eddie’s credit, he didn't react. Just reclined in the chair like he owned it, and raised the mug of chocolate Steve had just let go of.

“Nice jammies, Hop.” He said in lue of a greeting.

“Ignore him.” Dustin demanded, in a tone that had Jeff and Grant both side eyeing him. “The glowing goo is the important thing here.”

He gestured with his hand in a 'get on with it' motion, shooting an impatient look at Stewart.

Who audibly swallowed.

“So there uh, there was a rumor…” Stewart started, the story coming out in jerky, hesitant waves.

He kept looking at Hopper as if the man would interrupt him at any minute, and Gareth couldn’t tell if he was hoping to be cut off or happy to be allowed to talk.

He got it all out though--the rumors about the goo, the weird trucks and people loitering around town.

How a friend (omitting, Gareth noted with muted amusement, that Mikey was both an adult and the Hideout’s bartender) put it all together, spun it up into some crazy conspiracy theory and fed it to half the town’s best gossips.

The entire time Stewart spoke, Hopper was staring Eddie down.

Hellfire didn’t miss it.

Joyce didn’t either, and even Jonathan looked a bit fidgety.

(The kids looked perfectly fine, but then, they didn’t seem to realize Hopper wasn’t exactly focused on the whole goo thing.)

Stewart’s story ended, tailing off awkwardly when it became clear he had nothing else to add, and that everyone was waiting for Hopper to say something.

“Jim…” Joyce started, tone low in warning, which seemed to kickstart the chief back to life.

“Right. So we have one group of dumbass teenagers who went into the lab on a dare,” Hopper drawled, in that “don’t you bullshit me” tone cops just loved to use, “a second group of dumbass children who went in because they apparently, haven’t learned their lesson about meddling in government affairs, and Munson here—-”

Hopper flicked a hand at Eddie.

“—-was involved because his friends called him for help and not because the lab is the perfect spot to get high with a large number of people. Do I have that right?”

They all exchanged a nervous look with one another, but no one said a word.

Hellfire as a whole was used to getting their shit rocked by teachers, shop owners, and occasionally, the cops (usually an idiot who wanted to throw their weight around by busting up band practice or searching a car for drugs).

Pissing off the Chief of police though? That was an activity Eddie typically did solo.

And boy was Hopper pissed off, fury building waves as he leaned in like a predator opening its mouth right before it ate its prey.

“This shit? The Upside Down, monster shit? Isn’t something I screw around with. Especially not when my daughter’s involved. So we’re going to try this again, and this time, I want to hear the truth.”

He held up a hand to halt the explosion of protests from the kids section without bothering to even look in their direction.

“From Munson.” He finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie answered by taking a noisy slurp from his mug.

Gareth winced, but this sort of back and forth was par the course for a Munson-Hopper encounter, and he knew better than to get in the middle of it.

Steve, apparently, did not.

“Stewart just told you the truth.” He said flatly, giving Hopper a look that was just as stubborn as the chief’s own.

Who very much did not appreciate it.

“Harrington--”

“You said it yourself.” Steve interrupted, holding firm against the chief’s scowl. “The Upside Down isn’t something we screw around with.”

“Tell him, Steve!” Dustin crowed from the couch.

“Shut it.” Steve and Hopper responded in unison, and then did a remarkable job of pretending they hadn’t said a word.

(Gareth had the worst vision of Steve in an alternate life as a police officer. A deputy maybe, with shaved hair, constantly chewing on tobacco and fucking up poor people’s lives. He’d probably have an obnoxious nickname. Like Gator or some shit.

Thank God Hellfire had gotten there first.)

“I was there when they called Eddie.” Steve continued, before Hopper could growl something out. “If we were all doing drugs, we’d still be high, and Eddie wouldn’t have teeth marks in his thigh.”

There was yet another pause, in which Gareth was fairly sure the tension was going to give him a heart attack.

Within it, Hopper did a double take, noting Eddie’s injury for the first time--and how he only had one pant leg, the other replaced by a stark white bandage and pale skin.

“Fine.” He grit out, teeth clenched so tight Gareth thought they might shatter against each other. “Is there anything else I should know about the ‘goo story’ then?”

“You missed the part where El wouldn’t let us call you, because she felt you wouldn’t listen to her.” Mike snarked from El’s right.

“Wonder why.” Max added darkly, from her own spot on El’s left. “Don’t you have a walkie? Why didn’t you answer the code red?”

Apparently, they had decided Steve had won this entire exchange, and it was safe to dogpile on their own displeasure. Gareth was absolutely astounded that the glare Hopper turned their direction didn’t melt them all on the spot.

(Likely, given how this all seemed to be a normal encounter for everyone involved, they were used to it.

Gareth was very much not.)

Hopper whipped his head around to Mike, anger still simmering, “And I’m sure you, Michael Wheeler, didn’t have any qualms about not calling me.”

“He did not want me to go either.” El said bluntly. “I told him you would not listen, and if either of you stopped me, people would die.”

She nodded then, towards Stewart, as if to indicate he was one such person.

For the second time that night, Stewart pointed at his own chest, eyes saucer wide.

“No one else,” El finished grimly, “will die.”

The chief dragged his hands through his hair and then down his face.

“Alright.” He forced out. “I get your point-- but! We’re talking about how you went about this later. Not now!” He added, before the kids could erupt. “Later!”

“So what are we going to do about the Manticore?” Mike spat the question more so than he said it, but Gareth was happy someone was bringing that part up.

Because monster problem or not--what the fuck were they going to do about it?

Since the Chief of Police was here, did that mean the entire police force knew there were monsters in Hawkins? Was there some kind of--monster hunting squad that went around at night?

The more he thought about it the more questions he had, and in turn, the more Gareth’s anxiety threatened to mutiny once again, which was not helped by the concussion he was positive he’d acquired.

Hopper scoffed, “We are not doing anything. We are going back to bed after I call your parents and tell them you’ve been out all night!”

Groans filled the room, the sound of children facing a future grounding, en mass.

“Then,” he continued loudly, “I’ll call Owens.”

“And if Owens doesn’t do anything?” Dustin challenged. “‘Cause he clearly didn’t clean up well last time. Are we just going to let a manticore run around? What if more come through? What if--”

“Just because none of you trust me doesn’t mean I don’t do my job,” Hopper interrupted, “which includes knowing what to do if this shit came back. We adults did discuss that after last time, believe it or not.”

Gareth was old enough to school the doubt off his face, but the kids had no such qualms.

“What Hop means is that we need to have a little more faith in him.” Joyce soothed, and Gareth noticed that unlike a lot of adult men he’d been around, Hopper let her. “He’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“This just means we’re waiting until he falls in a hole again.” Mike stage whispered to Will, who coughed hard to hide his laugh.

“There aren’t any holes this time!” Hopper screeched, voice rising in pitch.

“Okay, okay, enough.” Joyce pacified, moving to stand in the middle of the room (notably,between the harpy children and Hopper). “What’s important is that everyone lived, we know there’s a thing in the lab, and that no one is going back for it until it’s dead. Agreed?”

She paused, and when no such agreements came, hardened her voice in a way that had every person under eighteen snapping to attention. “Agreed!?”

“Yes.” Chorused the children (and at least three members of Hellfire.)

“Good.” Joyce nodded so hard her hair bounced. Putting her hands on her hips, she added; “Now we start the process of getting all of you home.”

“Someone get me the phone, we’re starting with you Wheeler.” Hopper tacked on.

Mike just flung himself back into the couch with a dramatic eye roll and a not so subtle raise of his middle finger.

“As for the rest of you, get out.” Hopper said, weaving past Steve to get to the phone in the kitchen.

A second later, when it was clear no one had moved, he poked his head around the corner.

“Do I need to call all your parents too?” He demanded, as Hellfire dumbly stood there. “Get!”

Hellfire got.

xXx

Hopper grabbed Steve right before he’d left, muttering something about needing to talk to him and Jonathan.

Alone.

Eddie chose to hang back, propping himself on the van's hood, and Gareth, not wanting to go home, opted to keep him company

“Hopper’s not going to eat him.” He whispered, when two minutes dragged into seven and the fidgeting got to be too much for him.

“True, but he's catching hell because Hopper's not buying his story." Eddie retorted, voice equally hushed.

As if raising their voices might summon Hopper and his fiery temper right to them.

"It's nothing we haven't heard before," Gareth remarked, resisting the urge to suggest once more that Eddie get off his leg and go sit in the car.

“There weren't monsters before.” Eddie countered, mouth around a hangnail.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It might.” Eddie muttered darkly. “If Hopper makes it matter, it fucking might.”

“How the hell is Hopper going to make it matter?" Gareth mused aloud, though deep down, he already knew.

Eddie was Hellfire's guardian, both within and beyond the school walls. Being with him meant having a shield to hide behind, protection against the casual cruelty the people of Hawkins were so fond of.

Sure, there were mean kids, nasty teachers, and even the occasional unpleasant gas station attendant, but they weren't the real issue—not by a long shot.

It was the ones who looked at Eddie and truly believed some of the bullshit.

Hopper didn’t act like the church folk. The ones who sent their pastors and youth leaders out on the warpath, knocking on doors and setting up outside of businesses.

Those individuals had attempted to drive away Eddie's friends before, thinking they could "rescue them" in the process—Gareth himself had once endured a week of being stalked by some idiot he had stood up to in Eddie's defense.

The man had made it his mission, and Gareth, too young at the time to know better, had felt helpless as every adult he turned to dismissed the blatant stalking.

All because that "nice" youth leader claimed he just wanted to help.

The asshole had practically hunted Gareth down-- always making himself known, always accompanied by a friend or two. A couple of little comments in his pocket, ready and waiting, and a grin that didn’t match his eyes.

The words he said weren’t threats, but the tone he said them in was.

Eddie got it worst of all of them though, when the church crowd started.

Their attention wasn’t always on him, and truthfully they hadn’t really put any real energy into their own bullshit for a few years now--but they always came back to him.

Like he was an old and favored chew toy, and if they just tried hard enough, they’d crack him in two.

Which meant this wasn’t about what Hopper said.

It’s what he could do.

Thankfully Steve appeared before Eddie could spiral further, looking surprised to see them still waiting.

“Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair as he came down the stairs. “You guys didn’t have to stay.”

Eddie shot him a flat look.

"And leave you alone with Hopper?"

"I wasn't exactly alone, but thanks."

Steve's smile was slight, tinged with relief, and Eddie fell right into him, leaning into Steve's space (and making a show of his limp as he did).

“We were going to ask if you’re coming back with us anyway. Figure you might not want to go back to your place after tonight.” He said, as if he and Gareth had discussed any such thing.

You waited outside just to tell me that?" Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he gently pushed Eddie back. "Ed, you should be sitting in your car, off that leg."

(Not that Steve wanted Eddie to go far, Gareth noted with his own amusement, as Steve stepped to follow.)

"I tried telling him that, but he wouldn't listen!" He tattled to Steve, simply because he could.

He got a middle finger behind Eddie’s back in retaliation.

“I figured it’d piss Hopper right off if I offered you a place to crash right after he warned you away from me.” Eddie said, ignoring the both of them.

“He didn’t warn me away.” Steve said, beginning the process of herding the older teen into his van.

Eddie let out a snort. "Seriously? That wasn't a full-blown 'rethink your life choices, hanging out with trash like him' speech?”

“You’re not trash.”

Eddie snorted again, hasher this time before glancing away.

He was entirely unprepared for Steve to reach out, catching him by the arm much the same way Hopper had caught him.

“Eddie.” Steve said, abruptly serious. “You’re not trash.”

He said it like he meant it, voice low, eyes drilling into Eddie’s.

Gareth couldn't tear his own eyes away, even though that stare wasn't even intended for him.

“No one here is trash,” Steve declared firmly. “Hopper was just asking if Jonathan and I could babysit El for a couple of nights while he’s working. But even if he had tried to tell me I couldn't hang out with you, I would have told him to shove it. Like you said earlier today—we don’t abandon our friends, and we don’t leave them to deal with stuff alone.”

Gareth knew his best friend like the back of his hand and that level of honesty?

It was too much for Eddie, and normally, he’d run.

Was in fact, a little more than infamous for bolting when confronted about his own insecurities.

Maybe it was because Eddie's leg was in no shape for him to run, or maybe it was the reassuring grip of Steve's hand on his arm. It could even have been the intensity in Steve's gaze, as if he could convince Eddie of anything just by staring at him--but Eddie didn’t move.

He didn't even avert his gaze, although Gareth half expected him to.

“If you say so.” He tried to sing-song the words but they fell flat. “Let’s go, the Munson couch awaits us.”

Steve didn’t say anything about how Eddie pulled himself away, backing out of range.

He watched him though.

Even after Eddie had turned around, waving a hand at Gareth to get into the drivers seat.

Steve kept watching until Gareth nudged him out of it, murmuring a quiet “Come on, dude” to get him going too.

Saw the little frown line burrow its way into Steve’s forehead, like he’d figured out part of a puzzle that had long evaded him, and didn’t like the answer he’d come too.

(Gareth himself didn’t have time for any such revelations, given he faced the monstrous task of driving Eddie’s van.

His learners permit quaked in his wallet at the mere thought, but somehow, they made it back in one piece anyway.)

xXx

Steve had reassured them that feeling restless was normal after….

Well.

After.

(There wasn’t a word strong enough to capture the intensity of the last few hours.

Gareth eventually stopped trying, accepting it as a blur of horror, anxiety, and impending dread. It felt like a nightmare that others remembered vividly but faded for him, like a movie becoming less real once you left the theater.)

Their conversation centered around going through the last few years, Steve filling in holes that made life make a hell of a lot more sense compared to all the bullshit the government had come up with.

None of it sounded real, and several pieces had Eddie and Gareth both gawking, but after the lab?

Not a part of it could be easily discounted.

Gareth couldn’t pinpoint when he finally succumbed to sleep.

Hadn’t intended too, and knew immediately upon clawing back to reality that his back was in a world of hurt from the way he’d curled into Wayne’s ancient armchair.

It was still dark outside, the lights warm on the inside of the trailer, and he figured he couldn’t have been out for long.

The blurry red 5:05 from his watch confirmed his suspicions, and Gareth got two seconds to wonder if this is his life now--catching whatever sleep he can in weird little bursts-- before harsh whispering picked up to his left.

The Munson’s living room was small. Small enough for Eddie to know better about how the sound carries, even if he was whisper-fighting.

Or at least, whisper-arguing, anyway.

“I just wish you’d see yourself the way everyone else sees you.” Steve was saying, sounding both bitchy and confused. Like he couldn’t quite believe he was having such a stupid conversation, but was going to point out the obvious anyway.

Eddie wasn’t doing much better, his words as sharp as the knife he’d used to stab the manticore.

“What, as the town freak? The local satanist? The ugly queer who's out to steal the children?”

Gareth managed to sneak a peak in time to see Eddie’s face twisted in disgust.

“Not those assholes--the ones that know you. Everyone that matters.” Steve countered, easily and immediately. “The Hellfire Club, Wayne, Dustin.”

There was a pause, but he could have sworn he heard Steve follow up with a quiet but hopeful, “Me.”

Gareth twisted ever so slightly, giving himself an eyeful of the room.

Both his friends sat on the couch facing each other. They were close, like they’d been sharing snacks or body heat before things had gone south, Eddie’s hands nearly missing smacking into Steve’s face as he gestured.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Steve continued doggedly.

Eddie’s hands froze in air, before he could make whatever gesture he’d intended.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” Steve repeated, that painful sincerity Gareth would have never guessed him capable of on full display. “For the part I played in calling you all that shit. You’re none of those things, Eddie. You’re the opposite of all of it.”

The hands dropped into Eddie’s lap, like twin birds shot out of the sky.

“I am, though.” He muttered.

Steve’s frown deepened, his reassurance quick. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, Steve. I am.”

“Okay, fine.” Angry, Steve leaned forward into Eddie’s space.

Backed into the side of the couch and wall as he was, it trapped Eddie quite nicely.

“I know the parents down at the church don’t know the difference between D&D and actual demons, but I do. So unless you suddenly learned how to be quiet about fucking ritual sacrifice of all things, then I refuse to buy that you’re a literal Satanist and not just engaging in the drama.”

Gareth saw the moment Eddie realized he was pinned, that he wasn’t getting out of his conversation without shoving Steve back.

Knew this was building into a blow up before Eddie’s mouth even opened.

“I’m not a Satanist, but I definitely am queer.” He shot back, eyes hard. “So you can shove whatever grand ideas you’re having about my character back up your ass.”

Gareth hadn’t moved much, years of living with his siblings making it possible to watch what’s happening without alerting anyone in the room that he was awake, but he almost ruined it with how quickly he sucked in his own breath.

Steve was a good guy.

Had been a good guy to them, but there have been plenty of other “good guys” Gareth knew who suddenly weren’t so great the second Eddie’s sexuality came up.

It’s why Gareth himself hadn’t often admitted to his own muddled sexuality, too afraid of getting the same bullshit aimed his way.

Why would anyone want to pursue men, after watching more than a few realize they liked Eddie and promptly lose their shit so hard they became a danger to any man who so much as looked at them the wrong way?

It was terrifying--and so was the realization that Gareth can’t kick Steve’s ass. 

He doesn’t want to even try, but gets himself ready for emotional upheaval anyway--and whatever may come after.

Even if they’re all dead on their feet from fighting a literal monster.

‘Excellent fucking timing Eds.’ He thought sourly, despite the guilt of thinking it. It’s not Eddie’s fault--and Steve’s reaction, whatever it may be, isn’t either.

'God does it suck to be gay in a rural ass, small town.'

Thankfully, Steve doesn’t pull away.

Doesn’t act like Eddie’s got a contagious disease like some of the basketball team does, or like it’s his God given duty to either rid the earth of him now that Eddie’s finally admitted to what half the town has accused him of being, or have some violent crisis over his own clearly repressed gay crush. 

Is still very much in Eddie’s space, even if he’s being awfully quiet--for long enough that Gareth can see Eddie start to shut down.

“Okay.” Steve said finally, clearly knowing he needs to say something but seemingly struggling to figure out what, “But you’re not evil, and you’re definitely not stealing children, so you’re beating out the US government.”

“Oh boy, I beat out the government that’s kidnapping and torturing people! Such a high bar.”

Steve winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? What did you mean then?” Eddie challenged. “We both know you’re not the kind to want to associate with the queers.”

“I didn't, I--” Steve took a breath, fumbling and knowing it. “I know I've been an asshole in the past, and I also know I was wrong."

He stared hard at Eddie. "I don’t care if you’re gay. That doesn’t, that shouldn’t--matter.”

Eddie met his gaze. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Between them sat all the times Steve, or a former friend of his, decided a random victim was queer. The knowing smirks and taunts that followed after they spewed out various slurs.

How some of the rumors they started stuck around. 

Steve had never really engaged with a lot of the bullying people often attributed to him as King of the Jockstraps, but he wasn't an innocent bystander either, and Gareth couldn't fault Eddie for challenging that change of heart. 

Even now, after Steve had long vacated his throne. 

“Well that sucks for you then, doesn’t it?” Steve snapped. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Munson. You can mack on some dude all you like, and I’m still going to be there to remind you you’re not evil for doing it. Or for being into nerdy shit and terrible music!”

“My music isn’t terrible!” Eddie screeched automatically.

Gareth anticipated Eddie calling out Steve on his obvious bait—seriously, that wouldn’t have worked in a game even with a nat 20—but found himself underestimating Steve's bantering skills as their ex-jock just plowed right ahead.

“It is! It’s just--screaming. Screaming with loud ass guitars!”

“Oh my God, I am going to sit you down and make you listen to so many albums. The screaming is a core part of the range of emotions in the songs--”

“Range? Eddie there isn’t any range, it’s just dudes who are angry--”

“Fuck you, it is not!” Eddie was howling, both of them too into their argument to remember they were trying to be quiet to begin with.

“I bet you five dollars! Five entire dollars, that you could not find me a singular song I like out of your entire metal collection.”

“Ten dollars! And the largest Pizza this shithole town has to offer!”

“Deal!” Steve shouted, chest heaving.

They breathed together for a moment, before the tension between them fizzled out, fading into something more uncertain.

Delicate, even though Gareth was fairly certain Steve had expertly maneuvered Eddie right where he wanted him.

Eddie seemed to realize it too, folding back into himself as he tugged a finger around his hair, pulling it in front of his face.

“You really wouldn't care if I kissed a guy in front of you?” Eddie's question isn't overtly vulnerable, but Gareth knows better.

He understands the significance of this.

Of Steve’s acceptance, more than anyone else's.

The jock had become so deeply bonded to them—all of them—that the rejection would wound Eddie in a way few could truly understand. Crack his otherwise impenetrable shield, the ricochet tearing through a substantial portion of his resilience.

“And I'd probably tell you to find a room, but hey, I said that to Tommy and Carol too,” Steve retorts, nudging Eddie's thigh.

Eddie rewards him with a small smile

Steve seems to know more is needed, and offers it up right alongside his heart. “I’m serious. I know I kinda butchered it but--the queer thing shouldn’t be a problem to begin with. It’s stupid that it is.”

"Steven Harrington, did I just witness personal growth?" Eddie teased, his smile widening. "What's next, admitting that college sports are ridiculous?"

“Don’t be a dick,” Steve scoffed, but his own smile mirrored Eddie’s as he looked away. 

Despite his head still partly tucked into his arm, Gareth found himself grinning.

It was a welcome relief after an otherwise horrific night.

Sensing it was now or never, Gareth made a show of untangling himself, stretching upward with a moan that startled both Eddie and Steve.

“Be careful saying that shit, Steve,” He said, jerking a thumb towards his best friend. “He’ll take it as an invitation to make out with people in front of you.”

Eddie gasped, hand flying over his heart in mock offense.

“I would never!”

“He’s a real horndog, once he even tried to make out with a guy on stage on top of my drumset.” Gareth continued, sticking out his tongue.

He deserved the pillow thrown his way but Gareth took the hit with grace, laughing as Eddie huffed at him.

“For the last time I wasn’t making out with that guy, he was trying to punch me!”

“With his mouth?”

“With his head, which you damn well know."  Eddie accused, clawing blindly for another pillow. "Gareth you are shameless, how long have you been listening in!?”

“As much as I enjoy the calming effects of mindless screaming, I'd wager it was when you guys conveniently forgot I was in the room."

“I take it you uh, know?” Steve injected hesitantly, eyes moving between Eddie and Gareth and oh--oh, he was being protective.

'That’s cute.' Gareth thinks.

Even if he’s rolling his eyes at the very idea that he posses any kind of threat.

“Dude, I clocked Eddie before he clocked me.” He said, just to take some heat from Eddie--and because it was one of the few opportunities where he could say it. “We’ve spent many a math period discussing if Sting was hotter than Axl Rose.”

If Eddie can be brave, Gareth could too.

“You did not.” Eddie spits back, the offense mounting. “You absolutely did not clock me first you lying liar--”

“Oh.” Steve blinked, finger flicking out between them as if he’s connected two dots and feels awfully stupid about not seeing it before. “I uh, I didn’t, are you guys--”

And oh, the horror that crashes into Gareth when he figured out what Steve was asking.

“No! God no.” Gareth shuddered, delighting in the way Eddie’s jaw crashed down at the sight. “And if I ever consider it, I need you to take me out back and shoot me, Steve. Right between the eyes, for the greater good.”

“Wow Gary, just stick a knife in my back why don’t you--”

“I’m gonna be real,” Steve cut in, before they could fake-argue their way into a real fight, “I never actually thought about liking both. Guys and girls, I mean.”

He blushed, as both Gareth and Eddie turned to look at him.

“Oh Stevie,” Eddie cooed, “there are so many more options than just "liking both.”

He made air quotes with his fingers, attention immediately diverted away from murdering Gareth with whatever objects he could grab. 

Steve gave him a side eye that was more than well deserved.

“I feel like I don’t want to know.” He said flatly.

“Too late.” Gareth told him, resigned. “You get to hear the speech now.”

“There’s a speech?”

“Steve, it's me. Of course there’s a speech.” Eddie tutted, resettling himself on the couch so that he’s sitting cross legged. “It’s an hour long so strap yourself in big guy, we have a lot of ground to cover!”

Crisis firmly averted, Gareth curls back up in the chair, tired smile on his face as Steve and Eddie go right back to bantering, the tension having vanished from the room.

This is a rare outcome, given their life and the world they live in, but one Gareth’s incredibly thankful for.

Can’t quite believe it, but then, King Steve had surprised a lot of them ever since he’d hung up his crown.

Perhaps Hellfire was a good influence on people after all.

xXx

Bonus

Back at the Byers, outside on the front porch, Hopper and Joyce were arguing over a cigarette.

(They both believe they’re being very quiet about it, but the pillow Jonathan had jammed over his ears said otherwise.)

“Remind me to make you work on your approach with disciplining children.” Joyce was saying, as she snatched the cigarette out of Hopper’s hands.

“What?! I thought that went pretty well considering they broke back into the lab and almost killed themselves.” He responded, waiting until she’d taken a deep inhale before trying to get it back.

“And I’m sure taking potshots at the poorest kid in the room was a necessary part of that process. It’s probably written down in the police handbook, even.”

“I wasn’t taking potshots Joyce--”

“No, of course not, you were just throwing random criticism and assumptions around, willy nilly and--oh, wait, that’s the exact definition of a potshot--”

“He deals drugs! Look me in the eyes and tell me Munson doling out weed doesn’t make more sense then the lot of them chasing down some--some goo story!?”

There’s a weighty pause, in which one can only imagine Joyce Byers face says more words than her mouth ever could.

It was very impactful.

“I mean--okay, maybe not our kids, but the teenagers?” Hopper’s voice dives into a disbelieving kind of whine, reserved for those who are aware the point they’re arguing may in fact, be wrong, but are desperately defending it anyway. “Come on. Drugs is the clear answer!" 

“Even if that was what was happening, then you shouldn’t be discussing it in a room full of children who have survived what those kids have, Jim. It could have been a separate conversation, given in a much calmer and less threatening tone of voice.”

“Oh my God, Joyce--”

“Don’t you ‘oh my God!’ me, you asked for lessons on being a better parent and I am holding you to them!”

There’s a brief scuffle over the cigarette, as both seem to realize Joyce is letting it smoke out in her hand.

She does not stop talking however, even as their hands slap at each other. 

“That includes parenting the teenagers in this town, because in case you haven’t noticed, you’re the Chief of police! So you signed up to see them all at their worst, and you get to deal with the fallout of that!”

“Fine! Fine. I’ll apologize to the goddamn high school drug dealer. Is that what you want!?”

“Yes!”

Another pause, this one filled with that awkward sort of tension when an argument has fizzled out, and neither party knows quite where they stand with each other yet.

“What voice am I supposed to use?” Hopper mused, finally winning the bid for the cigarette and jamming it into his mouth.

“Anyone except the grumbly bear voice.”

“The grumbly bear voice?”

“You know,” Joyce drops her own voice in a comical rendition of Hopper’s, “How dare you kids run off! You’ll be the death of me and this town!”

She laughs, and Hopper, shockingly, laughs along with her.

“I don’t sound like that.” He defends, bumping Joyce gently with his shoulder, and she in return, bumps him right back.

Both of them grinning, both of them blushing a little.

They keep talking, the cigarette eventually put aside and forgotten as they do.

Truth be told, they hadn’t needed it--but the excuse was nice.

(Inside, Jonathan rolled the pillow on top of his face in a suffocation attempt, unsure of what he’d done in life to deserve all this but desperately wishing he didn’t have to listen to his mother flirt.

Or worse--Hop flirting back.)

#AaJ #adopt a jock #steddie #0o0 fanfics #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #gareth emerson #pre steddie #hellfire club #joyce/hopper #Gareth: “If I had a nickel for every time Eddie and Steve have woken me up #by yelling confessions at each other #I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.” #Jeff #thinking through an entire montage of Eddie waking people up by screaming things #c he can't regulate his volume for shit: “You cannot be serious #we'd have at least fifteen dollars.”

[queenimmadolla]

i literally cannot stop thinking about the playgirl eddie art by sporelium!! rockstar eddie coming back to hawkins to visit old friends and finding his edition of playgirl hidden under reader’s bed ksjdjks i just need to get that out of my brainnn it’s just rattling around in there

you are so real for this bc i have to actively avoid looking at both of the pieces sporelium dropped since i always start thinking of a plot but I have 17383982829 WIPs, I CANT PICK UP ANOTHER!!! and when sporelium dropped the second one?? I wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. it’s not fair! it’s not fair! ITS NOT FAIR!!!!

all my life, i have never wanted to suffocate in bush as bad as i do when i look at those pieces. would literally just keep my face there forever, he doesn’t even have to put it in my mouth (although it WILL end up in my throat)

your old high school crush—who you never really spoke to and who became a rockstar as well as the epitome of sex comes back into town. by then you’ve made friends with his hawkins group and he takes an interest in you, but you’re much too shy, can’t really look in his direction because of how little you’ve seen him in, clothing wise. you’d purchased a copy of his Playgirl spread, had gotten yourself off to it enough times to make yourself feel ashamed.

it doesn’t help that you want to peel those tight pants off of him with your teeth because it’s big, there’s a prominent bulge pressing against his zipper at all times—and he’s wasn’t even hard. god, if you invited him over to hang out—a group invite that your friends all suddenly cancel on, last minute and one by one—and he found that magazine, the corner of it poking out from where you’d hastily shoved it under your bed and got you to admit that you touch yourself when you look at it—look at him? he’d have you on your knees for hours, forcing you to gag on it and while you’re making him feel good, he’d let you know he always carries a pair of handcuffs on him 🤤

rockstar!eddie by sporelium (1)

rockstar!eddie by sporelium (2)

#I can’t say the word c*ck cause my anti will report it 💀 #I had to lay down in silence when I saw the first one #$ replies #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson smut #giving eddie head(canons) #eddie munson smut